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street-smarts00 · 2 months ago

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in omnia paratus

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: Spencer's been on the fence with his feelings for you. Due to his past traumas he’s decided to keep his feelings hidden. Until you’re caught in a dangerous situation at work

WC: 3.5 k

A/N: I am SO SORRY this took so long. I’ve been sitting on this for two months because I was being a perfectionist and had writer's block. Thank you so much to the person who requested this idea and I hope ya’ll like it! beta read by @whats-yesterday00

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Protective!spencer, Friends to lovers, age gap (25 and idk 33 or 34), during season 9 (sadly no post prison Reid, I refuse to watch the show after Derek & Hotch leave), Maeve is implied

Warnings!: mentions of murder, stalking, gunshot wounds, hostage situation and incorrect info about hostage situation cause Idk I'm not in the FBI

Everyone knew Spencer Reid had a soft spot for you. Well, everyone except for you.

Since the moment you met you’ve been on his mind.

“Do you know how old she is?”

“No, how old is she?”

“25!” Penelope squeaked before being shushed by Rossi.

“Wow, she’s gotta be the youngest person to ever be in the BAU. Well, second to genius over here,” JJ commented while pointing to Reid.

“That’s if she gets the job,” Morgan added.

They were all crowded around the desks in front of Hotch’s office. The blinds were cracked and they could just barely make out the woman seated across from their boss for an interview.

Due to the increase in caseload after Alex joined, Hotch made the request to add an additional member of the team. After interviewing a few people that didn’t pan out, he heard quite a bit about you from your supervisor saying how well you’ve done with the FBI and you’d be an exceptional fit for the team.

Then of course Penelope looked up everyone who was interviewing with Hotch. You being her most recent victim.

“How long has she been with the FBI?” Alex questioned.

“Three years,” Penelope answered

“What? Did she join right after college?”

“Not right away. She graduated early and got experience with law enforcement first.”

Spencer sat at his desk quietly while everyone was peering into Hotch’s office. Not to say he wasn’t nosy as well. You were already behind the blinds when he arrived for work.

“Oh they’re shaking hands! That has to be a good sign,” Penelope cheered.

Morgan turned to the window, “It’s definitely not a bad one.”

Her eyes widened before loudly whispering, “Oh no they’re leaving. Disperse.”

She scurried off in her heels towards Derek’s desk while he followed behind with a grin. JJ, and Rossi averted their eyes from Hotch’s office and found Alex’s desk far more interesting.

All while Spencer’s attention was brought to the woman led down the stairs by his boss. It felt like his heart stopped beating when he saw how beautiful you were. He was brought back to earth as Hotch introduced you to the rest of the team.

“This is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he gestured to the man sitting at his desk.

You offered him a small wave and a kind smile, “Nice to meet you.”

It became quite obvious you two would get along very well. From very early on conversation flowed incredibly well between the two of you. There were very few people that he felt were easy to talk to because of his niche interests and the way he would ramble spitting facts left and right.

But he never had to worry about saying the wrong thing or talking too much with you. You often were a content listener or you would even match his passion on certain subjects. Most were topics Spencer already knew about.

When you first met Spencer you didn’t know the Dr in his name meant he held 3 PhD’s or that he was quite literally a genius.

So you were often telling stories or facts you found interesting that he already knew. In fact, almost every “fun fact” you brought up, he knew about already.

But he never interrupted you. He always was listening intently to what you had to say. Like he was hearing about it for the first time.

At some point you learned of his eidetic memory and how vast his knowledge was. It was during a case where you found out and mentioned it to him.

“Reid, remember when we were at the harbor and I mentioned that thing about sharks?” You hesitated, “did you know that already?”

“Yes,” he guiltily admitted.

You partially deflated suddenly feeling that the whole tangent you went on was pointless. “Why did you let me go on and on if you already knew?”

His eyes softened, “because I wanted to hear you talk about it.”

That was when his feelings started to peek through. As the months went on it only grew and grew. And you were none the wiser.

To the average person, it might not seem like much. Perhaps you were just good friends. But to a team of profilers (and best friends) it was painfully obvious.

It was almost painful the way he looked at you with a longing in his eyes. Or when his gaze immediately turned to you to catch your reaction or smile.

It was obvious by the way he found any excuse to bring you up in conversation. Or how in conversation with you he would mirror your mannerisms and lean closer to you.

As well as the things he remembered about you or the little things he did for you. Like the countless coffee cups he bought for you from his favorite coffee shop before work. And when he saw you struggling to find something or open something he was always right there to help.

Spencer Reid had feelings for you. Feelings so deep that he couldn’t pull the roots out even if he tried.

He didn’t know what to do with his feelings exactly. He hadn’t felt this strongly for someone since … well for a while. He was terrified of history repeating itself.

He couldn't lose you. He’d seen first hand what this job did to him, what it did to Hotch. Their loved ones ripped away from them too soon.

So for now at least, he kept his feelings to himself.

Well, until your last case.

The BAU was called in on a case that just turned serial. They found the unsub to be a man named Mark, who started killing because his girlfriend cheated on him. The first two victims reminded him of the man she cheated with. When that didn’t satisfy him, he hunted down and killed the other man.

Now the team and SWAT was stationed outside a bus that Mark was holding hostage. He stalked his ex-girlfriend and tracked down the new city bus she took.

The officers couldn’t get a clear shot of him because of where he was standing and he kept using the passengers as shields. Rossi was currently on the phone with him trying to make negotiation terms and get some of the people off the bus. Mark however was incredibly stubborn and didn’t want to let his leverage go.

So Rossi asked about the children on the bus and if Mark would be willing to let them off. They were met with silence on the other end of the phone, contrary to his previous behavior where he loved to hear himself talk.

After a short pause the phone spoke. “I’ll only send out the kids if you send in an agent.”

Rossi shifted his weight and crossed his arms. “Are there any other circumstances you’re willing to send out the children for?” he asked.

“Nope,” he said with a pop at the end of the word.

A look of concern was quickly exchanged between Rossi and Hotch. While their faces didn’t reveal much, their eyes spoke volumes.

“How about this,” the unsub continued. “I’ll send out their moms too.”

Rossi’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at the eagerness to comply from the criminal. “You’ll send out the children and their mothers if we send in one of our agents?”

“I promise.”

Rossi returned his eyes to Hotch who stood rigid and tall with his arms folded. He was met with an approving nod before returning to the call.

“Alright, we can agree to those terms.”

“Oh and agent Rossi?” Mark perked.

“Yes?”

“Send in a girl.”

There was a tension that quietly branched out between the agents listening to the phone call.

“Why do you want a woman?” Rossi asked, clearly changing the dialogue used.

“I’m losing too many ladies sending out these moms. I want one back,” he replied with a cockiness to his voice.

Ross confirmed they could send in a female agent. Almost immediately after the unsub hung up, you volunteered to be the agent going on the bus.

“I’ll do it.”

Spencer’s head shot in your direction. “No you're not.” His voice was laced with concern and a hint of demand.

“Reid-”

“He specifically asked for a woman. We don’t know what he’s planning, he’s devolving.”

“And I’m willing to take that risk to make sure those kids are safe,” You defended yourself.

You turned to your boss waiting for his thoughts. Hotch knew you’d been exposed to enough high tension scenarios to know what you were doing. But just like any member of his team, he silently hesitated, worrying for your safety.

He took a breath before meeting your eyes again. “Send her in.”

Right before you were led to the bus, Hotch took off the holster on his ankle and handed it to you. “Some extra protection in case something happens.” You couldn’t hear the concern in his voice, but you saw it clear as day in his eyes.

You made your way to the bus and saw through the window Mark holding a gun to the driver and telling him to open the door. You stepped on and the doors closed quickly behind you. The unsub took a long look at you, panning up and down.

“Well how about that. Aren’t you a beauty? He said with a cheeky grin.

You tried your hardest not to look disgusted with him. Instead you kept your composure and spoke with courage and a confident demeanor.

“You this flirty with all your hostages?” you asked plainly.

As he gazed down at your legs his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. He bent down and with the gun in his hand, pushed away the bottom of your pants leg. When he saw the gun in the holster, he tsked.

“You always carry this much dead weight on you?”

He stood back up and put his hand out, “hand it over, I told them no weapons.”

You reluctantly took off Hotch’s holster and placed it in the unsubs hand. Your one line of defense was gone.

The longer you were on the bus, the more anxious Spencer got. He knew you were an exceptional profiler, and you had enough experience and skill to handle yourself in situations like this.

But that couldn’t stop the ache in his stomach or the fact that his heart rate could power a car by now.

He stood closer to the bus now to get a clearer view of the windows. They managed to successfully get the children and moms off and to safety, but you weren’t safe. Spencer figured you were trying to negotiate with the unsub, but that was going nowhere. This was confirmed when Rossi tried calling him again but every call was ignored.

This unsub was stubborn as hell. He knows he trapped himself, but didn’t want to back down. At least he didn’t want to go quietly.

Spencer was talking with the rest of the team trying to devise a plan when the gunshots were fired. The team immediately ran back to the cacophony on the bus.

More shots were fired, he didn’t know where from. He didn’t care.

He just needed to get to you.

When he got a decent view through one of the windows that hadn’t shattered he saw you. Your hand over arm in pain but still standing in front of the civilians to protect them. The unsub stalking over to you, gun in hand and smacking you over the head with it. You slammed against the chairs and fell to the floor.

Spencer's face paled. He swore he was going to throw up.

Through the fog of his mind Spencer saw Morgan escorting Mark off the bus, his hands now behind his back in cuffs.

He rushed past them, clambering through the door and up the stairs to get to you, calling your name.

“Reid?” he heard your small tired voice through the crowd.

He followed it to you, laying on the ground struggling to open your eyes and clutching your left arm.

He crouched down to your level with a gentle hand on your uninjured arm.

“Hey, I’m here. I’m right here,” he comforted.

“My head hurts,” you mumbled.

His eyes softened, “I know. I think you might have a concussion, you need to go to the hospital.”

You slowly started to fade out of consciousness. Spencer’s heart dropped and his hand moved from your arm to your face.

“No no no no stay with me okay?” he caressed your cheek with his thumb.

“Stay with me sweetheart,” he consoled.

Your eyes stopped struggling to stay open and finally made their close. His other hand rushed to your pulse point as he called for a medic.

Time seemed to stand still while Spencer sat next to your hospital bed waiting for you to wake up. He couldn’t leave your side. He didn’t want to.

You were okay. You were laying in the bed in front of him. But of course in his mind he ran through all the possible scenarios of how things could’ve gone worse, how things could’ve gone better. What would’ve happened if you didn’t have your gun taken away, or if the unsub got angry that you tried to bring a gun in. What if he didn’t lose his cool and start firing. What if you never went inside in the first place.

And with all of those possible scenarios, the same thought plagued him.

He was wrong.

Before he was too scarred from past traumas to reveal just how much you meant to him. Not wanting to repeat the past and lose yet another person he loved cared for.

But now, after seeing you in danger right in front of him, now he was terrified at the thought of you never knowing. He was now more scared you would never know how much he loved the way your nose crinkled when you smiled. How he thought the sound of your voice could cure any ailment he had. How he admired your strength and desire to protect others. How you could light up anyone's mood by just being you. How he could listen to you for hours, even if you were lecturing him on things he’d known like the back of his hand.

To him it was a whole new experience hearing it from you.

Spencer was pulled from his thoughts as you stirred awake. He saw your eyes adjust to the bright fluorescent lights ahead. He quickly got up to dim the lights for you.

When he returned to his seat you smiled at him, “hi.”

“Hi,” he smiled back.

“How are you feeling?”

You sighed. “Like shit,” you complained with a hint of humor.

“The doctor said you have a minor head injury, bruised ribs, and the shot to your arm thankfully didn’t break any bones.”

“Fun,” you said sarcastically.

A moment of silence passes between you two. He doesn’t exactly know what to say. How do you casually tell your friend and coworker you have a crush on them?

There is no casual way.

“You called me sweetheart,” you broke the silence.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

You fidget with the blanket, “earlier, when I passed out on the bus. You called me sweetheart.”

He searches his mind for the memories of the day. When he finds the memory he realizes in the heat of the moment the term of endearment slipped out.

He wasn’t aware you heard it.

“I did,” he confirmed as his ears flushed.

“Why?” you asked curiously.

He didn’t know how to tell you that he’s wanted to call you that for weeks now. So instead he settled with-

“It just … felt right.”

“Oh,” you replied quietly.

Spencer tensed up at your response.

“If I crossed the line-“

“No. Of course not,” you interrupted with a comforting voice.

The corners of your mouth lifted and cheeks dusted pink. “I thought it was sweet. You don’t normally say stuff like that.”

His heart warmed at your confession and a smile spread on his face.

“You thought me calling you sweetheart was sweet?” he lightly teased.

“Shut up,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Your laughter was cut short by a sharp pain in your abdomen. You bit down on your lip and gripped the side of the bed in pain.

The reality that you were injured on the job was rushing back to him.

He licked his lips, his nervous unconscious habit.

“I was really worried about you.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t,” he interjected.

“The entire time you were on that bus I was sick to my stomach. Terrified that something bad was gonna happen and it did,” he started to ramble.

You leaned closer to him. ”But I’m okay Reid.”

“You still got hurt. He shot you for christ sake!” his voice raising in pitch and volume.

“Reid-”

“He lashed out at you! You could’ve died!”

“Spencer,” you said firmly, pulling his attention towards you.

He never heard you say his name before. No matter how many times he said you could call him Spencer, you still called him Reid. Hearing his name fall from your lips was like the consistency of honey.

You placed your hands on his face caressing his cheek. His golden eyes meet yours.

“I’m alright. I’m still here,” you consoled.

“But if-“

“Spencer.”

“Please,” he pleaded. “It’s important.”

You nodded your head, signaling for him to continue. He gently grabbed your wrists and brought your hands in his. He took a deep breath before he decided to spill the thing that had been eating away at his heart.

“I have feelings for you. I have for a long time. Almost as long as you’ve been at the BAU,” he started.

With your hands in his he started tracing his thumb over your knuckles.

“If we don’t have work I count down the days until I can see you again. When I do see you I desperately want to see you smile, see you happy. And if I’m the one that causes that smile, it makes my whole day. That’s why I never interrupted when you talked about something I already knew. The way your face lit up when you talked with such passion was the highlight of my day.”

“For months I was scared of my feelings and I kept them to myself. I was too scared to admit how much I liked you because I-” his hold on your hands tightened.

“I know what it feels like to lose someone. This job takes so much from us; I never wanted it to take you.”

Spencer let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

“Today I realized it would be more painful if I went the rest of my life not telling you, than having even a fraction of a moment with you.”

A moment of silence danced between you two. Your head reeling from his confession, heart beating so hard you could feel it in your bones. Your palms sweaty from holding onto Spencers, but still neither of you let go.

The silence was deafening, plaguing him.

“Please … say something,” he begged.

Your lash line was collecting tears that you simultaneously tried blinking away. Your eyes found his tie less intimidating than his gaze.

“I never thought you would like me back,” you said with a soft tone.

Spencer's cheeks turned red as his heart started melting. “I do.”

You brought your eyes back to his. That precious smile on his face was infectious.

“Listen,” you squeezed his hands. “I’m not going anywhere. So you have as much time with me as you want.”

Spencer's eyes softened at your words. He raised your hands and placed a loving kiss on your knuckles.

The two of you were too lost in eachother to notice the footsteps towards the room.

“Hey, I found some Jello for her if she-” Alex abruptly stopped once she noticed what she walked into.

You both awkwardly pulled your hands away from each other; you fiddling with the hospital blanket, him rubbing his palms on his slacks.

“So, feeling better?” she asked hesitantly.

“Much,” you answered, still a bit flustered.

“Good, good to hear,” She tried not to sound too smug, but the small smile on her face said otherwise.

She raised and shook the jello container in her hand.

“I’m gonna leave this here,” she placed it on the table. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Thanks Blake,” you thanked as she left.

Once she was gone you quietly giggled and mumbled “oh my god,” under your breath.

“You know, she kept teasing me asking when I was going to ask you out. And don’t even get me started on Morgan,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

Your jaw dropped and eyes furrowed. “Did everyone else know but me?”

He pressed his lips in a thin line, “pretty much.”

“I must be a shitty profiler,” you half joked.

“Absolutely not,” he said in the most comforting voice. He brushed the hair that had fallen in front of your face behind your ear.

“You’re an amazing profiler.”

You smiled that smile he loved so much. The one where you couldn’t hide your joy and your nose crinkled.

“So, how do you think you’ll spend all those moments with me?” you inquired with a bit of a teasing tone.

“Doing anything sweetheart,” he answered seriously. He looked at you with awe written all over your face. “I'm ready for anything with you.”

“in omnia paratus” - ready for anything

Tag asks: @adrienneleclerc @ladybirdbeetle7

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst

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atoltia · 1 month ago

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The Need to Indulge

You arrived with an injury again. Only this time, there's a certain snow-haired man waiting for you when you get home.

In which Sylus buys you groceries and tends to your wounds.

TW: injury, blood, some swearing Tags: hurt/comfort, danger is their love language

Sylus x fem!MC

-0-

You've grown accustomed to the pain.

Being broken over and over and over again, to heal and to mend, to spend days, weeks in the stark white of a hospital room enveloped by the all-surrounding scent of antiseptic just to get up and work the moment you were medically cleared - you were used to that life.

Eight years on the job and you've conditioned your body to suppress it, ignore it. You didn't need it, not when there were Wanderers causing harm to the people you've sworn to protect.

Even if that meant constantly coming home in the dead of night, exhausted, a dull thrum pulsing at the base of your skull as you staggered to your apartment.

Today was particularly bad.

You weren't even supposed to be involved. It was end of shift, and for once you were excited to be able to go home on time for the first time in months. Just get out the door, just get the hell out before you were pulled into another mission.

You managed to get to the train without a hitch, managed to sink into the bench without a blip. A smile tugged at your lips. Maybe tonight would be the right time to eat that tub of ice cream you got over a week ago, maybe you can even start that new show you promised Jenna that you'd watch over three months ago. Maybe you can finally get some decent fucking sleep.

But of course you weren't that lucky.

The cold wave of dread washed over you when your hunter's watch signaled, the incessant beeping heating up your blood so fast it alerted not just you but the people around you.

Alpha Team B requires assistance. All units nearby NH-Zone 7 please respond. Alpha Team B requires assistance. All units nearby NH-Zone 7 please respond. Alpha Team B requires immediate medical assistance.

You racked your brain as you hit the emergency switch on the cart you were on, the sharp wind snapping at your cloak when the window opened enough for you to leap out the moving train as you swore, leaving the Linkon City citizenry gawking. You jumped down from the track and into the busy street and bulled your way through the mass of bodies as you dove deep into your memory as to who the hell was Alpha Team B this week.

Skylar Morrison, age twenty-one. Edward Fleming, age twenty. Cormorant Kurr, age twenty. Rookies straight from the academy. Rookies that had just fucking graduated two months ago. If your memory was correct, there was no team assigned to patrol NH-Zone 7 today and tomorrow, seeing as the association was testing out the new surveillance technology that they've recently acquired.

You glanced up at the sky, ice in your veins as you watched the sunlight slowly fade. If they get stranded there while hurt the moment the light is gone, they'd be dead. If you didn't get to them soon, they'd be dead. From the fast chatter and reports from your watch, you were the closest hunter in the vicinity.

It took you a considerable amount of time to find them, even with the coordinates sent out by your watch every thirty seconds. You were already so deep into the forest that you'd know the medical unit would take a longer time to get there than those on foot. There were medical supplies on your person, as was required by protocol, but you were sure it wasn't enough for three people.

The rapid fire sound of gunshots made you quicken your pace, slowing when the tree line opened up to reveal the violence still occurring. Eyes scanned the scenario, clocking one hunter laying by a smatter of boulders. Bleeding, unmoving. One other hunter stayed by their side, one hand limp as the other barraged three winged Wanderers with bullets. The third one - Fleming, you were sure - was in close combat with another.

Shit.

You didn't have time to think, didn't have time to dwell on it. You unsheathed your sword and got to work.

-0-

It was already dark when you managed to get home.

You didn't track any blood on the floor this time, but only due to the fact that Jenna managed to drag you to the on-site medical unit and ordered your injuries to get cleaned and dressed even though you could do this your damned self once you've gone home and took a shower.

You just wanted the quiet, damn it, just to ease the ringing in your ear that stemmed from hearing your superior officer rip a new one into the three rookie hunters. You were grateful for it though, even if the kids had to take the brunt of it. You knew full well just how scathing Jenna tended to be when her hunters went out of their way to ignore association guidelines and nearly get themselves killed - as well as the fact that it gave you the window you needed to slip out and away before you got shipped to the hospital. You'll just take the hit of her wrath about ignoring protocol tomorrow, after you've passed out cold in the middle of your bed.

The door opened with the soft hum and beep of the fingerprint scanner as a sigh of relief puffed out from you chest. Finally within the confines of your home, finally within your sanctum, with the softness of your bed in reach. You'd take a shower first, of course. No matter how many times you come home half-dead and tired to the bone, cleanliness is a must.

With the shaking of your hands, the tremble of your breath, you slowly, gingerly, took your boots off. Arranged them neatly against the wall alongside your other footwear. The automatic light that you received more than a year ago was dark. Hm, you might have to replace it soon, or at least see if it's just the bulb. You were rather fond of that light, with its silly bird shape. It was something that Jenna got you as a joke for your birthday, before handing you her actual gift. Something to liven up the place, you remember her say. Neither of you expected that you would like it more than just a silly trinket -

Your hands stilled as your breath halted, your once relaxed eyes going into full alert as you reached back for the gun strapped to your thigh. The emptiness that usually met you was gone, the still air that you were accustomed to wasn't there.

This place has been your home for nearly a decade now and you knew it like the back of your hand and would be able to silently navigate it even with the absence of light. Silent as a cat, you kept your position low, legs ready to spring up, your body braced for any assault. Not a peep, not a single pin drop could be heard.

But you didn't dismiss it.

Listen to your gut, that's what you learned through years of experience, the instinct that you polished kept you alive, kept you whole. You weren't about to break that streak now.

Could it be a Wanderer? No. If it was, it would have attacked you by now. A person, then. A person stupid enough to break into the home of a highly trained hunter.

Not wanting to break the stillness, your exhaled. Focused.

When you first entered the academy, you were deemed to be someone that had to be constantly paired with another Evolver. Your evol was meant to be for support, they told you long ago. It would be most useful if you had another person with you.

But that won't do. That won't do at all. Not all hunters had the privilege of going into battle with a partner. You were not going to allow yourself to become a liability.

So you trained, thought of other ways to use your Resonance evol.

And in the darkness of your apartment, you focused your mind and exhaled. A wave, unseen by anyone but you, emerged from you. Reaching out, reaching forth into the shadows, trying to pinpoint any living creature in the room.

It pinged.

The warmth of it surprised you, the initial prickly sensation of the other person's evol slowly enveloped you with a slow, burning heat. A familiar heat that you were damned sure you've resonated with many times before.

You hissed, bracing yourself against the wall from your crouched position as you strapped the gun back in its holster.

"Sylus, what the fuck."

The low rumble from his laugh came from the living room, and even with the absence of light you could see the way his ruby eyes glinted at you with mirth.

It was an interesting display, one that he would be thinking about for a long time. Those eyes of yours that were drowning in exhaustion only moments ago was quick to fade as it flattened, emotionless and alert. The slow, practiced moves of your hands that reached for the weapon, the impressive use of your evol to sense where he was.

He knew you were competent at your job, and to see the evidence of it firsthand always gave him a burst of satisfaction.

Sylus lounged at your sofa, a glass in hand as he regarded you even in the darkness. You sighed and set your lights on ten percent, not needing the harshness of the overhead lights washing over the both of you. You continued your routine, pointedly ignoring the man as you stripped your body of the weapons you always carried and gently placed them on side table by the door just before you peeled your ripped jacket from your body to leave you just in your sleeveless tank, your hands automatically smoothing it out and hanging it on the hook as neatly as it could be.

It was odd, Sylus thought as he watched your body automatically move to keep your items in order, that he found this sort of sensual. The precision of it, the cold methodology of it - there was no deliberate sexuality to your movements, no conscious attempt to make yourself desirable in front of him. There was just a single-minded purpose in your brain right now and it was just to get it done.

It turned him on.

"You could make a show of that, kitten." There was a chuckle in his voice, making you take a glance. The warmth of the low light washed over his features like a blanket, the shadows perfectly highlighting the contours of his face.

He really is beautiful, you thought as you strode to where he sat, face impassive as you bent down, those bruised hands of yours gripping the backrest of the couch to cage him in. You didn't mind playing his games, didn't mind the teasing, the insinuations. The soft, lingering touches he sometimes used in an attempt to scramble your mind was not lost on you. The way he would slink so close to you, so much that you would be able to feel the emanating heat from his body wasn't at all unpleasant - it was nice, even.

You were so close, so close, humming when the the spice and musk of his cologne wafted through your nose. "You should have told me you were coming over," you murmured, mouth hovering over his. It pleased you to see the way his eyes dilated ever so slightly, his fingers that were comfortably resting on his lap twitching to touch, aching to feel you. "I would have made myself look more..." His eyes sharpened onto your lips, the desire evident as you moved them close, mere centimeters apart, about to do something forbidden. "...presentable."

Those large, strong arms whipped forward to grip your waist when you moved back, sharply pulling you in so you fell on his lap. "You're not getting away that easily." There was a groan in his voice, almost an octave lower, reaching, demanding, as those long fingers rubbed gentle circles on your hip.

"If I asked for a kiss," he matched your tone, the low murmuring of his voice a gentle vibration in the air around you as his eyes glinted. "Will you grant it?"

You searched his eyes, smiled. This was a dangerous game, a possibly fatal game. He was so... thrilling, so exciting. You've already sunk yourself lower into his games, played along of your own free will. If the Association knew of your connection to him, they'd have you hunted with no mercy.

But he was just so warm. And no matter how much his life differed from yours, no matter how much his past deeds was a dark smear compared to yours, you knew that he wasn't a liar. Not once, in all of the months you've... rendezvoused with him, has he ever harmed you except for the first few days of your meeting.

And was it so wrong to want someone like him? To have a man like him want you? To have his strong hands on you? To possess, to be possessed, to be coveted? It's been so long since you've been intimate with someone, been so long to have had someone want you and never in the way that he does.

He gave you moments of respite, whether it be here or in the N109 Zone. And that's what you wanted, right? You wanted time, you wanted rest, you just wanted to goddamn sleep.

You traced a finger down his cheek, rubbed under the hallow of his eye, smiled as you pushed away from him to stand.

And immediately felt the wave of exhaustion hit you.

He was behind you in a heartbeat in a shower of feathers, the energy of his evol radiating off of him in a steady thrum, that simple and pure strength of him held you up as you drifted away for a second. You blinked as your senses flooded back into you, huffed a breath when you noticed his hands gripping protectively at your waist. You smiled.

In a blink of an eye, you whirled in a speed that even he didn't account for. Even as your muscles screamed, you had your face upturned to his, the blade that was hidden in your belt nicking the skin of his neck.

He regarded you, amused, as his hands still palmed your hips. Sylus definitely understood your reputation wasn't just for show, even when he felt warm liquid drip from where your knife pointed at his throat.

"You're so gosh darn pretty," you murmured when he said nothing, your other hand carding through his snow-white hair, your other letting go of the blade, letting it fall on to the floor with a soft thud just so you could wipe the thin line of blood that dripped. He swayed you, his chest vibrating as he purred a soft tune as you tilted your face up, up, and pressed a soft kiss on the wound. "This one should do it."

You slithered away from his grasp, grinned as you ambled towards the bedroom, leaving him standing in the middle of your living room with a smirk on his face.

He watched you pitter patter around yet only the barest of sounds could be heard, and Sylus was sure it was because of his own training that he could even hear you. You were definitely interesting, quite unlike the people he's had dealings with before. And definitely more amusing that some common grunt.

Sylus strode past to follow only to stop when your phone beeped once, twice, three times, the screen lighting up to show a simple reminder: 10:00 PM Eat Food. He frowned as he picked up the phone, sighed when your calendar showed that reminder set to everyday.

He's been in your apartment for several hours already, so much so that he finished quite a bit of work and managed to get an afternoon nap while he waited for you. You stopped questioning how he got through your biometric lock, at this point you don't even care.

He did some snooping, of course he would. Sylus didn't rifle through any of your drawers nor any papers that laid in neat stacks on one of your bookshelves, but he did check the titles of your books, how you arranged your furniture, the things in your refrigerator and cupboards.

He was not at all impressed.

Multipacks of nutrition jelly and economy packs of energy bars dominated your fridge, neatly stacked at the far corner alongside bottles of water and energy drinks. There were fruit cups, at least, but still it didn't and couldn't justify the amount of artificial sustenance you were consuming for your daily intake of nutrients. Beside the fridge were bottles of vitamin supplements, one nearly empty.

It should be alright now as he ordered Luke and Kieran to get you supplies and groceries that could at the very least last you several months. Your cupboards that used to be devoid of anything but dust were now cleaned and filled with grains, rice, pasta, spices, and tinned food that cost more than half a month of your salary. Both dried and fresh fruit were now part of your inventory, as well as other non-perishables.

Eggs, bread, cured and fresh meats, vegetables - anything that you could possibly need for proper nourishment now packed your kitchen, barring any of your allergies that he was aware of. He was aware of your habits, watched you fumble through your apartment day in and day out through Mephisto's eyes and not a single day has past that he hadn't felt the need stop himself from just plucking you up from Linkon City and making you live with him instead.

With all the things he wanted to do with you at first, the amount of luxuries that he wanted to pile on top of you, right now the dominated desire that enveloped him was to make sure you were fed.

And that was a challenge already.

It wasn't that you wanted him to worry. It was just you didn't have the time. The energy you could use to cook could be used to cleaning your weapons and the sooner you could drag yourself to bed, the better.

But still, you didn't like the way he looked at you whenever you meet and you've spent another two days awake, didn't like the way he would hover when he felt like you weren't eating properly. Oh he stilled teased you, still provoked you, but beneath it all there was an underlying concern that you just didn't have the energy to push away.

The hot spray of water was a relief, as proved by the groan that left you when you felt the blood and grime wash away from your battered body. You looked down, hissed at the sight of the gash that ran from your hip to your stomach. It wasn't deep enough to be concerning, but you knew you had to get it cleaned and dressed quickly.

You washed, let the warmth of the water soak in your bones, before you stepped out and dried yourself off. As you thought, your left arm and half of your torso were already blooming with bruises. Well, you chuckled to yourself, at least your face was unscathed this time.

With a hum you put on your underwear and strode towards the medicine cabinet, listing off all the supplies you knew you would need.

"Fuck," you hissed. You ran out of bandages.

You closed your eyes, slowed your breathing as you thought of a possible solution to this. You could just go out and buy some, but the nearest convenience store didn't even sell the type of bandages that you needed. Not to mention that you could just aggravate it more and possibly get it infected.

But Sylus... Sylus was here. Maybe you could -

Hm. It was worth a shot.

You stood, firmly secured the towel over your chest as you peeked out the door, tilted your head to the side at the sight of him wearing your summer yellow apron with tiny embroidered flowers over his expensive shirt, his capable hands tossing what looked to be pasta on the pan. This was not something that you quite expected, but he looked so cute to your that you couldn't help but lean against the doorjamb as you were enthralled by this sudden act of domesticity from the leader of Onychinus.

And yet.

The stinging at your side made you inhale sharply before sighing. It needed to be dealt with now.

"Sylus." Your voice was soft, just above a whisper, but it was enough to make him turn. It amused you when he raised his brow, those sharp eyes of his wandering from your face, to your bare chest, to your legs.

"Sweetie," he said as he set the finished pasta aside. "If you're trying to lure me to bed, you're going to succeed."

Your laugh drew a smile out of him as he took a few steps towards you, his arms folded over his wide chest. "So?" There was curiosity in his eyes, just above the simmering heat. "Was there anything that you needed?"

You stayed by the door, your hair falling to the side of your face as you tilted your head once more. There's no beating around the bush with this man, so there's no point in playing coy. Especially since you might get yourself in an even worse position that could medically incapacitate you for a few days. Or worse, be medically incapacitated for a few days at the hospital.

So.

"Could you use your evol to stitch me up?"

There was an unreadableness to his face, one that you've seen only a few times before. He just stood there, still as a statue, the only change to his expression was the furrowing of his brow.

"Show me."

If you didn't spend a long time trying to decipher this man, you would have missed the slight hitch, the small change in inflection in his low voice at the command. You reached out, took his hand into yours, and pulled him into the bedroom.

Sylus didn't wander in here while you were gone, preferring to do so while in your presence. Your bedroom wasn't all that different to the rest of your apartment. A bit sparse, but not Spartan in decoration. Although the place leaned more towards function over aesthetics, there were little nick knacks that popped out in their tidy, little spaces. Small figurines dotted your bookshelf, soft plushies placed neatly on various tables and furniture. Pictures of you and what he assumed as your captain, Jenna, and a few of your colleagues rested on a table next to your bed.

He sat on the edge of your bed, his hands folded neatly over his lap, tapping as he watched you slide the towel off of your still damp body, your calloused yet gentle hands folding it with practiced ease and placing it next to you as you sat. You peered at him, muffled a laugh when you saw him shamelessly studying your nude torso.

"Like what you see?"

"Hm." His eyes were sharp as they regarded you, regarded the strength that showed in your physicality, the gorgeous swell of your chest, the stray water droplet that fell from your bruised shoulder down your arm. And zeroed in on that massive slash, still red and puffy, on your side.

"I didn't know we were already at that stage where you would show me your body without my prompting."

"Please," there was mock derision in your voice. "You've already seen my tits when we got linked. Don't tell me the incredibly intelligent leader of Onychinus already forgot what they looked like?" There was a grin on his mouth but the laughter didn't reach his eyes. You didn't like that one bit. "Sylus." You reached over, cupped his face. "I'm okay."

"It's going to hurt." His voice was so soft, so tender as he leaned into your touch. The gruff elegance that always seemed to exude from him was gone in this moment, wherein focused contemplation reigned instead.

"I know."

Your eyes locked for a moment, and then another, and another, before he yielded. Taking your hand on his cheek, he pulled you closer and rested your head on his shoulder. "If you need to bite something, just bite my shoulder."

"I don't think this is the time for your kinks, Sylus."

"Sweetheart, we all have to get our fun somehow."

You laughed as you leaned into his touched, the scent of his cologne sending comfort throughout your body. "Go ahead."

Those gentle fingers of his trailed your skin, heat following wherever it went. It wasn't so bad, it was almost like droplets of the hot water you used for your morning coffee, feathering over your bruises as if kissing away the wounds.

But the heat quickly turned into a sharp flame, searing, slowly searing into you as you felt you skin stretch, connect, stitch itself within itself before dissipating into particles of red ash.

You didn't see how much Sylus was monitoring your breathing, searching for any minute reaction that you could be doing to hide your pain from him. With a click of his tongue, he pulled you back, those beautiful carmine eyes of his burning into yours.

"Darling," there was a warning edge to his tone as the black and red ink of his evol swirled around you. "Talk to me."

But you weren't afraid, weren't at all in pain. You bumped your nose to his chin. Smiled. "Keep going."

You could see how much he wanted to stop, how much he wanted to just swaddle you in his arms. There was a tightness in your jaw, a twitch in your eye, your fingers clamping onto his thigh.

And still, you kissed his neck, to comfort him more than for your own benefit.

"Sweetie," his voice was rough as he massaged your leg. "Most people would be screaming."

"I'm not most people now, am I?"

"Now I'm not quite sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing." But he kept going.

It was quicker, much quicker once he's gauged your pain tolerance. Every single mark and injury that marred your skin scattered to ash, to nothingness. The stinging that annoyed you during your trek back from the forest was gone. Both of you sighed.

"Thanks, Sy."

"Don't ever ask me to do that again."

There was a petulance in his voice, a deep annoyance that was more than irritation, leaned more towards fear. Your lips met his in a quiet apology. "No promises."

He clicked his tongue as he shook his head at you, those wide shoulders shrugging in temporary defeat. "You will be the death of me."

"Oh yes," there was an innocence in your voice, one that was met with a snort. You pushed yourself from your seated position on the bed and sat on his lap, not minding the way your legs straddled over him. You cradled his face, massaged his scalped, stared deeply into his eyes. "If you are going to die," you whispered, your lips once again hovering over his luscious ones. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to give in. To give yourself to him. "It's because I've killed you slowly." Fingers traced his bottom lip, the curve of his chin. "Thoroughly." A kiss to his well-defined nose. "Because you are my quarry, as I am yours. Do you understand?"

Sylus' eyes shined like polished rubies and you swear you could hear the hammering of his heart even when his face gave away nothing.

He gripped the back of your neck, caressed the base of your skull as he cocked his head. Smirked wickedly. "I agree to those terms."

"Good." And before he could do anything else, because the bastard would definitely do something else, you maneuvered yourself out of his grasp and into the kitchen in one swift, playful move. "Food's getting cold."

Your laugh tinkled out when you moved away from his reach, winking at him when he just watched you saunter away.

Oh he'll accept the loss this time. Next time, however, he's not going to let you off that easily.

From the confines of your closet, he quickly grabbed one of your nightshirts and followed you out the door.

Check out my other Sylus fics here!

Also please send me ideas, I am running out lmao (｡•́︿•̀｡)

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x mc #love and deepspace sylus hurt/comfort #lads #honestly lost steam by the end of this lmao #there were a couple more i wanted to add but ngl i dont wanna look at this anymore :^)#atoltia writes in deepspace

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halfwayhearted · 2 months ago

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I Love You, I’m Sorry — Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Summary: Since your abrupt (and rather dramatic) departure, Spencer’s been tormented by his thoughts. It’s unsettling how he only seems to grasp that it’s always been you when you’re critically injured in the field.

Word Count: 1.4K+

Disclaimer/s — Mention of guns, violence, gunshot wound, hospitals, no use of Y/N, angst to comfort, I think that’s it!

A/N: Read part one here! ^_^ Did Reader lowkey forgive him a little too easily orrrrrrr… gulps.

You weren’t exactly sure about what went wrong.

You trailed behind SSA Luke Alvez, who moved with a tense urgency up the stairs. His silent signal directed you to the rooms further away while he tackled the ones closer to him. With a deep breath, you pushed forward, every step heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

Pushing open the door, your eyes widen at the sight of the woman reported missing just three days ago. Her eyes are wide, and her mouth is taped shut. Without thinking, you rush toward her. You don’t pay too much attention to the way she shakes her head vigorously and sobs even louder than before. You wish you had. Just as you rip the tape off her mouth, you hear a cold, menacing voice sound from behind you.

“Drop the gun,” he murmured, using the tip of his foot to gently close the door. “Or I’ll shoot. And trust me, I will shoot. Just ask her.”

Her blue eyes, now glossed over with a new wave of tears, slowly shut while she nods her head at his statement. He’ll shoot.

He will shoot.

Steadily turning around, you tilt your head, raising your gun and aiming it at him. Your voice is stern, “You know I can’t do that. I will if you drop yours.”

“Oh, bullshit. Drop it, or so help me, I’ll kill her right now,” the man snapped, clicking off the safety of his weapon.

Where is Luke? Backup? Hell, Spencer?

“Okay! Okay. Look, I’m putting it down, see?” You relent, kneeling slowly and placing the gun on the ground. He seems satisfied, but the tension in his eyes tells you it’s not enough.

“Now, slide it over.”

Reluctantly, you place your foot behind the firearm and kick it toward him.

A small, bitter laugh escapes his lips. “Now get up. Onto your feet, come on.”

“Okay,” you muttered, ignoring his instructions. Instead, you subtly felt around your ankle, your fingers brushing against the second gun you had stashed there. You cursed yourself under your breath, realizing that Spencer was right again.

Carrying two was incredibly helpful.

“I said get up!” He yelled, his mistake. The sound of shuffling outside the door catches his attention, and that distraction is all you need. You take it out, click off the safety, and aim it at him just as he turns to face you, his eyes widening.

Then, gunshots. Exactly two of them.

Your body crashes against the wall, and your ears are filled with a piercing ringing. The door bursts open, and you hear footsteps rushing toward you.

Did you get him? Did you hit him? You don’t know.

Hands find their way to your abdomen, eliciting a pained whimper from your lips. The person mutters a frantic string of apologies, making you open your eyes to see who it was.

Spencer.

It’s Spencer.

You’re still so, so mad at him. But his expression is worrisome. He’s worried about you.

Looking ahead, you see the UnSub clutching his arm, pain etched across his face, with Luke and another officer roughly dragging him outside. You got him. A small, relieved smile struggles to form on your lips, that’s when it finally registers. There were two gunshots. You were shot.

Your eyes trail up to meet his. “Will I be okay?” You question, your voice soft. He couldn't help but feel himself choking up, he had to be strong. You needed reassurance. He knew that.

“You’re okay.” He tells you, “You’ll be okay.”

Letting out a hum, your eyes welled up with tears that quickly spilled over. He was just telling you what you wanted to hear, and deep down, you knew it. You didn’t feel okay, not even close.

You could barely keep your eyes open.

Spencer says your name, low but loud enough for you to hear. “Stay awake, hm? Can you do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s try, okay? Keep your eyes open.”

Fluttering your eyes open, you meet his panicked gaze. He’s saying something—no, he’s yelling something. Medical. Medics. “Medics!”

Just then, three paramedics burst in, dropping to the ground beside you and swiftly but carefully lifting you onto a stretcher. His desperate words echo in your mind: “You’ll be okay.” But you couldn’t fight the darkness much longer. They were here. You’d be okay, right? You’d hope so.

So, you surrender to the sudden exhaustion, darkness consuming your vision as your body goes completely limp on the gurney.

That was when he knew.

A life without you wasn’t a life at all.

…

Once he came to that realization, he couldn’t bring himself to leave the hospital. Not until he knew you were okay. Not until he knew you were alive. The weight of his mistake crushed him. How could he have been so stupid? So utterly foolish to let you leave. So reckless for letting you go.

He only left when he was informed that your surgery was successful and that he should come back tomorrow since you were now resting.

The tension in his shoulders faded, and they slumped against his frame.

You were alive.

The next day, he was right there by your bedside, his calloused hand holding onto yours with a desperation that betrayed his calm facade. He had spent a sleepless night consumed by thoughts of what he would say to you. But the problem was, he wasn’t actually sure.

Though it seems he’d have to figure it out now rather than later, when he hears you stir in your sleep, leading to your eyes blinking open.

The first thing you did was panic. All you remember was being on the floor, with Spencer and the paramedics surrounding you. That was when he quickly stood up and leaned over to look at you, saying, “Hey. Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe, okay? Look. Hospital.”

At the sight of him, you relaxed. “Right.”

“Good,” Spencer nodded, squeezing your hand once, “You’re okay. How are you feeling?”

“Like I was shot.”

He couldn’t help but wince at that. Too soon. “I’d expect nothing less. Do you need anything?”

You don’t answer, too consumed by the fact that he was actually here. Despite everything that’s happened, he was here. Maybe you should’ve expected it. This is Spencer, after all. He’d be here even if it were someone else.

You weren’t entirely sure if you were only trying to convince yourself to shield from the emotions that had quickly loomed. Still, you couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, “Why are you here?”

His figure tensed, yet without hesitation, he responded, “For you.”

When you don’t reply, he continues, his voice breaking, “I’m so—God, I’m so sorry. For not telling you what I was thinking. For not reassuring you. For letting you think I didn’t care. I do care. You needed me to talk to you, communicate, and I didn’t. I… I don’t know why. What JJ said, it didn’t mean anything to me. You mean everything to me. And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you that when you asked. I shouldn’t have even questioned it. I shouldn’t have pulled back from you. And it shouldn’t have taken me so long to realize that. I love you. I love you, and I’m sorry.”

I love you, I’m sorry.

You could see the way his eyes watered, and you couldn’t help but pull him toward you, his upper body bending down slightly while you wrapped your arms around his neck. Both of his hands reluctantly settled on your waist; he didn’t want to hurt you. However, when he didn’t feel any signs of you being uncomfortable, he rested them fully before choking out, “I thought I’d lost you.”

Your heart broke. “I’m right here,” you whispered, pulling back and taking his hand to place it over your heart. It was beating a little fast, but still beating nonetheless. “See? I’m okay, I promise.”

Spencer looked down at his hand that still covered your heart, then flickered his gaze to meet yours. You met his with a soft expression, something he hadn’t seen in the past few weeks and had wished to. “Will you come home?”

A small smile made its way onto your face. You nodded. “Maybe.” A pause. “Yes.”

He released a sigh of relief, leaning down to place a tender kiss to your temple. His lips lingered there, savoring the moment longer than needed, and you welcomed the warmth. He settled back into the chair beside your bed, his hand instantly finding yours when you reached out. His thumb brushing back and forth across your knuckles, a gentle and soothing rhythm that spoke volumes.

“Hey, Spence?” You started. When you heard him say your name in return, you asked, “Do you think you can get me some jello?”

The man smiled and nodded, “Of course.”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @pedrilcvr + @writtenbyhollywood ! ౨ৎ

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds angst #criminal minds comfort #jilval #i love you i’m sorry - gracie abrams

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jezabelle9299 · 3 months ago

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Broken Lungs S.R x FEM!Reader

CWs- Spoilers for season 5, depictions of asthma and use of a nebulizer, mentions of gunshot wounds, and health insurance not covering necessary medication.

Quick Infodump- Oxygen saturation levels should be 95-100%, lower than 93% should seek immediate help from a healthcare professional, and lower than 85% can cause severe damage to the brain because of a lack of oxygen.

Overture: Spencer is recovering from the knee surgery he needed after being shot in the field, when he sees a familiar face in the hospital being treated for an asthma attack.

A/N- This is based on my own experience with asthma, but it's different for everyone, so the relatability may vary with this one. But I was stuck at home all day because of an air quality alert so I did this instead of getting ready for the semester that starts in two weeks.

After one of his worst days in the field, Spencer ended the day in a hospital bed unable to walk. Hotch had been stabbed, and he had been shot. Both would be ok, and they were in separate hospitals to recover. The team alternated who would come to visit, and when. It usually took until the nurses kicked them out at the end of visiting hours, for them to actually leave.

It’d been 2 days since his surgery, and the nurses had given him permission to walk around with his brace, on crutches. He’d never used them before, so he walked around the floor to the nurses’ station to get some more jell-o, and then around the hall back to his room. He allowed his curiosity (or nosiness) to get the better of him, occasionally glancing in at the people with their doors open, giving them a small smile or wave. Until he saw a familiar face.

You’d worked for the FBI for a few years, working on the same floor as the BAU, but you weren’t in the field. You were sitting up in a hospital bed, playing solitaire in one hand, holding what looked like an oxygen mask to your face with the other. You looked up when you felt his eyes on you, and there he was, trapped in the doorway. You’d think you were hallucinating if not for the brace on his knee, and the crutches he was propping himself up on. He didn’t move from the threshold until you gave him a small wave, jumpstarting his movement into your room.

You’d heard about Hotch’s incident, but you weren’t in the office yesterday, and since Spencer’s injury happened later in the day, you had no idea why he was here. You pulled the mask spraying (terrible tasting) medicine into your lungs from your face. You could stop for 30 seconds to see what he was here for.

“Hey Spencer, what–um, what brings you here?” He hesitated, because you’d know since the 5th floor of the FBI building was the most gossip-ridden place he’d seen since high school. Yet he had no idea you’d be here. It’s not even as if you never talked, whenever he was in the office he’d stop by your desk to talk to you. He figured that you hadn’t gotten tired of him yet because he was gone a lot, although in reality you’d never tire of hearing his voice.

“I got shot in the knee, I’ll be fine, the real question is why are you here?” You’re sure it’s on government record, something Garcia could find in two minutes if she looked, but you still didn’t like talking about it. You knew it was stupid to be embarrassed of it, but you couldn’t help it. Every time it got brought up, you felt like the dorky character in a movie carting around their inhaler all the time, the butt of some cosmic joke.

You preferred to think of it as an inconvenience more than anything. It didn’t come up often because you weren’t in the field, and when you needed to use an inhaler, you measured your breathing long enough to get to an empty bathroom or supply closet. You’d just blame the jitters that came after on too much coffee, and no one would ask any questions. This time, the inhaler wasn’t working, the next step in medication, a small machine similar to what you were supposed to be hooked up to now, wasn’t working either. So you drove to the ER feeling like you’d just run 10 miles, and they were making you stay 36 hours to give you stronger medication in intervals.

“No reason.” You didn’t know why you even bothered with that response. Neither did Spencer, tossing you an apathetic look. He knew how squeamish you got when attention was drawn to something that made you look vulnerable, which is why he let it slide every time you walked into a supply closet looking flushed and panicked, with a soundtrack accompanying every time you took a breath, only to come out 5 minutes later with no supplies.

“Ok, really? Why would you even try it, you’re hooked up to a nebulizer and your oxygen saturation is at 90. What happened?” He was using the tone he only ever broke out for interrogations and proving Morgan wrong, but you still wanted to minimize the attention drawn to this not so glamorous piece of your life. You wanted Spencer to see you as someone he could date, even someone he could love, so this was not ideal to the image you’d been trying to show at work.

“I have gross broken lungs. It’s really no big deal.” He laughed, but there was minimal humor behind it. Like he couldn’t even fathom you thinking this was ‘no big deal’.

“I would venture to say you being in the hospital because you were unable to breathe is a very big deal.” While you loved when Spencer got a little bit cocky, you decided it would be more fun to make the little vein in his forehead appear again. So you tossed a vague shrug.

“Well I’d say getting shot is a much bigger deal. So why don’t you sit down, eat your jello, and tell me what happened to you, while I finish this thing.” He couldn’t argue with that, because at the very least he wanted you to feel better and the medicine currently going to waste while you were talking was the only way to accomplish that, so he relented.

He didn’t want to move your things to the floor, but they were occupying the only chair in the room, so he made himself comfortable at the foot of your bed. He always wanted to be closer to you anyway. Setting his crutches next to him and opening the small cup of jello he’d somehow been holding this whole time, he reiterated his answer from before.

“I told you already, I got shot in the knee, went into surgery, and now other than having to use these crutches for a while, I’m fine. Just need to spend a little longer in recovery before I can go back home to minimize the risk of infection.” He took a bite of jell-o just as a show of finality, like there was nothing more to say. Like a gunshot wound was not a huge deal.

The whirr of the machine started to slow down, the medicine sputtering instead of coming out in a steady steam, meaning you could finally be done. You set it on the table by the bed, right next to your abandoned game of solitaire, and as soon as you set it down Spencer’s attention was back on your wellbeing.

“Ok your turn, what happened?”

“I’ve had asthma since I was a kid, and I just got unlucky today. It’s always worse this time of year, and my inhaler wasn’t really doing anything for me. Our health insurance plan doesn’t cover the more expensive meds unless I’m in the hospital, so here I am, for the next 36 hours.” You made a point to turn your exasperated expression into a cheesy smile, hoping to convince him to stay for just a little while longer. “But the bright side is that since you're here I don’t have to play solitaire anymore. That was getting old fast.” You grabbed the cards, giving them a quick shuffle.

“So what do you say Vegas, are you up for a round of poker?” You hoped that would distract him from fussing over you, and luckily it did. He was satisfied you were ok, and the last thing he wanted was to push you too far, and for you to ask him to leave. So he let the smile take over his face.

“Always. But i'm not going to go easy on you just because of your- what did you call them- broken lungs?” That got a good laugh out of you. Admittedly wheezy, but still one of the most beautiful sounds in the world to him.

“Gross, broken lungs. And I wouldn’t dream of it.” You dealt the cards, already knowing you’d lose. You didn’t even know how to play poker. But word around the office was that most of your coworkers wouldn’t play with him since he always won. But you didn’t mind, you mostly just wanted someone to hang out with, and you were overjoyed that person was Spencer. He won, of course. Only gloating a little bit at how badly he beat you, and while you were dealing the second round of cards, you couldn’t help but vocalize what had been in the back of your mind for a few minutes now.

“Hey Spencer, could I ask you a favor?” He had a mix of worry and willingness to help all over his face.

“Anything.”

“Could you–not tell anyone in the office? Just. You know how they are, they would make a fuss about the whole hospital thing and it’s just not necessary.”

“Where do they think you’re going to be for the next day and a half?”

You looked down like a kid who just got caught in a lie. “I kind of told Hotch I had a cold.” Spencer just sighed in response.

“I really do think you should let them fuss over you. You deserve it, and you know Penelope lives for that sort of thing.” That you couldn’t deny, no matter how much you disagreed with him saying you deserved to be cared for.

“Please, Spencer?”

“Alright, but they might walk past your room in the morning. Garcia said she was coming, and you know she’ll drag at least one person along with her.”

“Noted. I’ll close the door in the morning. Thank you Spencer, seriously, it means a lot.” You put your hand over his and it felt like every thought he’d ever had was gone from his brain at your touch. He couldn’t believe his dumb luck at meeting someone like you. Just to be in your orbit, to see and know you, felt like it could only be accomplished by divine intervention. Selfishly, he wished that you’d be staying a little longer, so that you could both leave together. Even more selfishly, he wished that you would leave with him, and come to his apartment. There he could take care of you, make you feel special until he could finally convince you that you deserved it. Deserved everything.

You moved your hand to start tapping it on your leg, and while Spencer knew the side effects of respiratory steroids, he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that something was wrong. That maybe he did something wrong.

“Is there something on your mind?”

“No, it’s just the jitters. I used to get them so bad when I was a kid, my parents would have to practically hold me down. It’s like I have the energy to run a mile, but I can’t actually do it. I’ll calm down in a bit, but I’m probably going to get really rambly first.”

“I’d love to listen to you talk, and I love being on the other side of a ramble.” It was just then that a nurse came in to ask if you were feeling better, charting your vials, reminding you that you need to take your next dose in 4 hours, and telling you that an orderly would be in to set it up then.

Just when she was getting ready to leave she turned her attention to Spencer. “I’m sorry, but I am going to need you to go back to your room Dr. Reid. You both need to get some rest.”

He reluctantly told her that he would and just as soon as he’d come in, he disappeared again. He gave you a wave when he was gathering his crutches, but no real goodbye. You of course waved back, but you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. You really liked him, and you thought maybe he really liked you too. And yet, he only gave you a wave.

All of the adrenaline moving through you, getting you all worked up finally won out, and stupid as it may sound, tears started to prick the corners of your eyes. Just as you closed the door to your room to get some privacy while you cried, your phone started to ring, and you couldn’t help but think; What now? You answered it without looking, and on the other side of the line was the person you wanted to hear from the most.

“So what did you want to talk about? I have all the time in the world.”

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction

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itneverendshere · 4 months ago

Text

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - five

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

warnings: angst <3333333 for everyone <33

word count: 7.7k

The ride back to home was a blur. The plane ride, the ferry.

Everything.

Every mile away from Rafe felt like reopening an old wound, over and over. The cops kept trying to make small talk, but you barely said a word. One-syllable responses if anything. Eventually, they just gave up and let you stare out the window in awkward silence.

By the time you pulled up, even the streets of The Cut didn’t make you feel any better. Home didn’t feel like home anymore. It was weird, almost like you didn’t recognize it. Walking in with the officers behind you just made everything feel more real, like a slap in the face of the life you were stepping back into.

“Your brother and your friends were rescued from a remote island a while ago. He was informed of your whereabouts an hour ago, he’ll be here soon.”

You barely processed what they were saying. It didn't really sink in. You just nodded, like you were on autopilot, but your brain was still stuck in everything that went down two days ago. What kind of sister doesn’t freak out when she hears her little brother’s alive and okay?

You should’ve been losing it with relief, right? But all you felt was this weird emptiness. You were supposed to protect him. You didn't.

Their words barely registered.

You nodded numbly; your mind still stuck between the events that had unfolded just two days ago.

What kind of sister had you turned into? Barely phased over the fact your little brother was thankfully alive and well? You were supposed to protect him.

They could tell you were checked out, they exchanged this look, like they didn’t know what to do with you, then quietly stepped out onto the porch, leaving you to rot with your thoughts.

You wandered around the house, but every step felt so heavy. Every room was just a reminder of what used to be. The couch where you'd would argue over stupid TV shows while Luke was off doing who-knows-what, the kitchen table where it was just the two of you, eating and sharing stories like nothing was wrong... It all felt so distant, like snapshots from another life you couldn’t touch anymore.

You knew, deep down, things would never go back to how they were.

You ended up in my room, collapsing onto your bed, the sheets still smelling like home. But even that didn’t help the ache in your chest.

It didn’t feel right. Nothing ever did unless your brother was there.

But now, not even the thought of him being back could bring you peace. All you could think about was Rafe. His smile, his touch, his voice—every part of him was still so clear in your head, and it hurt so bad to remember.

That must be your punishment.

A soft knock on the door jolted you from your thoughts. You sat up, heart racing. Your body was still on high alert, even the tiniest noise made you jump, like you were waiting for something bad to happen.

The sound of gunshots still echoed in your mind. It hadn’t even been three days.

The old wooden door creaked open, and there was JJ, his bright blue eyes wide and full of worry. He rushed to you so fast, you almost lost your breath when he pulled you into this bear hug.

"Holy shit,” he whispered, his voice shaky, "Holy shit."

Tears just started pouring out of you, and you couldn’t stop. You were full-on sobbing while he held you like you used to hold him when he was little, and it killed you. It was all so wrong. It devastated you. It felt so disappointing. He was never supposed to be the one carrying the family burden, you were.

After what felt like forever, you pulled back and wiped your face, your throat tight. JJ sat next to you, searching your face with those big, worried eyes.

“You’re not hurt?”

You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to get a grip. All you could manage was a small “No. You?”

“No,” JJ nodded, lips pursed into a tight line as if he was figuring out what to say next, “They told me about the shooting.”

Your heart sank further at his words. You had hoped to avoid talking about it, at least for a little while. You didn’t want to talk about that. Not yet. But the way he looked at you, like he used to when you'd protect him from everything, you couldn’t just shrug it off.

“I’m fine, I swear.” You reached out and squeezed his hand. "What about you? How did you get off that island?"

JJ let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“It was a mess. We were stuck there for weeks, trying to find a way out. Pope and Kie kept us sane, but it was rough. We finally managed to signal a passing boat, and they rescued us. But the whole time, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

You squeezed his hand even tighter, his words hitting you like a truck, and the guilt just kept building. You squeezed his hand tighter, trying to keep it together.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm so sorry, JJ."

He shook his head vehemently. "No, don't apologize. None of this is your fault. I—I should’ve saved you on that ship, okay? It’s on me, not you.”

You felt another wave of tears coming but swallowed them down.

“You did everything you could. We both did. None of this is your fault."

“The one time we changed places, and I couldn’t do it.”

"Jay—"

"I should have been there for you," he cut in, his voice cracking. "I hated not being there. "I hated it."

God, if only he knew.

If he found out what really happened with Rafe, he’d hate you. It wasn’t his fault—it was yours. You pulled him into another hug, trying to say everything you couldn’t with just your touch. The weight of everything—your guilt, your pain—was too much, but at least you had each other. You could feel his body shaking, and you didn’t even know if it was from exhaustion or emotion.

When you finally let go, you took a deep breath, hoping to find some semblance of strength.

"We’re gonna be okay.”

JJ nodded, though you could see the doubt in his eyes. "I know. It's just... hard."

"I get it. But we're both here, we're alive.”

He gave you this sad little smile, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

You sat there in silence for a bit, and it felt fragile, but at least it was peaceful. Outside, you could hear the waves crashing, like life was still going on, even though yours felt like it was stuck.

"Do you think things will ever go back to normal?" JJ's voice was quiet, almost hesitant, like he didn't want an answer.

Normal? The nightmares of him finding out about Rafe haunted you every night, mocking at your mind. But You couldn’t tell him that. It made you want to scratch your skin raw.

“Yeah.”

"Yeah," I lied.

You could see how tired he was, like he was just as drained as you felt. You both needed sleep, but honestly, the idea of closing your eyes terrified you. The nightmares were always there, waiting.

"Let's try to get some sleep," You suggested softly, though you weren't sure you could follow your own advice. "We both need it, ‘kay?”

“Let’s try to get some rest,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I could actually follow through. "We both need it."

JJ nodded, even though you could tell he wasn’t convinced. He lay down next to you on the tiny bed, and you barely fit, but it was comforting. Just having him close made you feel a little less broken.

The minutes passed in silence, the only sound being the waves outside. You focused on them, using them to ground myself. Slowly, you felt the tension start to slip away, just a little.

"Do you remember the first time we went out on the boat alone?"JJ’s voice was barely a whisper in the dark, like he was holding onto a memory that felt safe.

A small smile crept onto my lips. "Yeah. You swore you knew how to steer, and we almost crashed into that sandbank."

He chuckled softly. "We were so scared. But you figured it out. You always do."

The memory was bittersweet, a reminder of when things were simpler, back when your biggest problem was not sinking a boat and you weren't a complete fuck up.

Now, you felt like you were drowning every day.

Your eyes started to get heavy, and JJ’s breathing next to you slowed, evening out. You wanted to tell him everything, but you couldn’t. If you did, you'd lose him for good.

Sleep came slowly, but when it did, it was deep and dreamless. Empty, like how you'd been feeling for way too long.

Morning came too fast, sunlight slipping through the curtains and filling the room with a warm glow. You blinked awake, feeling disoriented for a second before everything from the past few days came rushing back. JJ was still asleep next to you, his face finally relaxed, looking so much younger and peaceful.

You carefully slid out of bed, not wanting to wake him. The officer who comforted you after the shooting promised he’d call as soon as there was an update on Rafe. So far? Nothing.

You couldn’t help but wonder if the hospital had already contacted Sarah. She was basically the only family Rafe had left, other than Wheezie, who was just a kid, and Ward… well, a literal wanted criminal now. It made sense for them to reach out to her first.

If you called the hospital yourself, they wouldn’t tell you anything—You weren't family. And asking Sarah? She’d immediately know something was off. There was no way you could risk that.

The kitchen was weirdly quiet, the early light stretching shadows across the walls. You made a cup of coffee, letting the warmth calm the cold ache inside you, but even that didn’t really help. Sitting at the table, you tried to think of some kind of plan. You needed to know if he was okay, but every option felt like a trap.

Suddenly, your new phone buzzed on the table, shaking you out of your thoughts. You grabbed it, heart pounding, seeing an unknown number flash on the screen. Your stomach twisted, but you answered.

“Hello?”

“This is Officer Thompson. I promised I’d keep you updated on Rafe Cameron’s condition.”

You closed your eyes, thanking God for finally giving you some piece of mind, “Yes, thank you.”

“He’s stable,” Officer Thompson continued. “The surgery went well, and he’s in recovery. It’ll be a while before he’s fully back on his feet, but he’s out of immediate danger.”

The knot in your stomach loosened just a little. “Thank you for letting me know.”

There was a pause on the other end.

“I know this is difficult, but you should focus on your own recovery too. There’s a chance the feds will contact you, they’re building their case on Ward. What happened to you is, unfortunately, considered a minor crime compared to everything he’s done, so maybe you’ll get some peace. If not, you might have to testify against him.”

Testify. The thought of standing in a courtroom, reliving everything in front of strangers, made your skin crawl.

“And Rafe? What are his charges?”

"He’s facing several charges, but the severity of his sentence could depend on his cooperation. If he agrees to testify against his father, the authorities might offer him a deal."

A deal. The idea of him getting out that easily should’ve made you angry, but instead, you felt this weird sense of relief. You hated myself for it. You wanted him to pay for everything, for all of it. But now? You were clinging to any slim chance of freedom, even if it wasn’t fair.

You thanked Officer Thompson again and ended the call, setting your phone down with a shaky hand. The coffee had grown cold, but you didn't have the energy to make another cup. You sat there for a long moment, staring into nothing.

The sound of footsteps snapped you out of your thoughts, and you turned to see JJ in the doorway, his hair sticking up in all directions, still half-asleep.

“Who was that?” he asked, his voice groggy.

“Uh—Officer Thompson. He was at the scene the other day and told me he’d keep me updated.”

JJ tilted his head, his messy bed hair making him look like a confused puppy. “Updated on what?”

“Rafe’s condition,” You replied, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. It was a half-lie, but at least you were giving him something.

He stopped mid-step, “And you care because…?”

“For closure, I guess," You mumbled, trying to brush it off like it was no big deal.

His gaze softened a little, but not by much. He pulled out a chair and sat across from you. “You’re too good, y’know that? Personally, I don’t give a fuck if he dies.”

You winced inwardly. "JJ, you can't just say stuff like that."

He leaned back, crossing his arms. "Why not? After everything he’s done, he deserves whatever he gets."

You couldn’t really argue with that, but something inside you felt the need to defend Rafe, even if you hated that feeling. He had saved your life, and that wasn’t something you could just forget.

“He’s still a human being, okay?”

JJ scoffed, shaking his head like you’d said the dumbest thing ever. "Barely."

You didn’t know why you suddenly felt so angry, so defensive. But it made its way up your body until your lips were moving again, practically spitting the words out.

“He saved my life.”

Your brother stared at you like you were speaking another language, “Saved your life? Are you serious? It’s his fault you were there in the first place!”

“He chose to help me. And I can't just forget that."

JJ ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “This is insane. One good deed doesn’t make up for all the shit he’s done.”

“I know that,” I said, reaching out for him, but he pulled back before I could touch him, your fingers only brushing against his shirt.

“Do you?” His voice was cold, and the way he looked at you—like he didn’t recognize you—cut deep. It was the look you dreaded seeing in your nightmares, and now, it was real, it ten times worse.

"I’m not saying he’s a good person. I’m just saying… it’s complicated."

He started pacing around the kitchen. "Complicated? Complicated is being stuck on an island, wondering if your sister is even alive. Complicated is dealing with the fact that the guy who screwed us over gets to play hero for one day, and now you’re defending him."

"I'm not defending him," You said, voice rising. "I just… I saw a different side of him. Maybe he can change. Or at least help put Ward away."

You never raised your voice at him.

JJ stopped and spun around to face you, his eyes blazing. "And what if he doesn't? What if this is all part of some twisted game for him? People like Rafe don't just change, okay? They manipulate, they hurt, they destroy."

“JJ—"

“You sound just like her.”

You didn’t have to ask to know what he meant. Suddenly your entire soul felt like it was being drained out and slashed into pieces. A carbon copy of your mother, your punishment. All you life, you’d been told you were like her—just as blind, just as soft.

“Don’t say that.”

“That’s exactly the type of bullshit she would spit out about dad, wasn’t it? And look where it got her.”

"That’s the kind of crap Mom used to say about Dad, remember? And look where it got her."

Memories of mom came rushing back—the excuses she made, the false hope she clung to, and the endless disappointment. You weren't like her, were you? You weren't defending a man who was never going to change. You couldn’t be. You’d spent your entire life trying not to be like her.

It wasn’t fair. You were just trying to find a shred of humanity in someone who had shown you mercy. How could he think you were blind to Rafe’s faults? You knew them all too well. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and fiercely defensive.

“I’m not her,” You finally managed to say, your voice cracking, “I’m not defending him like she did.”

“Is that what you tell yourself to make you feel better?”

Your eyes narrow into slits, “I’m not doing this with you, not right now.”

You turned away, your fists clenched at your sides as you fought to keep it together.

He followed you hot on your heels, "Don't walk away from me.”

"I'm not defending him," You insisted, your back still to him, “I’m just trying to understand, okay?”

“Understand what? Jesus, Rafe is who he is.”

"And maybe he can change," You fired back, the words spilling out despite the tightening knot in your chest. "Maybe he saved my life because he wants to change."

"He's manipulating you," JJ retorted, his jaw clenched. "Just like he always does. You went through some traumatic shit together, but that doesn't mean you owe him anything."

You stopped dead in your tracks, turning to face him again. Your head was tingling, the headache already forming itself, and you felt hot all-over. The word "traumatic" set you off.

“Some traumatic shit?” You repeated, “Are you fucking serious?”

JJ raised both his hands, tangling them in his hair in frustration, “You almost died, and now you’re standing here, defending the guy who put you in that position in the first place!"

The accusation hurt. You hated fighting with your brother and he wasn’t wrong. You hated that Rafe was coming between you both, but you couldn’t shake what you felt.

He shook his head, disappointment oozing from him, "Good luck with that. Just don't expect me to sit here and act like everything's okay."

You blinked away the dryness in your eyes, "I'm not asking you to. Can't you see that maybe things aren't as black and white as they seem?"

“All I know is what he's done to us, to you."

“And what about what he did for me?” The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth.

“And what did he do exactly?" Your lips parted to speak, but words continued to spill from his mouth, “What did you do?”

You gave no reply, unblinking, short breaths escaping you. You couldn’t let it out. Not yet. Not to him.

Not to JJ, not yet.

"I don't expect you to understand," Your voice was strained,"But I’m not turning my back on him.”

JJ's eyes narrowed; frustration etched on his face. "Why?”

“Because I want to!” The scream ripped from your throat before you could stop it, tears spilling over. "I’m still my own person, and I can make my own decisions."

He opened his mouth to fight back, but the words seemed to evaporate from his tongue. The kitchen was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing and your instant regret.

“Fine,” he muttered, turning away. “Do what you want.”

You watched him walk out of the kitchen, his back stiff with anger and disappointment. It was the first time you'd ever yelled at him, and you hated every second of it.

Alone again in the kitchen, you sank back into your chair, your energy completely drained. Part of you wanted to run after him, to explain yourself, to make him understand.

But he wouldn’t. How could he?

None of them would.

Because unlike you, they weren’t stupid enough to sympathize with Rafe Cameron.

Sitting there, you couldn't shake the feeling that you'd crossed a line. You stared at your hands, still trembling from the argument, and let out a long, shaky breath. What was it about Rafe that had such a grip on you?

You heard the front door creak open and shut—JJ leaving. Maybe that was for the best. You both needed time to cool off. You got up, poured the coffee down the sink, watching it swirl away. Weirdly, the sound was kind of comforting, like you were washing away the mess clinging to you.

You spent the entire day locked away in your room, ignoring the sun, ignoring everyone. Your phone buzzed again, and for a second, you thought about letting it go, but you couldn’t. You picked it up, expecting another call from Officer Thompson, but the name on the screen made your heart skip a beat.

Sarah.

With a deep breath, you answered. “Hey sweets.”

“Hi,” Sarah’s voice was almost unsure. “JJ and the police called earlier, told us what happened. Are you okay? I’m on the mainland with John B, we’re taking the next ferry back home.”

You closed your eyes, somewhat relieved that you wouldn’t have to face them yet.

“Yeah, I’m…Managing. I'm okay.”

“Good, that’s good,” There was a pause, and then she asked, “Have you heard anything about...Rafe?”

Had the hospital not called her? How much should you tell her.

“He’s stable. The surgery went well.”

Sarah sighed, “Good. That’s good to hear I guess.”

You bit your lip, unsure if you should ask, but you did anyway. “Sarah, did the hospital call you?”

There was a long silence on the other end before she replied, “Yeah. But I…I don’t know. I just couldn’t bring myself to answer. I knew it was coming after the police called. But—Yeah, it’s just, it’s really hard.”

You didn’t know what to say, “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re the only one not giving me shit about still… caring, I guess. He’s my brother, you know? And I want to hate him. I should hate him. But I can’t.”

"I get it, Sarah. He’s your brother. It’s okay to feel conflicted."

"Yeah," She exhaled heavily, "But I don't know how to deal with it. He's done so much harm, and yet. I keep hoping there's still some good left in him. I know there's no hope for my dad, but Rafe..."

She trailed off, and you knew exactly where she was coming from. She’d seen Rafe before Ward broke him down. And you knew she still carried that guilt—the guilt of being the favorite, never standing up for him, even when she saw Ward lose control.

“I get it,” You whispered. You were both tangled up in love and hate when it came to him, the messiness of family making it impossible to separate the two.

“He was good to me.”

There was a long pause. You expected her to hang up on you, to freak out and call you a list of degrading names, all of which you felt you deserved. She had enough at the hands of her brother— the same brother you had come to care for, despite knowing the full extent of what he’d done.

But you underestimated her. You'd momentarily forgotten just how compassionate and noble she was. She possessed a goodness smiliar to your own—loyal, forgiving, and endlessly understanding.

Both lovers and fighters.

"I know, the feds told me about the shooting," Sarah finally said, "And I think that's what makes it so hard. Picturing him as the same monster from before was a lot easier.”

You nodded even though she couldn't see you, feeling a deep ache in your chest. "Yeah."

"I don't know what to do," She confessed, her vulnerability cutting through the distance between you. "Part of me wants to see him, to talk to him. And part of me wants to never look at him again."

"I think... whatever you decide, it's okay," You offered tentatively, not entirely sure if your words were comforting or just empty platitudes.

“John B disagrees.”

“Yeah, so does JJ.”

"I appreciate you telling me about Rafe," Sarah continued, her voice softer now, more vulnerable. "I... I don't think I could have handled hearing it from anyone else."

Guilt prickled at you. “I’m sorry you had to hear it like this. I wish things were different.”

"We all do," she replied softly. "Thank you.”

“Of course," You said, "Take care of yourself.”

"You too. We'll see you soon, okay?"

"Yeah. See you soon."

You hung up and stared at your phone, the screen going dark. It matched how you felt—empty, lifeless.

You spent the next few days in a haze, avoiding JJ and the rest of your friends as much as possible. You’d only seen Sarah. Somehow her presence didn’t make you feel as nervous as you thought. It weirdly calmed you down. You’d always been close, ever since she joined the group, but now you felt like she was the only one who understood your point of view.

You knew Pope and Kie wouldn’t, and you couldn’t blame them.

Sarah never pushed you to talk, never demanded explanations. Instead, she just sat with you, shared a laugh or two, and let the silence speak for itself.

Your small house felt like a prison. It wasn’t until a week later, as you sat on the beach watching the waves crash against the shore, that your phone buzzed with a message. It was the officer: "Rafe’s awake."

Your heart jumped straight into your throat. You still hadn’t told anyone the full story about what happened between you and Rafe, and honestly, you didn’t even know if you ever could. They knew the basics—he was in the hospital, you both got caught in a shooting, and somehow, he’d saved your life. That’s all anyone knew.

But now, with him awake... you were completely lost.

With shaky hands, you fumbled for the phone, dialing the number the officer had given you. It rang a few times, "Hello, this is St. Michael Hospital. How can I help you?"

"Hi, I'm calling to check on a patient, Rafe Cameron. I was told he’s awake."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, just the faint sound of keys clicking away. "Yes, Mr. Cameron is awake. Are you a family member?" the nurse asked.

You hesitated, unsure how to answer. "No. Uh, a friend, I guess—" You almost started rambling, but instead, you settled for, “Can you tell him Maybank’s calling?”

"Okay, just a minute, please."

You stared at the sand, biting your lip, trying to figure out what you’d even say to him. When the nurse finally came back on, her voice was softer, almost pitiful, and you immediately knew you weren't going to like her answer.

"I’m sorry. Mr. Cameron has requested not to speak with you," she said. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

Your whole body went numb. You wanted to throw the phone, scream into the void, drown yourself in the ocean and not come up until you didn’t feel anything anymore.

What the hell?

You’d spent weeks thinking about him, on edge, worrying if he was gonna make it, praying for him even though you weren’t even sure you believed in any of that. And now...he didn’t want to speak to you? Unbelievabl, like all of it—every single moment you spent worrying, crying, hoping—it was for nothing. You didn't have it in you to put up a fight.

"No, that's all. Thanks," you mumbled before hanging up.

You stared at your phone, trying to process it. Rafe didn’t want to talk to you. It was like someone ripped the ground from under you. Everything you thought you had shared, everything he did for you, saving your life... Had any of it mattered to him?

Had you just imagined it?

You tried to think back—Rafe had kissed you, touched you like you were precious, like he didn’t want to break you. And that moment when he’d saved you—had that meant nothing to him? Maybe you were just fooling yourself. Maybe, to him, you were just a temporary distraction, someone who didn’t mean anything outside of that life-or-death situation. Just a pogue.

You were just sitting there, staring out at the water, trying not to fall apart. The sun felt too bright, the world too loud, everything too much. The anger, the hurt, the confusion—Before you even realized what you were doing, a scream tore out of you, raw and guttural.

It ripped through the air, echoing across the beach as if it could somehow take away everything inside. Tears came next, hot and salty, and you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to.

Without warning, a scream ripped from your throat, raw and unfiltered. It echoed across the empty beach, a primal release of everything you had been bottling up. You hadn’t cried properly in weeks.

You screamed until your throat was raw, until you had nothing left to give. The sun cast long shadows on the sand, the beach deserted except for you. Collapsing back onto the sand, you let the tears flow freely.

There was no one to judge you, no one to see you fall apart. You’d spent a lifetime pulling yourself together, it was only fair you finally got to breathe properly. When the tears subsided, you wiped your face with the back of your hand and took a shuddering breath. The tightness in your chest began to ease, replaced by a hollow ache.

You were many things, but none of them were weak and yet...It was almost unbearable, the way your mind replayed every interaction, every look, every word, searching for signs you might have missed, clues that would have warned you not to get attached.

Footsteps crunched in the sand, and you tensed, knowing who it was even before you turned to look. JJ. Of course, it was him. You still weren’t ready to face him after the argument. But he sat down next to you without saying a word, just looking out at the water like you were.

When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you expected.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry for what I said about Mom,” he continued, sounding just as broken as you felt, “I shouldn’t have compared you to her. That wasn’t fair.”

You swallowed hard, your throat still aching from the scream. “It’s okay,” you whispered. “I get it.”

“I did, and I didn’t,” he admitted. “I just... I don’t want to see you get hurt. I don’t trust him, and I hate that you’ve been caught up in all this.”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.”

JJ turned to you, frowning, “What do you mean?”

“I called the hospital. They said he’s awake, but he doesn’t want to speak with me.”

You could barely get the words out without choking up.

Your brother frowned, his protective instincts flaring up. “That fucking piece of shit. After everything—”

You shook your head, cutting him off gently. ““Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s for the best.”

JJ sighed, softening as he looked at you. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

A lump formed in your throat, but you nodded, trying to believe his words. “I just... I thought there was more to it. That maybe he could change.”

“People like Rafe... it’s hard to change.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill again.

“But that doesn’t mean you’re wrong for wanting to see the good in him.”

He spoke with such gentleness and wisdom. You forgot he wasn’t a kid anymore. That he’d also done his fair share of growing up way too fast.

You leaned into his touch, “I know.”

“We’ll get through this,” JJ said firmly. “Together. You and me, like always.”

You nodded, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the beach, you and JJ sat there in silence. The waves continued to crash against the shore, a reminder that life moved forward, even when it felt like everything was falling apart.

Maybe things would never go back to the way they were, but you had your brother, your friends, and a resilience you didn't know it was capable of existing until then.

Six months had gone by since that day, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

Life had somewhat gone back to normal, or at least a version of it. The days were getting hotter, like the summer was showing off, making everything sticky and slow. You’d spent the afternoon alone, sprawled out on the couch with a book you weren’t really reading, barely feeling the breeze from the old fan struggling against the heat.

You were in the middle of rereading the same sentence for the third time when loud banging on the door made you jump. The knock was so aggressive it had to be someone with a serious problem, and the sound jolted you upright.

You groaned, rolling off the couch and heading for the door. "What the—"

Before you could even finish, you yanked the door open, annoyance already building up. And then, just like that, it drained out of you.

“Rafe?”

It was him. Standing there. Looking... well, looking alive, which was more than you expected after months of silence.

You froze, staring at him, and instinct kicked in. You tried to slam the door in his face, but he was quick. His hand caught the edge, holding it open. “Seriously?” you hissed, shoving harder. “Get the hell off my porch.”

"Maybank—"

"If you don't get off my property, I swear to fucking God—"

“Wait—Maybank—just listen.”

“Nope. Get lost. Now.”

“Please.” His voice cracked, and his hand shook where it held the door. “Just give me a minute.”

You glared at him, every instinct telling you to push harder, to shut him out. But something in his eyes—fear, desperation, a flicker of the Rafe you once knew—gave you pause.

The last time you saw him, he was bleeding out and terrifyingly pale. It wasn’t the cocky Rafe you remembered. The last time you saw him, he was bleeding out, barely conscious. And now he was just... here. What the hell was he doing here?

The last update you had on him was from Sarah, months ago. He had left the hospital and kept sporadic contact, reaching out to her only every few weeks. You never asked her about his well-being or what he was doing; despite guessing that he was cooperating with the police.

At least you hoped he was.

You were determined not to care anymore.

He leaned against the doorframe, looking worn out in a way that made you pause for a second too long. “You look good."

You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt. Was he for real?

You were going to slap the lack of common sense out of him. You weren’t about to let him waltz back in like nothing had happened.

You scoffed, not letting your guard down. “What are you doing here?”

He looked down, trying to find the words as he scratched the back of his head, “I... I needed to see you. To talk.”

“Yeah, no. Get back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”

You tried to slam the door again, but he held firm. “Please, just let me explain.”

“You had six months to explain.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I was— It’s messed up, okay?" his words coming out rushed and uneven. ”I’m still working with the feds. I was losing it. Still am, probably. But I need to explain. Please, Maybank, just a minute.”

Maybe it was the part of you that used to care, or maybe you just needed answers after everything that had happened. You stepped back, letting the door open just enough for him to walk in.

“Fine. Talk.”

Rafe stepped inside, looking around your small living room as if seeing it for the first time, which you now realized he'd never been in your house. And now that he was standing here, you regretted letting him in.

He turned to face you, his expression earnest. “I didn’t know what to say. I felt—“, He took a deep breath, cheeks puffing, “Ashamed. I don’t know.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, keeping a safe distance between you.

“Ashamed? You’ve done a lot of things to be ashamed of. You can’t just show up after six months and expect everything to be fine.”

“I know,” He admitted, taking a deliberate small step closer to you, “I wasn’t expecting that. I just... I wanted to tell you that I’m trying. I’m in therapy and rehab, trying to get clean. I’ve been going to meetings. It’s been hell, but I’m trying.”

You looked at him, searching for any sign of deceit. His eyes were clear, more focused than you had ever seen them. He wasn't high.

You eyed him skeptically. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because you’re the only person who ever saw anything good in me. And I can’t forget that. I don’t deserve it, but I need you to know that your faith in me wasn’t for nothing.”

The vulnerability in his voice took you by surprise. You had expected anger, arrogance, manipulation—but this was different. Genuine. It felt like you were back in that motel room, in his arms.

You scoffed, turning away from him. “Is that all? That’s why you showed up here out of nowhere?”

“No, it’s not,” he said, sounding more desperate. “I just—Shit. I need to make things right. With you. I don’t know how, but I need to try.”

You took a deep breath.

You didn’t want to talk to me.”

He winced at that, his guilt obvious. “I was scared, okay? I didn’t know how to handle it. I still don’t. But I’m here now, trying to fix what I broke.”

Part of you wanted to believe him, to give him another chance, but the other part of you—the part that had been hurt and abandoned—was screaming not to fall for it again.

“So you shut me out?” You snapped, “You made me feel like I meant nothing.”

“That’s not true,” He snapped back, head whipping up, then immediately softened his tone, taking another step closer. “That’s not true. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know. I was getting better for you."

“Don’t lie to me.”

Rafe looked offended, eyes zeroing in on your lips before his gaze met yours. That's when you felt it again, “I never lied to you, pretty.”

You recoiled at the nickname, taking a step back, needing space.

“Cameron.”

Another step closer. His eyes pleading with you to understand.

You were staring up at him now, the look on your face completely unreadable. You were waiting for an answer, but he had a feeling that no matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't make a difference.

"I never lied to you," He repeated, his voice shaking slightly. "I was scared and confused, but I never lied.”

“Scared and confused? That’s your excuse?”

Rafe flinched at your words, but he didn't back down. “I know how it sounds. I handled it all wrong. I’m trying to fix it.”

“You think saying sorry and showing up out of the blue makes it better?"

His hands reached out, his palms open as if he was dealing with a wounded animal. “I’m not asking for forgiveness right away. I just want a chance to make things right.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” You spat, your voice trembling with emotion, “How it felt, watching you almost die. I spent days wondering if you were going to be—”

You stopped yourself, knowing that if you continued your voice would crack and the tears would start pouring down your cheeks.

You already cried enough for him.

Rafe’s expression softened, and he reached out tentatively, his hand stopping inches from your arm. “I’m sorry, baby.”

You took a step back, putting more distance between you, needing the space to think clearly. “I needed you to be sorry six months ago.”

It’s only then, when your brain cleared slightly that you noticed he looked different. His hair had been buzzed, his skin looked tanner than the last time you’d seen him, he looked healthier.

Rafe noticed your eyes wandering to his head and ran a hand through his short hair, a hint of a self-conscious smile flickering across his lips.

“Yeah, I uh, made some changes. Trying to start over, I guess.”

“I’m happy for you, but I can’t do this.”

“Pretty—"

You sighed, rubbing your temples as you cut him off, “I feel guilty enough as it is around everyone else.”

“I told Sarah.”

His words hit you like a punch to your gut.

“What?”

“About us.”

You felt your stomach drop and your vision narrow, the world tilting sideways. “You what?”

“I told her.”

“You absolute fucking—” You hissed, your voice rising without warning, “Are you serious?!”

“I thought it was the right thing to do,” His tone faltered to one that could’ve fallen on deaf ears if not attentive enough. “I needed someone to talk to, and she’s…my sister.”

You were fuming, pacing the room. “Do you realize what that could do? My life here—everything—could be ruined because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

Rafe flinched, taking a step back. “I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“Of course you didn’t,” You nearly growled, pacing the small living room. “You never think about anyone but yourself, do you?”

“Listen— “ He opened his mouth undoubtedly to fire back with another half-assed apology - but you barreled forward, letting the months of bottled resentment continue to burst open.

“You’re so selfish.”

“She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone,” His throat bobbed in an audible gulp, “It’s okay.”

“You really believe that?” You stopped pacing and turned to face him, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “This is too much for her to keep to herself. It’ll eat away at her until she tells someone. And when that happens, my life here is over.”

Rafe looked stricken, “I just—I needed someone to understand what I’m going through.”

For the first time, he took the time to explain what was going on in his head instead of letting his frustrations take over and kissing you.

“And what about what I’m going through?” You demanded. “Did you ever stop to think about that? I’ve been trying to move on, to rebuild my life, and you just waltz back in and blow everything up.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

You spotted his sun-kissed freckles. They wouldn’t be noticeable if you hadn’t looked at him so closely before.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” Bitterness began to overpower the pit of your heaving chest, “Sorry doesn’t make it go away. You can’t just undo what you’ve done.”

“I know,” One shaky hand scrubbed over his face, refusing to meet your wide-eyed stare., “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. I swear.”

“Make it right? You can’t make this right, Rafe.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m trying, pretty. I really am.”

You felt a smidge of sympathy despite your anger.

You could see the pain and desperation in his eyes, the same pain and desperation you had felt for the past six months. But that didn’t change the fact that he left you hanging for so long.

“I need you to leave."

You expected him to put up a fight, to lash out, hide his emotions with empty threats and petty names. But he didn’t. Instead, he nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he turned to leave. You watched him go in silence.

Part of you wanted to run after him, to give him another chance, to believe that he could change. But another part—the part that had been hurt and left to heal on its own—knew that it wasn’t that simple.

You had to protect yourself, even if it meant shutting him out for good.

Rafe paused in the doorway, his back to you. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried clearly through the thick air. "I don’t regret it," he repeated, his shoulders tensing as he spoke.

You blinked, taken aback. "What?"

He turned slightly, just enough for you to see the raw honesty in his eyes. "I don’t regret what happened. Between us. I regret how I handled it, how I hurt you, but I don’t regret feeling something real for once."

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, the suffocating heat seemed to dissipate, replaced by a cold clarity. You crossed your arms tighter around yourself, trying to hold onto your anger, your resolve. But his words had hit a nerve, bringing back memories you’d tried so hard to bury.

You looked away, unable to look at him, "It doesn’t change anything."

"I know.”

And with that, he walked out, leaving you standing there, your heart in pieces all over again. You pushed away from the door, needing something to distract yourself.

You picked up your book, but the words blurred on the page. You tossed it aside, your thoughts too chaotic to focus. Instead, you paced the small living room, replaying the conversation in your mind.

You eventually collapsed onto the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling. You did the right thing, so why did it hurt so bad?

You felt like a wound had been reopened, and you hated him for it.

But you hated yourself more for letting him get to you.

The hours dragged on, the sun dipping below the horizon and casting long shadows through the windows. You tried to lose yourself in anything—TV, reading, cleaning—nothing worked.

You only saw Rafe's face, his desperate eyes, his trembling hands.

You remembered the feel of his skin, the sound of his voice when he was vulnerable. The memories were too real, too persistent. You couldn't bring yourself to explain it to yourself. Your eyes begin to itch, warning you to think of something else.

Anything else but Rafe.

Was this heartbreak? No—it couldn't be. Why did it still hurt?

You weren't in love with Rafe Cameron.

At least, you didn't think you were.

You had never allowed yourself to consider it, to dwell on what you felt for him. But now, in the stillness of your small living room…it was different. You never had a good parental figure to teach you these things. All you knew was destruction, violence, and heartbreak. And although you’d done pretty well for yourself, all things considered, this was new to you.

You had tried so hard to suppress your feelings, to deny your connection with him. But this…wasn’t something that could be easily forgotten or ignored. You had been so afraid to admit it, fearing that acknowledging would destroy you.

You were in love with Rafe Cameron.

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book-place · 2 years ago

Text

Never Grow Up

Warnings: slight mentions of child abandonment, violence, cursing, gunshot wound, weapons, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Batfamily x batsis!reader

*not my gif*

Summary: Your family might have grown over the years, but your bond always stayed the same

A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!

Inspired by: Never Grow Up by Taylor Swift

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Your little hands wrapped around my finger

Bruce looked down at you, only a couple weeks old, so tiny. So fragile. So innocent and unknowing to the horrors of the world.

You had woken up in the middle of the night, screaming and crying, so of course he had gotten up with you, especially after Jason threatened to throw you out of the window if you woke him up again.

Bruce couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Finally, after what felt like hours of crying and screaming, you seemed to calm down and you looked up at Bruce in an innocent wonder.

He reached down and began to adjust your shirt that had moved to an awkward angle with all of your squirming.

He paused when you reached up slowly and wrapped your hand around his index finger.

Ever since your mother had dropped you off here, claiming to Bruce that you were his daughter and she didn’t want to take care of you anymore, he had vowed he would do anything to protect you.

As he looked down at you with soft features, he couldn’t help but smile softly, “Hi, honey.” He whispered.

And it’s so quiet in the world tonight

It was weird.

All night you had been completely silent, no screaming, no crying.

While Alfred, Dick, and Bruce were all gratefully taking this opportunity to sleep without worrying about having to get up every five minutes, Jason on the other hand, didn’t like how quiet it was, it felt as if something was wrong.

As silently as he could, he snuck through the halls and into the nursery that Bruce had immediately had put in as soon as you showed up.

Don’t get him wrong, Jason didn’t like you at all. Nope. No way, no how. You were just an annoying baby that moved right into the manor not too long after him, which was only about a month ago.

He had still been in the process of adjusting to his new life, and then a baby was thrown into the mix, so if anything, he hated you.

As he opened the door and crept into your room, he didn’t really know what he was expecting. But he certainly wasn’t expecting you to be wide awake, just staring at the ceiling, not screaming and not crying like you always did whenever you were awake.

Even as you watched Jason approach you, you didn’t scream out and begin the waterworks that he was inevitably waiting for.

Pretty soon, Jason was standing right over you, staring down at you with just as much curiosity as you were to him.

Jason hesitated before slowly reaching down and gently picking you up.

All you did was stare up at him, and he continued to stare down at you.

Your little eyelids flutter cause your dreaming

Jason sat with four year old you on his lap, bouncing his knees up and down as you giggled every time you went up, almost flying in the air if it weren’t for his hands holding your sides, keeping you from going airborne.

Dick sat on the other side of Jason, secretly snapping a picture on his phone before turning his head back to the cartoon that the two had put on the tv for you. Though it seemed that they were enjoying it more than you were.

Bruce was out for the day with Alfred and they hesitantly trusted the boys to watch you, after a whole lot of begging on the younger ones' parts.

“Higher, Jay!” You called suddenly, still giggled.

The boy smiled slightly before bouncing you higher, causing Dick to look at the two of you nervously.

“You know, Jay, I think she’s going high enough.” He said, not taking his nervous gaze off of you, ready to leap forward at any moment if you were to fly out of his younger brother's arms.

He just shrugged, continuing to bounce you higher.

Fifteen minutes, and almost a heart attack, later, your giggled stopped and Jason’s leg slowed, and he looked down to see if you were okay, only to see you leaning against his chest with closed eyes and even breathing.

“Dickie,” Jason hissed, trying to get his older brother's attention.

He hummed in return, not looking away from the new cartoon.

“She’s asleep.”

That made Dick look over and he cooed over you in adoration.

“I think she’s dreaming.” Jason continued softly, watching you.

Dick nodded in return, snapping another photo.

So I tuck you in, turn on your favorite night light

“No, daddy!” You screamed, running away from an exhausted looking Bruce.

“It’s way past your bedtime, honey.” He practically begged, just wanting to go and get a nap in before he had to go on patrol.

You ran around the dining room table again, forcing Bruce to try and go after you.

Jason walked into the room calmly sipping a cup of coffee, “Wow, B. The five year old is faster than you.”

“Shut up.” The order man grunted in return, “Or help me get her to bed.”

His adopted son pretended to think about it, “Nah, I’m good.” Before turning on his heel and going back the way he came.

Bruce grumbled under his breath, promising himself that he would give Jason an earful later about respect.

He stopped running when an idea came to his mind, “Hey, n/n. If you get ready for bed then I’ll give you a surprise.”

You slowed your running in curiosity and looked at your father, “What kind of surprise?”

Bruce shrugged, “Guess you're going to have to see.”

The curiosity that you were feeling got the best of you and you quickly ran up the many stairs and got into your pj’s and hopped in bed.

A couple seconds after, Bruce walked in with something behind his back, which made you crane your neck to try and see what he was holding.

He bent down at one of your outlets without saying anything, plugging something in with his back covering what he was doing, then stood up and flicked off the lights.

You looked at him in confusion before he said, “Look up.”

So you did.

The sight above you made you gasp, it was the bat symbol on your ceiling, from the nightlight that Bruce had just placed in.

Batman had always been your favorite Gotham vigilante and you told your family about it all of the time, though your two brothers constantly tried to tell you that Nightwing and Robin were way better.

Bruce was able to slip out of the room unnoticed as you continued to stare up at your ceiling, not taking your eyes off of it until they started to droop.

And pretty soon, you were peacefully asleep.

To you, everything’s funny

You waddled down the stairs, scurrying into the dining room with a large grin on your face, following the delicious smell of Alfred’s pancakes.

When you got there, you were greeted with the sight of your father, Alfred, your brothers, and even your new brother, Tim, who just joined you guys at the manor about two months ago.

Six year old you had been ecstatic to gain a new brother, thinking that you could get away with more than you could with your other brothers.

“Good morning, n/n!” Dick called cheerfully, rushing over and scooping you up in his arms before plopping you down into the seat next to his and across from Tim.

“Morning, Timmy!” You exclaimed excitedly, still in the phase of becoming joyful whenever you would see the new face.

He hummed lazily in return, head in his hand as if he was putting his entire weight into it against the table. There were dark circles under his eyes that insinuated yet another restless night for him.

Sitting in front of him was a bowl of cereal, barely touched, with a spoon resting in it.

Just as you were about to turn to your own breakfast, Tim’s arm fell under the weight of his head and his eyes were closed, making him fall face first into his bowl.

Everyone looked up in surprise as the boy shot straight up in his seat, now fully awake.

Before anyone could even ask if he was okay, you let out a loud laugh. You laughed and laughed and laughed.

You were laughing so hard that you had doubled over slightly against the table with your arms wrapped around your stomach, “Silly Timmy!” You exclaimed, pointing a finger at him in between giggles.

He grumbled under his breath, taking a napkin and harshly wiping milk off his face, “Glad someone finds it funny.”

You’ve got nothing to regret

Bruce stood before you with his hands on his hips and his eyebrows raised so high that they were lost in his hair.

“Care fo explain?” He asked sternly.

You shook your head back and forth quickly, trying to put your hand over your mouth as if it would hide your giggles, “No, daddy!” You cheered back, trying to keep up your innocent act.

“You’re six now, Y/n,” He reminded you, “You should start taking responsibility for your actions.”

“But I didn’t do it!” You protested, though your wide grin told a whole different story.

“I suppose the vase just fell over on its own then,” Your father said sarcastically.

You jumped on that story, nodding your head vigorously, “Yeah! It fell over on its own, daddy!”

He sighed, bending down and scooping you up into his arms, playfully poking your stomach, “You’re too stubborn for your own good…” He trailed off before snickering slightly, “I suppose you get that from me.”

I’d give all I have honey, if you could stay like that

“Jay Jay!” You cheered, immediately hopping into your elder brother's arms as soon as he exited the batmobile.

With a small chuckle, he caught you effortlessly before bringing you to a tight hug to his chest, “And how’s my favorite little sister doing this evening?” He asked jokingly.

You laughed loudly, shaking your head at his silly actions, “I’m your only sister!” You accused.

He pretended to think, “Hmm, is that so?”

Before you could try and reinforce that, Tim and Dick exited the vehicle as well, “Timmy! Dickie!” You cheered, causing Jason to scowl at the pair for pulling your attention away.

Dick squealed excitedly, rushing over and ripping you out of his grip and into his own, “N/n!”

Tim reached over and ruffled your hair slightly in affection.

“Daddy! Daddy!” If it was possible, your face lit up even more as your father appeared, shedding off his cowl and striding over to you.

“Hey there, honey.” He greeted with a small chuckle, gently removing you from his eldest sons grip and bringing you into his own, “Isn’t it a little past your bedtime?” He teased, playfully rubbing his nose against yours.

You giggled at the tickling feeling and pull back slightly, “Nuh uh, daddy! Grandpa said I can stay up to see you!”

“Is that so?” Bruce threw a playfully accusing glare to Alfred in the corner of the room, who held his hands up in surrender with a small smile, “Come on,” He huffed teasingly, “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Dickie!” You exclaimed, straining to look over your shoulder at the boy, “Airplane! Airplane!”

With a wide grin, the boy skipped over and carefully removed you from your fathers arms and laid you horizontally so that you could spread out your wingspan and pretend you were flying.

“We should call it the batplane,” Tim snickered.

“Batplane! Batplane!” You chanted in return.

Everyone’s eyes softened as they watched you laugh loudly.

Oh, darlin’, don’t you ever grow up

“Go fish!” You exclaimed sassily, giggling wildly at the feigned expressions of horror that your entire family wore all around the table.

Dick let out a fake groan, dropping his head into his hands, “How do you always win this game?”

You shrugged happily, humming slightly as you picked up the cards, “I’m awesome.” You giggled again.

“Who wants cookies?” Alfred entered the room with a soft smile, it widening slightly at the sound of all the children’s excited squeals.

Dick, Tim, and Jason all shot up out of their seats and began shoving and tackling each other to get to the tray of desserts first while Bruce just ran a hand down his face tiredly.

“Uh, uh, uh,” The older man calmly sidestepped the herd of boys, “Miss. Y/n gets the first one because she is not acting inappropriately.”

You giggled again at their groans of protest, happily reaching for a cookie and leaning up to plant a quick kiss on Alfred’s cheek, “Thank you!” You chirpped, plopping back down into your seat and munching on the treat.

Don't you ever grow up

“What is this thing?” Damian asked in disgust, looking down at your grinning form.

Bruce sighed, bending down and picking you up, you automatically wrapping your arms around his neck in return, “She is your little sister.” He introduced, “Y/n, this is your brother, Damian.”

“More brothers!” You cheered.

Damian scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “That thing is not my sister.” He declared stubbornly, turning a harsh glare your way.

“Don’t talk or look at her like that,” Your father scolded with a scowl, but your smile didn’t drop.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dami!” You giggled a little bit, looking up at him with wide, adoring eyes.

“Damian.” He corrected through gritted teeth, “My name is Damian.”

“She’s your sister,” Bruce hissed at him, “You have to learn to deal with that.”

“Dami!” You giggled wildly, making Bruce tighten his grip on you so you didn’t slip out by mistake.

The boy glared at you in a way that promised danger until your father had to step away with you in fear of something actually happening.

“I know you don’t like it,” The man said softly, “But you’re gonna be staying with me at the manor now, and you’re going to have to get used to her.”

The young boy crossed his arms over his chest and began grumbling under his breath. Though, his glare did lessen a bit after those words.

Just stay this little

“What do you think you are doing?” It had been four weeks since Damian moved into the manor, and he had avoided you at all costs.

You whipped around with wide eyes, “Dami!” You squeaked in shock, looking up at your elder brother nervously, “I was just-“

“Have I not specifically informed you not to touch Titus?” He seethed, standing in his bedroom door menacingly.

You looked down guiltily and began shuffling your feet, dropping your hand that had been softly stroking the dog's soft fur from where he was perched on the bed, “I’m sorry,” You mumbled.

The boy scoffed with a roll of his eyes, “I do not want your pathetic apology.” He told you matter of factly.

“Titus is just such a sweet puppy,” You sadly looked up at the dog that had perked up in wonderment as to why you stopped giving him attention.

That made Damian pause, “Oh… yes. He is a good dog.” He replied hesitantly.

“Sorry for bothering you,” You mumbled again, trying to make your way past him.

“Wait,” He surprised both you and himself with his word, but you froze nonetheless, “I suppose it would not hurt for you to pet him for a few more moments.”

A wide grin broke out and your face and you automatically dashed back to the creature and began rubbing behind his ears excitedly.

“I love animals,” You began rambling happily, “They’re so adorable and sweet. I would like to have more pets, I need to tell daddy that we don’t have enough. Maybe I’ll get Jay Jay a snake, I think he’ll like one-“

For the first time, Damian looked at you in a different light. Instead of just seeing some eight year old nuisance, he finally saw a kid only a couple years younger than him that might possibly share some common interests. Maybe having you as a sister wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up

“Where are you?” Jason called in a sing-song voice, fighting off a smile as he pretended not to be able to hear your poorly muffled giggles.

He stalked down the long aisles of the bookcases in the library, where he had heard your little feet scamper off into during the beginning of the hide-and-go seek game.

Even though you were now ten years old, you weren’t any better at the game than you were at four years old, but Jason never had the heart to tell you that.

“Are you... over here?” He dramatically rounded one of the corners, raising his voice as he spoke even though he knew full well that you wouldn’t be there.

The sound of your laughter only increased at his failure and the smile grew on his lips as he strode closer and closer to your ‘hiding spot’.

“Now,” He mockingly thought out loud, “I wonder where she could be…”

Right on cue, he threw open a small closet that was tucked in between two bookcases, emitting a shrill shriek from your lips at the sudden brightness and your brother's face grinning down at you.

“Found ya,” He teased.

You laughed, “I wanna do it again, Jay!” You eagerly jumped up and skirted past him, “Count again!”

He chuckled, but placed his hands over his eyes and followed your instructions.

Don't you ever grow up

“And how was your day today, Miss. Y/n?” Alfred asked with a small smile, glancing over his shoulder to where you sat propped up on the counter, kicking your legs back and forth.

“It was good, I saw a puppy today!” You exclaimed excitedly, seemingly having waited for that very question so that you could share the good news.

“Did this puppy happen to live in this manor?” The man hummed in curiosity.

You shook your head back and forth, getting even more excited, “Nope! My teacher brought it into school today and his name is…”

Alfred just listened and nodded along with your joyful rambling, loving the way you got so excited about small things, even as you got older.

It could stay this simple

Many years ago, a tradition had started between you and your siblings that every Friday night before they went on patrol you would all have a movie night in your at-home theater.

Bruce had joined you that night and you were all lounged around on various different couches and chairs comfortably, watching whatever movie Damian had insisted upon watching.

Your father leaned back in his seat with a contempt sigh, grateful for some time to relax after a long day and what would surely turn into a long night.

The credits began rolling, and instead of hearing you and your siblings begin to chat loudly amongst yourselves, it stayed dead silent.

He quickly snapped his head over in alarm, only for his eyes to soften.

You were leaning your head against Dicks shoulder with his head on top of yours, sleeping soundly on a nearby couch. Tim, Damian, and Jason were also asleep on their nearby pieces of furniture.

A small smile tugged at the ends of the man’s lips and he stood up silently, he would let them all rest. He could survive one night without them.

I won't let nobody hurt you

“I’m gonna kill you!” Your classmate roared, reeling his fist back and getting ready to release it in your face.

Unwavering, you stood your ground with your arms in front of yourself protectively as you stared him down, completely unafraid.

He was a stereotypical mean boy jock that just so happened to make the wrong comment in front of you. And when you called him out on it, he had been less than happy. Everything quickly escalated from there into a full out fist fight outside after school.

Easily, you ducked and side stepped his pathetic attempt at a punch, sending him stumbling forward because he made the rookie mistake of putting all his weight behind it.

Reaching over, you socked him in the face in one swift motion, sending him flying back down.

“You bitch!” He cried, emitting some laughs from the onlooking crowd due to his embarrassed state.

Quickly, he got up and went to lunge at you.

“What is happening?” Damian’s voice made everyone freeze, your older brother having been able to intimidate everyone in the school.

The boy froze at the sound of the older boy and slowly turned towards him with wide eyes, paling even further at the sight of his glare.

“Sh-she-“ He tried to stutter out.

Damian paid him no mind, calmly turning to face you, “What happened?”

“He tried to hit me after I called him out for being an asshole,” You spit out.

Menacingly, your brother turned to said boy and the onlooking crowd held their breath in preparation for what was to come.

A fury seemed to set in the already embarrassed boys gut, because he let out a scream of rage and went to lunge at both of you this time.

“What the hell is going on here?” Yet another booming voice stopped all further action as none other than Jason Todd came stomping angrily through the crowd towards you and Damian.

If everyone was scared of Damian, then they were down right petrified of Jason.

Everyone in the school had heard the horror stories of when your brother ran amok in the halls and reeking havoc during his high school years.

Quickly, everyone scrambled away from the scene, except for the boy, whose collar Damian was holding onto.

“He tried to fight our sister.” The boy informed your older brother calmly.

“Is that so?” Jason turned to him with his eyebrows raised mockingly before he smiled in a similar manner, “We can’t have that, now can we?”

Won't let no one break your heart

“Where are you going?” It was an innocent question, simple even, but it still made you freeze in your steps nonetheless.

Slowly, you turned on your heel to face your brothers, who all now looked up from whatever they were doing in the living room to stare at you in curiosity.

“You look nice!” Dick chirped.

“Thanks,” You tried your best to keep your voice from wavering, failing.

Jason however, wasn’t as easily distracted as your eldest brother, “Where are you going looking so nice?”

From beside him, Tim raised an eyebrow, piecing it together pretty quickly. Unlike the rest of your brothers, who for the most part were slowly but surely getting it.

It was silent for a moment before Dicks eyes widened in horror and he shot to his feet, “You’re going on a date?” He shrieked in horror.

You blew out a huff of air, “It’s no big deal.”

“I beg to differ!” He had begun dramatically doubling over and hyperventilating.

Jason narrowed his eyes, “Who are you going on a date with?”

“A date?” Damian looked back and forth between everyone in confusion, “You all told me that she was only fourteen and therefore not allowed to go on one until she was much older.”

You threw your head back with a groan, “That’s not true! I am more than old enough!”

“We just don’t want you getting hurt,” Tim tried to reason calmly.

“You’re too young to date!” Dick sobbed, stumbling over and throwing his arms around you in a tight bear hug.

Jason stood, crossing the room and looking down at you sternly, “I agree with Dickie-Bird, I don’t think you should go on this date.”

“What do you even know about them?” Tim offered, “Probably not enough to risk going on a date.”

“I do too know enough about them,” You grumbled, prying Dicks arms off of you.

“Tell me their address right this minute and I will judge if they are worthy enough!” Your youngest older brother declared.

Everyone ignored him.

Jason sighed through his nose, “We just want what’s best for you,”

You softened at that, relaxing in Dicks death grip that was intended to keep you from leaving the manor, “I get that,” You reassured them, “But you also have to realize that I’m growing up. And with that comes different things. Like dates.”

All four of them hesitated, “I still don’t like this,” Tim said after a moment, “But youre right.”

“I want you to text me every five minutes so I know that you’re alright.” Jason said, immediately followed by sounds of agreement from the other three.

“No,” You groaned.

“Fine… every ten minutes.” Tim reasoned.

You stood there for a moment, contemplating his words before ultimately deciding that the only way you would be getting out of there anytime soon was to agree to their terms.

“Fine,” You sighed, “Dick. You have to let go of me.”

He just stood there for a moment, sniffling slightly, before hesitantly pulling away with a look for complete sadness overtaking his features.

“Guys, I’ll be fine,” You reassured them with a small smile before slowly backing away and walking out the door.

“She’s growing up,” Tim stated after a moment with a frown pulling at the ends of his lips.

And no one will desert you

“Hands in the air!” A voice boomed through the building, causing all festivities to halt in their places automatically, “We’re robbing this damn joint!”

Immediately, everyone in the room went to the ground with their hands raised, Jason dragging you down alongside him with a soft curse, “I told Bruce this charity gala wasn’t a good idea.” He muttered.

You locked eyes with your father and Damian, the only other two there, from across the room and he silently begged you with his eyes to do as the people said and stay down.

Multiple figures with masks and guns moved up and down the room, shoving anything expensive- looking enough into some sacks that they carried.

Your entire body tensed when one of the people froze in front of you, slowly looking down at you and your brother.

With wide eyes full of fear, you allowed your hand to latch onto your brother's wrist as he shifted his body to be between you and the man.

“Hey, get a load of this!” He called in a mocking way, “These are those Wayne kids!” Clearly he hadn’t noticed your father and other brother on the other side of the room.

A couple of his friends glanced over at him with nods, not stopping what they were doing.

“You reckon they’re worth anything if we take ‘em?” Another one called out, and you had to physically restrain yourself from letting out a whimper, all other gala guests smartly choosing to stay silent.

The first one shrugged and moved as if to grab you, causing Jason to immediately shoot to his feet with a glare that could put everyone in the room six feet under, “Don’t you dare touch her,” He warned dangerously despite the gun pointed to his chest.

Right on cue, the doors slammed open and in rushed none other than Dick and Tim, suited up as Nightwing and Red Robin, quickly taking over the situation and knocking out all the robbers.

Jason turned to you as guests began to scramble out, “Are you alright?” He asked quietly.

All you could do was nod, throwing your arms around him and burying your face in his chest. You had never been in as much danger as you had just been in that day. And it terrified you.

“You’re alright,” He whispered softly, rubbing your back comfortingly, “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

Just try to never grow up

“Shut up!” Jason snapped, elbowing Tim harder than necessary, making the boy stumble a bit from where he stood.

The younger of the two whipped around and glared at his brother, “Elbow me one more time.” He challenged through gritted teeth.

“You wanna go-“

“Alright, alright,” You got between the two with a huff, giving them each a small push apart, “Break it up, we have bigger things to worry about then you two breaking each other's faces.”

“Yes.” Damian agreed with narrowed eyes, “Wait until after we have surprised Pennyworth, like civil beings.”

Dick just kept on humming happily and mixing the ingredients for cookies in a large bowl that rested on the counter, “I can't wait to see the look on his face! Oh, this was such a good idea to surprise him for his birthday!” He gushed.

“Well, n/n is pretty good at coming up with plans,” Jason momentarily let his fight go and walked back to the bowl and carefully watched it.

“Here,” Tim walked over and picked up the bowl, “Let's bring this over here so we can-“

He cut himself off when his foot caught on the edge of the counter and he was sent stumbling forward, making the bowl tip over and land right on none other than Jason.

Silence rang through the kitchen as everyone froze in pace, mortified at what they had just witnessed.

Jason slowly turned his head up, “Why, you little-“

“Hey! Hey!” Dick scrambled forward and grabbed the arm Jason had begun winding up to punch Tim, “Let’s not get into this again. We can remake the dough-“

Using his other hand, Jason took a large handful of dough off of his shirt and flung it straight into Tim’s face, your eyes widening even more at the sight.

Next thing you knew, dough began flying every which way, hitting everyone in its path. Less than a minute passed before you were all covered head to toe with chocolate chips and unbaked cookie dough.

“What is-“

You all froze at the sound of Alfred’s voice, pausing a moment before all whipping in his direction. The older man was looking back and forth between all of you with slightly parted lips.

“Surprise?” You squeaked out.

Never grow up

You yawned, “This is more boring then the time we had to sit through dads speech about the importance of sleep.”

“Agreed,” Damian grumbled from beside you, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning down further into his seat, “I suppose father has a knack for talking for obnoxious amounts of time and not once making it of any interest to us.”

The two of you continued to stare at Bruce up on stage, giving a speech about one thing or another and trying not to fall asleep.

“If he tired dragging us to one more of these things,” You mumbled, eyes dropping slightly, “I say we pull a Jason and steal the tires off of his car.”

“Agreed.” Your brother grunted.

You're in the car on the way to the movies

“Movies! Movies! Movies! Movies!” You and your siblings all chanted in sync.

Bruce let out a tired groan, running a hand down his face as he pretended not to notice the way Alfred was chuckling slightly from the driver's seat.

“If you all keep being this loud, you’re going to get us kicked out of the theater again.” He reminded you tiredly.

Jason scoffed, “Don’t act like you can’t just buy the theater so that they can’t kick us out!”

“I can't keep doing that everytime one of you messes up.” Bruce stressed.

It was silent for a moment, then the chanting started again, twice as loud this time.

“Movies! Movies! Movies! Movies!”

And you're mortified your mom's droppin' you off

“Dad,” You grumbled, dropping your head into your hands, “I told you not to drop me off!”

Bruce looked over at you sternly, “Is this still about us being billionaires?” He questioned.

“I just don’t want people treating me any differently if they know!” You insisted.

Somehow, you had been able to keep it away from your new, out of school friends that you were the daughter of the Bruce Wayne. And you planned on keeping it that way.

“There’s no reason to be ashamed of who you are.”

“It’s not that I’m ashamed, dad,” You told him, “I just don’t want them being nice to me just because we have a lot of money.”

That made him pause, and after a moment, he pulled over to the side of the road.

You show him an appreciative look and quickly leaned over and placed a quick kiss on his cheek before hopping out of the car, “Thanks, dad! I love you!”

He smiled softly, “I love you too, sweetie. Have fun.”

At fourteen, there's just so much you can't do

You threw your head back with a groan, causing Tim to glance over at you sympathetically, “This is so stupid!” You complied with a grumble.

“I know,” He agreed.

“Why do I even have to do this?” You crossed your arms tightly over your chest and sunk farther down into the chair you sat in at a desk in the batcave.

“Cause it’s homework and getting an education is good for you,” The boy hummed.

“Easy for you to say,” You scoffed, “You’re naturally smart. You don’t have to worry about this.”

He sighed, moving his chair over next to yours, “Alright, what do you need help with?”

You perked up immediately, face lighting up like a Christmas tree, “Yes, yes, yes! You’re the best brother ever!” You gushed.

“I said I would help you, not do it for you.” He warned and you waved a dismissive hand.

“Yeah, yeah, same difference.”

And you can't wait to move out someday and call your own shots

You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest, “Don’t act as if they didn’t start when they were way younger than me!”

Bruce rubbed his hands down his face in frustration, “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to be like them.”

“I don’t!” You protested angrily, “I want to be like them! I want to help people!”

He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, “This is not up for discussion, Y/n.” He told you firmly, “It’s too dangerous.”

Your mouth dropped open and you gaped at him, “Too- too dangerous?” You seethed, “So it’s alright for my brothers to go out every night fighting crime as this city vigilantes with you, but not if I do it?”

“Yes!” He finally snapped, “Yes, alright? I don’t want you getting hurt! I will not let you go out there and risk your life every night. The- the boys have their reasons for doing it, but you don’t have any reason. I need you to stay here. Safe.”

You recoiled slightly at his words, “You think I can't handle it?” You whispered.

His head shook back and forth again, “That's not what I said, and you know it. You can handle yourself, I just don’t want you to need to.”

“I want to help people!” You insisted desperately.

“Help them in a different way.” His tone was final, leaving no more room for discussion, “Because I will not let you fall into this life. I couldn’t stop them from joining, but I sure as hell will stop you.”

You stared at him for a moment in an eerie silence before turning on your heel and storming out of the room, slamming the door shut harshly behind you.

Bruce flinched slightly at the noise and dropped his head into his hands.

But don't make her drop you off around the block

“I just don’t want them seeing the car.” You tried to reason, using your fathers excessive amount of money as an excuse.

“You sure about that?” Jason turned his head from the passenger seat with a smirk, “Sure you’re not just embarrassed of me and Dickie-Bird?”

You groaned, sinking further into the backseat and burying your head in your hands, “Please just drop me off around the corner.”

Your brother feigned worry, “But how will we know that you got to the movies safe, then?”

Dick snickered slightly, but pulled over where you asked nonetheless, “Come on, Little Bird. I know you used to hate this just as much as she does.”

“But we love you!” Jason teasingly called as you hurriedly exited the vehicle and slammed the door with more force than necessary, fear of someone hearing him taking over.

Their laughter did follow you all the way through the doors of the cinema, though.

Remember that she's gettin' older too

“What is it- what happened?” A look of complete horror and desperation painted your features.

You had just been getting ready to turn in for the night when you had heard a lot of commotion coming from the batcave, which was rare considering your family wasn’t normally back from patrol for at least another four hours. And even then, they always stayed as quiet as they could as to not wake you.

Alfred sighed immediately moving to gently grasp onto your arms, “Master. Bruce was shot, but-“

“Dad was shot?” You looked like you were about to throw up, but you tried to stumble past Alfred to go farther into the cave, nonetheless, shaking off his grip.

He gently reached out and grabbed you by the shoulders, trying to halt all further movements from you, “But he’ll be fine,” He continued his previous sentence reassuringly, “And I don’t think it’s wise for you to have to see him like that. He wouldn’t want you to see him like that.”

“B-but-dad-he-“ You began to become overwhelmed as you frantically stuttered things out, trying and failing to form a coherent thought.

“He’s right, n/n,” You hadn’t even noticed Dick approach the two of you until he was right in front of you and speaking.

Your head snapped over to your oldest brother, taking in his soft expression as he gently tried to urge you to calm down.

Vigorously, you shook your head back and forth and pushed away from both of them, heading straight for the room you knew they all went to whenever one of them was injured.

You pushed the door open, ignoring the way Tim shot out of his seat beside Bruce’s bed as you did so, your breathing becoming a shaky and uneven pace.

Bruce slowly moved his head to look at you, and when he did, his eyes turned sad in a way you grew to despise, “N/n-“

“Are you okay?” You asked in a panic-filled tone, rushing over to his side.

A blanket lay over his body so you couldn’t see where he was shot, “Yes, I’m fine.” He had the audacity to chuckle.

“This isn’t funny.” You snapped, “How is this at all funny?”

He quieted for a moment, neither of you paying any kind of attention as Tim slipped out of the room after giving you a small squeeze on the shoulder.

“You’re right, it’s not. I’m sorry.”

For the first time in your life, your father looked small to you, weak. He was always strong and determined, sure. But never had you seen him look like he did now. And it scared you.

“Dad-“ You hadn’t even realized when tears had began to roll down your cheeks, but they did and you tried to bite your bottom lip to stop sobs from slipping through.

“Come here,” He prompted softly, and you didn’t hesitate.

You rushed over to his side and fell into the chair Tim had previously been sitting in, your hand shooting out and holding onto his tightly.

“I-I don’t want to see you hurt,” You admitted tearfully.

“I know, I know.” He reached his other hand over and softly moved a piece of fallen hair out of your face, “I hate having you see me like this.” He paused, “But I would hate seeing you like this even more.”

Your eyes shot up, “Dad-“

“You know how you feel about me being like this?” He continued, “I would feel ten times worse if it was you out there instead of me, that’s the reason I don’t want you out there. Because I wouldn’t be able to handle it if something were to happen to you.”

Silence fell over the two of you like an uncomfortable blanket for a minute before you slowly nodded your head, “Okay,” You whispered, “Okay, I’ll stop trying to go out with you guys. But only if you promise that all of you will be safe. That’s the only reason I ever wanted to go in the first place, to make sure you guys were all alright.”

He squeezed your hand in appreciation, “I promise you, n/n, we’ll all be safe.”

And don't lose the way that you dance around in your PJs getting ready for school

You sang loudly to the song playing over the speaker as you spun back and forth along the kitchen floor, packing your lunch for the day.

Perhaps the music was too loud, or you were too much in your own world, because you didn’t even notice the way your brothers all crowded in the doorway, laughing quietly at your antics.

Naturally, Dick had his phone out and was recording the moment that no doubt would be used as blackmail later, but none of them could shake the soft smiles they felt unconsciously growing on their faces at the sight of it.

You looked so young and carefree, like you were five again.

Oh, darlin', don't you ever grow up

“They’re really beautiful,” You admitted with a dreamy sigh, leaning further back into your seat to look up at the sky filled with thousands of stars in complete wonder.

Your father hummed in agreement from beside you, “They are.”

About a week ago, you had been complaining to him that you were hardly ever able to see any stars at night due to the bright city lights, so he decided to surprise you by taking a night off of patrol and bringing you up, over the clouds in the batplane to see them. Just the two of you.

“I can’t believe that I’m seeing them this close,” Your wide, full of wonder, eyes were yet to tear away from the devastatingly beautiful scene.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, each observing the various constellations at your own pace.

“Dad?” The man’s head lulled to the side to find you already looking at him, “Thank you.”

He smiled softly, leaning over and gently kissing your temple, “No need to thank me. I’m glad we did this.”

Don't you ever grow up

They were the loudest in the audience by far. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to be even slightly embarrassed. If anything, your grin only widened at their proud features.

Their claps and cheers of your name were enough to make your legs move across the stage as you graciously accepted your diploma before waving it in the air excitedly at them.

All in the front row, your father, honorary grandfather, and brothers all jumped up to keep their clapping, even Damian didn’t pretend not to care.

Tears shone in each and every one of their eyes as they watched you were about to take your final steps off the stage, officially having graduated high school.

Of course, there was an immense amount of pride and joy in their hearts, but there was also a sinking feeling inside that made the tears keep rolling.

The second you stepped off of that stage, you would no longer be a child. You would be off to college. You would have grown up.

Deep down, they all knew they had been dreading this very moment for as long as they could remember, but they never really anticipated what would happen when the day actually came.

But instead of voicing these thoughts and ruining your day, they continued to let their applause boom through the auditorium.

The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things @ladyagagaslefttoe @xbergiex @kiyomi-uchiha777

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samandcolbyownme · 1 year ago

Text

Summary: anon request - "can you do one where y/n likes Colby and he likes her but they don't really do anything about it but flirt until they're at the spot and a ghost/demon thing (you can completely make up the scenario), torments and targets y/n to the point she's crying and runs out with Colby chasing after her? Pleaseeeee"

Warning: This one shot will start out kinda funny and flirty between reader and Colby, but it will get dark and contain the reader being targeted by the spirits and some actions include; being touched, pushed, choked, scratched, spoken to, and other things some readers might find a bit creepy. There will also be mentions of murder at the place of exploration and other bad things some readers may be triggered by.

Read with care my lovelies!

Word count: 10.3k

Disclaimer: I completely made this story up!

"We're going to explore the Hellriegel Manor in a few days.. you in?" Colby says on the other end of the phone. You smile to yourself and sigh, "I suppose I can make time in my very busy schedule for you."

You are always up for doing a video with them, even hanging out with them off camera. You've known them for a while, so sleeping over at their place or in the same tent while in the middle of some haunted woods wasn't that big of a deal, or so you thought.

"You better, y/l/n. We need you on this one." Colby chuckles to myself, "Plus, we kinda miss you out here."

You liked Colby, a lot actually. Sam is always teasing you guys, mainly because he knows he likes you too, but you both always shoot it down for stupid reasons.

You thought that maybe it would be best if you just kept him as a close friend, but the light flirting and how comfortable you are with each other makes it incredibly hard, not to mention, you and Colby are always thinking about each other though, especially when you crash at their place, and when you're asleep in a tent within in an arms reach away from each other.

You laugh as you hear Sam in the background yelling, "Don't let him lie to you y/n. He's been crying like a baby every night since you've been gone."

Point proven.

"Shut up, dude, my god. She can hear you." Coby says with a groan and you can tell that he's getting shy, "Fuck." You picture his big smile as you grab your laptop, listening to them bicker back and forth like usual.

You had to admit, you missed them, too. Even though you're visiting your family on the east coast, you honestly felt homesick.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow." You bite your lip, waiting for a response but it's quiet, "Um, hello?"

You hear muffled yelling, and you already know that it's Colby trying to get Sam to keep his mouth shut, "That's great, y/n! See you tomorrow!" Colby yells over Sam trying to yell out.

"Stop it. Please." You can hear Colby laugh, and Sam yells, still slightly muffled, "Bye!"

You hang up and shake your head laughing as you click open a new tab and type in the place Colby said you're going.

"Hellriegel Manor." You repeat to out loud after reading one do the old newspaper headlines. You scroll down as your eyes scan over the screen,

Multiple prostitutes brutally murdered in Hellriegel Manor

Callum Hellriegel is the devil himself

The ruthless murder of Hellriegel Manor revealed

Callum Hellriegel, killer found dead by self inflicted gunshot wound to head

The town thinks workers at the manor were involved

You blink a few times, shaking your head as you let out a sigh. You reach for your phone and FaceTime Colby.

He picks up fast, "Hey."

"So a possible demon. That's nice." You look into the camera and tilt your head. He takes a deep breath and lets out a long sigh, "I was trying to wait until you got here to tell you, but I guess cats out of the bag."

You nod, "Yeah, yeah." You laugh slightly and squint, "Oh no." Colby looks behind him then back to you, "What?"

"It's quiet... did you finally kill Sam?" You smile slowly and he laughs, "No, no. He's upstairs editing."

"So I called at the right time then, huh?" You tease and he nods with a smile, "Yeah, yeah, you did."

You move back onto your bed, continuing to look up the manor, "Colby."

"Yes?" He asks staring at you through his phone, but he looks away when you look, "This place looks fucking creepy, and it sounds even worse."

You know what he's about right say next, so you cut him off by speaking, "I'm still going." You bite your lip as you read, "I think with having a girl there, it might help us figure out what really happened."

He nods, "I was taking to Sam about that, too, actually. It also might be the worse because of how bad that Callum dude is made out to be."

"Yeah, but.." You nod slowly as you read more, and your eyes widen, "Colby."

"Y/n."

"Do you know what Hellriegel means?" Your eyes move over to your phone that's propped up against your computer screen and he shakes his head, "Probably something not good."

"It means the Devil, in German." You swallow slowly, "Fuck I have the chills now."

"Again.. if you do-"

"I'm going." You smirk, "My flight is already booked and.." just as you were about to say something really sweet, you hear Colby groan and Sam appears on the screen, "Ayo!"

You laugh and wave, "Hi again Sam."

"She's looking up Hellriegel Manor." Colby looks up at him and he sighs, "Does that mean you cancelled your flight?"

You scoff, "Please. Do you not have any faith in me, Golbach?" He smirks and rolls his eyes, "You right. Plus you'll have this guys, Mr intimidator here, to protect you." He grabs Colby's shoulders and shakes him slightly.

Colby's face is turning red, but so were your cheeks. You had to admit, it's getting a lot harder for you to resist each other, especially when he is making sure you're okay in the middle of an investigation.

He was and is the one you run to when you're jumping out of your skin scared.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. I gotta go tell my parents that I'm leaving tomorrow." You pick up your phone and set your laptop down before you get up.

"Text us your landing time and we'll be here." Sam says and you give him a thumbs up. He walks away and Colby points the phone back to him, "Tell them we said hey and I'll see you tomorrow."

You smile and nod, "I will, and I'll see you tomorrow."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You couldn't stop thinking about what Colby said, about this possibly being a bad idea about you going, but you never turned away an adventure with Sam and Colby.

You're not going to start now.

As you walk through the airport, you hear your name being called. You jump slightly and turn, seeing Sam and Colby walking up to you.

"How was your flight?" Sam asks bringing you in for a hug. You hug him back, "It was alright, boring but alright." You look over at Colby who can't wait to have you in his arms, as you lean back from Sam.

"Glad you made it here safe." Colby wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close to him. You close your eyes, happy to be back with them until Sam clears his throat, "Maybe get a room or something?"

"Dude." Colby says loosening his arms from your waist as he turns to him trying not to laugh. You roll your eyes, "You'll never quit will you?"

He shrugs and holds his hands up, "Maybe if you guys would just admit that you like each other.."

"Oh my god." You try to hide your smile, but ayour cheeks regaining that blush of pink like normal doesn't help matters at all, "Can we just go please? I'm hungry."

Colby laughs slightly and wheels your suitcase behind him, "Yes. Please." He glares over at Sam who can't help but smirk at him.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Back at the house, they give you the rundown on what they know about Hellriegel.

"So as you already know, Callum Hellriegel was a very.." Sam trials off as he tilts his head and you raise your eyebrows, "Devil of a man?"

Sam nods, "Exactly."

Colby speaks up, "There's been a mix of good and bad investigations, so it's really hard to tell what exactly we'll be dealing with."

You nod, "Hmm. Well I mean, if it gets too bad we can always high tail it out of there."

Colby nods, "Yeah, exactly. did you read up on anything else after our call or no?" You shake your head, "Since you said you wanted to fill me in, I figured I'd wait. Hear what you have to say." You smirk slightly and he nods.

"How nice of you." Sam says laughing, "But on a serious note guys.." he looks to Colby and back at you, "we truly have no idea what we're going to walk into."

"That's the exciting part though, right?" You shrug and smile, trying to stay positive because you were actually shitting your pants about going to this place.

"Bingo." Sam points and looks at his phone when it goes off, "That's the owner of the manor.." he answers, "Hello?"

You and Colby exchange smiles as you look back to Sam who is nodding, "Alright sick, yeah thank you." He hangs up and looks between you and Sam, "Tomorrow night."

You're kinda shocked but then again, kinda not surprised that it's happening this soon, "Oh great."

"What? Getting scared are we?" Sam teases and you side eye him, "Where is your faith in me, Sam? We talked about this." You laugh and he shakes his head, "I honestly didn't expect him to let us in that easy. It's always been a fight for other investigators to go there."

You smile, "You guys are changing the world, how could they not?"

"You're a part of this team too, y/n.." Colby smiles and looks from you to Sam, "So we are changing the world." He looks back to you, "You sure you're up for this?"

"I'm sure."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

It wasn't until two am when you stared up at the ceiling, wondering if you really are sure about this. The more you thought about it the more it scared you but this is what you do, you remind yourself over and over again.

This is what you do.

Luckily, this isn't the first time you've been in this situation, and each time you are, both Sam and Colby make sure you're okay, along with each other of course.

You let out a sigh, rolling over to face the tv and your phone lights up. You reach out, grabbing it to pull back over to you and you see it's a message from Colby, I know you're nervous about this place and honestly.. we are too, but if things do turn bad, we'll get out of there.

You turn onto your back and a smile rests on your lips and your thumbs quickly tap the keyboard on your screen, I was actually needing that reassurance right now. I can't sleep because I am very nervous about tomorrow, but we've probably been through worse, right?

As you're waiting for a reply, you see a twitter notification pop up at the top of your screen and you laugh slightly, "Fucking Sam."

You click on the notification,

@/SamGolbach: New video popping up soon! @/Colbybrock, @/yourtwittername, and myself are going to be spending the night in the Hellriegel Manor. Stay tuned!!

You like the tweet and retweet it with a bunch of nervous face emojis and Colby instantly likes it.

You click on your group chat with both Sam and Colby, So we're all just up huh?

Sam texts back, Um, no. Only losers who won't confess their love for each other are awake at 2 in the morning

Same texts back again, talking about you Brock

Colby sends you a text separately then replies into the group chat, I'm not up what are you talking about?

You laugh as you type, bring the party down here, I'm kinda freaking myself out

Sam instantly replies, Take it to Colby's room

"Sam!" You hear Colby yell from upstairs and then a door opens, "Only trying to help." Sam says as he comes down the stairs, a shirtless Colby behind him, "Only making it worse, brother."

You sit up, looking back at them, "Can you turn the light on, please?"

Colby nods, flipping the light on and Sam instantly yells, "Oh my god, behind you."

You jump up off the couch, running backwards towards them and you push Sam when you turn to him, "Asshole."

"That wasn't cool, man." Colby shakes his head at Sam and you look up at Colby, "You can laugh." He fights it, and shakes his head, "No.. no.. it's alright."

You roll your eyes and make your way back to the couch, turning on a YouTube video about the manor, "Let's learn all we can shall we?"

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You don't even know when you fell asleep, you just know that when you woke up, you weren't alone. You look up at a still sleeping Colby, smiling slightly as you listen to him snore softly.

Your attention is ripped away when you hear Sam coming down the steps carrying his backpack, "Mornin' sleepy heads.. or head.. I'll let you wake the beast."

You smirk and shake your head, looking back at Colby, staring at him for a few seconds before tapping his chest, "Hey, Colbs."

He doesn't budge so you tap harder and lean in, "Colby." He jumps slightly and looks at you with an immediate smile taking over his face, "oh hey." He stretches his arm slightly, "What time is it?"

You tilt your head back, "Sam what time is it?"

"Almost time to leave."

"That doesn't give me a-"

"It's nine." He smirks when you look at him, raising his eyebrows as he motions to you and Colby, making a heart with his hands. You wave him off and look back at Colby, "It's nine."

He sighs and sits up, "Okay. So we have an hour until Sam wants to leave."

"You know me so well." Sam says walking over and grabbing stuff off the coffee table. You tilt your head, "More like you drilled it into our heads repeatedly last night."

He mocks you before sighing, "Do you have to fight me on everything?"

You stand up and stretch, "Would I be one of your friend if I didn't?"

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After getting everything around, you finally make your way to the car.

"I figured we could film the intro once we got there?" Sam says playing around with the camera. Colby nods, "Works for me."

You lean back in the seat, clicking on the message Colby sent you before they came downstairs last night, I really didn't expect you to be awake so this is awkward, but you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, right? And I don't just mean that with the ghost hunting.

You smile to yourself, but snap out of it when Sam starts talking and you know he's recording, "We are on our way to Hellriegel Manor, we just left a little bit ago so we should be there in like two hours or so. How are you guys feeling?"

He turns the camera to Colby, "Colby. How are we feeling, buddy?"

Colby shrugs and laughs, "I am ready to try and get answers on whether this is truly a demon or not."

Sam turns the camera back to you, "Y/n. You shaking in your boots back there?"

"No but I will be once we hit that final stretch towards it." You laugh, "I'm excited."

Sam turns the camera around so it's on all of you, "We will keep you guys updated along the way. So far it'll be driving but you guys, luckily get to skip that part." He cuts the camera off and you can't help but laugh.

"What?" Sam asks turning and Colby laughs with you, "I'm laughing because she's laughing."

You sigh, "I don't even know why I'm laughing. I think I'm nervous now."

"Well, we can drop you off here. It's not a long walk back." Sam teases and you know he can feel your glare through the back of his seat, Colby's too.

"I'm kidding. I'm kidding." Sam laughs and it's pretty much just joking back and forth the whole way there because let's face it, you were scared to go there and you were all worried about each other.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Sam clicks the camera on as you drive through the rusted old gate, "We have arrived at our destination." He points the camera to Colby and he gives a big smile as he laughs, "I think I just shit my pants. This place is fucking creepy even in the day time, man." He leans forward, looking at the huge, visibly old house.

"Look at those pillars." Sam says with a sigh, "I have a feeling we underestimated this guys."

You nod, "Mhm." Sam puts the camera on you as Colby parks the car and you purse your lips together, "I just got cold."

Both of them turn back to look at you, "Really?" Colby asks and looks at Sam, "That's not good."

Sam turns the camera around and makes a face, "We literally just pulled up and already one of us is feeling something. If that doesn't say anything about this place.."

"You guys didn't feel that? I mean maybe it was a freak thing, but as soon as we went through the gate, I felt something and then the closer we got to the house I got a chill."

"Wow." Sam is shocked, "Alright, well on that note, we'll see you guys in a second." He ends it and turns back to you, "Are you good?"

You nod, "Yeah, yeah. I'm good." Colby looks back at you, giving you an are you actually look and you nod again, "Let's go."

As you get out of the car, Sam starts rolling again, "Alright guys, we are here at the Hellriegel Manor." He shows the old building, "This place is just.. I don't know."

"I'll tell you what it is, insane." Colby says while straining his voice as he leans into the camera.

You knew tonight wasn't going to be a good night, for you at least. You have continuously felt energy since the moment you crossed through the gate, and some of it wasn't good.

"Y/n?" Colby says walking over to you, "You good? You just like zoned out for a minute there."

You blink a few times and look up at him, "We might not be spending the whole night here."

Sam moves up to you, "Really? Why do you-"

"Something just moved in that very top-right window." You point and Sam moves the camera up to it, "Shit, are you serious? Colby did you see that?"

Colby shakes his head, "Shit. No."

"You Sam and Colby?" An older guy who's followed by two more guys, yells out.

"Hey, yes sir.." Colby says walking over and you and Sam follow him, "I'm Colby, this is Sam, and y/n."

You all shake hands and the guy sighs, "I'm Dean, these are my two sons, Riley and Luke. What all have you heard about this place?"

"Callum Hellreigel is a big name attached to this place, right? He was the one who caused all of the prostitutes to go missing?" Sam asks as he hands the camera to Colby.

Dean nods, "Yeah, in or around 1927, it was rumored that the reason he was killing these women, was for sacrifices, but people who have worked in the house swore up and down he didn't but who knows.." as Dean goes on explaining more about the manor, you suddenly feel a wave of dizziness was over you and you close your eye.

"No shit." Colby nods, "Do you know why he was doing that or .. anything?"

"Whoa. Hey, y/n." Sam moves to your other side and taps your arm, "You with us?"

You slowly open your eyes, "He doesn't like us talking about him." You can tell everyone around you tenses, "Sam once you said his name, I got dizzy."

"He likes you." Dean says wagging his finger at you, "He always likes the pretty ones."

Colby shifts towards you and you look over at him. He hands the camera to Sam and looks back up at Dean who sighs, "You might have the best of luck tonight, y/n."

"Great." You laugh slightly, "We also heard that it's hit or miss with how good or bad it can be."

Dean nods, "Oh yeah. Very much so. We've had people come in who didn't get anything but a few knocks and we've had people who were so overwhelmed within two hours they had to leave."

"That's crazy, dude." Sam says and looks at you and Colby. Colby shakes his head and laughs slightly, "Well we mean no harm, we just want to try and figure out if those old news articles were right."

"There's another figure in the window." You point to the same window and they all look up but it disappears.

"Are you talking about the far window on the right?" Dean slowly turns towards you and you nod, "Mhm."

He nods, "That's where his room is."

"Am I seeing him?" Your heart starts to race and Dean shrugs, "Very well could be." He nods towards the house, "Come on, we'll give you the tour."

"Are you okay?" Colby asks holding onto your arm. You nod, "This is going to be a very good video for you guys.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"You know. During the day it's not as scary." Sam says with a nervous laugh, "Right?"

One of Dean's sons laughs, "Wait for sundown."

"I don't wanna wait for sun down.. sun please stay up." Sam laughs along with the rest of you.

"Now this room is the room where he held about five woman at a time. They'd come in here and basically wait for their turn with Callum." Dean opens the door and you guys walk into a small room, "There was always a guard, or whatever you want to call them, in here with them at all times."

"Oh wow." You shake your head, "This is.." you look around, "They were scared." Right after you say that, there's a thud and you all look towards the door.

"that sounded like it came from downstairs." Sam whispers, and soon after there's another thud, but closer. Colby walks over and looks, "There's no one out here dude. That was so loud, though."

"I'd say they were more than scared, sweetheart." Dean walks over and lifts up the loose wallpaper, revealing names that were scratched into the wall behind it, "Even the guards would mistreat the women who were held here."

"And he never got caught? How many years did he do this for?" Colby asks slightly confused, "like no one ever thought of check on the missing women from the town that's right down over the hill?" He laughs and looks at Sam who nods, "Right like you'd think that."

As they talk, you think for few moments quietly before tilting your head, "When we walk in, I could have swore I heard a whisper and now that I see this.." you walk over and bend down, "It was definitely Izzie."

"No fucking way." Sam says and walks over, showing the wall to the camera, "so like right when you walked in it was like bam someone whispering Izzie?"

You stand up and look at him, "I swear to god. I thought maybe I brushed against something like my jacket did.." you scratch your jacket off the wall, "but no. It was clearly a whisper."

"Oh my god." Colby says dragging it out slightly, "This is crazy."

"There's two more rooms you need to see, one of them being the basement." Dean motions for you guys to follow him and you make your way to the master bedroom.

"So this is where he stayed most of the time?" Sam asks, "With these prostitutes or whatever?"

Dean nods, "Yep, yeah he basically lived in here and right.." he pauses and walks over to the window and points on the ground, "..over here. Is where he shot himself."

"So wait.." you point to the window and walk over, looking out with a gasp, "oh my god." You look out at the spot you stood in when you seen the apparition in the window.

"Correct." Dean says and turns, "He would bring the women in here one at a time, do what he promised them lots of money to do and then they'd just never leave."

"That's dark, man. Sad too." Colby frowns and shakes his head. Dean nods, "So the other girls caught on pretty quick as to what was happening."

"I can't imagine the fear that was brought onto them as they waited to just die basically." Sam looks around amd Dean points to you, "If you want to try contacting him. You'll probably have the best luck. Lay on the bed if you feel brave enough."

Your heart sinks, "Oh shit, I don't think-" you look at the door quickly, but whatever was there vanishes, "the door way. Someone is watching us."

You walk over, looking out but nothing else is there. You turn back towards them, camera on you, "It's really cold right here."

"You're the first to honestly say they saw something in this room." Dean says and you raise your eyebrows, "Really?"

"Does he move around a lot or does he mainly stay in this room?" Colby asks but jumps when there's footsteps in the hallway. You lean back and shake your head, "Nothing."

"I've had people come in and say there's many, many spirits here." Dean points, "but the one I get feedback on most on the time is the basement. Lots say it's the worst, and I'll show you why." He motions for you to follow him.

Sam cuts the camera off, "I think you may be right, y/n." You walk with him and Colby as you follow the others, "We definitely underestimated this place." You look between them and walks down the steps.

As you approach the slightly skinny basement door, Sam starts recording as Dean turns to you, "You might not like it down here." He looks the door and he reveals a, very unsettling, dark stair well.

You turn and give the camera a fake crying face, "Oh no."

"There are no lights, we did put lights in, but they must not like them, so you have to use flashlights so be careful coming down." Dean says and everyone pulls their phones out and switches the flash on.

Dean and his sons go down first and you and the boys follow, "Hold on, I just want to see how dark it is." Sam switches off the light and everyone covers their lights, "Oh fucking hell."

You immediately grab onto Colby's jacket and his hand immediately goes to the side of your leg, both keeping a hold of each other until Sam turns the light back on. Colby laughs, "that's the, you can't see your hand in front of your face dark."

"Now, keep that in mind because down here.." Dean pauses, "They only had candles for light down here I'm pretty sure.."

You reach the bottom and your heart feels like it's working overtime. You feel dizzy, grabbing onto the first thing you could, Colby's arm, to not fall back.

"Whoa." He wraps an arm around your waist and you nod, "Dean.. let me tell you something.." you laugh slightly and point at him.

He nods, "You don't like it down here do you?" You shake your head, "Not at all." Your eyes scan over what you can see of the old jail cells.

You felt pain and sadness, and just flat out awful.

"Down here, they kept at least twenty more women at a time, five to a cell." Riley points, "Right above the last cell over there, is where the five upstairs were, so that cell you could hear almost everything, because there's a vent, for whatever reason."

"Did they make that vent so they could hear the screams and shit on purpose or?" Sam asks looking over towards the cell.

Dean nods, "I mean, it's very possible because it's literally just a straight shot, so. I wouldn't have put it past him, he was-"

A bottle rolls down the steps and you close your eyes, "No, no, no." You laugh nervously, "There's no fucking way."

"Are you kidding me right now?" Sam turns to Colby, "We didn't even start the investigation yet and a fucking bottle.. rolls down the steps?"

Colby's eyes are wide and his mouth is open, "Did you catch that?" Sam nods, "then sound and then maybe the end of it coming down." He sighs, "Oh what the hell did we get ourselves into?"

"I don't know but I'm scared." You admit, "This isn't going to be easy." You say into the camera and Colby crosses his arms, "What would they do down here exactly? To these women that were just held here waiting?"

Dean shrugs, "All of it.. and right over there around the wall of the stairs." He points and walks you guys over, "He had the women who, in the words of what I read and was told, couldn't please him like he wanted, tortured for hours on hours I guess."

"What did they do with the bodies? Do you know if they buried them or.." Sam asks and Dean shifts around slightly, "I just got a chill, but um.."

"Wait you just got a chill?" Colby steps forward, "It doesn't feel any different to me so that's creepy."

Dean chuckles, "Yeah, so anyway.. it was rumored they tried to cremate them theirselves, but I don't think it worked out, but when we were trying to clear some stuff out around the house, there was a well that was discovered and it had human bones in it, but no one really knows what happened to them they just vanished one day and no one asked questions."

"So there is a lot of pent up negative energy surrounding this manor." One of the guys says, but you're not focused on who. You shake your head, "Some just want to be free." You look at Sam and Colby, "Something is keeping them here and I think I know who it is."

"Oh god." Sam yells and jumps forward, spinning around really quick, "Something just grabbed my shoulder, swear to god."

"You good, man?" Colby walks up to him, and Sam nods, "Yes, yes. That just scared the shit out of me. Like I was just standing here and it felt like someone did this to me. But lightly." He demonstrates by grabbing Colby's shoulder.

"That may happen a lot more when we leave." Dean says and motions with his light to go back up.

Once you make it back outside, he turns towards the house, "Just keep reminding them why you are here and that you're the ones in control."

"Will that actually work?" Sam looks at Dean and he nods, "It'll definitely work for him." He points to Colby and you smile as you remember someone else telling Colby he's intimidating.

"I have been told that I intimidate spirits so.. that's my house now." He makes his voice strained, "No, im kidding. He laughs and Dean shakes his head, "No that's exactly it. Show you're in control and you should be fine."

"Should be, that's not too selling there, Dean." Sam says and looks at Colby. He shrugs, "I mean, it works for me."

"Well, good luck and if you're still here, I'll see you in the morning."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After getting the equipment from the car and talking for a little bit, it's almost dark so the three of you agree it's best to just start since you were already getting so much activity already.

"You good?" Colby asks as he sets up some stuff, getting it ready. You look up, "Yeah." You let out breathy laugh, "I'm nervous, but otherwise good."

"Oh shit." You hear Sam yell from outside, "No fucking way." You and Colby look at each other and run out, "What? what?" Colby asks going over to him.

You follow behind and he points, "I think I saw what you saw earlier, y/n. I turned the camera on but by the time I looked up, it was gone."

"Yeah, like it only wants you to see it, if it lets you." You run your hands over your face, "Okay so I think we should try and get something before we're basically chased out of here."

You come to regret saying those words, later on.

"Okay, yeah. So the living room area? See if we can get in touch with someone who worked here?" Colby says and Sam nods, "Let's do it."

As you walk up to the door, you turn around and look at Colby, "Did you just whistle?" He shakes his head, "No that wasn't me, was it you?" He points to Sam and he shakes his head, "No."

"There's a light whistle, but it sounded like it was right behind me." You close your eyes and shake your head, "Oh god."

"It's alright. Come on." Colby leads you into the living area and you stand over to the coffee table and set down the EMF, waiting for Sam and Colby to come in.

"Okay. Ill put a flashlight on the mantle here and-"

A loud knock cuts Sam off, "Did you hear that?" His eyes move between you and Colby and you both nod. He lets out a sigh, "Alright."

He starts rolling, "So we are here in the living room area of the Hellriegel Manor, and we've been hearing knocks.."

"A bottle rolled down the basement stairs, this place is absolutely insane already, but now we're here and we're going to start by asking some simple questions." Colby takes the camera from Sam so he can lay a flashlight on the mantle like he said, "We have just a regular flashlight here and then we have the EMF over there by y/n."

You switch it on and move away from it, "Do you want me to start?"

Immediately both the flashlight and the EMF lights up green. Sam and Colby both yell out, "Oh fuck dude."

You freeze, "Um. Okay. My name is y/n. I come with peace and just wanting to find out the truth about what happened here. Is there just one of you talking to us right now?"

You wait a few moments and as soon as you look at Colby it lights up red and the flashlight switches off.

Your eyes go wide as you look at Sam. His eyes search the floor as he thinks, "My name is Sam, I too come with peace, I just want to ask, are you trapped here?"

Colby moves the camera from the EMF to the flashlight, "Y/n. Repeat what Sam asked."

"Are you trapped here?" You ask and it's an immediate green light, no flashlight, "Am I speaking to one person now?"

Red light. Flashlight turns on making all of you gasp and yell. Colby shakes his head, "Dean was right, they must be drawn to her more than us."

Switches green and the flashlight stays on.

"That wasn't even a ques-" something falling from a shelf makes you jump and you bolt in between them, "Oh Jesus Christ."

"I'm Colby. I also come with peace. Was that you that just knocked that stuff over?" A few moments go by and nothing.

"If that was you, can you do it again, please?" You grip Colby's arm, "the hairs on the back of my neck just stood up." He looks down at you, "really?" You nod and Sam brings his hand up behind you, "It's literally only cold right here."

Suddenly you're pushed away from Colby, not hard, but enough to make you lean back.

"Did you just get pushed?" Colby asks, "You pulled me with you tha-"

What sounds like empty tin cans, hit the floor and roll, stopping in the entry way of the living room.

"Thank you." You say, "Am I speaking to the original owner of this house?" You let go of Colby and walk over to the doorway.

"Y/n, stay close please. This house is too un-" Colby gets cut off by the EMF lighting up red.

"Are you saying no to y/n's question?" Sam asks quickly and it flashes red. Your eyes go wide and you make your way back over to them, "Do you want me to stay close to Sam and Colby?"

Flashes red and the flash light turns on.

"Fuck me." You lay a hand on your face and the emf lifts up green.

"No." Colby says almost immediately, "You can't have her."

Flashes green and the flash light stays on.

You look at them, "I have to ask if it's him."

Flashes green again and the flash light goes off.

"Dude this is fucking wild, oh my god." Sam runs a hand through his hair, "Are you okay?" He looks at you and you nod, "Yeah, I'm good."

"I have a very important question for you." You move over and sit in the one chair, "Am I speaking to Callum Hellreigel?"

Lights up red and you feel kind of relieved until you see a shadow move on the stairs, "Fuck, the stairs. Something just went up."

"Are you going upstairs?" Colby asks and waits patiently. The EMF goes off and it's red, "Are you one of the women who were lured here and promised money?"

Lights up green.

"Is anyone else with you?" Sam asks and rests his hand against his chin.

Lights up green.

Just as Colby is getting ready to ask something you stand up, "Something just.." you point up and shake your head, "I just heard come on. Like something said come on."

"Is that you Callum? Are you trying to lure y/n up stairs?" Colby hands the camera back to Sam and looks over at you, no response.

"Okay, so they definitely move around." Sam sighs, "Fuck man. Y/n. How are you feeling?" You look over at them slowly, "Oh I'm great." You stand up, "Maybe we should move.."

"Where to next?" Sam asks and you walk over to them, "Upstairs. I don't think he killed himself."

They're both taken aback by what you said and Colby shakes his head, "Do you feel something towards that?"

You nod, "I have this.. uneasy feeling in my stomach and I get chills thinking about it. I don't think he shot himself."

The EMF reader lights up green and you jump slightly, "Fuck." Sam looks around, "Did you kill your self Callum?"

Nothing.

Colby repeats Sam's question exactly, nothing.

They both look at you, along with the camera and you take a deep breath and shake your head, "get the spirit box."

Sam stops recording, "That's a good idea. Where do you want to set up?"

Colby walks over to you and lays his hands on your arms, "You good to keep going?" You nod, "Yeah I need to find out what happened, I'm nosey." You laugh slightly and lean around to look at Sam, "Maybe top of the steps?"

He nods and you grab the equipment and look at the steps. Your eyes move up and down, getting a weird feeling about it, "Wait." You stop Sam and point to the floor at the bottom of the steps.

Colby starts recording and Sam sets it down, "let me just turn it on." He turns it on and a soft white noise fills the area.

Sam motions to you and you bite your lip, debating on which question to ask.

".. Up .."

"Yo, no." Sam covers his mouth and Colby laughs nervously, "No fucking way."

"Do you want us to go up the stairs?" You ask and chew on your nail.

".. Wall .. name.."

"Are you asking about the names on the wall in the room where the women were held?" Colby asks, "Did you whisper Izzie to y/n when we went in there earlier?"

A soft, 'y/n' is whispered behind you and you let out a slight yell, "Fuck, no. Someone just said my name."

"..Yes.."

"Callum was that you?" You close your eyes and shake it, letting out quiet, high toned "oh shit."

"Bed."

"Do you want us to go to the bedroom? Callum's room?" Colby asks rubbing his eyebrow and pulls you to him when you all clear as day hear,

"Just... her.."

"You can't have her." Sam says looking around, "You can't have any one anymore, do you hear me?"

".. Blood.. shed .."

"Doesn't mean blood shed, like bleeding or?" Colby asks Sam and he shakes his head, "I don't know, man."

"So scared."

"I know you're scared." You say and nothing else comes through.

"Why do you want y/n?" Colby asks moving the camera around, "Are you scared of us? I promise we mean no harm to any of you."

".. Pretty... girl .."

"do you guys feel okay?" You fan yourself, "I just got really hot all of a sudden." Colby hands the camera to Sam and feels your forehead, "You feel cold to me."

You're suddenly pushed backwards away from Colby's touch, "Fuck." He says pulling you over to Sam. He turns from recording the stairs, "What happened? What?"

Colby sighs, "She just got pushed again, dude."

"Maybe we should just go up." You close your eyes as Colby instantly disagrees, "Mm. No."

Sam cuts the camera off, "Colby. If she thinks she can-"

"We don't know what we're dealing with here, Sam. I'm not going to send her into a room alone." Colby argues.

".. Stop .."

"Stop what?" You ask and Sam turns the camera on, "So.. Colby felt y/n's head because she said she was hot and when he did that, y/n got pu-" a loud thud is heard from up stairs and Sam quickly turns the spirit box off and turns the camera to you guys, "Did you hear that?"

You nod, "Almost like.. a body falling onto the floor."

"That's what I was thinking." Coby says nodding.

Sam waits a few seconds more before picking up where he left off in a whisper, "So basically, whatever is here doesn't like us being close to y/n."

"Dean did say that she might be the target for tonight, just because of all the history with this place." Colby says.

"I think we should just do it because it's either his room or the basement and I'll tell you right now I'm not ready to go back down there yet." You chew on your cheek, "So let's just go up there and hit those rooms up there."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

There was a sudden decrease in activity in the other rooms but it quickly picked up when you moved back towards the bedroom.

"I think we should put the REM pod where Dean said he was shot." Sam suggests and you nod, "Yeah. That's good."

You have this feelings that something is watching you, and no it's not just Colby.

"Sam." Colby says, "You don't think.."

Sam stands up after checking the pod, "What?" Colby nods towards me, lowing his voice, "You don't think he's.. targeting her because of me do you?"

Sam glances at you and shrugs, "So you're admitting to liking her then?"

Colby sighs, "Yes, Sam. I'm admitting to it finally." He smiles but shakes his head, "That's not the point, how are we going to do this without any danger coming to her?"

"Why don't we just ask him?" You step forward, "You can be right outside the door."

Colby shakes his head, "No."

There's a loud bang and you jump, "Colbs. I got this. If anything happens, you'll be right outside." Sam starts rolling the camera, "So we are now in the room where Callum supposedly shot himself and y/n has decided to lay in Callum Hellreigel's very own bed. Alone."

Sam turns the camera to you, "How are you feeling?" You take a deep breath, "it is what it is right?" You shrug, but Colby didn't like that answer.

"I'll be fine." You hold two thumbs up and Sam points the camera at Colby, "Wanna tell them what we're doing?"

Colby clears his throat as he holds up the EMF, "We are going to set up y/n with the EMF as well, and she'll ask yes or no questions and hopefully we can get some answers.."

"Then we'll come back in after a little while and set up the spirit box, maybe catch something on that? I don't know how you guys feel about that.." Sam trails off and you nod, "Sounds good."

Colby's whole demeanor changed since you said you'll stay in the room by yourself. You keep looking at him, and he looks at you, but he has worry in his eyes.

"Alight so we're just going to put this in the corner here.." Sam says as he sets up the camera on the one stand, angled towards the bed and window.

Colby walks up to you, cupping your cheeks, "Anything, and I mean anything happens, yell, scream and we'll be here."

You nod, laying a hand on his, "I can handle this." You jump and Sam yells as something falls outside of the room, "What the fuck. That sounded like something massive."

"Shit." Colby says taking his hands away, "Sorry. Sorry." He holds his hands up and steps back from you. Your eyes move around the room as you make your way over to the bed, sitting criss cross, "See you soon."

"You're sure?" Sam asks one last time. You take a deep breath, "Yes." Colby's eyes are on you until Sam fully shuts the door, leaving you in the darkened silence, alone.

"Callum Hellriegel." You call out, "If you're here, can you go over and touch that little box that's on the floor for me?"

The red light flashes, indicating no on the EMF.

"Am I talking to someone else?" Your eyes scan around the room, taking slow deep breathes as you try to get used to the dark, no answer, "I should’ve stayed home." You joke quietly to yourself, "Is this where you wanted me?"

Instant green light.

You chew on your cheek as a chill washes over your body, "Fuck." You rest your hands on your head, "Did you kill all those women, Callum?"

Instant green light and the REM pod goes off.

"Did you kill them because they couldn't please you?" You rest your hand on your cheek and jump slightly when the EMF goes red.

"Did you kill them beca-" The EMF flashes red over and over again, "Stop!" You say loudly and it's soon followed by a loud bang on the window.

"Holy fuck." You sigh and place a hand on your chest, "Do you want us to bring the spirit box in so you can talk?"

Instant green light.

"Callum Hellreigel.. did you kill your self?" Your eyes move from the REM pod to the EMF, waiting for something, "Did someone else do it?"

Instant green light.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Okay, okay. Was it someone who worked for you?"

Instant red light.

"Was it one of the prostitutes?"

Instant green light.

"Is there anyone else here?"

Instant green light and you suddenly feel like you're being choked. You try to yell out as loud as you can, "C-Colby!" You feel the pressure on your neck vanish and you start coughing as soon as the boys bust through the door.

Colby is right next to you, "What? What? Y/n. Talk to me."

You're gasping for air still as you try to comprehend what just happened.

Sam brings the camera over, almost dropping it when he sees the finger marks on your neck.

"Holy fuck- Colby." Sam moves your hair to show the camera, "Oh my god. Are you okay? Oh fuck."

Colby's eyes are glued to your neck, "Can you breathe? Are you okay?"

"I-I.." you clear your throat, rubbing your hand over the prints, "I believe.. I was talking to Callum, and then I asked if anyone else was here and it went to yes and then i just suddenly felt like I was being choked."

"What the fuck, okay let's just get out of this room, I don't.." Sam sighs and shakes his head, "I don't like this."

As you're gathering the equipment and getting ready to walk out, you're pushed into Sam causing him to stumble a step forward, "That wasn't me." You say quickly as he turns around, "are you okay?"

Colby shuts the door with a slam and sighs, "This is fucking insane.. I can't believe this happened."

"Did you hear that?" You look down the steps, "Something just moved into the living room."

Sam points the camera, the light shining down and there's nothing there, "What the fuck, what the fuck?!"

"Shh. Shh." You shush Sam and look around, "I thought I heard whispering."

Colby lays a hand on your back, "Let's go outside, talk about what happened and then we can figure out what we wanna do."

Colby was just worried about getting you out without anymore damage.

You make your way outside, camera still rolling, bending down to the ground, "Oh my god."

"Okay. So y/n.. she got attacked basically and we're trying to figure out why. She's okay. She's okay.. it's just.. " Sam keeps the camera off of you until you stand back up, "Fuck."

"So." You walk over to them, using your hand to hide your neck from the camera, "As soon as you guys left, it was.. weird, it was fucking weird." You laugh slightly and shake your head, "I asked if it was him. Said no. Then I asked if it was someone else, no answer and then I asked if I was where they wanted me and that was an instant green light."

"What if.. what if it's not Callum?" Colby looks between you and Sam and Sam gasps, "One of the women?"

You hold your hand up, "Oh just wait. So then I asked if he killed all those women. Instant green light. I then asked if it was because they couldn't please him and it said no."

"Wait, y/n.. Did you tell stop at one point?" Sam asks and you nod, "The red light kept flashing over and over, so then I told it to stop and then it sounded like something hit the window. Hard. It was loud."

"Wait what?" Colby looks to Sam, "Did you hear anything?" Sam shakes his head, "I thought I heard her yell stop but it was much quieter than she says she yelled."

"Do you think.. wait.." Colby looks at you, "Izzie. That's what was whispered to you right?" You nod and he shrugs, "What if she killed him?"

"That's actually something that very well could have happened.. He favorited her maybe and she developed this jealously? Oh my god, the story just keeps unraveling." Sam points the camera back to you and you continue, "I asked if they wanted us to bring the sprit box in and it said yes. It also said yes to me asking if someone else killed him.." you look between them, "..and to if it was one of the prositutes."

"Yo, no. Are you fucking serious!?" Sam's mouth drops, "Is said yes to that?"

You nod, "Sure did."

"Izzie probably is intimidated by you." Colby says, "I think we have this all wrong." You run your hand over your head, "Mhm. But it was like not even a second after the light went green I felt this pressure around my neck and I couldn't move. I wasn't even sure if you guys heard me calling."

"I heard you scream Colby, a lot louder than when you yelled stop." Sam shakes his head, "If I would have known we would have came in.." he looks at Colby, "They said about the spirit box.."

Colby shakes his head and looks at you as Sam moves the camera onto you, "I think we should just take a break, give them time to settle, if they will." You suggest and Sam nods, "That's a good idea."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The whole time you guys took a break, Colby hasn't left your side as you guys discussed and agreed on what you were doing.

He found himself glancing at your neck every so often, wondering if him putting up more of a fight would have kept you safe.

"Colby.." you whisper, "Colbs." You finally get his attention, "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Not your fault. I chose to go in there." You lay a hand on his cheek, "Okay?"

He nods, not really convincing you but you go with it as Sam walks over, "Are you ready?" He looks at you and you nod, taking Colby's hand in yours, "Yeah. We're ready."

"Anything else happens and I'm throwing you over my shoulder and taking you out of there myself." He whispers low into your ear as sam walks towards the house.

You smile slightly, "Don't threaten me with a good time."

He keeps his arm around you until you reach the front door. He walks in but you stop, staring up the steps, "Sam. Don't move."

Colby looks between you, Sam and the steps, "What?" He whispers quietly and you point slightly, "There's a woman.." you raise your voice, "Izzie?"

The figure you see turns from the top of the steps and goes into Callum's room.

"We need to do the spirit box."

You make your way up to the room and Colby walks in first. Then you, then Sam. The REM pod gets put on the floor, and turned on. Sam backs away from it and you take a deep breath.

"We mean no harm to anyone that is here." You say and look around, "Izzie. If you were the one that choked me, can you touch that box on the floor over by the window?"

You close your eyes as soon as it lights up.

"Fucking shit dude." Sam says pointing the camera to you. You open your eyes and step towards the bed, "Did you get jealous of the other girls? Make that light up for me if you were."

You look over at Sam and Colby, who are whispering stuff to each other, and back to the pod as it lights up.

"one more time if you want us to turn on the spirit box." You run a hand through your hair and turn back to them as it lights up a few times in a row.

Colby takes the camera and Sam grabs the box, walking over and setting it on the window sill, "You will be able to talk to us using this box here."

Colby moves over closer to you and Sam and as soon as Sam flips it on, "Why did you choke y/n?"

".. doesn't... belong.."

"She doesn't belong here in general or doesn't belong to Callum?" Colby continues and you chew on your nail as you wait patiently.

".. not.. his..."

"Can you tell us who isn't his? Are you talking about Callum?" Sam interjects, "Y/n doesn't belong to Callum."

"..Mine.. my doing.."

"Are we talking to Izzie or Callum?" You rest your hand on your cheek, "Can you please tell me who we are talking to?"

".. Colby.."

"What the hell?" Colby groans and laughs slightly, "Can you tell me who I'm talking to?" He asks giving the camera to Sam, "I'm right here."

".. not.. yours.."

You look at Sam then go to Colby.

"..out.. out.. Izzie.."

"Did you kill Callum, Izzie?" Sam asks, "Was it you who shot him in front of the window?"

" .. y/n.. stay .."

You let out a quick scream as something grabs your arm, "No. I'm not staying. You cannot have me." The same bang on the window that happened while you were alone, happens again.

Colby aims the camera to the window, "fuck, what was th-"

".. keep her safe .."

"We are keeping her safe." Colby says as he pulls you in between him and Sam, "Do not touch her. Do not touch us."

You look around, "Shit." You jump, "Izzie. Leave."

" .. Sam .. "

"Okay no. No that's.. no.." Sam laughs nervously, "Do you want us to leave?"

" .. Colby ... and Sam .. "

"Alright we're done." Colby hands the camera back to Sam and turns off the box, "I don't think Callum is a demon. I think Izzie has some jealousy to figure out and she won't be doing that with you." He looks at you and you nod, "Fine."

"That was fucking insane, dude. What the actual fuck was that?" Sam shakes his head, unable to comprehend what just happened.

You hear another whisper as you turn towards the door, "did you hear that?" Sam and Colby stop talking and go quiet as they listen.

You turn towards them, "Please don't go is what I just heard.."

"We're going." Sam and Colby say in unison which makes you all kinda laugh, fear still in overdrive. You spin in a slow circle, "Whatever is in this room, this house, who ever you are, you cannot follow us out of this house. You cannot follow us home. You can not come with us."

As Sam bends down to pick up the REM, Colby lays his hand on your back but you wince and gasp, "What the fuck?"

"What?" Colby asks looking over you, "What happened?"

"Lift my shirt." You turn back around and Sam comes over with the camera, the light on top shining onto your back.

Colby slides your shirt up, "We're done. That's two fucking scratches l, Sam." He looks at Sam and you turn around, "Two?!"

As soon as you stand all the way up, you get dizzy and stumble back slightly into the wall. You suddenly feel like your emotions aren't yours anymore and you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

Flashes of a woman in a long dress and a man undressing her appear in your mind.

She's screaming. Crying. There's two more guys, but they're standing in the corners, watching it happen.

You feel like you're seeing someone else's vision until everything goes black and you start to regain the imagine of Colby and Sam standing in front of you.

"Y/n.. hey." You hear Colby say as he shakes you gently, "Y/n. Hey where'd you go?"

Your head snaps up to him, "What?" You look around, shaking your head, "I don't.. what just.."

"You weren't you." Sam says, "You went back into the wall and then you were in a stare, Colby tried for like two minutes to get you to look up."

"We.." your chest rises and falls quickly, "I'm so scared right now." A loud thump on the wall behind you rattles the room and you high tail it out of there.

Down the steps and out the door as Sam and Colby follow you.

"Y/n. Hey, hey wait." Colby yells, "Y/n." He walks up to you and takes you into his arms. You freak out for a second until you realize it's him and you let your body fall into his.

"Is she okay?" Sam asks running up, "What the fuck just happened?"

Colby shrugs, "I have no idea. But I see why they don't just let anyone in here."

He looks down at you, arms still tightly around you, "Hey. You're okay. I got you." You tilt your head up, slowly looking back at the building.

You let out a slight laugh, "Did I.. just.. did I just get possessed or something?"

They're both looking at you worried, "I saw a woman.. screaming as a man was taking off her dress and two other men in the corners were watching.. I don't.. was that.."

"We don't have an answer for that, but what I do know is that we're getting far from this place as possible." Colby lets you go as you stand up straight.

You look at Colby and point your finger at him, "Remember what I said to you last night, about us probably having been through worse?"

Colby nods as his hands move up and down your arm.

"Well, this is worse." You laugh anxiously, tears welling up into your eyes again, "What the fuck was that?"

"We're going home. It's okay." Colby wraps his arms around you, "Sam, can you drive home?" Sam yells out a quick 'yeah' as he packs the trunk back up.

"Come on. We're going home."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Thinking of maybe doing a part 2? Not sure yet, maybe like the aftermath of the Hellriegel Manor?

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

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soneblomsblog · 11 months ago

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okay so my request is;

monster cha hyun su (in season 2) x reader.

the reader helped hyun su escape when those people tried experimenting on him, hurt him etc and when the reader was in danger his monster side saved us

(i’m so down bad for him 😭)

Warning: mention of guns/gunshot wounds, season 2 spoilers

Monster Cha Hyun-soo x reader

In the eerie silence of the laboratory, the stench of chemicals hung heavy in the air as you, determined and courageous, guided Cha Hyun Soo through the maze of confinement. His eyes, grateful and haunted, and confused as too why you're helping him. At first he didn't believe you he was hesitant but when you grabbed his hand and pulled him along with you.

"I won't hurt you" you said these words to him looking him in the eyes. He couldn't help but feel a sort of connection with you his monster side pulling at the edge of his mind

The flickering lights overhead barely illuminated the desperation etched on his face, a silent plea for freedom. As you navigated the dim corridors, distant echoes of approaching footsteps heightened the tension. The oppressive atmosphere bore down on you both, but your shared determination fueled the escape.

Suddenly, the silence shattered, replaced by the sound of alarms as the experimenters discovered your daring breakout. Dr. Lim probably behind everything as he always had a eye on you.

Panic set in as you griping Hyun Soo hand tighter you both sprinted through the complex, evading capture at every turn. His monstrous strength, became a shield against the relentless pursuit. As you reached the exit, a hail of gunfire erupted, catching you off guard.

A searing pain ripped through you, and you stumbled, clutching your wounded side. Hyun Soo's was relieved when they finally made it outside. Smiling he turned towards you but the smile dropped as he saw you standing looking like you saw a ghos, holding your side where the sight of blood started to coat your hand.

His protective instincts kicked in the monster inside him coming to surface at the sight of you hurt.

With a shout, he shielded you from further harm, his strength overwhelming the attackers. As the chaos subsided, he knelt beside you, the monstrous facade fading to reveal the haunted gaze of a man who had experienced too much.

His gentle touch met the wound, a mix of worry and guilt in his eyes. In that moment, the bond formed in the crucible of escape became something deeper. You, the person he least expected a scientist no less helped him escape, now found solace in his protective embrace, a silent acknowledgment of never letting you get hurt clouded his mind making Hyun-soo tighten his grip on you.

#sweet home x reader #cha hyun soo #kdrama x reader #imagine #sweet home

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arminsumi · 1 year ago

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Seeing ex!Geto again after years

💗 すぐる

note : srry to make y'all cry 👍 this was written from a raw heart lol

summary : oh god, he still loves you. oh god. all of it comes back to him in the moment he sees you. you say his name and it feels like a gunshot wound to the chest.

warnings : angst, kinda hopeful ending, not proofread

playme : my love mine all mine

In the moment you turn to face the stranger, the world stops. Or at least the world between you and him. You always did "live in your own world" when you were dating, everyone pointed it out.

When Suguru sees you for the first time after not talking to you for... what, a year? He's so stricken. His eyes widen. His pupils dilate a bit. The color drains from his face. He doesn't know what he feels, but it's a snapping shattering breaking ruining feeling.

And when you, so shocked as you are, whisper his name with a chip in your voice "Suguru...?" It's like a gunshot wound to his heart. Bang. It kills him. And god it's only his name, isn't it crazy that the effect is so severe?

It has such a hold on him, you saying his name. He can't move; he's stationary, statue-like just like you in the middle of this cafe. He's paralyzed by your voice. The voice that used to sing him to sleep. The voice that used to talk philosophy with him at 2:32 AM on school nights. The voice that was the only thing that calmed him down during his darkest hours.

He stutters. No words come out of him or you, and yet so much is said. So much is said.

"Hey." he chokes out.

"Hey." you return.

Isn't it funny, he thinks when he gets home and slumps against the door after closing it.

How we used to speak until we ran out of breath, until we exhausted all topics possible. And then stared with pure love at each other in silence...

...and yet when you encountered each other in public by chance again, nothing but "hey"? He used to tell you that he was gonna spend his whole life with you. He used to call you baby. He used to cradle you in his arms. He used to love you vehemently. He used to kiss you until he gasped for air and laughed. He used to smile into those kisses. He used to swear he was yours, all yours. He etched your name into his skin, not figuratively; when you were teenagers you were fucking insane and giggled over the idea of etching your names into each other.

Sad. So sad. He feels his whole chest weighted, gravity pulls on his heart like it's pulling him into a grave.

While in bed, he stares at your phone number in his contacts. He blocks and unblocks. He types and deletes. He calls and ends calls. He nibbles his lip and sighs and gives up.

What would I even say...?

The image of a memory from September 21st 2019 flashes in his eyes. Your smiling face. Okinawa.

He snaps. And calls you. And it rings, rings rings rings rings rings —

"...hello? Whose number is this?" you ask, voice sending a shiver down his spine.

Fuck, that voice. That voice... is capable of murder. You kill me, baby. You kill me with your voice alone.

He makes a strangled noise. Tears roll off his cheeks. There's so many tears in fact. So many. Endless. It hurts him to shed every single one. And all his tears are for you.

"...Suguru, is that you?"

How could she know?

He chokes up and stutters, and says the quietest "hey" after clearing his throat.

It's 1:30 AM.

"You're still a night owl?"

There's tense silence............................................then you chuckle and it fucking breaks him. Devastates him. Tortures him so deliciously. Oh he missed that. Oh god he missed that. That laugh. That laugh is so beautiful to him. It's so brief and yet it nourishes his whole soul just to hear your laugh again. Oh god your laugh. Oh god... your voice.

Oh god, you.

"I am, yeah." you respond. "But you're awake too, aren't you?"

I want to hear her say my name again.

"I am..."

Please say my name again.

"You are."

Baby say my name. Say my name. Say my name.

There's silence. He knows, and you know, that the both of you are feeling flashbacks of memories crashing over the two of you like tidal waves. Memories of you and him.

Us.

"...did you ever think of me?" you ask.

"...I thought of you every day from the moment we parted."

You choke up. You laugh to cope with his revelation.

"How dramatic..." he can hear your voice grow hoarse, like you're in pain but trying to be funny. Because... it is funny, isn't it? This insanity we call reality?

"Sorry..."

"I've got to sleep... got work tomorrow."

"Me too."

"Okay..."

"Yeah."

"Hey?"

"Yeah?"

He holds his breath.

"Suguru."

His whole world... god, it's... he just... he...

"Y/n."

The two of you hang up.

A few minutes pass. Then the two of you call each other again. It's you calling him. His heart thumps hard. His chest is so tight.

"...hey."

And then... well, it's... it's just like the old days. But different. But still... that old feeling engulfs you and him during this phone call.

A phone call that starts at 1 AM and ends at 5 AM.

Dawn comes. When birds chirp.

And the two of you pass out while talking, the phone call still going. You wake up and see that he never ended the call after saying he would once you fell asleep.

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ruporas · 2 years ago

Photo

invisible scars (referenced previous talk here)

[ID: A colourless, digital Trigun comic of Vash and Wolfwood talking about Wolfwood's scars. They're both laying in bed and topless. Vash lays on top of Wolfwood, playing with the rosary around his neck. Then, Vash kisses a spot on Wolfwood's chest. Wolfwood asks, "What are you doing?" Vash smiles sadly, "You got shot here. In the last town we visited. You didn't even bother moving."

Vash props himself up over Wolfwood, who frowns slightly. Wolfwood is quiet for a moment before he says, "You remember that, huh?" Vash grabs Wolfwood's left wrist and brings it to his face. "And here." He kisses another spot there. "When you helped free the hostages from that robber..." Wolfwood dismissively says, looking away, "Was a lucky shot." Vash huffs, “Don’t brag. Jeez.”

Half of Wolfwood's expression is shown, eyes returning to Vash who is now sitting up, continuing to say, "And..." Vash goes on and kiss Wolfwood's right palm. "You got cut here, even though that girl was aiming at me." A moment from the past flashes, of Wolfwood grabbing a knife aimed at Vash, his hand bleeding.

At present, Vash moves down and puts another kiss on Wolfwood's right shoulder. "And here, from watching my back." Another memory flashes of Wolfwood and Vash back to back. Vash looks back as Wolfwood grins while holding Punisher, bleeding from multiple gunshots in his shoulder.

"And," Vash combs up Wolfwood's hair to reveal his forehead, "Here." A final memory shows Wolfwood with a regeneration vial in his mouth while getting shot on his temple. The next panel is framed in blood with Vash at the center, eyes wide and stunned in horror. The next panel is a closed up shot of Wolfwood's eye, locked on Vash's face.

Back to present, Vash’s head is bowed down as Wolfwood raises a hand to his nape and says, “Spikey.”

Wolfwood looks serious and frowns as he says, "We talked about this. Those were my decisions. They're not there anymore. Forget about them." Vash looks very sad before he smiles ruefully and says, "I still see them. All the time." He leans down so they touch foreheads. Wolfwood’s sorrowful expression can be seen as Vash says, "You protect so much. I could never forget what you've done to me. And many others..."

In the last image, they're drawn more cartoonishly. Wolfwood sweats and asks, "You don't actually remember every wound, right?" Vash points at a spot on his chest. "Kuroneko left a scratch here 7 times." Wolfwood, startled, says, "Why the hell are you keeping count—" End ID]

Credits for ID here and here

#vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun #trigun maximum #another scars comic for one of the vw week days!!!! frankly i think about their scars WAY too often . most notably wolfwood's because #it really symbolizes a lot for him imo bc for vash it's a history of all the people that's ever harmed him betrayed him and the trust he has #given to humanity despite it all. its a beautiful reflection of his character and then u look at ww and presumably #since we dont really see him half naked Ever (shame) and i mean. i guess technically its a hc -- i assume he wouldn't have any scars bc #of the regen potions (which is why he doesnt have his t scars btw the regen pot took them away :pensive:)#in a way its like washing his hands of blood. giving him the body of someone who might never been involved in a fight never held a gun #but he knows thats not true yet he cant really do anything about it anyway bc he's still just human. if he stops taking the regen pots #he can't press forward. so its just a rinse and repeat and growing accustomed to whats inflicted on him because he knows it'll go away at #the end of the day. he's human but he's also not he's far beyond what could be considered a normal human but he still just is.#mortal but also not immortal. idk. i overthink about it a lot GMSKGMDK frankly i dont think it matters THAT much in the context of trimax #but it means a lot to me somehow. also thinking about how no matter how many times ww kills he's never numb to the sensation of it. maybe #the adrenaline gets to him for the beginning half but ive been rereading like.. vol 3? and that entire fight for ww #u can slowly see him spiral as he keeps on going on. anyway anyway. i love ww #ruporas art

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itsgrimeytime · 7 months ago

Text

like father, like son || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!Reader

AVAILABLE ON AO3

request for @zomb-1-egutzz

Inspiration: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Taking care of Carl, was like instinct. Ever since you've met him, you've just cared for him like your own. You don't know why, you just slotted into his side. And you thought that was pretty simple. But, what you had never thought about, was what it would mean for Rick.

TWs: mention of Lori's death, mention of Hershel's death, mention of Beth's death, angst, crying, essentially a panic attack, pent-up emotions, cursing, blood, gunshot wounds, injuries, unrequited love (but not really), and all things TWD.

[[A/N: hey bestie <333, hope you like it. I write as a stress reliever but this one kinda hurt a little bit. And just fyi, Carl is alive and well, (canon is not real, so it will not hurt me). Also, Rick is down bad in this. Terribly down bad. Enjoy :))) ]]

You were a long-time family friend of the Greene's, and when you had nowhere else to go, you went to Hershel's farm. Even before the apocalypse, you helped when you could on the farm, and you knew all of them really well. A little like they were family.

But when it all started... everything went to shit for you pretty quickly.

And you... you had nowhere else to go.

With your family's blood on your hands and visions of unhinged jaws (that you didn't think you'd ever wash away), you ran as fast as you could. You just let your feet guide you and ended up on the Greene farm.

You still remember how hard they hugged you when you showed up, even with the blood (their blood) all over you. They held you then and kept you breathing for a long time. You don't know what you would've done without them.

But one day (after weeks of being helpless and grieving a loss you just couldn't get over, not really), you just pushed it all down with one motto: keep breathing.

You didn't get to enjoy life anymore, how could you? The world was ending, and all you needed to do was stay alive.

You didn't have to like it.

So you asked Hershel how to shoot a gun, and taught yourself how to use a knife. You knew Hershel didn't like it, the violence, but you wouldn't hear it. Because if your family had lost their lives, you sure as hell weren't losing yours.

The Greenes were worried about you, you could tell. Every day that went by where you didn't smile or laugh, and instead, practiced shooting bottles or killing a few walkers for the thrill of it, they stared at you just a little longer. With just a mix of worry and pity.

You didn't want to worry them, but you were just doing what you had to, to survive.

If you thought about your family... you'd probably run into the walkers. Tear the life out of your body yourself. How were you supposed to enjoy life when they got that privilege ripped away? It wasn't fair.

So, you avoided everything else and kept your focus on five things: breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food. That was it. You would even offer to go get things out of your own volition, and all your trips made you good at killing walkers. You did it effortlessly early on, and you're pretty sure the Greenes couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

But everything changed when a Dad showed up begging Hershel to save his kid.

That day had made your head spin, seeing a little boy have a gunshot wound. It made your eyes burn, and your head fill with what plagued your nightmares (unhinged jaws and bloody hands). You avoided the kid at all costs.

You hadn't initially known Rick, or even really wanted to (him, Lori, and Shane were definitely far too much for you to handle) but you were kind of the mediator. Hershel hated the violence that his group had, but he loved you. And Rick's group agreed with your 'violent' ways, so naturally, you sat right in the middle.

You didn't want it, perse, but you got used to it pretty quickly. You truly couldn't count on both hands how many times you had to step physically in between Hershel and Rick. So, somehow, someway, you'd earned his trust and respect.

That being said, you didn't really talk. Rick had a lot on his shoulders, with a pregnant wife, an injured son, and whatever the hell he and Shane had going on (you stayed the fuck away from that). And you weren't really a 'get to know me' kind of person at the time.

But, everything shifted when his kid got better.

You watched him kind of roam around the farm a lot. Rick and Lori had a lot going on, you understood that, and you know Rick tried but he still looked... lonely. And there was something heavy in you that knew he wasn't going to really have a childhood, that he lost something so precious.

There was nothing different that day, at all. You woke up, made sure your knife was safe in your pocket and went out. You did that often, even though Hershel and the girls hated it, just disappeared into nearby neighborhoods or whatever buildings you could get into (you were getting good at picking locks). That day you were looking for anything you could get your hands on, anything.

Endlessly walking through a culdesac, darting in between each house, trying to find anything of value. Food, water, something to help with shelter-

Instead, you found something else.

In the dead grass of one of these classy houses' front yard was one soccer ball. It was dirty, but not too bad for the apocalypse (you had seen far worse, and were probably worse yourself actually). With a thought, you picked it up in your hands, squeezing it, and it wasn't flat either.

You weren't sure why (or maybe you knew exactly why), but that's all you brought back to the farm.

Every day, when your brain would get to be too much, you'd throw it around in your hands or dribble it around the yard. At first, Maggie had looked at you oddly, but now, it seemed to relax her (and Beth and Hershel). It was healthier, or they, at the very least, thought so.

You could pretty much immediately feel his eyes on you though, a little longingly. Maybe that's why, when you'd never kicked it too far in the entire time you had it, you kicked it too far.

It rolled up and hit him in the back of the leg.

He turned to look at you, blue eyes sparkling a little, and then down at the ball.

On instinct, you spoke, "Shit."

The kid looked directly at you then.

"Don't say that, kid," you mended, quickly -maybe even a little awkwardly.

"Carl," he spoke then.

You questioned, "What?"

"My name's Carl," he explained with quite the intention in his voice, "-not kid."

You laughed a little, maybe for the first time in a while. You could nearly hear Maggie's gaze snap to you at the sound. She was always the most worried.

"Well, Carl," you hummed, playfully, "-you gonna pass me my ball back?"

He pressed his lips together in a thin line like he was thinking -the hat on his head wobbled a little. It was endearing.

"Only if you let me play too," he negotiated, a big grin on his face and something in you softened (for the first time in a long time).

You tilted your head, hand on your hip, "You drive a hard bargain, sir."

Carl laughed, and you felt your smile grow bigger. Now, you felt more eyes on you, Rick and Lori. Or at least Rick.

Apparently, you were making quite the spectacle.

"Alright, Carl," you finally replied, "-you've got a deal."

That was when it all started when Carl changed your life. Every day that you could, you'd play a game of soccer with him, eventually it developed more into a chatty sort of game. He told you a lot, and you told him about the things you used to do as a kid.

It felt like you had a hand in helping him keep his innocence. It was nice.

You remember the eyes sort of fading off of you, well. Except for one.

Rick was always watching. You couldn't understand if it was a Carl thing, or a worrying thing, or what exactly. But, you did notice it.

And eventually, Carl convinced him to join too.

"C'mon, Dad," he pleaded, "-just one game."

"Carl, I gotta-"

"Please," he turned on the puppy dog eyes, you laughed a little at how he softened immediately. His eyes shot to yours a second at the noise, you didn't think much of it.

"How are we supposed to play wit' just three of us?" He relented, just a smidge, "-Don't we need equal teams?"

Carl frowned.

Your mouth was open before you could even stop it, "Oh, please, I'm good enough to take the two of you on my own."

Rick's lips quirked into a smile, you had the thought that he was handsome before shoving it far away, "Are ya?"

"I am," you reiterated, just doing what felt natural, "-you too scared to try, Grimes?"

Carl laughed at that, almost giddy, it made something in your chest warm. Mission accomplished.

And with a breath, Rick readied himself -blue eyes solid on yours, "'S see whatcha got, Y/N."

That wouldn't be the last time the three of you would play soccer together, but it would be the first time you really got to know Rick. It remained that way, where you just played with Rick and Carl on days they could or days you could.

You'd found a connection, and it was nice.

But then, you were kind of a friend to Carl. You truly cared about him, yeah, you weren't on the level of a parent for him. Not at all. That just wasn't your dynamic, you didn't want to step on any toes.

Lori's or Rick's.

Before you could stop it, the fateful day arrived.

You were strung between a delicate mix of concern and disbelief. The overthrow of the farm was big, and maybe so was finding the prison, but this... this day was much worse.

You'd known Lori a little bit better then, she talked to you a little (because you were always around Carl). And she seemed nice, really, just in a fucked up situation that she could hardly handle herself. Nevertheless, to handle it for Carl. Plus, the whole Shane situation... He was dead now, and that really couldn't be easy on her conscience. (You kind of gathered the situation a little bit, when you were getting to know Rick. He hadn't said anything, but you understood enough.)

And when she went into labor, you hated that you weren't hopeful. Hated it.

Carl went with Maggie to help deliver, and your heart twisted in your chest (so insanely worried) but you needed to help the others.

When Maggie came out of the room, with just Carl and the baby -blood all over her hands, your heart sunk to the bottom of your chest. Lower, if it could. There was this little spark of hope that Carl was okay, but then you looked at him, really looked at him.

Rick was crying, and belligerent, and he did the very same. Just looked at his son, "No, no, no-"

God, he... he didn't-

You don't think you could ever forget the next moment.

A sob was racking up your throat, heavy and so suffocating as you watched Rick just lose it and Carl stayed steady in place, only looking at the ground. And you felt like you were going to throw up.

Stomach twisting, as your eyes got cloudy.

You hadn't even noticed it, maybe because your mind was reeling, but then you heard the slap of footsteps and then a body running into yours. Carl, Carl-

Hands shaking, your hands wrapped around him, holding him tightly -swallowing back what you could. Your body moved on its own.

You crouched down, you couldn't stop the tears then, eyes skimming over his face. He was just looking at you, blue eyes filling with tears, and before you knew it you were cupping his face and wiping all of them away.

"Oh, baby, baby-" you were whispering, just for him to hear, "-I'm so sorry."

And then, you pulled him into another hug. That time you didn't let go, you would hold him until he did. Tears wetting your shoulder you only squeezed him tighter -kissing him on the forehead when it felt like your soul was crushed into pieces.

That was where it started.

You still went on trips, but you stayed around a lot more. Because, as you were caring for Carl, you also started caring for Rick. They went hand-in-hand. That was much more important than anything else.

It started with going on trips, and getting Carl books and candy when you could. It grew from there though, you started siphoning off some of your food to give him extra. When he would get hurt, even small little cuts, you were immediately there -patching him up. Making sure he was completely fine.

And Rick... well, he was more complicated. It was dragging him away from the farm when he seemed so tired he could barely stand, it was getting him out of bed when he didn't want to even breathe, it was making sure he was eating, and it was sometimes guiding him back to reality when he saw Lori.

He started getting better eventually, and you did convince him to go see the baby. He'd been avoiding her as much as physically possible; you told him he should.

"She's a piece of Lori that you'll always have, Rick. Her and Carl."

He'd look at you a certain type of way you couldn't label then, but eventually agreed. So, you thought it was going well. As he became more conscious again though, similar to his previous self (sometimes you thought maybe even better), he started noticing.

Rick saw all that Carl had gathered, the finger pointed back to you. He was eating candy, the finger pointed back to you. Carl fell and scraped his knees, you were near immediately by his side while Rick watched (the finger pointed back to you).

And when you ate, you'd done how you always did, almost on instinct. Siphoning off some of your food and piling it onto Carl's plate.

You're not sure when Rick caught that, at all, really. But you knew he did.

Because, eventually, he started sitting beside you, and as quick as you'd siphon off to Carl, he'd siphon some of his off to you.

The first time he'd done it, you froze -staring at your plate.

"Rick, you don't-"

He didn't even flinch, blue eyes taking you in -grateful, "I do."

"Well," you reasoned, "-don't do it every day. You need to eat too."

"Don't ya give some to Carl every day?"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts," he promptly finished, smiling at you in a new type of way, continuing his conversation with Daryl.

He'd done similar things, and eventually, your care spanned over to Judith. It wasn't as pressing as Carl, as Beth usually had her dealt with, but you'd been the one to feed her a few times (sat right beside Carl). And you won't lie you did do the baby voice a few times.

You didn't know it then, but Rick was looking at you in a new type of way.

And then, things happened in rapid succession.

The Governor did what he did, and Hershel died right in front of your eyes. You grabbed Maggie that day so tight, holding her as you both fell to the ground. It felt just like when your family... Your heart was thrown out of your chest and stomped into the dirt.

The fall of the prison didn't give you much time to grieve. You'd escaped with Carl and Rick, Judith had disappeared and you hoped with everything in your chest that she was still alive. God, you had never felt so low in your life.

Those days weren't good, and you had holed yourself up -lock and key. The only person who could through to you was Carl, despite how much Rick tried.

Breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food, but just for a bigger audience now.

The Claimers only proved you right. Seeing Carl like that, the threats of what they were going to do to him? You would've snapped if Rick hadn't.

"He's mine."

That day, you felt yourself come back again.

You held Carl tight against your chest, rubbing his hair over and over. Just before that, you scanned his whole body carefully -looking everywhere for anything at all. You would've killed them again if you could have if there was.

Holding him, you recenter yourself -calming the shake of your hands and the beating of your heart. You whispered, "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay-"

Carl had stopped you then, leveling his blue eyes on you, "I'm okay."

You smiled, maybe a little teary, reiterating, "You're okay."

And then, you saw Rick.

That was the thing about you, you were hardwired to care for them both at this point (for maybe more reasons than one, but you wouldn't admit that out loud). Making sure Carl was entirely fine, you kissed his forehead and spoke.

"Imma go help your Dad, okay?"

Hunting down a rag and a little bit of extra water, you slowly made your way over to him. He still had his eyes closed, and his hands were shaking; you simply sat right in front of him -wordlessly. You hardly even breathed, not wanting to startle him at all, but somehow still wanting to to bring him back.

You waited, patiently, for his eyes to open again, and when they did, you smiled a little.

"Hey, Grimes," you whispered, brandishing the rag, "-Thought you might need a little help, that okay?"

He looked at you in the same type of way he always did, one that you still couldn't label.

Before speaking lowly and a little slurred in his accent, "Yeah, 'at's okay."

You took a careful breath and leaned forward -gently scrubbing the blood off of his skin. Moving slowly, his eyes fluttered shut, and something in your chest tightened. He trusted you so much.

Your heart lept into your throat at the thought, and you took the moment to just look at Rick. How he differed from the first time you saw him, the time in his face. Longer hair that curled, the stubble that climbed up his cheeks, he was so different, but still somehow the same. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

That wasn't new, but it felt like it was.

With a breath, you continued wiping away what you could -pushing all around his face, smoothing over his lips, and dabbing a little on his facial hair. You moved slowly, not wanting to irritate his skin, but it made it take a little longer. As you did so, your fingertips brushed along his skin -just a little. It made your head spin.

You leaned back, satisfied, before grabbing his hands -left one first. You looked at them a moment, eyeing the callouses and the rough skin along his palm. His life was riddled on them, practically written there.

You cleared your throat, blinking back into focus.

Scrubbing away on the back and then flipping it to the front, you repeated the process.

He was looking at you now, blue eyes intently focused. You felt his steady gaze as you curled your hands around his, and for a moment it felt like you couldn't breathe.

Your heart beating heavily in your chest, you tried to stay focused.

When his skin was a sort of pink instead of blood red, you let go of his hands. Decidedly, you patted his cheek with a smile (the buzz of his skin against yours made your head spin).

"All better," you chimed, playfully.

He laughed a little then, and you felt something in you stir. Long ago dormant. Handsome, your mind spoke.

It was suddenly very hard to ignore it now, though. This close to his face, and he kind of looked like he-

With a breath, snapping your eyes from his and clearing your throat. "I'll um, go see if Carl needs me."

He just smiled at you in a certain type of way.

The two of you never talked about it again, but you did find him looking at you more.

And then Terminus.

To think about it now, made your skin crawl and bile rise up your throat. Beth died right in front of you, shot right through the head. She wasn't... There was no way-

You felt part of yourself crumble that you didn't think you could get back. God, she was so young-

You had new nightmares; they made your stomach twist and your sleep come to a relative halt. It wasn't just your family now (although it kind of was), it was Beth and Hershel. They had both been so sudden, your mind was still reeling. The gunshot bouncing through your ears, even now, as you lay on a blanket -Carl just beside you.

Your eyes snapped to him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Alive, it thrummed along your mind, alive.

You watched it for a few moments, letting your mind settle on that fact. Carl is safe, Carl is fine. Something in your shoulders relaxed, and your breaths weren't as heavy in your lungs.

Alive, alive, alive, alive.

Your stomach twisted because you didn't know if Judith was.

Instinctively, you shot up in your spot, breaths hollowed out in your chest. You blinked a few times, bringing yourself back to the ground beneath your fingers. Chancing a look at Carl again, you found him still fast asleep.

You exhaled a long breath, you weren't going to sleep tonight. Every time you closed your eyes, you'd either see... them or Carl could be hurt, there was no good reason to sleep.

Shaking your hands, you stood up. You stood there a moment, taking in the night -the buzz of the bugs, the shine of the stars, and the (luckily) very distant groans of the walkers.

"Ya okay?"

You startled in place, shit. Rick was on watch duty, you forgot. You tried to volunteer, but he'd refused ("'Aven't seen you sleep a second."). You weren't sure how to feel about how attentively he seemed to watch you.

You bit at your lips a second, swallowing, and wiping your hands down your legs. Your eyes were fogging up, and your throat was clogged. You felt a little like you couldn't breathe-

"Y/N?"

You blinked, deliriously, and your eyes were watery now, and it felt somehow like your lungs were filled. A bit like every breath got stuck in your throat.

"Hey, hey, look at me, sweetheart."

And then, Rick was suddenly in front of you. You hadn't even heard him move, the pounding of your heart was so loud-

With the gentlest of movements, he held your jaw, bringing your eyes to his.

"Hey," he spoke gently, concern flitting through his eyes, "-hey. 'At's goin' on?"

You swallowed, something clawing up your throat (but your heart was softer in your head now), your eyes falling to his jacket, "I just-"

"C'mon, talk to me," he hummed, bringing his eyes to yours again -something heavy in his eyes, worry.

"I just," and you felt your voice catch in your throat, you felt the tears slip out of your eyes, "-I just... I just miss them, and... and every time I close my eyes, Rick, it's just-"

His thumbs rubbed away your tears, gently moving back and forth, "I know, baby, I know. I miss 'em too."

Something in your mind noted that 'baby' was new, but you weren't focused on that. Your mind was running at 100 miles an hour, and all you could see clearly was Rick.

Your body acted on instinct, as you threw yourself into him -digging your face into his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his neck. He seemed slow to react for a moment, but carefully, his hands came to wrap around your waist.

You took a deep breath in, just smelling the woodsy smell he always seemed to carry around with him. It made the tension in your body melt, and he seemed to notice it -tightening his grip slightly.

"I gotcha," he whispered, maybe like he was a little scared to break the moment, "-'s gonna be okay, I promise."

You fell asleep on his shoulder later that night, one of his arms tight along your side. And if he shushed everyone that morning afterward (wanting to keep you close as long as possible maybe), kissing your temple whenever you stirred, looking at you a little like you were the most precious thing in the world, you'd never know.

It was easier after that. Any time you felt it all coming back up, Rick would be right there, hand smoothed along your shoulder, pushing you into his side, or brushing his hand along yours while you walked. You weren't sure if you could get used to it all.

And then, a good day came.

Judith, baby Judith was back.

You felt the sob wrack up through your throat, as you smoothed your hand over her little hair. Your breaths were shaky but you were smiling, and so were both Rick and Carl. All of you were huddled together, crying, and for a split second, it felt like maybe you were a little family.

You bit back the thought but peeked up at Rick just to find him looking right back at you. Something in your chest fluttered.

Finding Alexandria was a little like a fever dream, all of you weren't trusting it, especially since Terminus. But eventually, something in you relaxed as you watched Carl know people his age and find friends. You weren't as scared anymore.

That being said, you had your own home, but it stayed empty. You were constantly in the Grimes' house. Whether for Carl, Judith, or Rick, you were always there. And Rick didn't seem to mind at all. (Sometimes you thought he preferred it.)

That day was a normal one, you'd crossed on over to the Grimes' -bouncing a little on your toes. It was your day to watch Judith, well, it always kind of ended up being a team effort at the end. But, if Rick had something to do, you'd be on baby duty.

Walking in like you always did, the house was eerily quiet.

You pursed your lips, "Rick?"

He called out, from the kitchen you'd guessed (you could hear the sizzle of a pan), "In 'ere!"

You moved with a practiced grace, smoothing around the piles of toys like you lived here (and in essence, you kind of did). Just as you entered the doorway, you started again.

"Hey, where are our kids?"

And then you stepped into the room and got a look at Rick. Clean-shaven Rick. Sharp jawline, blue eyes, Rick.

Your mind went completely blank.

He turned to you then, sort of smiling, "Our?"

Blinking, you cleared your throat, "Sorry, what?"

"You said," he was stepping closer, something shining in his eyes, "-our kids."

It was hard to focus, but you'd gathered what he said.

"Shit, sorry," you started, scrambling a little, "-I didn't mean to-"

"No, no," he dismissed, eyes intently focused on yours (somehow you think his facial hair distracted from his eyes, were they always that blue?), "-you're right, darlin'. 'Ey are as much yours as 'ey are mine."

You took a deep breath in, deflecting a little and motioning to his face, "When did you...?"

"This mornin'," he answered, turning back to the pan (breakfast, you guessed), "-why? It look 'at bad?"

Your head was spinning, but you answered anyway.

"What, no," you answered, instinctively, "-it looks good. Great, actually."

He smiled at you in a sort of way you couldn't read, wearing his pajamas and hair slightly tussled -your mouth went dry.

"Yeah?"

You willed everything in yourself to say something witty, playful, like normal. But he was still looking at you, focused, and all your brain could think was blue-

"Yeah," you answered quietly.

He hummed a moment, hand coming up to rub at his jaw. Calloused fingers against the most certainly smooth skin, you briefly thought about touching it yourself.

You cleared your throat, "Sorry, so where are th- our kids?"

Rick's eyes smoothed over your face a second before he smiled, shaking his head, and dropped his eyes back to the pan, "Judith's still sleepin', and Carl is at a friend's."

"Which friend?" you asked, instinctively.

"He's fine, baby," he laughed a little like he was testing the word, "-ere's no need to be worried."

Baby rattled around your head for a few seconds, especially coming from that face. The last time he called you that, you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. And come to think of it, with how you were reacting to a shaved face, maybe he was onto something.

"Grimes," you leveled, but there wasn't any bite.

"I'm serious," he added, looking at you (blue, blue) -trying to convey it to you.

You pursed your lips, deadpanning, "You forgot, didn't you?"

"Maybe," he smiled at you, almost fondly, and your knees nearly buckled.

God, you needed to get a hold of yourself.

"I'll figure it out later," you remarked -passively, "-What are you making?"

He seemed to pause, eyes skimming along you like he was suddenly taking you in, before stepping to the side, "Come n' see for yourself."

You had the spare thought that he was doing it on purpose, before swatting it away and gathering by his side. Mindlessly, your brain noted his elbow bumping into you and the swarm of body heat that radiated off of him. You blinked it away.

He had a few things going, typical breakfast stuff, but you did decisively notice what looked to be a single portion of your favorite.

"Is that-"

"For ya? Yeah," he answered, unflinchingly, "-'Figured I could be sweet today."

You quipped back, looking up at him, "What a change of pace, Grimes."

He laughed at that, your eyes smoothed over his smile before dropping back to the food. Your breaths felt a little hollow in your chest for an entirely different reason.

You stood there and helped portion of the food, focused on placing plates out for him to then fill. You could feel his eyes steady on you as you did so, just until he started portioning. You promptly grabbed one of the other foods and portioned it yourself.

As soon as you finished, Rick spoke up.

"Did ya mean it?"

You looked at him, curiously, "What?"

"Our kids," he answered, something flickering behind his eyes, "-Do ya really think of 'em as your own?"

"As long as I'm not... overstepping," you clarified, dropping the pan into the sink, "-yeah, of course, I do."

He smiled a little, the flicker stronger now, "Really?"

"Well, yeah," you laughed, a little uncertain now, "-Should I not?"

"No," he echoed out, something heavy in his tone, "-you should. 'Ey're yours."

"Then, why-"

""S just nice to 'ear," he explained, pulling another one of the pans into the sink -sliding in just beside you.

"Why?" you questioned.

Rick looked at you, eyes flickering along your face, seeming to decide on something, "Can I show ya somethin'?"

You quirked a brow, playfully, "What is this something?"

"A gift," he answered, naturally.

You blinked, a little deliriously, "For me?"

"Yeah," he hummed, taking your wrist in his hand (your brain turned to mush) and guiding you through the house, "-'Course it is."

"Where did you get a gift?"

"On a run," he answered, easily, pulling you into his bedroom before letting go. He wandered over to his closet.

"Why-" you laughed a little, "-Why were you thinking of me on a run?"

Rick didn't hesitate a second, hands skimming over some shelves, "I'm always thinkin' of ya."

Your lips snapped shut, as your eyes just followed him around the room.

Since he was so preoccupied, you let your eyes roam over his jaw, the angular lines of his nose, the curve of his Adam's apple, the slight push of his lips, and the curl that seemed to trail down his forehead. You almost adjusted it yourself, but you fought back the urge.

"'Ere it is," he sighed, relieved, before seeming to gather something up in his arms.

You tried to peek over his shoulder, but he decidedly kept them too raised.

"Ya ready?" He chimed, excitingly.

You quipped, smiling, "I was born ready, Grimes."

Rick laughed at that, and you bit back the grin that threatened to slip across your face. There was something so domestic about all of this, it made your breath rattle in your chest, and your heart skip a beat.

And then, he turned around.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He held in his hands, a brand-new soccer ball, still in the package. Your brain buzzed for a moment, it was so sentimental. It made your head spin, making you a little breathless. A grin grew wide along your face, lips curling up.

"No way," you muttered, leaning forward and skimming your fingers across it, "-that is so sappy, Grimes."

He laughed a little, and your eyes flicked to him where a pink dusted up to the top of his ears. Your smile shone even brighter.

"Figured you could let me and Carl try to gain a little on your record," he smiled.

"What was it again?" you grinned, taking the ball into your hands, "-Four to zero?"

"Six," he corrected, instinctively (like he remembered), "-Six to zero."

Wordlessly, you gently took the box into your hands, his eyes steady on you.

"How long did it take to find this?"

"I was lookin' for the past few runs," he answered -vaguely.

"Looking?" You questioned, "-You plan this out, Rick?"

He hummed, smiling, "Maybe."

You quirked a brow, not quite looking at him, "What's the occasion, Grimes?"

He fell quiet then, and you promptly dropped your smile and looked at him. Eyes skimming along his face, he didn't seem upset. He seemed entirely the opposite, actually.

Blue eyes looking at you like they always did.

"Rick?" You asked, concern smoothing through you, "-Everything alright?"

He smiled a little, shaking his head a little, "God, you're... you're... you're unbelievable."

"Um," you flustered a little, holding the ball tighter to you, "-is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Good," he answered, with probably the biggest grin, "-great, it's a great thin'."

"Yeah? Well," you muttered out, a little frazzled, "-um, thank you."

He laughed a little bit, then but it slowly dissipated into the air. Leaving you and him, and his crazy blue eyes (seriously, how have you never noticed that?).

Rick spoke breathlessly then, rushed as if it was just waiting to come out (like it was building, building, building, until it burst), "I love you."

You dropped the ball (and box) right onto your feet. It stung a little.

"Shit," you hissed, before scrambling, "-Wait, that wasn't to you. I... I just I hit my toes with the box, and it hurt-"

He smiled at you even brighter then, eyes dropping to your feet, "Ya alright?"

"Yeah, what," you cleared your throat, "-I'm fine. I'm just... a little in shock, I guess."

"Yeah?" He asked, something lilting in his tone and you almost felt like he got closer to you.

"Yeah," you breathed out, "-I just... I never could've imagined a man like you, um, loving me."

He was definitely getting closer, blue eyes flickering between the two of yours, "A man like me?"

"It's a good thing," you explained, "-You're just caring, and I love your kids, and-"

His face was breath away from yours. Your lips moved before you could think about it.

"-handsome," you finished a little breathlessly.

He grinned then, crinkling at his eyes, and something there, deep in the blue. You couldn't tell if it was mischievous or loving or maybe even teasing-

"Am I?"

Something in you snapped.

You practically jumped forward, arms wrapping around his neck, and lips pressing to his. Rick laughed into it (which made you laugh a little too), but his hands sank to your waist entirely on instinct.

It was a little desperate, as Rick tilted his head just the right way and seemed to pour everything into his lips. Which were very much already good on their own. It made you dizzy, and you nearly stumbled in your steps, but he held you a little tighter and kept you in place.

Before, pulling you forward even more.

It sent a shock through your spine and made the breath slink out of your lungs.

Speaking of breath-

You pulled back, taking a deep breath in -mind a little hazy, "Jesus Christ."

Rick laughed, but still pressed forward, leaving little kisses on your lips -surface level. Again, and again, and again, and again-

Laughing, you moved your hands to his face, pulling him back, "Rick, you need to breathe, yeah?"

"Not as bad as I need ya," he retorted, before pressing kisses along your jaw.

It made your head spin, and maybe you were a little dizzy but you didn't think it was from the lack of oxygen.

"Rick," you urged, laughing.

He mindlessly moved down to your neck, a little like he couldn't get enough. It zapped through your spine again.

"Rick," you repeated, maybe with a little less laughter, "-c'mon, I have to tell you something."

He groaned, before pulling back to face you, blue eyes focused. Rick looked at your smile, and bit down his own.

You took a breath in, and cradled his face again (his skin was soft), "I love you too."

He grinned big and wide then, something shining in his eyes, "Ya don't know how long I 'ave waited to 'ear 'at."

"How long?"

He answered, with ease, "Since I saw ya givin' Carl your food."

"Rick," you almost soothed, "-that was forever ago. Why didn't you say something?"

"Was never the right time," he hummed, kissing you at the hinge of your jaw, "-I was goin' through somethin' and then ya were."

You hummed a moment, finally pushing back the loose curl.

"And I just-" he exhaled a breath, "-I wanted to make sure ya felt the same. Didn't want the kids to lose ya."

"Even if I didn't love you, Grimes," you soothed, trailing your hands along his jaw, "-They would've never lost me."

He just looked at you then, a little like he couldn't believe you were in front of him. Couldn't believe you were real.

"They're our kids," you offered with a teasing smile, "-are they not?"

"Yeah, 'ey are."

And without another breath, he kissed you so hard that it felt like your breath was knocked out of your lungs. But there was no way in hell that you were stopping.

You'd waited long enough for this.

He grinned against your lips, mindlessly kicking the soccer ball out of the way to get closer to you. Whispers of 'Ours' between every press of lips like he couldn't believe it. Or maybe like it was all he'd ever wanted.

And apparently, he had waited just as long.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot #protective!rick

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itsallgoodmann · 3 months ago

Text

I'm going to act like I did not sob throughout the entirety of writing this story holy shit.

"Charles Knew that Love Existed Because Arthur was Love"

Desc: Arthur tells Charles about his condition and they both slowly realize they care a lot more about each other than they originally thought. Apparently loss can really strengthen emotions, especially unresolved ones.

(Heavily implied Charthur, comfort, angst, death, grief, mutual confession of love...You get the idea. Inspired by the fanart above (not mine obvs!))

"Hey Charles," Arthur sat down on the crate next to Charles, overlooking the main campfire. Charles gently rubbed gun oil on his sawed-off shotgun, thinking quietly to himself, like he always did.

"Arthur." Charles nodded at Arthur, glancing at him quickly before looking back at his gun. Arthur put his hands in his lap, clasped together tightly. He closed his eyes briefly, trying his best to gather his thoughts. He had known Charles for less than a year, but somehow Arthur felt more connected to him than Dutch.

Arthur didn't want to tell him. In fact, Arthur couldn't think of a thing he wanted to do less than tell Charles the truth...

Because he was dying. Famous gunslinger Arthur Morgan, taken by a goddamn lung disease. How ironic. Charles deserved to know, he had been so kind to Arthur. Arthur remembered the weeks after the O'Driscolls had kidnapped and shot him, and who stayed by his wagon the longest.

Not Dutch, not John, not even Hosea.

Charles.

"You shouldn't get up," Charles said bluntly, staring into Arthur's blue eyes, glazed over in a Morphine-filled daze. Arthur shook his head like he did every time someone told him not to do something. It didn't stop him from hoisting himself up so his head rested on the back of the wagon. Charles just shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"Swanson's Morphine is certainly doing its job," Charles muttered, mostly to himself, Arthur scoffed in return.

"Why you here anyways?" Arthur took a deep breath and tried not to wince at the stitches from the gunshot wound in his abdomen. Charles chuckled, a lighthearted noise that made Arthur smile...Even if it was mostly because of the Morphine.

"Just, watching... Got nothing better to do." Charles shrugged his shoulders and continued sharpening his knife next to Arthur's wagon.

"I think in the time you've been with us-" Arthur took a moment to think about what he was going to say, his words slightly slurred from the drugs.

"I've never heard you speak more than two sentences to anyone." Arthur shook his head, smiling. Charles rolled his eyes.

"I just don't have much to say, I guess." Charles shook his head, but couldn't help the smile that graced his face.

"Charles...Smith... The lone wolf... A man of few words." Arthur put his hands up and made a gesture like he was reading a newspaper headline.

"If I knew you were going to act like an idiot I wouldn't have given you the Morphine." Charles shot back, but he didn't take any offense. How could someone take offense to the ramblings of a Morphine drunk Arthur? Arthur acted like he had been shot (very fitting), giving Charles an exasperated look.

"The lone wolf does speak!" He said dramatically, drawling out the 'does' to annoy Charles even more.

"You should sleep Arthur," Charles finally said, putting away the knife and other sharpening materials.

"Y'know..." Arthur yawned, the euphoric sensation of the Morphine and the drowsiness that healing cost was really getting to him.

"I'm quite fond of you, Mr.Serious." Arthur slurred, moving his head down to the pillow and looking up. Charles studied Arthur's expression, trying to read his true emotions. Arthur's eyebrows were relaxed, his lips upturned in a lazy smile. He could see the crow's feet that appeared next to his eyes, and the scar that was on the bottom of his chin. Charles meant to ask about it, but never did.

"You've always been the hardest worker in camp," Arthur yawned again, and Charles shushed him.

"Go to sleep Arthur, for god's sake."

"Somethin' on your mind?" Charles' deep voice brought Arthur out of his thoughts, and Arthur nodded. Charles looked at him, narrowing his eyes a little bit. Charles must have had an inkling of what Arthur wanted to speak about. He was quiet, but he wasn't stupid. At this point, no one could deny Arthur looked sick...Real sick. His collarbones were sticking out from his pale splotchy skin, his clothes were now bagged around him. His eyes were bloodshot, and when he ate there was a large coughing fit that followed.

The cough. It made Charles' ears ring, the violent shake of his chest, the crackled wheezes that followed. Charles saw the bloodstains on the inside of Arthur's sleeve.

"You wanna ride with me?" Arthur blurted out, Charles took a second but nodded.

"Always." He said curtly. Charles walked with Arthur over to his horse, before he mounted Taima. Arthur led the way to the outskirts of Annesburg, before riding aimlessly towards the mountains surrounding the Wapiti Indian Reservation.

"Yer a smart man Charles," Arthur started, taking in short breaths, thinking hard about how to word things. This did nothing but make Charles nervous.

"Arthur," Charles said in almost a warning, like he was afraid Arthur was going to beat around the bush and never get to the point. Charles didn't like it when people weren't straightforward. However, Arthur was the only exception to this rule. The only noises that accompanied them through the ride were the clopping of hooves on rock, and the rushing of water from the nearby Dakota River.

"If things go bad, you get yourself out of there, alright?" Arthur coughed but tried to stifle it, which only made it worse.

Charles wanted to get off his horse and punch Arthur in the face. Not because he was angry at Arthur...

But because he was scared. Charles Smith, the fearless lone wolf. It wasn't like Charles hadn't experienced loss before, hell, in the last few months it was constant... Davey, Sean, Kieran, Hosea, Lenny, Molly... Charles was sad, of course, but life went on. The sun still shone the next day, the coffee was still brewed like normal, and the songbirds still chirped their melodies.

"You got... More to lose." Arthur said, his voice softer, more vulnerable. Charles shook his head, immediately shooting back,

"No. Come on. Don't start talking like that." It was obvious though, even when Arthur explained it.

"I didn't tell you before," Arthur took in a wheezing breath.

"I saw a doctor."

Charles wanted to jump into the Dakota River and feel his entire body go numb from the cold. He wanted to push his hands to his ears and hum until he couldn't hear Arthur's words anymore because they cut like a knife. They made him bleed like no one had ever done before. Instead, Charles gripped the reins of Taima tighter, slowing down to a gentle trot.

"It's pretty bad, and it's gonna get worse."

Charles shook his head, but luckily Arthur didn't notice. He bit his lip and tried to make sense of it all.

"Take a left down this trail," Charles said softly, pointing to the slightly worn trail into the thick woods of the Cumberland forest. Charles led Arthur to a clearing, where a thick, lush layer of grass grew, and flowers erupted from the space.

"I don't remember much of my childhood," Charles said, dismounting his horse and motioning for Arthur to do the same. Arthur followed Charles into the clearing and they both sat down on a fallen log, covered in bright green moss.

"My mama though, she taught me all about the herbs..." Charles smiled gently, then motioned to the flowers. Arthur looked at him, confused.

"These are flowers..." Arthur corrected, Charles just shook his head and chuckled.

"She taught me about the flowers too, if you'd let me finish." Charles pointed to the flower with stems that held a few dozen tiny bundles of red flowers, with a bright yellow center.

"Blood flower," Charles said, Arthur nodded, listening intently. Charles then pointed at the other flower that covered the clearing, a stem that held a single, cupped, red flower.

"Field Poppy," Charles informed, Arthur could have probably guessed that, but just hearing Charles talk was enough. There were a few minutes of comfortable silence, the horses quietly grazing near them.

"Did the doctor say how long?" Charles was careful with his words, but he wanted...No, needed to know.

"A couple weeks, a couple months..." Arthur drawled, coughing again. This time the fit was so bad Arthur wheezed for breath afterward. Charles rubbed Arthur's back, hoping the contact would soothe something, even if it was just his soul.

"You're a good man, Arthur Morgan." Charles forced through gritted teeth, afraid if he said more he would have to wipe tears off his face. Arthur chuckled.

"I ain't a good man,"

Charles frowned, if only Arthur could see himself through Charles' gaze. The way he glowed, Arthur's soft smile and kind words. He acted tough, but he loved. Charles closed his eyes and took a deep breath, promising himself he wasn't going to break down.

"I'm only going to say this once, Arthur," Charles warned.

"You're one of the best men I know." Charles smiled bittersweetly like it should be obvious to Arthur.

"You're kind, hard-working, loyal, and smart." Charles removed his hand from Arthur's back, before resting it on his shoulder.

"Hell, you've probably saved my life countless times." Charles sighed, then made eye contact with Arthur. What a horrible choice. Icy blue eyes, bloodshot and tearstained, inflamed with the pain of the human condition. Charles stared back at Arthur with warm brown eyes, trying to keep his equanimity. He was normally very good at it, a skill he prided himself on, but this was different. At that moment, in the clearing, Charles realized something.

He was soft for Arthur Morgan. He wanted to see Arthur happy, he wanted to see him thrive. It took everything in Charles not to scream about how he loved Arthur Morgan... And, more importantly, how much he loved the way Arthur loved. Freely and fully. Arthur rarely shared by the campfire, but when he did it was always a story about saving a man who got bitten by a snake, or a woman who was stranded because her horse died.

"Yer' a good man Charles, one of the best." Arthur choked out, now trying to keep his own composure. Charles just smiled, it was all he could do. But Charles broke when Arthur made eye contact with him again, his face wet with the streams of hot tears that poured down his cheeks. It was instinct as he opened his arms for Arthur, hugging him tightly. In a useless wish, Charles thought about how he regretted not doing this earlier. Arthur clung to Charles and Charles clung just as much back. Arthur wrapped his arms around Charles, burying his head into Charles' chest. In a swift movement, Charles gently brought his hand up to the back of Arthur's head, his other arm wrapped securely around him. They both sat there for a good while, breathing in the scent of each other and trying to memorize the way their bodies fit so perfectly together.

"Shouldn't leave things unsaid, should I?" Arthur finally said, breaking the silence. Charles nodded, still holding Arthur close to his chest.

"Then I think I love you, Charles." Charles wasn't going to debate what exactly Arthur meant by this. Charles didn't care. He loved him back.

"I think I love you too, Arthur," Charles murmured, now gently carding his fingers through Arthur's hair.

"I always imagined you were a Bison," Arthur muttered softly, Charles nodded.

"Dutch told me I was like a buck... Unlikely friends." Arthur chuckled, but it ended in a painful cough that Charles tried his best to soothe.

"You think we'll meet in another life?" Arthur looked up at the sky, it was now dusk, and the stars were beginning to appear. Charles nodded,

"I hope so." Arthur smiled at the response, a real nice smile.

"Then I'll look forward to meeting you all over again." Arthur was always the best at bringing out even the most buried emotions. Charles froze, trying not to lose it. He didn't want Arthur to go. He can't let go. He was never able to let go, everything he ever lost is covered in claw marks from when he tried to make it stay. Charles choked back a sob, gently lifting Arthur's head to place a tender kiss on his forehead. Arthur's blue eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, every decision Arthur ever made had spun through his mind, all leading up to this one single exchange. Perhaps death wasn't going to be that bad. Charles brought both of his hands and cupped Arthur's jaw, looking at him, trying to memorize the face.

Charles knew that love existed because Arthur was love.

That's why, when Charles carried the limp, cold, body of Arthur Morgan down that mountain, one arm around his torso, the other around his leg, he made sure to stop by that clearing. He uprooted those flowers and planted them on his grave. It was the least he could do.

"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for Righteousness."

A/N- Woah! First fanfic on this account! Last time I regularly wrote fanfiction was when I was sixteen (I am in my twenties now). Couldn't get Charthur out of my head so I created this (it got very out of hand very fast). Unfortunately, I do not apologize for the amount of heartbreak this may cause you.

If you would like to leave a request, go for it! I am a full time college student, and I do work two jobs, so there's no telling if I'll ever get to it, but if it's a good enough request I'm sure I'll make time. It's weird to be so familiar yet unfamiliar with creating a fanfic post, but alas, I'll stop yapping. Hope you enjoyed the fic!

Fanart used can be found here, credit to conconarts!

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