#ff: landlines

[mj-iza-writer]

Trigger Warning: Whumpee is encouraged to self harm and self mutilate. Cutting with glass. Probably has some gore inspo as well. Swearing. You've been warned.

Whumper decided to enjoy their lunch in their car. They took the chance of solitude to log their computer into their in-house surveillance system to check on Whumpee and the chores.

Camera one pointed to the to-do list of chores Whumpee had for the day. They were to check off what was done already and to keep on task.

"Well, you're doing pretty good", Whumper started to click through the other cameras, and finally found Whumpee in the kitchen... cleaning up glass."

"Shit, is that my wine glass?", Whumper pulled out their cell phone and dialed the house landline.

Whumpee froze when the phone range, chills went up their back as they turned to the camera.

"Yeah, I see you, answer the damn phone", Whumper frowned.

Whumpee picked up the phone with a quiver in their lip.

"Master I..."

"What the fuck happened to my glass", Whumper cut them off.

"I'm sorry master, I was doing dishes, and it slipped from my hand onto the counter and shattered, please forgive me."

Whumper groaned, "now what am I supposed to drink wine from? That was my only one, and my favorite."

"I-I'm sorry master, please, it was an accident", Whumpee looked dead at the camera while talking to Whumper. They were visibly shaking.

"I know it was an accident, but you know what has to be done", Whumper smirked when Whumpee's shoulders dropped even lower.

"Please master, I-I can't", Whumpee started to cry.

"You either do it now, or you will not like what I come home and do to you, make your choice quickly, you are wasting my lunch", Whumper watched the video feed, "I might remind you, I still have half a day at work. I'll have plenty of time to think of your punishment if you don't punish yourself for me."

Whumpee whimpered.

"What do you want me to do master."

"Find the biggest chunk of glass from the pieces, and show me what it looks like", Whumper sighed and watched Whumpee.

Whumpee returned to the camera holding two pieces of broken glass, and showed them to the camera.

"Master, these are the biggest, which would you prefer?", Whumpee held their breath trying to control their shakiness.

"Use the one in your left hand", Whumper liked how jagged it looked, "lift your shirt, I think you know the rest."

"How many times master", Whumpee winced.

"Since it was accidentally, I will let you get away with one cut, but you better make it count", Whumper grinned.

Whumpee shook, "th-thank-you mas-master ff-or for y-our mer mercy."

"Your welcome, now go on, my lunch is almost over", Whumper grabbed a cookie that Whumpee had packed them, "thanks for the cookie by the way."

"You're wel, welcome mas-master", Whumpee looked down as they held the glass shard against their stomach, "master may I set down the phone to do this?"

"Yes you may."

Whumpee looked up at the ceiling, took a breath, and sliced the glass across their stomach.

They groaned as the blood started to ooze from the wound. Their breathing shallow, deeper breaths made the bleeding worse. They fell to the ground in pain.

Whumpee reached for the phone again, "did that please you master?", they winced on the brink of tears.

"Stand up, let me see", Whumper eyed the cut as Whumpee stood.

"Yes that is sufficient", Whumper smiled, "now put your shirt down and press it against the wound, use your shirt to stop the bleeding."

Whumpee cried as they pressed their shirt against the wound and added pressure. The bleeding quickly seeped through to their fingers. They felt dizzy at the sight of the blood.

"Very good Whumpee, you may clean your wound if you wish, but don't change your shirt", Whumper stuffed the last bit of their sandwich in their mouth, "I want to see it when I get home. Finish cleaning the glass and any blood you left."

"Yes, yes mas-master", Whumpee tried to force a smile, "I am sorry again for my mistakes, thankyou for being merciful to me", they forced out.

"Your welcome. I'm glad we took care of that", Whumper started to get ready to go back to work, "I'll be home the normal time, I've got to go."

"Yes master, goodbye", Whumpee hung up, then fell to the floor again, figuring Whumper was still watching.

They tried to calm themself, they held their hand to their stomach again, and winced when they still had a handful of blood.

They looked at the floor and noticed some blood had dripped out.

"I'm making a mess", they shook.

They rushed to clean themself up, then cleaned the kitchen. The other chores were a bit more difficult with the cut. Thankfully, they managed to finish fifteen minutes before Whumper got home. Plenty of time to start dinner.

Whumper came into the house holding a bag.

"Whumpee?"

"Master, welcome home", Whumpee walked out of the kitchen, and bowed, making sure to hold onto their stomach, "dinner is cooking."

"Great, I stopped and got me a new wine glass, I'll need you to clean it while I eat, you can eat after that", Whumper handed it to them, "please don't break it."

Whumpee reached for it, "yes master."

Whumper followed them into the kitchen and waited for a minute before reaching their hand under Whumpee's shirt.

"Set the glass down and turn to me", they whispered closely to Whumpee's ear.

Whumpee carefully set the glass down, then turned to Whumper.

"It still feels fresh, its sticking to the wound", Whumper smiled then forced the shirt up.

Whumpee screamed in pain, a tear formed in their eye.

"I thought you said what I did was sufficient enough for the punishment master", Whumpee sobbed.

"It was, that had to be removed somehow, you can't let it stick to it the open wound", Whumper looked at the cut happily, "why are you questioning me?"

Whumpee gulped, realizing they accidentally spoke out of term.

"Master I-I'm sorry", Whumpee wasn't sure if they should fall to the floor and beg, or wait for Whumper to do what they pleased.

"Fix my dinner, clean my glass, I'll stew over what to do with you while I eat", Whumper grinned as they exited the kitchen.

Whumpee rushed to finish the food and served Whumper, then cleaned the wine glass.

"Master which wine would you like me to get for you", Whumpee tried to earn some brownie points.

"My normal, put it in my living room with the glass, I'll enjoy some after I finish up with you", Whumper grinned, "don't think I've forgotten."

"Yes master of course", Whumpee went to retrieve the wine, and set it up how Whumper liked.

"May I prepare something to eat master, or would you like me to wait", Whumpee bowed.

"No, I think part of your punishment for talking back will be to miss your dinner. May it remind you that I own you", Whumper smiled as they ate their dinner, they eyed Whumpee, "you did a good job on this meal though."

"Th-thankyou master", Whumpee replied, trying to hide their heartbreak.

"Okay, clean this up, and meet me in the living room", Whumper stood and made their way out.

"Yes master", Whumpee started to clean. They noticed a few morsels of food on the plate, they stared at the plate, licking their lips. Something inside them dared them to eat it.

They jumped when they saw Whumper in the doorway watching, "are you going to do it or not, I'll readjust your punishment tonight, and deny you dinner tomorrow as well. Is it worth it?

Whumpee looked at the plate, then back at Whumper, "no master forgive me."

Whumpee made their way to the living room once the had finished cleaning. Their stomach rumbles making the cut feel worse. They sighed,

Whumper was just pouring their wine, when Whumpee entered the room. They waited for their next command.

"Good, come here, and lay on the ground right under my feet", Whumper drew the area with their foot.

"Do you wish for me to lay on my back, or my stomach master?", Whumpee stepped towards Whumper.

"Lay on your back", Whumper smiled, and took a sip, "did you notice I managed to find a glass like the one you broke?"

"Yes master", Whumpee winced as they laid down, "how would you like my arms?"

"Go ahead and raise them above your head", Whumper watched Whumpee slowly move their arms. They used their foot to push the arms down faster, "I'm growing old watching you."

"I apologize master", Whumpee winced, "it hurts."

Whumper lifted their feet and rested them on Whumpee's stomach, putting pressure onto the cut, "you don't say."

Whumpee cried out as pressure was continually added. "Please master, I beg of you, please no more."

Whumper leaned back and sipped on their wine, "mm, so good."

Whumpee gasped as Whumper rested their feet at a different spot on their chest.

"Thankyou master", Whumpee winced.

"Next time you dare to talk back to me, keep this moment in mind. You are a slave, a doormat, a punching bag. You have no right to control what goes on with your body. I control you."

Whumper dug their heel back into Whumpee's stomach.

Whumpee's breath hitched with the pain.

"Am I clear?", Whumper questioned.

"Yes", Whumpee cried out, "yes master."

"Very good."

Whumpee lay their the rest of the evening as a foot rest. They would whimper every time Whumper threateningly hovered their fooy over the spot.

"Go prepare my prepare my bed", Whumper lifted his feet and watched Whumpee get up, "do your nightly chores, then you can go to bed."

"Yes master", Whumpee hurried out of the room.

When Whumpee was finally able to sleep they turned for a little while trying to get comfortable. They finally found the right position and snoozed off into a hunger dream.

Taglist: as always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

[that-gay-jedi]

I promise I'll stop with my aging anticapitalist yells at cloud type posts after this one but like. Hear me out.

So I've been trying to wean off Audible for their accursed business practices, right? And I use Libby but 10 audiobooks only lasts me like 1 week if I pick long ones, so I'm like some kind of library werewolf who only borrows digital content for the full moon or someshit, ok?

So until my beloved wife NewPipe comes back from the war I've been listening to yt on Firefox, right? Well.

Yt is so determined to enshittify that if you don't disable the yt app (because you can't uninstall it which IMHO means it's officially, inarguably and forever bloatware now) it will open the app instead of the webpage with so little fanfare that if you aren't intentionally watching for it you won't even notice the window shift.

And like. I'm watching like 90 minute lectures from random professors from schools I'll never see giving talks to like 10 people in forgotten university backrooms or for like the anniversary of some church regarded as architecturally significant or as part of winning academic awards I've never heard of etc.

Some of these videos are from like 2013 and you can almost garauntee the speaker uploaded it or agreed to have it filmed + uploaded specifically because they wanted more people to hear their presentation than could or would be present when they originally made it. When you're nerdy about something you usually want to share it, these aren't YouTube Personalities(tm), they're sharing the obscure joys of their phD with losers like me who can't go to school.

You have to wonder if they would have chosen a different platform or gotten a website of their own to put it up on or something if they'd known their lectures, and I mean some of them are putting up entire 10+ hour courses recorded in their own classrooms for FREE solely because they wanted to and could, would become so thoroughly affected by corporate bullshit.

Most lecturers promoted nothing or at most namedropped their own book like once, but their work is now so thoroughly ad-ridden and Schrodinger's paywalled* as to become unwatchable without a bit more spite and tech flexibility** than should be required when the whole point was to share the fucking thing.

Some of those who uploaded content have long since stopped, whether because they've already put up everything they wanted the public to see or because, and in some cases some of them were not at all young in 2008, they've gone on to the big classroom in the sky. Which makes retroactively barriering something they taught freely seem awfully ghoulish if you ask me.

* You know how like, you technically CAN watch videos free on vanilla yt but you can't minimize the window or do anything else with your screen while they're playing? That's the kind of scumbag plausible deniability I'm calling Schrodinger's paywall.

** While it doesn't require much tech savviness to switch to ff or use a frontend for yt, the fact that it requires any at all goes against the spirit of sharing. Your grandma's grandma who remembers party landlines and had to be cajoled to even get a flip phone should be able to ask you "Can you show me that video again with the nice young man talking about the Odyssey?" (the young man is in his 60s) and watch it on a 1995 tower pc with a CRT monitor if she damn well pleases.

[gulliblelemon]

I’m at that point in my life where I worry about my parents. We live a few hours away and my mum hadn’t replied to texts in 2 days so I started to worry.

Then I noticed my dad had only done one Duolingo lesson a day for the last few days, so I’m having visions of one of them being seriously ill (but not so ill that my dad’s willing to lose his Duolingo streak).

I ring their landline to check - no answer.

Now I’m bricking it.

My dad finally answers my (only slightly panicky) text.

My mum’s on a fucking cruise in the Mediterranean and he’s at my brother’s flat in a different city helping him reinstall his kitchen.

FFS.

[pixiemage]

It’s like I’m only dodging every fifth landline on the battlefield, ffs

[pocketscribbs]

look out tangle landline now knows your secret!!

Tangle: Pfff-ff! Whaaaat? Me keeping secrets? HA! Imagine that! Me, keeping secrets…? Doing secret stuff… and being super secret-y about it… not telling anyone about the secret- THAT I DON’T HAVE!!

[julieanniemarieabudayvargas]

Modus Operandi on HARASSMENT ON LOANS SCAM Message sent by the FF MAGTIBAY LAW OFFICE using the CONTACT NUMBERS: GLOBE 09171673583, 09688512432 and 09688512433 LANDLINES 0283722097 today October 6, 2023 and last September 19, 2023 using the numbers above but different mobile of 09988610169; TATIANA also known as JOY YONZON, female, real name "Aih" or Pik in Arabic language, JULIE AGUADO, male (LGBTQ+) a.k.a. "Ai" or Pi in Arabic language, BEN AGUADO, male a.k.a. "Æe" in Arabic language, CARLITO AGUADO a.k.a. "Æa" in Arabic language, male, LITA AGUADO, male (L.G.B.T.Q+) a.k.a. "Aæ" in Arabic language, and GLORIA AGUADO MACALINTAL a.k.a. "Aæh", female and EDUARDO YONZON, male a.k.a. "Ae" in Arabic Language, all are SQUATTERS PRETENTIOUS HEINOUS CRIMINALS in the MODUS OPERANDI of TATIANA POWDER put in cheese to fed cats or pet animals to use the animal poop that has ASUCRA microbes found in cheese (kesong puti) and ASUCROSE microbes found in TATIANA POWDER , that was studied the ...

Modus Operandi on HARRASMENT ON LOANS SCAM Message sent by the FF MAGTIBAY LAW OFFICE using the CONTACT NUMBERS: GLOBE 09171673583, 09688512432 and 09688512433 LANDLINES 0283722097 today October 6, 2023 and last September 19, 2023 using the numbers above but different mobile of 09988610169. Attached are screenshots.

[silberwalkure-blog]

This was my day today. I swear if I have another like it, I'm moving somewhere unknown and changing my name.

I’ve received at least 4 calls from Mum’s healthcare workers that she isn’t answering her calls. I explained her address and the only way to get a hold of her is by her cellphone. I also explained that whenever I try calling her she does answer. So I called the police to do a wellness check

I just got the phone with the constable informing him the last I call I received was about 3 weeks ago when she asked about mail coming from the Gov’t. Because whenever I call, she either doesn’t have on her phone off or doesn’t answer it and can’t make it in her place because one of the kids are sick (no, not C-19) and wouldn’t be allowed in her building. He understood and will call me with an update.

Them I received an update from HPD on Mum:

The constable was able to speak with a care worker that knows Mum (visiting another client) and said that she had went out with friends. He reassured me that going over to check was not a problem and to expect a call from this particular care worker (she was there when he made the call to me).

The care worker calls me no sooner after to cop and I explained that there were a series of calls from a panic workers. She apologized and mentioned she would be talking with Mum, when I asked if she could please let her workers know if she wouldn’t need them. It would save a lot of headache

Now after all this I have a splitting headache. ffs.

I really wish this woman would turn on her damn phone. I received another 6 calls asking if I heard from her, because she's not answering.

What's the point of having a cellphone if it's never used. And before anyone makes the remark that I should pay for a landline (for her). I've done that when she lived in my old house and the bill was something else, not to mention whenever she'd use the phone she became toxic that I nearly lost my phone (ever try to explain to a utility company that the person in question'knows better than others' - I had one Bell rep give me condolences on my sanity).

....and just when I thought I could have a normal (what's left of my) life. Boy, was I wrong.

Here's the thing, I haven’t really spoken to her since we moved. I moved her into a motel for the month of August & September (her new wasn't ready until October 1st), since we needed to fix the house and again on Christmas Day. I tried a few times to tell her about mail, but she never answered her phone. She did call me a few weeks ago asking about some mail coming from the gov’t. Other than that I literally cut ties with her.

If it wasn’t for this care worker panicking requesting I call the police for a wellness check, I wouldn’t be bothered. Sounds cruel, but my mother is a narcissist who comes across as some sweet little old lady to a person's face, but once they're out of sight becomes a very toxic person.

[kxtepryde]

closed starter for @lxgan-hxwlett​

It was a landline in Southern New Hampshire that always seemed to cycle into a recording. “Hi, you’ve reached Carmen Pryde. I can’t get to the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” The inbox was full, but Kitty always waited until the end. She waited through the soft timber of her father’s voice, until the automated message picked up where he left off. Until the machine clicked off, and she dialed again. And again. And again.

Then she’d call a new number, knowing full well it had been disconnected. But that’s how it had always worked before. Her dad would stumble, for all she loved him, and she’d dial Logan’s number instead. Then he’d fly across the ocean to pull her from a sewer in Japan and–

And she wondered exactly when that number had gone from disconnected, to a real, solid person on the other end. If it was like Erik. If he’d risen from a grave somewhere and decided to hide. If he’d made the conscious decision to text the news instead of seeking her out. (And was that a reflection on her? On their relationship to each other? Did she mean so little.

That her dad could leave and sell out all in one breath, that Erik and Logan both could find a place to hide instead of face being alive again–)

“Was the text to keep me away?” She walked straight through his wall, and wow, if he didn’t look exactly the same. A little rough around the edges, a little tired around the eyes. He always had the same frown on his face, the one she knew she could poke and prod until he gave in. She wanted to hug him and shove him all at once. “You gotta know me better than that by now.”

[jackkal]

love how steam will fight you to the death literally gaslight u into downloading things.. im tryna update sumn and "left 4 dead 2 has finished downloading" oh thanks king i pushed pause on that abt 20 times today but thanks

[aliceinhabsland]

Switched from Virgin Mobile (which is a fantastic service provider, I love them and they went above and beyond for me for the past six years, I highly recommend them) to Public Mobile last week. It would have been an easy, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am 2-minute switch, but I wanted to keep my phone number

and because of that one thing

it's taken a whole damn week of back and forth messaging with a whole host of forumers and mods on Public Mobile's website to get the porting compete.

Nuisance and a half, but finally I can get by with one dun and get incoming calls. 😐

[snailtaxidermy]

'I could get used to this,'

Billy Lenz (1974) x Male!Reader (Part 2)

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol.

(Sfw)

Part 1: 'I'll stay, for a little while'

--

Ever since my strange experience in the sorority attic a few days ago, he's all that's been on my mind. Billy. The moaner. Whatever you want to call him, he's taken up my thoughts.

Luckily for me, Barb's invited me back over for a few more drinks this evening- reckon I'm one of the only men she can trust not to flirt with her in some way after a few pints.

"Yeah, most of the girls are out seeing their families 'bout now, if you'd wanna come over and have a few?"

"Sounds good to me, when suits you?" I ask, twirling the landline cord between my fingers.

"Tonight, if you want. I'm bored as fuck, drinking alone is depressing," She chuckles, and I can't help but smile.

"Sure. Time?"

"Uhh..." She pauses for a moment, "'Bout 6ish?"

"Hell yeah,"

"Great, see ya then,"

Putting down the phone, a surge of some strange excitement rushes through me- If i sneak up to that creepy little attic again, I could see him! I hope he keeps that promise.

I shake that thought from my mind. It's reasonable to be nervous, plus, I have to visit him at some point to build trust, and to keep the girls safe. Yeah. That's the only reason. Totally.

Maybe I'll bring him a little gift- It is the holidays, after all.

--

My car squeaks slightly as I pull up to the sorority house's driveway, tires churning against the snow covered tarmac- it's a desperate battle to stay upright on this God forsaken icy road, but I manage to get to the front door without falling on my face, which is a pretty good start.

I look up to the attic window overlooking the home on instinct, half expecting to see him looking down at me, but I'm met with empty glass. Trying to ignore my disappointment, I knock twice on the door.

"Heyyy," Barb greets me in a singsong voice.

"Heyyy," I mimic, chuckling, handing her a bottle of fairly decent red wine. "For a special occasion,"

"Oh? What occasion?"

"Two buds getting hammered together, obviously,"

She laughs, gladly accepting the bottle and guiding me to the living room.

The evening passes smoothly, and my vision feels blurry when we decide that it's definitely time to go to bed. Standing up is much more of a chore than it should be, and I'm starting to realise that I might be a little bit very drunk.

Once I hear Barb's bedroom door close, I shuffle down the hall as quietly as I can and clamber up the ladder to Billy's little hideout.

"Hey, you, uh, you up here?" I call into the darkness, speech slurring ever so slightly.

"Y/N?" The familiar voice whispers.

"Yeah,"

"Piggy came back... Piggy came back..." He repeats under his breath, crawling towards me with wide eyes.

"Obviously I came back, a promise's a pppromise," I mumble.

I shimmy my way onto the cold floor above, and he stares at me in fascination.

"Has Y/N been drinking?"

"Just a fffew... with Barb,"

"Is, uhm, is Y/N okay? In the head? Feeling okay?" He asks, the concerned look on his face making me laugh a little bit too loud.

"Shh!! No, no, we have to... we have to be quiet." Billy says, quickly pressing his finger against my lips.

"Mm'kay," I mumble into his hand, grinning.

There's a strange silence for a minute or so, before I loudly exclaim, "Oh! I, uh, I brought you... a thing..."

"A thing? A thing?" He repeats my tone, partially to himself and partially to me.

"Yeah, 'cus, well, it's almost Christmas, right? It's in the... ssspare room, come on, c... come on..." I tug at his sleeve, feeling awfully dizzy.

Billy looks a little shocked. "You want Billy to come down? With you?"

He fumbles with his sleeves awkwardly.

"Yeah, I mean, it's cold as ff.. ffuck up here man, and Barb's gone to bed,"

He back and forth between me and the ladder down from the attic, before smiling shyly and saying a small 'Okay'.

We make our way down the ladder, me stumbling and him desperately trying to keep me upright whilst not falling off himself, and we tiptoe to the spare room.

Billy shuts the door as quietly as he can behind us, and lets out a deep sigh of relief.

"D'ya wanna watch a ssscary movie?" Giggling at my slurred voice, I slump down on my bed and gaze at him through half closed eyes.

"Oh! The... the Christmas!" I whisper yell- looks confused at my sudden outburst.

"The present! The Christmas present!" I laugh, reaching under my pillow and bringing out the woollen jumper I'd bought on the way to the house. "Had to hide it under the pillow, didn't want Barb to be... Barb to be all suspicious," I explain lazily.

"A... A jumper?" He asks timidly, shuffling closer to me and gently taking it from me; unfolding it, his eyes light up immensely. "It has... It has penguins..."

"Sure fuckin' does, man," I smile to myself, leaning back down.

Billy stares at it for a few moments. "Can Billy, uhm, put it on?"

I nod, confused. Obviously he can, it's his.

"Can Y/N turn around, then? Please?" He mumbles, sheepish.

"Oh, oh, right," I focus on standing up without plummeting on my face, and start rifling through the selection of V.H.S tapes in the cupboard under the shitty T.V in the room. "Ooo! What about Psycho?"

I fumble with the tape box for a moment, not coordinated enough to get it open, but a pair of pale hands meet my own; prying the case open with ease, and placing it back in my hands.

"...Thanks," I mumble, my heart beating faster when he touched my hands.

A heavy silence fills the room.

"You, uh, you look really nice in the... in the jumper..."

"It's very soft," He says simply, rubbing the sleeves on his face.

I smile gently.

"Hey, uhm, can you put it in thhe..." I gesture vaguely to the television, holding the tape up to him. "Everything's real fuzzy right now,"

Billy giggles, placing the tape in the T.V. I hold out my hand for him to help me up; he complies, and I lean against him when we sit on my bed, feeling my eyes get heavier.

By the halfway point of the movie, I'm out cold on his lap.

--

I slowly open my eyes, feeling groggy and uncoordinated, with a weight on top of me- I quickly recognise it as Billy, fast asleep with his head resting on my chest, his head rising and falling with every inhale and exhale I take.

Barely awake, I simply lace my fingers into his tangled brown hair and close my eyes again, falling asleep as quickly as I'd woken up.

--

Movement wakes me, opening my eyes to the softly lit room as the man asleep beside me, his hands resting at my waist and his face nuzzled into my neck, moves slightly in his slumber. I decide to just savour the moment, playing with his wild hair whilst I still have the chance. He's still wearing that cringey jumper I bought, I smile to myself. I try and ignore my splitting headache, and how embarrassing it is that I let Barb get me that drunk.

About 10 minutes pass before he starts to wake up.

"Mornin', sleepyhead," I say quietly, fondness in my voice.

He groans in response, digging his face deeper into my shoulder.

Yeah, I could get used to this.

[windowinthesky88]

Five Favorites: Week 3

Five Favorites: Week 3

-1-

This morning I got an email from Veils by Lily. It was announced of new veils titled, Chinese Blossom Veils. They are so beautiful! Looks like I might be seeing if I can get one with our next pay.

-2-

If you have never heard of Aquinas 101, I would highly recommend it. Next week I will be finally getting back into working on the lessons they have produced. Should I mention it is…

[ladylynse]

Chapter 7 [FF | AO3] of Revision: Maddie can’t deny it any longer. If ectoplasm can become blood, there’s more to this story than she ever realized.

Beginning | Previous

-|-

“You don’t need to sound like you expect the phone to bite you, even with all that ghost stuff you and that husband of yours get up to.”

Maddie blinked. “Alicia,” she said, more for Jazz and Vlad’s benefit than anything else, “I didn’t realize you’d gotten yourself a phone.” Last Maddie had checked, Alicia hadn’t had a landline, and Spittoon was a notorious dead spot when it came to cell service. Not even all the farms had been connected on a party line when she’d been growing up.

Sure, she’d given Alicia her cell phone number, just in case, but Alicia had never used it before. Typically, if she called the house and didn’t get an answer, she’d just leave a message. Maddie had never needed to get back to her about anything urgent. Letters and surprise visits had always been sufficient.

“I didn’t. Calling from the general store, like always.”

That…was even more unexpected. Not that Alicia had made trip, as she certainly had in the past and it wasn’t terribly far from her place, but…. Maddie checked her watch. “It’s only 8:30. I didn’t think Johnson’s opened till ten?”

“You think I ain’t never done a favour for Dottie?”

Maddie frowned. If Alicia was calling in favours…. Alicia was the sort of person who hoarded owed favours. She hated being in other people’s debt but enjoyed having something to call on in case she was ever in a pinch, though Maddie could count the number of times Alicia had admitted to being in a tight spot on one hand. More often, Alicia dug in her heels and found a way to deal with the problem herself, even if her solution wasn’t ideal and often when said solution was more time-consuming than asking for help.

If Alicia was calling in a favour now, then it must be some sort of emergency.

That wasn’t indicated by her tone, though, which sounded about the same as it always did. No trace of panic, though there wouldn’t be even if it did merit that. This was Alicia, after all. Even as kids, she’d been quicker to anger than Maddie, but she kept a level head.

“What’s happened?” Maddie asked. Alicia appreciated straightforwardness. “You’re not calling just to chat.” She was tempted to say she couldn’t do this right now, that a second family emergency could wait, that her son was missing and trying to help a girl who might be dying because of Maddie, and that was more important than whatever Alicia had to say—

But this was Alicia, and she wouldn’t have dug out the number for Maddie’s cell phone on a whim, and she certainly wouldn’t have called in a favour if the situation weren’t dire.

“You need to get down here.”

That wasn’t an answer, let alone one Maddie might have expected. “I can’t. Believe me, I want to support you in whatever you’re going through right now, but—”

“You think this is about me?”

Maddie didn’t know how to answer that.

“I wouldn’t be calling if this were about me.”

That…was all too likely to be true.

“What’s going on?” Maddie didn’t know why she was whispering, especially when Jazz and Vlad were going to listen in regardless.

“I figure you’ve got one chance to make amends with your son,” was Alicia’s blunt response. Maddie’s gasp alerted the others, but she waved off their questions. “I don’t know what you’ve done to your kids. I don’t approve of it. If I were told the truth from them, I probably wouldn’t even be calling you right now. Kids don’t run for no reason. And if they had good reason, you know darn well I’m protecting them, even if it means protecting them from you.”

Maddie couldn’t find her voice.

“I figure you can come here and explain to me what you say is going on. And then I can tell them what you said and ask them for their side of things again. And then I’ll think about whether or not you should get a chance to talk to them and see if your son agrees with me, and then I’ll tell you what we decided.”

It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was so much more than she’d had before.

Danny and Danielle weren’t necessarily staying with Alicia right now—if she were calling in favours, they could be housed anywhere in the county, something she’d know Maddie knew—but even if they were, trying to circumvent Alicia’s terms to see them would be foolish.

Her sister had always been very good at making booby traps, and sneaking around wouldn’t exactly help Maddie’s case.

“Okay.” There was nothing else to say. “I’ll catch the first flight I can. I’ll—”

“Just come alone,” Alicia interrupted. “Now’s not the time for Jack to barge in with nothing more than enthusiasm.”

And an apology, Maddie wanted to say. Always an apology. But Jack wasn’t the one who needed to apologize—not yet, at least; she had to do so first—and she gained nothing from defending Jack now. Alicia knew his character nearly as well as Maddie did; she already knew what Maddie could say about him.

“All right.” She’d make her own apologies to Jack later. “Thank you.”

Alicia, being Alicia, hung up the phone without any sort of ceremony, including a goodbye. Maddie listened to the dial tone for a few seconds before hanging up herself. She met Jazz’s eyes and then Vlad’s and said, “I have to go to Alicia’s.”

“Now?”

“What happened?”

The questions were voiced at the same time, so Maddie shook her head instead of answering them. “Jazz, please put aside your differences with Vlad long enough to work with him until this is over. You two can continue to check the tracking device.” The tracking device that was no longer necessary. Probably. Hopefully. If Danny refused to see her, if he hadn’t known of Alicia’s call and this spooked him into running again…. “Keep me informed of any updates from Sam and Tucker and Jack. I’ll take a Fenton Phone with me, but I’ll only have it tuned to your channel to minimize distractions.”

“Daniel’s still missing,” Vlad said, and there was something in his voice that Maddie couldn’t quite place. Reproach? Suspicion? “Surely no family emergency is more important than this one. I always got the impression that Alicia was quite self-sufficient.”

Vlad had never met Alicia, but he’d heard stories. “She is,” Maddie agreed, “which is why, if she needs me there, I know that I have to go.”

Jazz’s lips were pursed, and Maddie wondered if she suspected the truth, but she didn’t ask. She wouldn’t, not in front of Vlad. Maddie hadn’t thought she’d have reason to be grateful for Jazz’s mistrust in him now.

Alicia was right. Danny, regardless of whether he agreed to see her, didn’t need her to bring an overprotective sister down on him, nor an enthusiastic and loving father, nor an old family friend who’d spent practically their entire relationship pretending to be his enemy in order to prepare him.

“I can fly you in the helicopter,” Vlad offered, but Maddie shook her head.

“No; it’s best if you work with Jazz. I’ll take Air Grits. They go right over Spittoon, and there’s time for me to catch the next flight.”

“Mom,” Jazz started, and then she bit her lip as if second guessing herself. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

She wasn’t, really. It would be different if she knew for certain that Alicia had had Danny’s blessing to call, but…. “I have to, honey.” She pulled Jazz into a hug and whispered, “Hold down the fort here for me, okay? I love you.” She didn’t say that often enough.

“Of course,” Jazz said as she returned the hug. “Love you, too.”

It was a relief Jazz could still say those words and—presumably—mean them.

Maddie wasn’t sure Danny could, but she’d find out soon enough.

XXXXXXX

Maddie had time to shower and change into casual clothes before leaving for the airport.

She didn’t bother packing a bag.

The trip was as uneventful as ever, though she wasn’t sure if the queasy feeling in her stomach was due to the horrendous turbulence or the knowledge of what was coming. She misjudged her leap from the plane, landing nearer to Johnson’s General Store than Alicia’s cabin, but that was just as well. The usual crew was chewing tobacco out front, and Jasper spat out a wad before standing and nodding at her. “I’ll let Alicia know you’re here,” he said.

Maddie didn’t protest or ask how much any of them knew of the situation. She simply folded up her parachute, took it in to Johnson’s—they’d get a finder’s fee for returning it to Air Grits—and sat on the sun-warmed steps to wait, wondering if she was already too late. Perhaps she should’ve taken up Vlad’s offer of a helicopter after all. It wouldn’t have been hard to direct him to Spittoon. Then again, she wasn’t sure how far his helicopter could travel without needing to refuel, and—

“What on earth did you do now, Maddie?”

Maddie jumped, not sure how long she’d been lost in her thoughts. Jasper had already returned to his usual spot, and Alicia was towering over her. She climbed to her feet. “Not here.”

Alicia didn’t move. “I ain’t taking you to those kids till they agree that that’s what I should do.”

“I know, I just….” Maddie took a deep breath. “They’re safe, at least?”

“Currently safe from you, yeah.”

The words hurt. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you need to be saying that to.”

“I know. I…. I hope they’ll listen to me.”

“We’ll see.” Alicia glanced over at the guys who were, in Maddie’s opinion, doing an awful job of pretending they weren’t listening. None of them had hit the spittoon even once during her short conversation with Alicia. “Let’s head to the back forty. We can check the crop while you talk.”

Maddie bit her tongue instead of arguing and followed. The farm wasn’t Alicia’s—she had a garden beyond the rhubarb patch but not fields of crops—but Maddie wouldn’t be surprised if Alicia helped out. Most people around here helped each other out when they needed it. It wasn’t a mentality Maddie had ever intentionally drifted from—hunting down the ghosts that came through Amity Park had been helping the people—but she wasn’t fool enough to insist that she was still the same person she’d once been.

Alicia would call her out in a heartbeat if she tried.

Alicia didn’t start the conversation, and after a few minutes, Maddie decided she didn’t want to be wrapped in this silence any longer. They’d be far enough away from listening ears now. “Does Danny know you called?”

“He does now.”

Maddie winced. He hadn’t before, then. “And he’s okay with that?”

“That was one thing I didn’t give him a choice about.”

“Why? Why call me at all?” Another thought struck her. “What did they tell you?”

“That’s something I might answer after I hear things from you.” Alicia glanced over her shoulder. “I wanted to see your face when you told me. Your tells haven’t changed.”

That explained Alicia’s insistence on phoning and asking her here before getting an explanation, at least, but…. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”

Maddie didn’t need to meet her sister’s eye as she said it to know the look that would be on her face.

“Should you have?”

“Of course not! We had hypotheses that needed testing, but we hadn’t had a chance to test them, that’s the point, and—” Alicia stopped and looked over at Maddie as she drew level, her argument dying on her tongue at the look on Alicia’s face. There was more than just disappointment reflected in her furrowed brow, more than just controlled anger causing her mouth to twist like that. “What?”

“What happened to that sister of mine who cried whenever a bird flew into the window and never flew away again?”

Maddie frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You used to have compassion. Empathy.”

Her insides were twisting again. “I still do.”

Alicia raised an eyebrow. “Do you now.” It wasn’t a question. “That’s not the impression I get from the kids.”

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” Maddie repeated, but it sounded like a hollow excuse now. “I didn’t.”

“But you should have.”

“I just said—”

“You should have. You would’ve, once. But then you went off to college and made some questionable friends and a questionable career choice, and you aren’t as smart as you used to be.”

“That’s uncalled for.”

“Is it? The Maddie I grew up with would’ve used her head a bit more than it sounds like you’ve been doing lately.”

Maddie sighed. “Look, I know you don’t believe in ghosts—”

“Didn’t. I believe in something near enough now. I’m not fool enough to ignore the evidence right in front of my eyes.”

At some point in the walk, Alicia had snagged the head of some fescue grass and was bending the stem around her fingers. She always liked to be doing something. Maddie supposed she should be grateful Alicia hadn’t decided to pull out her pocketknife instead and pick up a branch to start sharpening stakes for later use.

“I didn’t know there were any ghosts that weren’t ghosts,” Maddie said. “It shouldn’t be possible for a human to have ghost-like abilities, at least not long term, and a complete transformation is unheard of.” She swallowed. “Was unheard of.”

“You try to keep an open mind to the possibility?”

Maddie frowned. “We’ve seen humans with ghost-like abilities in the short-term, when a ghost virus swept through Casper High, but—” She broke off, seeing the unamused look on Alicia’s face, and thought of what Danny and Danielle might have already told her.

I’m human, too.

She must know that Danielle had tried to tell Maddie the truth. That she hadn’t listened. That she’d kept going regardless—

“Ghosts lie.” It was a feeble claim even to her own ears.

“Do they? Every word? Or about the same as any human might?”

Maddie swallowed. “I didn’t know,” she repeated. “I thought I was just studying a ghost. I�� I wouldn’t have gone as far as I did if I’d known.”

“Really.”

Maddie knew that tone. Alicia sounded just like their mother once had whenever they had come up with some sorry excuse or wild tale to try to avoid trouble. They had never come out better after hearing it.

She doubted that outcome was going to change, even if she was now hearing it from her sister instead.

“Seems to me your curiosity got the better of you and you kept going even after you should’ve stopped.”

“You’re not being fair. You know my scientific study requires me to form a hypothesis and then attempt to disprove it.”

“Last I heard, scientific study also requires you to keep an open mind. Not to mention not creating experiments designed to give you the results you want because you can find yourself a pretty little reason to ignore something that’s contrary to what you expect.”

Maddie ran a hand through her hair. “Look,” she said, “you don’t know the whole story. You need to understand where I was coming from.”

“Well, then by all means, why don’t you tell me where you’re coming from,” Alicia said as she crossed her arms. “You can see just how much that makes me think you shouldn’t be let near those kids again, trying to defend yourself now.”

“I’m not trying to excuse what I did,” Maddie said, though that wasn’t entirely true. Any lessening of this guilt inside would be a boon, though it wasn’t one she deserved. “I just need you to understand what I knew when everything started.” Alicia nodded and then started walking again, and Maddie kept pace with her as she explained.

Over twenty years of research into ghosts and the Ghost Zone, each new discovery painting a worse picture. Lies and manipulation, all-consuming obsessions, either emotionless or fuelled solely by negative emotions. Routine attacks, an attempt to expand territory with no value for human life. Now that Alicia was listening, Maddie tried to tell her everything.

And then she got to her successful hunt, the way she’d subdued the phantom, and she couldn’t—

Danielle’s pleading voice struck differently now.

If I show you, will you stop?

Maddie hadn’t stopped.

She hadn’t given Danielle a chance to show her.

She hadn’t listened.

By the time they reached the edge of the field, Maddie was crying, and she couldn’t stop. She hadn’t known, but Alicia was right; she should have known, if only she’d listened, if only she’d stopped to consider the consequences of her beliefs being wrong, if only—

“It was a mistake,” she whispered, her voice cracking on the word. When Alicia offered her a packet of tissues before turning back to the field, she took it gratefully. “You—you know I couldn’t have done that to another human if I’d— You know I couldn’t.”

“But you did.” Alicia’s voice wasn’t as harsh as it could’ve been, more matter of fact than scathing. Maddie wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or not that Alicia wasn’t looking at her. Instead, Alicia resolutely picked open the florets of a wheat head she’d snagged, checking—if Maddie didn’t miss her guess—for the telltale orange specks of wheat midge. “You did, and you can’t take that back. So what do you plan to do now?”

Maddie sniffed, wiped at her nose with one of the tissues, and immediately needed another. “I want to help them. To fix this.”

“How?”

That was the problem, wasn’t it? Maddie still wasn’t sure how, even if Danny and Danielle did decide to give her the chance. “I just need to talk to them—”

Alicia looked up at her then and dropped the head of wheat to the ground. “Talking’s fine, but sometimes talk’s just talk. What are you actually planning to do?”

“I still need to apologize first. They…. I don’t expect them to forgive me, at least not right away if they do, but I have to apologize.”

“How?”

“By apologizing,” Maddie said, but then she realized that’s not what Alicia meant. Saying sorry wouldn’t be enough, at least not in Alicia’s opinion, and her sister wasn’t often wrong. She took a slow breath and tried to collect her thoughts. “I’d leave all my weapons behind. I’ve already done that, of course, but…. I’d talk to Jack and declare an official, indefinite truce with Phantom. I’d…. I’d start listening. Actually listening, not just dismissing whatever’s said on the assumption of ignorance.”

Alicia merely looked at her, waiting. Maddie tried not to wilt under the steady gaze. Alicia had always been good at cards, far better than Maddie, who couldn’t keep her emotions off her face.

“Jack and I would do what we could to help.” She didn’t need to ask Jack to be confident in that. “Danny’s enthusiasm is admirable, but he can’t do all this himself, and keeping Amity Park safe is what we do. What we try to do. And Danielle….” She swallowed.

Danielle was the centre of everything. Maddie didn’t quite understand how, though she knew there must be more to the story than Vlad had said or Jazz had guessed. Danielle might take her lead from Danny, but more likely, he’d leave this up to her. In the brief moment Maddie had seen them together, there had been a level of trust and care and love that she hadn’t been able to fathom at the time.

“If Danielle tells me any part of her story,” Maddie said slowly, “I’d welcome it, but even if she doesn’t, if she needs a home, if she was really out there on her own— If she wanted to come back with us, she could. I know Jack wouldn’t object. If…if Danny will come back with her, she might be more comfortable. I just…. I don’t know if that offer would make it worse. I don’t…. I wouldn’t experiment on them. I’d help them, if they’re willing to accept my help, to try to understand what happened, but I wouldn’t….” She realized she was twisting a lock of hair around her finger and stopped, purposefully reaching for another tissue to hold on to instead. She’d need it soon enough. “There must be someone she could talk to—we could all talk to—that doesn’t end with me—” Locked up. Imprisoned. “I’d walk away from my research entirely if that’s what it took.”

Alicia gave a non-committal hum.

Maddie remembered how she’d thought Vlad had walked away from his research—and how he hadn’t. “I’d at least refocus. General studies of ectoplasmic properties should help them, and I don’t have to break it down to its components to do that.” It was an option, certainly, and would increase the accuracy of certain tests, but she didn’t have to pursue the ones which required that. “I…. I’d need to talk to Vlad. He’s studied this already.”

Alicia huffed, but she’d never been a fan of Vlad when Maddie had talked about him and Jack in their college days. Maddie knew that while Alicia thought Maddie would do quite well on her own, she’d made it clear she figured that if Maddie were making a choice between those two, she’d made the right one. Jack’s bumbling apology last year hadn’t dissuaded Alicia from that notion.

“You show ‘em you’re willing to listen before you do that.”

Maddie’s brow furrowed. “What makes you say that?”

“Some of what the kids haven’t said in so many words.” Alicia turned back to the field, walking in past the headland while Maddie hovered at the edge.

Maddie used the time for what it was and tried to collect herself. She’d had time on the plane, but she’d been too consumed with worry to sort anything out. Now that she knew Danny and Danielle were safe, it felt like she had time to breathe, to take in everything she’d learned, to parse through what Jazz had said and what she hadn’t—

And what Vlad had said and what he hadn’t.

At some point, Maddie dropped to sit cross-legged on the ground, head in her hands as she tried to absorb all of this. When Alicia came back, she wasn’t sure it had been enough time, but the stiffness in her body had her checking her watch and realizing exactly how much time had passed. She was less than graceful for a few steps once she was back on her feet, but she caught up to Alicia as she started to head back—to the general store, judging by her trajectory, rather than her house.

“Do you…do you think Danny will hear me out?” Maddie asked once it was plain that Alicia was content to let the silence stretch. “If I promise him I’ll listen?”

“Might. Might not. I don’t plan on nudging him one way or the other on that. I only ever planned to nudge you.”

“And will Danielle—? Is she—? She’ll recover?”

Alicia didn’t answer right away. Then, “Physically. I reckon everything else’ll take a lot longer.”

Maddie let out a shaky breath. “I’d like to at least talk to Danny, even if Danielle never wants to see me again.”

“People would like a lot of things. I’d like it if we hadn’t ever needed to have this conversation, but we don’t always get what we’d like. I’d also like it if you didn’t keep asking for things I said I couldn’t promise you you’d get.”

“Alicia—”

“Maddie.” Her tone was mocking.

“Please. You know I’m trying.”

Alicia sighed, reaching out for Maddie’s arm and pulling her to a stop. “I know. I want to make sure you understand the situation. If they don’t want to see you, they won’t be seeing you. If Danny wants to see you, he’ll see you. I’ll be there if he wants, but only if that’s what he wants. He’s old enough to make that decision for himself, and I shouldn’t need to tell you again that I don’t plan on pushing him. And another thing you should know? If they don’t want to see you now, it doesn’t necessarily mean they won’t want to see you ever, you got that? But they’ve gotta make the call on that change, not you or Jack.”

Maddie swallowed. “What if Danny won’t come home?”

“That’s a question for him, not me.”

“The authorities wouldn’t see it that way.”

“Are you really planning on dragging the authorities into this?”

Maddie winced. “No, but there would be questions if he didn’t return to Amity Park. Even his school records—”

“I’d take care of it.”

“You don’t have those kinds of connections.”

“You don’t know what kind of connections I have anymore. Right now, it seems to me that those two are safer with me than they are with you. You might rightly regret what’s done, but you can’t undo it. You might be ready to try to make amends and forge a new path forward, but they might not be. They might need time. And if they need it, I’ll make sure they get it.”

Maddie stared at her sister. Alicia had never wanted kids, but Maddie was certain Alicia would give up whatever she could for those two kids right now. She really did trust herself with them more than she trusted Maddie.

Maddie supposed she shouldn’t be surprised.

She wouldn’t trust someone who’d done what she’d done, either.

“Trauma isn’t something you can just get over. You can’t bury it and ignore it or snap your fingers and expect it to go away because you want it to. Whatever you’re expecting with them—both of them, not just Danielle—isn’t what you’re gonna get, and accepting that is one of the first things you need to do.” Alicia hesitated before adding, “All of this isn’t something you’re going to be able to get over right away, either.”

Maddie clenched her hands, feeling her fingernails digging into her palms since she wasn’t wearing her usual protective gloves. “I’m not expecting that.”

“You’re acting like you’re expecting it. You act like you can see your side, see my side, even understand a bit of their side, but you’re compartmentalizing again. You can’t just keep putting all the things you don’t want to think about into a box and not look at it.”

That box had once been real—Maddie had kept it on her side of the bed, tucked up between the headboard and the wall—and Alicia no doubt remembered how well that had ended for Maddie once it had been uncovered.

From the sounds of it, she was anticipating a similar fallout.

“I’m not against you unless I need to be,” Alicia said. “You know that, right?”

Maddie knew. Whenever she’d needed her sister, Alicia had been there. Maddie had tried to do the same for her, though she hadn’t always succeeded. This situation was different from any in the past, of course. Alicia wouldn’t stand beside Maddie and stare down the other side; she’d stand where she felt she needed to stand once she talked it over with Danny, whether between Maddie and the kids or beside them. Maddie could understand that. She wouldn’t have it any other way. She trusted her sister and her judgement.

Maddie nodded.

“Good. Now, let’s get you over to Margie’s and get some hot food in you while you wait to see how things shake out. I’ll come talk to you after I talk to the kids.”

Maddie hadn’t eaten at Margie’s diner in years, but she doubted the food had changed. Chances were, there was still a roadkill special. Not actual roadkill, of course. It was Margie’s way of using up whatever meat was about to turn if it didn’t get eaten. At least, that’s what Maddie hoped it was. She’d never had it, though it was something Alicia would pointedly order whenever they were out together simply so she could watch Maddie’s face as she tore into the mystery meat and claim that it tasted just like possum.

Still, renovation and interior design wasn’t something that happened in Spittoon short of something needing to be rebuilt for whatever reason. If there had been anything from a break-in to a fire, she’d have heard about it. The diner would be unchanged. She’d walk through the doors, smell the same smells and see the same sights, sit down at one of the tables with two chairs, pick up the card that served as a menu at the side of the table propped between the napkins and the salt and pepper shakers, and order the same thing she always ordered anyway.

It would feel like she’d never left.

Maybe she shouldn’t have.

“Just trust me.” Alicia’s hand fell on Maddie’s shoulder and she steered her back along the path. “I’ll be back to let you know the decision as soon as I can.”

What was she going to do if Danny refused to speak with her? What was she going to tell Jack and Jazz? What if she’d cut through their family ties—

“Don’t go borrowing trouble,” Alicia snapped. Maddie blinked, and her sister continued. “I know that expression of yours, and you’ve worry enough without everything you can’t control. Get something in your stomach. Sit in on coffee row. Ask Johnny when it’s supposed to rain and listen to him forecast based on which joint hurts and how much before he gets into an argument with George. Place a bet on who’ll grow this year’s prize pumpkin or which one of Frank’s lot will calve first next spring. Get your mind off the situation and let me do what I need to do.”

Maddie forced a smile onto her face, though from Alicia’s raised eyebrow, she wasn’t fooled. “What if I win any of those bets?”

“I’ll collect for you when the time comes.”

“And you don’t think leaving me alone with my thoughts will cause me more worry?”

“Not if you open your mouth and ask Eugene how he’s doing, I won’t. That man can still talk your ear off, and he’s always in Margie’s at this time with the rest of them.” She pulled some money from her pocket and handed it to Maddie. “Here, my treat.”

“I can’t—”

“You can. Or you can sit tied in a chair in my rhubarb patch with Jasper and the rest of them watching you. Your choice.”

Maddie’s eyes narrowed, but she took the money; she could always tuck it away somewhere in Alicia’s house before she went home. “You don’t want to distract me. You want me somewhere the others can keep an eye on me.”

“You think I can’t kill two birds with one stone?”

Maddie knew Alicia could, both literally and figuratively. She’d seen her do it more than once, though it wasn’t always with birds, and it wasn’t always with stones. “Can you be back within the hour, at least?”

“I’ll be back when I’m back.” That was Alicia, evasive as always. “Margie’s will be a lot more comfortable than the rhubarb patch this time of year.”

“I’ll go to Margie’s.” The gossip from Johnson’s would’ve already reached whoever was gathered there, but she could smile and pretend that she had come for a surprise visit. Most everyone would know the lie for what it was, but they wouldn’t know the whole truth and they wouldn’t straight up ask for it till she was gone, and that’s all that Maddie cared about at the moment.

Better to inspire another betting pool than have everyone in town looking at her sideways after hearing about what she’d done.

Besides, there was no sense in arguing with Alicia. Maddie had never had much luck winning those arguments when they were kids, even though they were both the same brand of stubborn. Not to mention, with the way the day was going, she shouldn’t turn down the chance to have a decent meal. If she did get the opportunity to talk to Danny, food would be the last thing on her mind.

“Thank you,” Maddie whispered. From the corner of her eye, she caught Alicia’s lips twitching into a smile.

“Just keep putting one foot in front of the other and you’ll find a path through this,” was all Alicia said in response.

Maddie didn’t miss the fact that Alicia had said a path and not the path. Whatever happened next, things might not turn out the way Maddie wanted. The way she hoped they would. She had to accept that, to do her best, to hope that things would circle back in the future if they didn’t go well.

Until Alicia brought back word from Danny and Danielle, all Maddie could do—or rather, all Maddie should do—was wait.

Maddie hadn’t brought anything with her that might circumvent that waiting, but that had been deliberate.

As much as she wanted to talk to her son, she didn’t want to do it when he wasn’t expecting her.

She might not know what news Alicia would return with, but she knew there would be news, and that was infinitely preferable to the uncertainty and ambiguity of before.

This time, the waiting would almost be bearable.

(see more fics | next)

[mymadmedleyw]

Memories

Summary: Even if you try to block things out, sometimes, those things want to find you...

(ao3 | ff)

---

Dan growled, holding his head, and then grabbed the nearest pillow to cover his ear, but the echoing ringing didn’t go away and it didn’t become quieter either. He shut his eyes to force himself to sleep, trying to close it out. But at first, he wasn’t sure if he could sleep at all and- well, he either could tell if that was necessary. It would die away eventually. They had to give up, right? It was like, what? Nearly eleven? Who the hell was even calling the Fentons that late? It must have been some bored teenagers, right? A part of a stupid truth-or-dare game or something like that.

He tried to ignore the echoing noise, really, but it just didn’t want to shut it. He was even wondering if that was even real. It shouldn’t have been ringing that long naturally, right? Especially, he was wondering about how the hell the others could sleep with this damn constant ringing. Or was it just his quite sensitive hearing that he couldn’t endure it? Yeah, right, growing up along with the famous Jack Fenton-snoring, clearly built up a kind of immunity to each irritating sounds at nights, but still… But then, he gave up. He couldn’t bear this high sound any more.

Dan murmured a cursing under his nose, phasing through the floor and appeared downstairs. He looked around checking the surroundings if there was anyone nearby, or if Danny was secretly having a snack in the unlighted kitchen, but then as only the darkness was present, with no one around, he dropped invisibility. For a slight moment, he was waiting for anything to happen, but as nothing moved, he determined to aim for the damn phone, but- an eerie feeling that something was wrong slowly was crawling in the back of his mind, realising just now, here, now, everything was quiet, in almost dead silence.

“In fine!” he snapped, lifting his arms to the air, fumingly and shook his head unbelievably, then he turned around to fly back, but as he showed his back to the living room, the sound again hit his ear. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me!” Dan exclaimed, taking some harsh steps towards the room, just to stop at the small table, facing the ringing object with a raised up pointy finger. “I don’t care if Danny would be blamed for it, or anyone, I’m gonna destroy you, you piece of shit. You're gonna be wasted to the smallest atoms, and even! I’m gonna destroy those atoms too!” he threatened the landline, even if it sounded just as ridiculous in his mind as it must have seemed from outside.

He grabbed the phone suddenly from the table, holding it for a second, and then- he pulled out the line that connected it to the electricity, putting it down to its place with a quick movement. “Now, shut it!” he said then, starting a long staring contest with it, but then- the obvious winner nodded approvingly. “Just as I thought.” Dan declared his victory, and turned around, leaving the loser behind with its rather miserable fate.

He took a step ahead, deciding to go back to Jazz’s room, to his current hiding place and not thinking about this, at all, that after everything, literally after everything, a small object could annoy him more than anything else, more than any pathetic ghosts that he had met with in the past ten years, or even earlier when- but then, it rang.

Dan stopped at the spot by the noise like he would have been literally got petrified. “ What? ” he breathed out without any sound, not even realising his eyes widened in confusion and… fear. How that- it just couldn’t be, but- and then he managed to put it together, he saw it. It wasn’t the phone that was ringing now or either earlier. Yeah, it was, but- not this phone, not this phone here…

He pinched the bridge of his nose, moaning but then turned back and sat down with crossed legs on the floor, facing the unconnected landline, giving up to fight against the unavoidable.

“All right then, you’re not gonna let me alone, am I right?” he took the rhetorical question, letting out a deep resigned sigh, and took in his hand the receiver...

---

“ I know it’s you!” he barked into the phone as he, in fine, answered it. It had been ringing constantly, echoing within the empty walls, getting on his nerves in the past days. “Leave me alone!” he shouted, slamming it down, but he was too angry to hit the base of it, missing it and by that, he caught the man’s voice from the other side.

“Daniel!”

“Why can’t you just give up?!” he shut it to the desk, again and again, until it got completely destroyed. He even couldn’t tell why he hadn’t got it into pieces after the first fifty calls – or after the first few times when he had got sure it had been only the man calling him again and again, not letting it go.

Now, it was destroyed, completely wasted, and… he was just gazing at it, expecting to hear the ringing again, but nothing happened. And then, he let out a deep eased breath.

“In fine.” he whispered, and then… there was just quietness. And it remained like that. He closed his eyes to enjoy it. After that, there was now, just silence, nothing else, calmness, and… it made an almost eerie feeling like when- but no, either that time hadn’t been complete stillness. He had heard the quiet sobs, the wind blowing and… always something had made a bit of noise, but now… well, now, he expected to hear the ringing echoing from the walls or in his ears, after all, that had been constant since that, and the man had either given up trying to reach him.

He wasn’t sure for how long he was sitting there, with crossed legs, for how long he was consumed by the dead silence, got sucked by it like it had been a black hole, and he would have been the smallest atom in the universe, unable to do anything against the endless nothingness, but then- he stood up and walked to the lab, avoiding to look around in the room, only aiming for one particular box where he remembered the specialised Fenton Phone was kept.

It wasn’t yet modified to a ghost connected purpose (and either it wasn't an option any more for anything to be modified), it was just working as a simple landline if the person could connect the wires precisely. And luckily it wasn’t that complicated. It took a few minutes to make it work like the previous phone, but then he grabbed it, placing it on the small desk and changing the destroyed one with it.

For a second he was just looking at it, but after that, before he could have changed his mind, or before he could have realised what he was doing, he dialed. It might have surprised him how he had known the man’s number, but he had to admit he had seen it as much on the small screen that it must have burned into his subconscious, just to remember it now with ease. And even his far relatives hadn’t called him that much to memorize their numbers…

“ Sorry.” he whispered in a low voice, without even waiting for the other to tell anything, as soon as it clicked noting the man answered the phone. For a moment there was just surprised silence, but then a deep breath was heard, only by that he recognised, he was the one calling the man, not the other way or answering in fine for the calls.

“No, it’s… I am sorry.” the other said. “I shouldn’t- I really shouldn’t have called you that many times, that's just insane, I just...“ the voice paused suddenly but then continued. “I just wanted to apologise for not being there. I couldn’t- I couldn’t be there. And I know you think because of her and…" for a second the line remained quiet, he wasn't sure the man would finish the sentence at the end. He hoped the other was on to it because he couldn't say anything, or know what to say, but then, luckily the man spoke again, breaking the short silence. "I should have been there, I know. At the- at the funeral." he heard as the word got almost choked. "I just- I think I just couldn’t. I hope you can forgive me, Daniel.” the tone was very low now, it almost begged him.

He gazed at the floor, unsure what to say, running his fingers absently on his thigh, just to do something meanwhile, just to do something ... For a very long minute, no one said anything, but then the man was speaking again.

“I know it must be hard, and I know it must be not a bit odd hearing that from me, but- if you need anything, with anything I can help, or simply just... I don’t know-“ the thought couldn’t be finished, he immediately slurred it out, without even realising he was saying aloud his inner thoughts:

“I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to- I can’t disappear. If I disappear, they’d search for me twice as much and- and they want to talk, everyone is just always talking and- and I don't want to talk, I don't want to see their faces, those faces and- they are always coming, I don't want them to come, I don't want to-“ he shut his mouth keeping the rest rather unvoiced, and only finishing it mentally. 'Seeing them cry, comforting me and seeing them behave naturally while I- I couldn't do that.'

They all thought he was sad, devastated, so they always hugged him and touched him and everything, that they thought was helping, but- it wasn’t that, it was just about that-

"It's empty." he said then, describing rather by that how he was feeling himself, if that was a feeling at all, but he knew the man was thinking he meant the place under the note. He just wanted to be out of here, out of everything, out of this- situation. Or just be normal, like everyone else, just as even the man's voice was hollow, almost broken, even him could feel. But sure, why couldn't he? She was one of them.

The man without any hesitation, described. “I can be there within a few hours, even quicker if I fly. Wait- no. I can be there within an hour, yes, I can be there within an hour. Is it-?”

“Wait. No!” he stopped him, by that, there was a sudden pause at the line. He knew the man was waiting for him, letting him time to express the reason for the abrupt interruption. He looked around, but then he closed his eyes, mumbling under his nose explaining. “I don’t want to be here.”

There was then just silence, it seemed as the other was thinking, but then there was a breath, an almost resigning one. "I... I'll send you a car then, all right? I'll- I'll prepare for you a room here. Is it- is it good for you to- to stay here for a while or to come here?" the man inquired, hesitating. "I mean, it's... it's only a temporary solution, but- till we figure out what to do then, all right? I... You can pack as many things as you want to, or as less as you want, I won't push you or anything. I just... if you don't want to talk, we don't need to talk at all, I'll be out of your sight, if- if it is working for you, coming here. I mean it's..." the voice trailed off, but then added with a much steadier tone. "I'd be glad though, you, being here..." it wasn't finished, there was clearly a 'but', hanging in the air.

He knew what the man was meant how it must have felt for him, this offer and even, he was thinking about it too, and... but- strictly speaking, he didn't care if that was about that, he didn't care about it, not in the least. And for once, he would get right of it, get rid of this damn situation, being out of it. And all things considered, the man was (or had been?) his enemy, just because she had- that didn't mean anything, right? And to tell the truth, he didn't care about if that was about the same damn thing, getting him. The man wouldn't pester him and... that was what he wanted, someone not caring with him and... he needed someone who was not caring with him, checking on him constantly, expecting things from him and... and for sure? Hardly it was about him, about his current miserable state, it was still about getting him, right?

"Daniel?" came the question and by that, he realised he wasn't saying anything for a long time. "Is it- is it working for you? I can figure out something else if it's not..."

He shook his head. "No, it's- it's okay." he knew his voice was barely a whisper this time.

"All right then. I'll see you soon. Until then..." he was holding the phone in his hand to end the call, when he caught the man saying the last words. "hold on little badger, all right? Everything will be fine." and then, he closed the line.

---

"Liar." Dan breathed out, gazing at the phone, blankly. He was aware it wasn’t that one, but still…

His jaw tightened, raising his hand to destroy the damn landline with an ectoblast not caring that he basically was supposed to hold back his energy, but then- he lowered his arm, realising he could still recall the number.

For a long minute, he was just staring at the object again, and after that, he suddenly grabbed the phone, fingers on to dial, just to hear that voice again like- just as everything was before, before everything, but then- then he paused and just pulled back his hand, dropping it into his lap.

“No, he is not him. ” Dan reminded himself, and just by that, he felt as if a thousand tones would have been on his shoulder, imagining- imagining what would happen if once he got there, knowing it would happen no matter what. Within a few days, it would happen. He didn’t feel himself ready for that meeting, seeing the man, like- like nothing would have happened, like-

He shook his hand, recognising he wouldn’t be ever ready for that, but- he had no other choice and… on the weekend, just as Jazz had asked him to go that time, within the next few days, they would go there and then- he had to face him…

Dan stood up, feeling an urge to get an aspirin or something that could make this growing headache gone, ending somehow this damn stirring in his mind, but he knew well, for him it was not an option. That was human and- he unconsciously rubbed his chest feeling that sharp pain again, and under the movement the- he gazed at his hand, wondering for a second, but then let out a growl. No, he was just making up things.

“I fucking hate this place.” he commented, turning back to invisible and floating back to Jazz’s room, trying to occupy himself with something instead. He couldn’t tell with what exactly, but he had to find something (above that damn questionnaire or to read one of Jazz's psychology books, because no, he wouldn’t be that desperate to use those as a distraction).

If he had to count sheep the whole night or gazing at the ceiling, he would do it – sounded way better anyway than any other options he had. But then, he realised, just a little peek at that paper wouldn’t hurt, just to be aware of how ridiculous questions Jazz had come up with. Not that he would answer those, just ‘for fun’, and now, he needed something like a diversion before he abruptly would make a decision and walk there to escape from everything else. How long that would take? – he was wondering for a moment. One, maybe two days tops, even less if he hitchhiked. For that note, the idea got a strong no.

“No, not again.” he declared, moving his hand in the air to emphasize the decision and then he got out rather that damn paper from the upper drawer of the desk. Staying here, bearing with everything in this ‘familiar’ place and using Jazz as a taxi service then sounded much better than dealing with any other annoying humans who just didn’t have the ability to shut up. To close that internal debate, he got a pen too and sat back with the questionnaire to his sleeping spot, preparing himself mentally for the obviously dullest questions his ‘sister’ could come up regarding him or the future.

And on the other hand, in fine, there was just silence within the walls, accompanied by snorings from each room, and even a soft one, from a few feet away from him too. Dan for a moment cracked a smile on the recognition, and to the idea to mention to Jazz in the morning that against her hopes she inherited the 'snoring' too, but then he took a look at the handwritten questions. Getting to know how she was feeling about him, being here, sounded better than trying to sleep or dealing with an other pleasant memory, especially with the ones that involved him too. And, well… today, he had far enough with these damn memories anyway.

[loudlooks]

And They Were Quarantined

Prompt two from way back in March or April. At least I think this was a prompt? The original idea was angsty, but I barely managed to write this drivel, so the angst idea would’ve been even worse. Had fun writing the draft, kinda gave up on editing... Also, I stole a bunch of dialogue from my other OTP.

As always, avoiding post s10 canon like the plague, so, I don’t know late s10 if it was set in 2020?

Also on FF and AO3

Word count: 809

“McCovid, you’re alive!” Tony’s jaw tensed as his paler than usual co-worker appeared on the screen, exhaustion and misery written all over his face. “How are you? Does Delilah have one of those nurse’s outfits, bet that would get you back to health in no time. Feel free to send me a picture, of Delilah, not you,” he rambled. Shifting slightly, he continued to fake a smile and a lightness he did not feel.

McGee attempted to roll his eyes and coughed briefly. “We’re fine.”

“Yeah, I can tell, there’s like half an inch of color on your left cheek. Definitely looking better than last time I saw you, if you hadn’t blinked when you did I’d’ve called Ducky.”

McGee stared at him blankly, a little too blankly. “What do you want?”

“Nothing, just checking in on my quarantined teammates. All of them, don’t think you’re getting special attention for possibly infecting the whole team.”

“You’re going to make me pay for you having to quarantine all by yourself, aren’t you?”

He scoffed, feeling some light-heartedness seeping into the situation. “I am an adult, Tim, I can survive a few weeks by myself, besides-“ The sound of cutlery hitting the floor drew his attention away from the screen. He glared.

“What was that?” McGee said more lively than he had sounded for days.

Tony faced the laptop and raised his eyebrows. “Hmm? Oh, that was.” He glanced away again briefly. “My cat.”

McGee narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have a cat.”

He turned his attention to the kitchen, just in time to see another pair of eyes narrowing at him. “Found her scratching all panicky at the door this morning, looking disheveled, crazy matted hair-“

A wet kitchen towel hit him square in the face. By the time he had placed the towel on the coffee table she had slid onto the couch next to him with the speed and grace of a cat. Her piercing eyes made him forget the gravity of the situation, sending a tingle down his spine.

“Hello, Tim,” she said, sights firmly trained on Tony.

“Ziva? Why are you…” McGee’s voice sounded faint and confused. “You’re not supposed to…” He sighed in defeat, then coughed a few times.

Ziva turned towards the laptop. “Oh, Tony dropped his phone in the bath so we decided to quarantine together.”

McGee blinked slowly, and scrunched up his face. “I…you were taking a bath together?”

She chuckled and held Tony’s gaze again. “Trust me, when I share a bath with someone there is no need for.” She licked her lips as her gaze flicked to his mouth. “Technological distractions.”

“That…what?”

With great effort, Tony turned his attention back to his ill co-worker. At the bewildered look on McGee’s face, he explained, “We were on the phone when I dropped it in the water, Ziva panicked and rushed over here-“

“I did not panic.” She jabbed his chest with a finger. “You started coughing and then the line went dead, I did what any good partner would do.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Break quarantine instead of calling me on my landline?”

She opened and closed her mouth, then glared at him. “I did not panic.”

“I saw your face, Ziva,” he egged her on, as if they hadn’t already had this conversation hours ago.

“When I panic, I make this face.” She stared at him blankly.

The video call all but forgotten, he grinned, pretended she hadn’t looked ready to annihilate Death itself when she had burst through his front door earlier, and deadpanned, “That was the face.”

“You did not see that face,” she insisted, a gleam in her eyes.

“I saw that face.” He smiled warmly, pleased at his 10 AM decision to give in to self-indulgence and soak in the tub while sipping leftover wine. And while choking on the wine when Ziva made him laugh over the phone hadn’t been part of the plan, given the outcome, he’d gladly do it all over again. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he said, “You didn’t bring a hair tie?”

She looked him up and down, a sly smile appearing on her lips. “I didn’t bring anything.”

The laptop’s speaker crackled. “I feel nauseated.”

Tony watched McGee become even paler. “Try eating something, maybe that’ll settle your stomach.”

McGee glared back at him.

“Do you even have any food, other than what we had for lunch?” Ziva glanced towards the kitchen, knowing full well the only thing left in the fridge was alcohol.

“If you end up cannibalizing each other I’m not dealing with the crime scene,”

Tony moved closer to Ziva, ignoring his partner’s comment. “I’m sure I’ll find a way to.” He licked, then bit, his bottom lip. “Satisfy your appetite.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” McGee said, right before the screen went black.

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 3/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (much later in the story)

Content Warnings: Maybe some strong language. There is mention in this chapter of Graham's death, which took place many years prior to the current timeline. Heads up for anyone that needs it. 

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

A/N: This chapter was a lot of fun to re-write, most specifically because of the interactions with the other characters that Emma and Killian have. I had a lot of fun writing Will in this story, and I love the dynamic between Emma and the Charmings. Thanks, as always, for reading and liking and reblogging and leaving comments and generally being amazing. I am so lucky and thankful that you're here reading my story. 

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 3: So it Goes

October 20: Sunday

All weekend, the kiss haunts her.

It was just a kiss, she thinks more than once, eyes glazed over while the television plays something she's already seen a million times.

But there's another voice in there. He's not like the others, it says to her. It sounds suspiciously like Snow. Snow, and her endless hope speeches about love and how Emma builds her walls too high and tries to keep everyone out. With a frustrated grunt, she grabs her phone and dials one of the only landlines left in Storybrooke. She usually only calls when there's something wrong, so she's sure they'll panic when she shows up on their caller ID.

"Emma? Is everything okay?"

"Gimme the Disney Princess," she demands after David speaks. He doesn't say more, doesn't push or question it. Emma can hear the shuffling of him moving from one spot in their farmhouse to go search out his wife.

"She asked for you," David says from a distance.

"Thanks, Charming. Close the door behind you?"

If she wasn't so used to the exchange, she would be rolling her eyes. But instead she waits patiently while they share a quick kiss and she hears David leave the room, the door to Snow's craft and grading room closing with a faraway click.

"What happened?" Snow finally asks, her voice measured without judgement or concern just yet. Emma imagines her in the faint glow of the warm room, with her readers perched on her nose as she decides whether or not her fourth graders accurately spelled each word on the list.

"I kissed him," she says, breaking her own mental image to bring back the reality of her life.

"Kissed who?"

"Killian. Friday after we walked back from the bar. We were joking, and then he teased me, and then I basically mauled him with my mouth."

"Well, Emma, honey, that's great!"

"This is not great," Emma hisses as she gets up from the couch and goes to the kitchen to pour herself some water, suddenly parched and terrified.

"Why not great?" Snow asks. "Is he married or something? Polygamist? Gambling addiction?"

"Not that I know of," Emma mutters. "But the problem is with me. I'm the problem in this equation, Snow."

"You're not."

"I am. There's no way I can let him in, because he'll just end up gone like all the others."

"You don't know that. Won't know it unless you give him a chance and let him prove you wrong."

"Or, alternatively, I'm right and then I don't even have my morning walks to look forward to because they'll always be tainted by the memory of that creep I used to walk with."

"You kissed him and yet he's already the creep that left you high and dry?"

"Why did I call you?"

"Because you know this is your past trying to talk you out of something that could make you happy and I'm your voice of reason. That's why you called me. Can you text him and wish him a goodnight or something? Tell him you'd like to buy him coffee tomorrow?"

"I um… I still don't have his number. So I can't."

"Well, in the morning, when you walk to work with him like I know you do five days a week and wouldn't miss it unless your legs were broken despite the fact that you would never admit it out loud, you will give him a chance. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, mom," Emma mutters.

When she ends the call with Snow, she flops back onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. Tomorrow. Maybe she'll fix this tomorrow. She can be better, right?

The closer she gets to their corner, the higher her anxiety goes. By the time she's approaching Killian, her heart is beating so fast and she's pretty sure she's sweating despite the very chilly temperatures.

He's engrossed with something on his phone, and Emma thinks about that first time she ever saw him walking to the crosswalk. At the very least, her thoughts calm down a little bit so she's not jittering the entire time she approaches him. He glances up, then, the sun peeking through the clouds and hitting his eyes just right as he looks her way.

It's almost like he tries not to smile, maybe remembering the last thirty seconds where she fucked everything up on Friday, but it still comes through - that sweet smile and eyes crinkling. It's almost breathtaking to see that expression aimed at her. She made someone happy like that, no matter what the ultimate outcome of the other night was.

Whatever either of them had in mind for greetings this morning, they both fail at them, tripping over their words and half-aborted hand gestures. When the light changes, they start walking together, with Killian's hand coming up and his fingers just grazing her lower back until he just as suddenly pulls away.

When they get to Granny's they stop, as if they each have something to say but can't spit it out.

"Just… be patient with me?" she finally asks when it's clear both of them are failing at being casual about this.

"I've all the time in the world, love." There's this deep well of understanding in his eyes, and she sort of hates herself a little bit for the way she ended their night out, now.

"Good. Thanks." She reaches out, trying to bridge the gap, but her fingers just graze along his sleeve before she pulls away. "Well, um, have a good day, Jones."

He rubs behind his ear, glancing down at the ground for a moment before looking at her again. "Have a good day, Swan."

She lifts her hand in a wave, hesitantly shifting and then moving up the walkway to get her coffee when he makes no other comment. When she glances back, he's still there, and she sees him sigh before he continues on towards his office.

With a sigh of her own, she enters the diner and tries to push her turmoil to the back of her mind.

-x- October 22: Tuesday

Sometimes, waking up on her birthday is just like every other day. Maybe it's the fact that her birthday is assumed to be October 22 because that's the day she was left in the hospital waiting room, looking freshly born and crying her eyes out. At least, that's what Ruth told her about the day she was found. Ruth was working in the giftshop as a second job, just trying to make ends meet for her family.

They never did find her birth mother, but when it was clear one wasn't showing up, it was Ruth that stepped in and adopted her. Despite the fact that she already had five-year-old twins at home, she took in Emma and raised her as her own. Robert, though he would leave this earth far before she could remember him, was in full support of this idea.

It was mostly nice having brothers around, too. Well, at least one of them. David was protective and chivalrous, kind and generous, and she looked up to him like he really was Prince Charming all while growing up. James, on the other hand, was the opposite. In fact, when James ran away and eloped at 18, it was almost a relief to all of them. He was out of their hair. Emma and David would never admit it to anyone, but they had a bet going on whether or not James would show up for Ruth's funeral. Emma won the bet. He showed, but only so he could find out what was left to him and collect on it before fading away again.

It worked out that he had no interest in the rest of Ruth's estate. That's when David and Snow moved out to the old farmhouse, leaving Emma all by herself in the apartment that they all awkwardly shared for a time. The loft that, after some much needed furniture replacements, quickly became her fortress.

It's where she wakes up on her twenty-eighth birthday, for once not obsessed with smacking her alarm to snooze it or wanting to roll back over and forget the day. She tries to temper her excitement a little bit. She'll be seeing Killian soon, but it's not like he's obligated to remember it's her birthday. She told him on Friday and who knows if he even cared? But the prospect of seeing him is enough to get her moving.

On the subject of seeing someone romantically, Emma's mind isn't made up yet. She hasn't actually dated since Walsh, and that was enough of a disaster - and that word alone is an understatement for the heaping garbage fire that was the end of her relationship with Walsh - that she's not sure how she feels about officially dating again. But as Snow already reminded her, Killian is not the others. He told her she has all the time in the world, so she can only hope he'll be patient as she tries to sort out her feelings.

She wears what she always wears, slipping into one of her favorite pairs of jeans and a sweater. When she checks the temperatures for the day, she opts for the black leather jacket since it actually has a lining and might keep her warm for her walk to work today. She adds a beanie over her hair, pulling it down snugly over her ears.

Emma's heart pangs a little thinking about not sharing her mornings with Killian. Maybe she should just offer him a ride to work. It's not like she would be driving miles out of her way with how small Storybrooke is. She knows he lives closer to the harbor, and what's that? Three extra turns?

Those thoughts follow her out the door, into the chilly quiet of late October.

Killian looks nervous when she sees him. She doesn't know how she can tell from this far away, but there's something in his posture - it's like he's trying too hard to be casual. He checks his watch and then looks in her direction, his expression lighting up when he sees her.

"Good morning, love. Happy birthday," he says in greeting. New to his own outfit is a black leather jacket, and she grins widely at the fact that they're matching.

"Thank you. Like the jacket."

"Same to you," he returns when he notices she's also wearing black.

Before she walks up the path to Granny's to get her coffee, he slows her down with a touch of his hook to her sleeve, easing a card out of the bag slung over his shoulder.

"Don't get excited or nervous. It's not much," he explains. "And don't be alarmed, but I've gotten you two small things."

As she takes it from him, her fingers brush over his and a thrill of contact runs through her. "The fact that you remembered means so much," she tells him. "You didn't have to get me anything."

"No trouble at all, I assure you."

"Well, thank you in advance. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

With one last wave, they part ways and she heads to the welcoming warmth of the diner.

Her coffee is already at the counter waiting when she walks in, and Granny fixes her with one of those looks.

"You got someone sweet on you, Deputy."

"It's possible," she responds. Yeah, with that statement alone Granny is saying that the whole damn town has noticed, but that doesn't mean she needs to explain it to the biggest gossip hound.

Killian is gone when she comes out, but that's okay; the rest of the walk is quick enough and she has a card to open when she gets there.

She expects the bundle of balloons that are tied to her chair. She even expects the cinnamon rolls that look to be still steaming, fresh from Snow's diligent baking. What she doesn't expect, and what David also certainly looks perplexed at, is the small vase of flowers sitting on her desk. It's a varied bunch, with freesia and delphinium mixed together. It's not a big bouquet, by any means, but it's been so long since she got flowers at all that her heart speeds up just a touch.

At least now she understands why he was so nervous this morning.

David recovers from his confusion enough to come give her a hug, wishing her a happy birthday and telling her that dinner will be at six that night.

"So, these are from the guy you're not seeing, then?"

"Mmhmm," she hums out, moving the flowers to the side so she can access her computer. She doesn't say anything else on the matter, instead giving David a look and a smile that clearly says he better drop it.

Emma waits until he's back to work at his own desk before she slips her finger under the fold on the envelope that Killian handed her. It's cardstock, clearly not purchased at the store, and there's a rough sketch of a multi-tiered birthday cake drawn in the center. On top of the cake, there's a small swan. She makes some noise in the back of her throat that she doesn't mean to. But how can she not when this is sitting in her hands?

Inside, his beautiful, looping handwriting has scrawled out a simple message, along with his phone number.

"Here's to metaphorically crossing the street to a new age. -Killian"

It's so simple, but so sweet, and charming, and Killian that she has to physically restrain herself from getting up and marching over to his office immediately. Instead, she pulls out her phone, diligently entering him into her contacts before starting a new message.

"The flowers are beautiful," she sends him, taking a picture of them off to the side of her desk.

"I figured the symbols of friendship and joy would be well-fitted to your birthday. There are no buttercups this time of year, so I did the best I could."

Smiling to herself, she reads the message a few times before setting her phone aside. She props up the card next to her monitor and stretches one more time before diving into the things she wants to accomplish.

Somehow, she manages to concentrate at work without stopping to just sit there and literally smell her flowers. It's a close call a couple times, though. Instead, she slogs through filing paperwork and typing up old reports into the digital system some more. It has to be one of the slowest jobs they've ever done but Storybrooke is hardly bustling. It's just that it took them until 2019 to get the system in place so they have… a lot of files to copy in. Her goal is to finish 1997 by the end of the week, but with her mind preoccupied, she's likely to barely make a dent.

For the last three years, her life has been cut and dry; the phrase "same shit, different day" was pretty much her motto after she got out of the relationship with Walsh. While she never subscribed to the idea of building on specific routines, she was aware of the stagnation that came with nothing new and exciting ever happening. A month ago, she never would've guessed she would be considering asking out the stranger she casually walked with in the mornings. That was as far as their interactions ever got. For the time being, all she can do is be thankful that Killian was late that day so it broke them out of the pattern they were stuck in, even if she doesn't know how to progress from here.

At dinner, the first thing to come up is her relationship status.

"Not you, too, Snow." The other woman flits around the kitchen putting the finishing touches on dinner while Emma sits at the kitchen table with a glass of wine.

"Well, it's just that David sent me a picture of a very beautiful vase of flowers that he said were delivered to the station about ten minutes before you got there." Her friend looks at her then, one slim eyebrow climbing up towards her hairline.

"Yes, and now they're sitting on the island in the loft."

"And these flowers were from Killian?"

"Yes." Emma isn't sure why Snow bothered to ask, since she knows damn well they are from Killian.

"Killian Jones? The one I told you to give a chance and see what happens?"

"Yes, Snow." The exasperation in her voice is evident with the second response. The woman never misses a chance to rub in being right. Ever.

"Okay, just making sure. When will you get to see him again?"

Right as she starts to answer, David walks in, kissing Snow on the side of the head as he starts to move around her as if they'd synchronised this beforehand. They are the height of ridiculous relationships, in Emma's book.

"Tomorrow morning when we cross the street together like we do every morning."

"And outside of those little moments?"

She'd hoped to bring this up at a different time, weigh pros and cons with Snow over the thought of maybe asking Killian on a date, but not when David suddenly looks far too interested in what she has to say in response.

"You know, this whole conversation is one factor in why I haven't dated in so long," Emma spits out. Snow and David both open their mouths to say something, but they both close them in tandem, looking at each other and having a patented Married Couple conversation without words.

"You're right, sweetie. We'll skip the rest of the parental run-down. At least, until after you've finished a glass of wine."

"It's the least we can do," David adds on, smiling and winking at her before he pops the garlic bread into the oven. "Okay. Ten minutes until dinner is ready. Wanna chug that so we can pry into your relationship a little bit more?"

She nearly chokes on her drink when he says it, but it has the intended effect of making her laugh so she'll take it.

After they've eaten and cleared the table together, David leaves them to talk while he heads to the basement to finish his latest project.

When he's not busy doing sheriff duties or volunteering at the animal shelter, he builds birdhouses. It started with making one for Snow to post outside her classroom window back when they were first dating. He ended up making one for the tree outside Granny's diner because the wind kept knocking the nests down. After seeing that one, Belle asked if he could make her one, which he made to look like a stack of books. Eventually, Snow forced him to start putting them on Etsy because he wasn't paid for any of the thirty that are now scattered around the limits of Storybrooke.

With him in his workshop, Snow ushers them into the den with steaming mugs of hot cocoa, letting Emma sit in silence and mull over hers for a few moments before she starts to prod.

"What's going through that head of yours?" Snow asks, sensing her need to talk about it.

"I just don't know if I'm ready to date," Emma admits.

"Remind me how long you were with Neal?"

"Seven months," Emma grumbles. She wouldn't put out until she turned eighteen, which meant from June until October, the most she would do was kiss him. He somehow thought that if they ran away to Tallahassee together that she would magically change her mind about her virginity.

But nope, Emma stuck strong on that, and in October she finally let him touch her breasts. That was apparently enough for him to stick around another three months until they had sex for the first time. Then, of course, the idiotic non-pregnancy scare happened, and she was left alone in Florida with a sub-par waitressing job and learning how to chase bail skips from a woman named Cleo that saw her chase down a guy that tried to dine and ditch on her.

It took her three years to get back to Storybrooke but only because David figured out something was funky and flew down to Tallahassee to see her. As soon as he realized how unhappy she was, he was helping her ship her few belongings back to Storybrooke and buying them two plane tickets home.

"Okay. Seven months with him. That's not really a strong enough amount of time to decide if you're even in love with someone, let alone someone who's trying to manipulate you," Snow tells her.

And she knows. Because she's been through the debate on whether or not she even loved Neal. She knows for a fact that he never really loved her despite him saying so a couple times.

"And Graham?"

That one hurts.

When she came back to Storybrooke, there was a new deputy in town. His name was Graham, he was Irish, adorable as sin, and immediately had a crush on her. His twenty-five to her twenty-one was better than the age difference between her and Neal, so she gave in to the relationship a little easier than she thought she would.

"We were only together for three months," Emma admits, lost in her thoughts of that accent and his soulful eyes. He admitted he was falling in love with her after a couple dates. Since she was still a bit burned from the whole Neal situation, she told him she would return the words when she was ready, and he was perfectly fine with that.

"Don't blame yourself," Snow's words break through the fog of memories.

"It's gotten a little easier not to," Emma responds with a tight smile. She sips from the drink in her hand but barely tastes it. "I didn't know CPR back then, didn't know he had a heart condition."

"To be fair, neither did he."

"You can't know that for sure."

"Emma, I saw all his medical records after… When we sent them back to his parents. According to everything he had on file, he was completely healthy. No arrhythmia mentioned, nothing. He had no clue he was going to…" Snow trails off there.

"That he was going to leave me behind?"

"I think that man would've done anything in the world to stay with you, especially knowing your history," Snow says, reaching over and giving her free hand a squeeze. "The whole town knew he was in love with you. If he knew anything about what was coming, I don't think he'd have asked you out at all."

They keep skirting around it, but the fact of the matter is that Graham died in her arms. She'd gone to the station to visit him while he was on the late shift and while he was kissing her, he collapsed. He was working alone that night, so there was no one to help. Once again, David came to her rescue.

But it was too late. By the time the paramedics showed up, Graham was already gone, and at a young age, Emma had lost two people she thought she loved in two very different ways.

"You're probably right," Emma finally says.

"Would you have gone out with him if you knew how it was going to end?"

"Him? Yeah, maybe. Walsh?" Emma makes a noise of disgust in the back of her throat. "Absolutely not."

"Walsh was a type of scum that no one could've predicted," Snow admits, a look crossing her face that says it all.

There are no less than three people in Storybrooke who have all claimed rights to punch him in the face if he ever shows up in town again.

"Let's not dredge up that one again," Emma finally says. "It's my birthday and I'll ignore any topic I want to."

"Of course. All I was trying to point out is that your past relationships have never defined who you are. And they've been so short that it's really hard for love to dig its heels in on you yet. You've even had a couple years since Disaster Boy and I know you must be scared to try again, but let's look at some quick facts."

Emma sincerely wonders when Snow crafted her pros and cons list, because this all sounds way too practiced to be off the top of her head.

"Go for it," she sighs out, just wanting to get it over with.

"Killian has lived here since June. You know as well as I do that it created a nice little bubble of excitement that someone new was moving in. And in that amount of time, how many women has he dated?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. Because we would all know the second he took out anyone in town."

"What about those rumors from the bar?"

"What, that he flirts with women?" She tilts her chin down when she says it, leveling Emma with a look she knows all too well to be her Mom Look. "You flirt with everyone in town at least once a week. You can't hold that against him."

"I do not flirt with everyone," Emma defends. Still, she pauses as she thinks about it for a second. "I would never flirt with Will or Victor.

Snow snorts at that, raising her own mug in agreement.

"So what are you going to do?" Snow asks after they've been silent for a few minutes.

"I don't know. I asked him to be patient with me yesterday morning. He had every right to skip past my birthday but still went out and did these little things for me."

"Take your time with it. He'll wait. I can already tell he'd wait a long time if you just gave him a chance. And it can lead to something really great if you just open that door for him."

After their mugs are empty and Emma helps clean up the kitchen, she heads to the basement to give her brother a hug before she leaves for the night.

"Happy birthday again, kiddo."

"Pretty sure we're far beyond 'kiddo' years here, David. But thank you. I'll see you tomorrow," she says, squeezing him tight and heading upstairs to give the same farewell to Snow.

When she gets in her car, she pulls out her phone again, fidgeting as she considers texting Killian. After a few seconds of weighing it, she finally taps out a quick message and hits send before she can change her mind. She locks her phone and puts it back in her pocket for the drive home.

She's just unlocking her door when his response comes through, and she smiles when she reads it. Just a simple "You're welcome, Swan." to her text of thanks and a smiley face after the message.

For once, it's a birthday that she doesn't mind remembering.

-x-

Chapter 4