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#five days of izzy hands strikes back
carelessflower · 2 years
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a purrfect gift
mentions of lingerie and crossdressing, not very nsfw but still beware
Eyeing the package with the intensity that usually came from a level three demon activity report, Alec wondered if he could pull this off. 
"I can," Alec whispered to himself. "The worse happening is Magnus having a good laugh over this." And his husband was nothing but kind, and even to the people who didn't deserve it, he wouldn't make fun of Alec for trying something new. 
So fuck it.
In the safety of their bedroom, Alec stripped down to nothing and began his plan. The panties went first, a simple cotton affair with small lace detail at the side, the material sliding smoothly over his skin. Next was the garter belt, thin lacy strap and two stockings, the same color as his underwear. Easy.
Checking himself in the mirror, Alec could admit- he looked good. His legs seemed longer, the belt accentuated his waist, and the color complimented his pale complexion well. It was nowhere near as obscene and striking as when Magnus was wearing something similar, but Alec had long since accepted his husband could make a trashcan look good.
Now to the fun part.
Alec picked up the remaining piece, slipping on the garment. He adjusted the cuff sleeves, tied the white apron on before gathering the headband in his hands. 
He stared at the culprit of all of this. Last week, one of Max's magical sneezes had granted Alec an extra pair of ears, cat ears to be more precise.
The spell went off just in time for Alec to catch Magnus's eyes, and see the interest and hidden hint of desire there. Dozen few searches and an embarrassing conversation with Izzy later and Alec was here, holding cat ears headband in his hand.
Alec smiled fondly, he wouldn't trade a thing about his life.
Quickly settling the headband over his hair, Alec took a step back to view himself again. Satisfied, he pulled out his phone to check the notification.
A new text from Magnus popped up.
miss u so much darling, u better get ready once i'm done i have some great plans for us <333
Alec walked over to the bed, the side facing the mirror. His photo-taking skills had definitely improved over the year, Alec's phone gallery overflew from pics of his family and friends. Sadly, he couldn't claim the same thing for his selfie.
After several failed poses, he finally decided on one decent photo. His legs spread apart, the cat ears stood out in the frame, one stocking-covered leg just barely in view. His hand rested above his lap, the rising skirt hem got pulled down slightly.
To send or not to send. Alec's finger hovered over the keyboard on his phone, courage a dangerous whisper in his ear.
Well, there's no time like today.
Miss you too. Hope your plan won't interfere with mine though. He typed out, and sent the picture. 
Nerves wrecked through Alec's body, and he waited.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
Fifteen minutes.
Twenty minutes. Magnus still hadn't replied. Alec considered dumping his phone and moving to Alaska.
Maybe Magnus didn't get the picture yet, maybe he did and was having a field day, and it's okay, Alec had expected this, Alec had- seen a portal materializing out of nowhere in the bedroom, bringing along his husband.
"You." Magnus immediately pounced on him, both falling onto the bed below. "You have any idea what you did right there?" Magnus didn't bother to glamour his marks, cat eyes narrowed down at Alec.
"Why don't you show me?" Alec smirked, pulling his husband down for a kiss, one into the long night.
for @malectober day 17 prompt cat
inspo for alec's photo
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jobrookekarev · 2 years
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Chapter Two: To Nana’s House We Go
Chapter: Two of Five
Words: 5342
Summary: Alex and Jo along with Luna, Alexis, Eli, and Izzie travel to Iowa to spend Christmas with Helen Karev. However, the trip isn’t as easy as expected.
Chapter Summary: The day of their fight to Nana’s finally arrives, however the plane ride isn't as quiet as they thought it would be as disaster strikes.
Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.
Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.
Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson, Izzie Stevens, Alexis Stevens, Eli Stevens, and Luna Wilson.
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences.
Additional Tags: Jolex are friends and co-parent with Izzie, Christmas, Travel, Flights, Airplanes, Sick!Fic, Kids, Toddlers, Family Fluff, To Grandmother's House We Go!
Read at AO3
Read at FFN
AN: So I decided to change this and have it be a Christmas story instead, as it’s December. I hope you enjoy it just as much!
……………………………………………………………………
The day of their flights finally came the weekend before Christmas. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon and they were all as prepared as they could be. Izzie had made sure of that as she had them on a strict schedule. Jo did her best to keep up with things as well, although Alex nearly forgot his bag at home. They were unloading the car in the parking lot and Jo had Luna on her hip as Alex got the stroller set up. They had opted for a double stroller in case the twins got tired, but for now, Alexis and Eli hung out next to Jo as Izzie got the last of the bags. 
"Okay," Izzie said, staring at the twins as she pulled her bag over her shoulder. "So we’re going to walk into the airport, then go to the desk, get our tickets, and give them our bags. Then we’ll go through security where you will need to walk through alone. It's going to be a long line and you guys have to either sit in the stroller with Luna, hold one of our hands, or have your hands on the stroller. You can let go as soon as we sit down in the lounge. But it's very important that you guys do not wander off. It's a big airport with lots of people."
"Because if you do, you will get lost or kidnapped," Alex added, raising his eyebrows at them.
"I'll be good," Eli said, immediately going to hold on to the stroller with a white knuckled grip. "I don't want to get kidnapped."
"Me neither," Alexis said, jumping to hang onto the stroller. "Who would feed me?"
"Alex!" Jo quickly scolded him with a look as she leaned down to put Luna in the stroller. "We're not trying to scare them."
"I'm just trying to help them understand how serious this is," Alex said with a shrug, despite how Izzie and Jo glared at him. 
"You won’t get kidnapped if you let go of the stroller or our hands, we just want you two to stay close to us," Izzie explained as she knelt down and put a hand on each of their shoulders. 
"Right Alex," Jo added, looking over at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah," Alex said with a nod. "Sorry guys, I didn’t mean to scare you."
Jo just shook her head as she finished putting Luna into the stroller. "Alright, are we ready?"
"I think so," Izzle said, looking around as they locked the car. "We've got the twin’s boosters, Luna's car seat, the stroller, three backpacks, your purse, my purse, four suitcases, the extra activity packs, Alex's bag, and Alex should have the tickets."
"Go to Nana’s now!" Luna said excitedly as she looked up at them to confirm.
"Yep, we’re gonna go get on the plane and go to Nana’s house!" Eli said just as excited as she was.
"Yay!" Luna shouted, throwing her arms up in a cheer.
"Alex, do you have the tickets?" Jo asked looking back at him.
"Of course, I have the tickets," Alex said, holding up his phone. He didn’t know why they didn’t trust him with this.
"Seriously, Alex? I told you to print them out," Izzie said, exasperated as she glared at him again.
"No one prints out tickets anymore," Alex said with a dismissal wave. "It'll be fine."
"It's good to have things on paper, in case something goes wrong," Izzie said as Alex rolled his eyes and Izzie sent him a glare.
"I'm sure it'll be fine," Jo said, pushing the stroller and leading them into the airport. The twins walked with her and Alex and Izzie followed along as the six of them went into the airport.
There was minimal fussing from the three kiddos as they waited in line and walked through security. Sea-tac Airport was a little more busier than usual and they ended up having to wait for an hour in the security line. Izzie and Alex grumbled about it, but Jo and the kids played a couple of games, eventually getting them all to play, which helped pass the time. 
Luna was a little scared about the metal detector on her own. Although the second Alex held up a baggie of fishy crackers, she walked through and immediately grabbed the snack from his hand with sticky toddler fingers. Finally, they were through security and put on their shoes again. Alex grabbed the twin’s backpack from the conveyor belt and helped Eli put his shoes on. Alexis and Izzie were prompt as always. They had already put on their shoes and grabbed their bags and were waiting for the rest of them. Jo slipped Luna back into the stroller as she happily snacked on her fishy crackers. She made sure to strap Luna in, lest she slip out and escape into the airport. 
"Alright, who wants McDonald's for lunch?" Alex said, knowing that the fast food place was just down the hall before their gate. 
"Me, me," the twins eagerly raised their hands and Luna gleefully agreed with a shout and a laugh.
"We should get to the gate first and check in and then you can go back for food," Izzie said, putting her purse on her shoulder.
"But it's on the way there?" Alex said with a shrug
"Then it'll be easy to go back," Izzie said, with a smile.
"It'll be much faster," Alexis argued standing up next to Alex.
"See," Alex said, pointing at her as if an 8-year-old could possibly overpower her mother. 
Izzie just gave him a look as she regretfully shook her head. Alex glared at her and opened his mouth to say something but Jo stepped up and put a hand on his chest. 
"Okay enough you two have been making jabs at each other since this morning, and I'm done with it," Jo looked between the two of them before she looked back at him. "We've all been waiting in line for an hour. I'm tired from standing so let's just get to the gate so we can sit down and then we'll go get food. Besides, do you really want to take all three kids to McDonald's?"
Jo said the last sentence in a bit of a whisper to him as they looked over at the kids. 
"Probably not," Alex said, scratching his head as he thought about it, before turning to Alexis. "You can come with me on the way back, okay."
"Okay," Alexis said, dragging her feet as if she was headed to the dentist. 
Jo steered the stroller and walked away. With the twins holding onto the sides of the stroller next to her, she again led the way over to the gate. Alex and Izzie exchanged a look as they shook their heads. They didn't always see eye-to-eye on things, but Jo always called them out on their bullshit when they fought. She blanched them out and was the tie-breaking vote in almost everything. 
Although, just because she was married to him, didn’t mean she always sided with Alex, such as in this instance. However, he liked to think that he had a little more sway on her and often tried to butter her up, but after nearly 10 years together she was immune to his sexual persuasion. Something that was extremely disappointing to him. Yet, there were still times when she came to him begging for it, and that always helped his ego.
They all walked over to the gate and looked around for a place to sit. Jo of course spotted a few seats for all of them and walked over to sit down as she parked the stroller in front of her. She yawned the second she sat down and Luna followed suit. Jo leaned back into the chair as Izzie sat down next to her. While Alex and the twins stood next to them. 
Alex smiled at Jo as he put a hand on Luna's head and brushed away the little hairs on her head. "Are you two tired?"
"Well it's almost naptime," Jo said looking at her watch. "But I’m gonna try and keep her awake so she can just sleep on the plane."
"Sounds like a plan," Alex said, with a nod as Jo yawned again and Luna did too. Jo had all gotten up extra early that morning, having claimed it was nervousness at flying with the kids for the first time, but regardless he knew both of his girls were tired. 
Still, it was 12:34 and Luna usually went down at about 12:30. Luna was the type of kid who got extra cuddly when she was overly tired. Although she did get a bit fussy. They were usually able to delay her naps by about half an hour without her dissolving into a full tantrum due to tiredness.
"I'll stay with these two you and Alexis can go with you to McDonald's. Eli, do you want to go with your Dad or stay with your Mama Jo and me?" Izzie asked, looking over at him. 
"I want to go to McDonald's with Daddy, but can I leave my backpack here?" Eli asked, taking off his backpack and letting it fall to the floor.
"Of course, but can you put it in the stroller, please," Izzie said pointing to the storage under the stroller as Eli picked up his bag and put it away.
"Alright, let's go," Alex said, taking their hands as the three of them walked over to McDonald's.
They got three Happy meals, a chicken nuggets meal for Jo, and a burger meal for himself, with an extra pack of applesauce that Izzie would undoubtedly eat. They then stopped by one of the many coffee stands and grabbed three coffees and three hot chocolates along with three bagels and two cake pops. Alex decided against getting a cake pop for Luna as he didn't want to get her all hopped up on sugar before her nap. 
As the three of them wandered back to the gate, the twins were already dipping into their french fries and so was Alex. Jo and Izzie easily accepted the coffees with a thanks and Luna practically leaned out of her stroller trying to get her happy meal. Jo and Luna shared their chicken nuggets, both a little too sleepy to really eat. The twins, however, gobbled up their food and before long all food was gone. 
After eating, they didn't have to wait long before boarding the plane. Since they had kids, they had splurged on getting priority boarding and were able to be part of the group that got on first. Izzie, Eli, and Alexis were in one row and Jo, Luna, and Alex were in the row across from them. Although Luna could technically be a lap child, they had bought her the seat between them so she could nap in the seat without them having to hold her. Jo had even bought this special suitcase that turned the airplane seat into a full toddler bed. They had also gotten a row closer to the front to make it easy to board and deboard. Also to have close access to the bathroom for Jo's bladder, which seemed to have shrunk in the last couple of days.
As they waited for their fellow passengers to board, Izzie set up a movie on the tablet for the twins. They had decided to forego their usual limit of TV time today in favor of having an easy journey with the kids. Luna curled up in Jo's arms as they read a few books to her, although she quickly fell asleep in her Mom's arms. Jo had sat next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her and it seemed like she would fall asleep as well.
Soon enough, the flight attendants were telling them to get ready for takeoff. It seemed to take forever for them to finally get down the runway and take off. As they ascended, Jo put a hand on her head before trailing it down to her forehead and then quickly moving to press her fingers over her lips. 
"Are you okay?" Alex asked, looking at her as her eyes glazed over and she seemed unfocused and unusually pale.
She took her hand away from her lips and gave him a small smile. "I'm just not used to the sudden incline and the force of the takeoff."
He quickly grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze as Jo just nodded. Although her paleness still concerned him. As the plane leveled out in the sky, the color returned to Jo's cheeks in a light pink. Alex leaned over and gave her head a kiss as she leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Luna had slept through takeoff and he wondered if Jo and Luna would sleep most of the flight. He then looked over at Eli and Alexis who were completely absorbed in their movie and Izzie who was reading a book. 
"Well I think this should be a pretty easy flight," Alex whispered with a smile looking down at Jo.
And then Eli threw up.
It happened the second Alex's words left his lips. Eli leaned forward trying to get up although he only managed to lean over into the aisle before he threw up on the floor. The horrible putrid smell of vomit immediately filled the air as Eli just sat there before promptly bursting into tears. Izzie rushed to console him and Alex immediately reached up and rang the bell as Jo sat up and startled Luna who immediately started crying.
"Oh baby, it's all right," Izzie said as she smoothed back Eli's hair and tried to pick him up while getting out to the aisle.
"Mommy, I don't feel good," Alexis said, looking pale and green as she held her stomach. 
"She's going to puke," Alex yelled as Izzie quickly set Eli down before she quickly grabbed the vomit bag from the plane seat pocket and thrust it under Alexis's chin just as she puked into the bag. 
"Oh God it smells horrible," Jo said, putting her hand over her mouth.
Alex got up and picked up Eli, who clung to him. Luna stopped crying, but then he heard the telltale signs of her throwing up as well. He sighed as he looked back to see that Luna had painted half of the seat and the floor with vomit. As if to make matters worse Jo looked just as green as she did and quickly scrambled to get a bag before she also vomited in it.
"You've jinxed us!" Izzie said as she glared at him, picking up Alexis as now Jo and all three kids were sick and crying. Alex just took his head as the flight attendants approached them.
"I'm so sorry, my wife and all of my kids are sick, and the kids puked on the floor and the seats," Alex explained as he tried to settle Eli against his shoulder by gently swaying and rubbing his back, hoping it would soothe him.
"Let's get you all to the bathrooms and we’ll clean it up," the flight attendant, Janet said as she led the way. 
They all got settled in the bathrooms, with Alexis, Eli, and Izzie in one bathroom and Jo in the other while Alex held Luna. It seemed as if she was just a one and done vomit kid. Given how much vomit was across the seats. figured it was the entire contents of her stomach. Still, she continued to cry and Alex tried in vain to get her to go to sleep or at least calm down. So far, he and Izzie didn't seem to be affected by whatever Jo and the kids had. Which was good for now, but probably meant that they would be sick later.
Then he helped the flight attendants clean up the seats, which was not an easy task given just how much puke there was. Being a doctor, Alex had cleaned up puke many times. Arizona used to make him go around and take care of the puking kids as punishment when he was an intern. As such, he learned how to clean it up quickly and without letting the smell get to him. 
After cleaning up, he had to wait for the sanitizer to dry so he paced up and down the rows. He desperately tried to get Luna to calm down while all the passengers glared at him. He didn't blame them, the plane smelled of vomit and Luna was screaming. It was an incessant wail that was quickly getting overestimated even for him.
He decided to check on everyone and see if Luna would calm down for Jo. But first, he carried Luna, who was still crying, to where Izzie and Alexis were camped out in one bathroom. When he got there there was a tall and menacing man begging on the door. His hair was short and balding and he wore one of those awful Hawaiian shirts, even though their destination was Des Moines Iowa.
"You can't just monopolize both bathrooms. Other people use the goddamn bathroom," he insisted as Alex quickly grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.
"Hey, all four of my kids and my wife are sick. We didn't mean to monopolize both bathrooms, it just happened. I get that you need to take a piss but you don't have to be such an ass about it!" Alex yelled and the man jumped back in surprise.
"Well, you didn't have to bring three sick kids on a flight, especially a screaming baby."
"We didn't know this would happen and kids are allowed to fly."
"Yeah, well they shouldn't be."
Alex just glared as he pointed down the aisle. "Just go sit down."
The man thankfully left and Alex knocked on the bathroom door again as soon as the guy had gone back to his seat. "Izzie, it's me, how are you and the twins doing?"
Izzie opened the door revealing both of the twins still sitting near the toilet and looking miserable. "I think we're doing okay. How’s Jo doing? I’m guessing Luna’s not feeling too good." 
She gave Luna, who was still wailing a sad smile as she rubbed her back. To his surprise, Luna’s wails stopped for a moment as she turned around to look at Izzie. "Mama Ezzie?" 
"Hi baby, I’m sorry you’re not feeling good," Izzie said gently, brushing her fingers through Luna's hair just as she knew Luna liked.
Alex loved the sweet little bond between the two of them. Izzie had grown to love and accept Luna in the same way that Jo loved the twins. Luna called her Mama Ezzie, fumbling over her name a little bit, in the same way that the twins called Jo, Mama Jo. They were a completely blended family. Even though it wasn't necessary, Izzie often Luna on the days she had the twin. Although usually just for the day and occasionally overnight. It allowed Jo and Alex to have some time to themselves and they were always grateful for it. 
"Do you want me to hold you, Luna?" Izzie asked as she held out her arms to Luna, offering to hold her. 
"I wan' Mama!" Luna demanded Jo, she turned back and buried her face in Alex’s shoulder as she started to cry again.
"I’m gonna go see if Jo can take her for a minute," Alex said as Izzie nodded, giving him a look of sympathy.
"Daddy?" Alexis asked in a little voice that they almost didn't hear Luna's cry. They turned around to look at her as she got up and came over to him. "I'm okay, can I go back and watch a movie?" 
"I want to stay here," Eli lamented, looking up from the toilet seat at them with such a pitiful expression that it broke Alex's heart before he proceeded to throw up again.
"Why don't you take Eli and Luna to the bathroom at the other end of the plane? I'll take Alexis back to our seats and we'll see how she does," Izzie said, Alex nodded in agreement as Izzie picked up Alexis and Alex picked up Eli, holding both him and Luna and they made their way back to their seats.
They made their way back to the seats and Alex took both Luna and Eli to Jo. The door was unlocked and so he let himself in as Jo looked up at them. She was leaning her arm on the toilet seat and was pale and sweaty, with a faint look in her eyes. 
She looked like she’d been put through the wringer and it made Alex’s heart ache. "Oh Jo, are you doing any better?" 
"Yeah, a bit," Jo said as she gave him a small and weary smile. 
"Good," Alex said, with a nod.
He didn't even have to ask Jo to take the kids as she held her arms out for them. "Come here my babies."
Eli ran into her arms as he sat down next to her and Jo put one arm around him as he leaned into her. While Luna wiggled out of his grasp to reach her Mama. To his relief, and that of everybody else, Luna stopped crying the moment she was in Jo’s arms. She curled up in Jo’s lap, content to just sit there, and even closed her eyes. Alex kneeled down and brushed away the hair that stuck to the sweet on Jo's neck. She had pulled it back in a sloppy ponytail and Alex undid it, running his fingers through her hair as he quickly braided it. 
"Do you guys need anything?" Alex asked as he wrapped her hairband around the end of her braid.
"Could you get me some water?" Jo asked, looking up at him as she ran her fingers through Luna's hair. "She's asleep now, do you want to take her?"
"Yeah," Alex said as he carefully transferred the now sleeping Luna back into his arms. He waited just for a second and prayed that she wouldn't wake up and start screaming again, but she was completely out and he let out a sigh of relief. "I'll take her back to the seats and see if I can set her down. Then I’ll come back with some water."
"Sounds good," Jo said with a nod as Eli claimed Luna’s spot in her lap and she wrapped her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 
Alex went back to their seats and saw that Izzie had gotten Alexis settled with a movie. She easily took Luna and held her rather than laying her down to sleep on the seat bed. Alex went back to the bathroom with two water bottles. As he got to the bathroom he heard the sound of someone vomiting and opened the door. Eli had his head over the bowl and Jo had him in her lap. She was brushing his hair back and she held a couple of paper towels to his forehead. 
"Oh Eli," Alex said as he grabbed a few extra paper towels and offered both of them to Eli as he sat back and Jo helped him wipe his lips. 
"I don't like this one bit," Eli said with a shake of his head before he leaned back and buried himself and Jo's shoulder.
Jo wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his head. "I know my sweet boy." 
"I'm sorry buddy," Alex said, reaching out to rub his back. "Do you two want to stay here or come back to your seats?"
Jo shook her head with a sigh. "I think it's best if we stay here."
Eli nodded in agreement. "I just want to stay here forever."
"Well you guys can stay here for the rest of the flight and I’ll go grab some blankets and a tablet so you can watch a movie," Alex said, as he got up.
Alex went back to their seats, grabbing a blanket and a tablet before he brought them back to them. This time he found Jo throwing up as Eli gently patted her back, the same way she had done with him, and Alex sat down and rubbed her back too. When she pulled back he wiped her lips as she signed and leaned into him. He got them set up with the blankets around them and the tablet playing a movie. Alex stayed with them as Jo and Eli crawled into his lap, each claiming one side of him as he held them both. However, he heard Luna start screaming again and quickly rushed to back her. 
Izzie held her up to him as she cried and reached out for him. "Daddy."
"I got you, baby," Alex said as held her close, rubbing her back. 
He began to pace up and down the walkways again and Luna quickly settled. However, the second he would sit back down, she would start screaming. So Alex spent most of the flight pacing back and forth. As he did, he'd check on everyone. Izzie and Alexis were both just hanging out as Alexis snuggled with Izzie, although she still said she had a tummy ache. Jo and Eli were both still throwing up, although they watched the movie a little bit and got some cuddle time as well. 
The flight attendants looked at them with pity and gave them whatever they wanted including extra snacks and ginger ale. Eventually though one of the stewardesses came up to him as he was pacing. Alex figured this was about him having to sit down as the pilot had just made the announcement they were going to land soon. 
Alex looked up at Janet before he looked at Luna, who was resting her head on his shoulder, and turned so Janet could see her. "Is she asleep? 
Janet nodded, with a small frown. "Poor little thing, I'm sorry your family is so sick." 
"I'm sorry for you guys too. I'm sure this hasn't been an easy flight and thank you for all your help.
"Don't worry it's not the worst we've seen," Janet said with a shake of her head. "Besides, it's better when they're cute."
"Thank you anyway," Alex said as she nodded and he went back to the bathroom.
He knocked on the bathroom door before he called out. "Jo, it's me."
"It's unlocked," Jo replied as Alex turned the lock and opened the door to see Jo and Eli curled up together, their heads against each other's as they both rested. 
He crouched down next to them reaching out to feel Eli's forehead, although he was still warm he wasn't running a fever. He did the same to Jo although she shrugged his hand away.
"I’m doing okay," Jo said although they both knew it was a lie, her forehead was hot and she was definitely running a fever. 
"We'll be landing soon and then we can all rest and watch a movie in bed at the hotel," Alex said, trying to cheer them up.
"We're not staying with Helen anymore?" Jo asked, tilting her head as she looked up at him. 
"No Izzie and I figured it'd be better to stay at a hotel so we wouldn't get her sick," Alex explained with a small smile. 
He had been looking forward to spending a lot of time with his mom but it looks like that plan had taken a sudden turn.
"No, I want to stay with Nana," Eli protested weakly, picking up his head as his lower lip hung out in the largest pout.
"I know buddy, I wanted to stay with Nana too, but we just can't risk getting her sick. Do you guys think you can keep it down enough to go sit back down?" 
"No I want to stay here," Eli said, turning around and hiding in Jo's chest as she wrapped his arms around him.
"It'll be okay Buddy," Jo said leaning in to kiss his forehead. 
"Do you promise?" Eli said, holding out his finger.
"I pinky promise," Jo said, hooking her pinky with his before she leaned in to kiss their conjoined pinkies.
Eli nodded and then looked back at Alex before he reached out to him. Alex picked him up, as Eli wrapped his legs around his waist. Jo put the blanket over him as she grabbed the tablet. Alex got up and then held out a hand to help Jo up. Jo looked a little woozy as she stood up and stumbled as she put her hand out on the sink. Alex quickly reached around to put a hand around her waist.
"You Good?" Alex asked her, knowing she would probably lie to him.
"Yeah," Jo said, as she stood up straighter, but still leaned on him. 
"Are you lightheaded?" Alex asked l as she rubbed her forehead. 
Jo just sighed and this time, she didn't lie to him. "Yeah."
"Alright well, let's take it slow as we walk back," Alex said as he moved to let her go. He wished he could hold her but the tiny doorway and walkway wouldn't let him.
The three of them walked down the aisle back to their seats. As he carried Eli, Jo put her hand on the back of each and Alex put his hand out in front of her each time to catch her in case she fell. They got back to their seats and got settled in. Jo sat next to Izzie and took Luna from her as she snuggled her girl. Alex went to the other row and Eli sat next to him as he put on their seatbelt. Eli snuggled into his side as Alex wrapped his arms around him and kissed his head.
As they descended he glanced over at Jo. She looked over and caught his eye, her eyes were hazy, but she kept taking deep breaths and remained conscious. Finally, they made it to the gate and rushed up to get out of there. Luckily everyone else let them get off first and the stewardess was kind enough to have the stroller ready at the gate. Jo put Luna, who was still asleep, in the stroller and Eli crawled into the seat next to her as Alexis sat in the footrest and laid her head on Eli’s legs. Alex carried all their bags with Izzie's help and Jo just pushed the stroller looking queasy as they finally made their way out into the airport.
"Alright, let's split up. You two take the kids and go get the rental car and I will get the bags from baggage claim and take a taxi to the hotel," Alex said as they paused near the baggage claim.
"That's smart, I'll call you when we find a hotel to stay at," Izzie said, with a nod. 
"We're not going to stay with Nana?" Alexis asked, looking up at them before she burst into tears. 
Izzie was quick to pick her up and held her as she rubbed her back. "Oh sweetie, we'll video call Nana as soon as we get to the hotel room, but we just don't want her to get sick too."
"You'll see her the second we’re all better," Jo promised, reaching out to stroke Alexis’ hair.
"But what if we don't see her at all? What if we're sick the entire time?" Eli lamented with a deep sigh and a deeper pout to match.
"don't worry buddy," Alex said, leaning down to hug him. "We'll see Nana soon enough and if we don't, we'll stay longer so you guys will for sure get a chance to see her, I promise."
"Pinky promise?" Eli asked holding out his pinky finger
"Pinky promise," Alex said, hooking their pinkies together.
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sungmee · 2 years
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so how about that trope of ‘who did this to you?’ followed by wreaking vengeance, but make it steddyhands and also a 2nd person outsider POV ficlet 
So you’re this guy, right? You live in this port popular among pirates, and you’re not a pirate yourself, but you know all about them, you deal with them all the time, whatever. So of course you know of Blackbeard, everyone knows of Blackbeard. He’s like, the ultimate pirate out there. 
And you’re this guy who isn’t all that impressive or particularly special, and maybe that annoys you sometimes. Maybe you want to be a little more infamous, a little more intimidating; a little more like Blackbeard. 
Then one day, Blackbeard rocks up into port, a while after his last visit, and there’s a whole lot of rumors about him now (Some ‘Gentleman Pirate’? Calling for Act of Grace??), but presently, he is, for all intents and purposes, the same as he ever was, with a slightly shorter beard. Just as cool, just as impressive, and people clear the way when he walks by, crew in tow. 
So you’re this guy and you watch him pass and you feel a little jealous. A little bitter. A little mean. So when you see Blackbeard later, in his cups and by himself, you think, perhaps this is an opportunity. And you take it.
It’s all a bit of a blur, adrenaline and anxiety, as you lunge from the shadows and swing, but you feel your fist make impact with flesh and internally cheer. You scrabble for your knife and lash out, strike something, and there’s a scuffle as you get knocked back, but then Blackbeard is gone and you’re on the floor.
Ok. So you’ve hurt Blackbeard, the Blackbeard, and yeah he hit you back hard enough to send you reeling, but you’re alive and he’s gone and you even managed to draw blood! That’s pretty impressive, right? You pick yourself up and scramble back to your room to revel in your victory. You got one over Blackbeard!
You sit in the dark and stare stupidly at the wall and grin at nothing for all of five minutes before you remember that Blackbeard could very well come back for you, or indeed, send someone else. It’s no secret that his first mate Izzy Hands is a vicious attack dog kind of man, that someone like you wouldn’t want to mess with on a good day, let alone one where you’ve attacked his captain. 
But Izzy is scary in an almost predictable kind of way, skilled and tough and still not to be taken lightly, but you kind of know what to expect with him. So, it’s fine, this is fine, if Izzy Hands comes after you, you’ll be fine. You’ve got weapons, you can defend yourself. 
And then there’s a knock on the door. A fucking knock. Who the fuck would knock on your door? So you get up, wary and tense and clutching a knife at your side, and you open the door.
And some fucking weirdly pretty dude in a pastel waistcoat and frilly shirt is standing on the other side. The fuck. 
“Hello!” He says cheerfully. “Are you the one who attacked Edward?”
You blink.
“Edward?”
“Blackbeard.” Waistcoat clarifies. 
You narrow your eyes.
"Depends who's asking."
"The Gentleman Pirate, at your service."
"Gentleman?" You sneer, thinking this is a joke, "Whatever, yeah I did get Blackbeard, what's it to you?"
"Ah." Says the weird guy, and suddenly his eyes narrow and go cold, the polite cheer vanishes, he's looming in the doorway, and you suddenly feel very very nervous.
"Edward is very dear to me, you see. Dear to both of us."
Dread shoots up your spine. You gulp.
"...both?"
"Say your prayers, dog," comes a raspy voice from behind you as a knife is suddenly at your neck.
"The fuck-?!"
Waistcoat steps inside and closes the door, casting the whole room in shadow. There’s steel at your throat and steel in his eyes. He smiles thinly at you. 
"As a gentleman, I thought it good manners to knock first. My partner here, however, is not so inclined to such niceties. Unfortunately for you."
Oh, you think, as the blade digs deeper and Waistcoat circles you like a shark, this is it, then. You fucked around, and now you’re about to find out.
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natrogersfics · 4 years
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After All - Chapter 1/5
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Cover art by @faith2nyc​ Read on AO3
​In the history of work-life balances, The Daily’s has to be the most bizarre of any company, and Natasha knows that it has nothing to do with the reasonable work hours Pepper is a stickler for implementing. One would truly be hard-pressed to find another work environment where the people get along so seamlessly. Sure, they have their disagreements, and their instincts are always to engage in debate rather than shy away from it, but for the most part, the second the clock strikes five p.m., all spats are forgotten in lieu of brainstorming which watering hole to head to (Dalton’s, always Dalton’s).   
To say that her coworkers are like family seems like a banality on the surface, the type of line an HR Department would print in the welcome packet for a new employee before their first day on the job. But as she stands by the doorway of Tony and Pepper’s living room, watching the very people she works with on a daily basis joyously mingle with members of her actual family, she does not know how else she could possibly define them. These people are the best of the best in the respective subjects, their combined accomplishments the envy of anyone with even a scintilla of ambition to succeed in the media. And yet here they are, holding plates filled with rainbow cake and sporting unicorn party hats, all because these happen to be her daughter’s latest obsession and they’re all powerless to deny her – especially on her first birthday.
In some ways, she knew they would be fond of Isabel, but she never expected them to adore her quite like this – for Thor to bring her a strawberry cupcake every eleventh to celebrate each new month of her life, or for Stephen and Christine to insist that they come over so the latter can personally perform routine checkups, or for Tony to customize a double stroller for when he takes both Isabel and Maria to his workshop. What’s more, they’ve all rallied around her as well, none of them ever more than a text message away when she’s in need of anything, which proved invaluable as she navigated motherhood for the first time. 
This outpour of love from a group of people who are not by any stretch obligated to go so above and beyond is an anomaly, she knows. It’s going to take some kind of miracle for her to find another group of genuinely kind people who would go up to bat for her and Isabel. And it’s that very thought that wrests the sadness she’s been trying to keep at bay all day as she ponders how this may be the last time in a long while that they will gather like this. 
“Are you sure you have to go?”   
The question breaks her out of her reverie, and she turns to see Darcy next to her, holding up two forks in one hand and a plate of cake in the other. She chuckles, reaching for the other fork as they both take a bite and moan at the perfection that is Sarah Roger’s baking. “I already paid the security deposit on the flat we’re staying in,” she says. “So that’s going to be a yes.”
“Flat, huh? Look at you, getting in on the lingo,” Darcy teases before groaning. “But until your butt is officially across the pond, it is an apartment. And it is take-out, not take-away. Which, coincidentally, we happen to have the best of here. Where are you going to get your Nom Wah fix in London, Nat, huh? Where?”
“They have a Chinatown there too, last I checked,” she counters, laughing when Darcy rolls her eyes. “Besides, I have to go anyway on the account of me being out of a job. I do have a child to support, you know.”
“First of all, the only reason you’re out of a job is because you got a big promotion,” Darcy says matter-of-factly. “Stupid corporate ladder.”
“Big words coming from the newly minted editor of The Daily’s International section,” she says, suddenly brimming with pride.
“Only because I learned everything from you,” Darcy says quietly before sighing in concession. “Ugh! You better not forget us when you’re out there being a hotshot editor-in-chief. And you better make sure Boss Baby doesn’t forget who her favorite is!”
“Darcy, Darcy, Darcy,” she says, wrapping an arm around the shoulders of the first person to truly become her constant at work. “You are many things, but forgettable is not one of them.”
“Yeah, true,” Darcy concedes easily, causing them both to laugh.
“Speaking of the Boss Baby though,” she says, checking her watch. “It’s almost her bedtime, so I better go make sure none of her grandparents have let her eat all the icing.” 
“I think what you really have to be concerned about is an aunt and uncle helpless over her charms,” Darcy says, smiling knowingly. “Last I saw her she was in the kitchen with Bucky and Wanda.”
She’s about to thank her, but before she can, Darcy’s already running towards the center of the living room at Thor’s roaring announcement that a game of Pictionary is about to commence. For a second, she allows herself a moment to watch the pandemonium unfold as her friends – her fully grown adult friends, no less – vie for the positions of team captains. “Hooligans,” she says, shaking her head fondly before making a beeline for the kitchen. She pokes her head in, finding Bucky and Wanda poring over the cheese and cold cuts selection laid out on the island before knocking on the wall to get their attention. “Any of you know where Izzie is?”
“Nat!” Bucky exclaims, “you have to try this cheese. It smells like something died in it, but it’s so damn delicious!”
She tilts her head to the side, the corner of her mouth tugging up in amusement. “Maybe later, Buck.” 
“Ignore him. He’s inhaled too much cheese,” Wanda says over the rim of her wine glass before pointing upwards. “Steve took her upstairs for a diaper change.”
“Thank you,” she says, turning to leave. She makes it to the stairs, climbing it two steps at a time until she reaches the top and stops in front of the framed collage of Maria on the wall. As her eyes scan the plethora of pictures, she can’t help but smile. She’s seen this frame countless times before, can practically name where each photo was taken and how old her goddaughter is in every one of them, but for some reason, she finds herself lingering before it, as if she needs to recommit everything to her memory lest she forget. She gives herself another minute, and with a sigh, forces herself to look away and walk down the familiar path to the nursery.  
“Do you know how much Daddy loves you?”
Steve’s words stop her dead in her tracks, and through the door left cracked open, she catches a glimpse of him sitting on the rocking chair with Isabel across his lap, their daughter staring up at him as he feeds her a bottle. The sight of them gazing affectionately at each other punches the breath out of her lungs, and it’s only by instinct that she moves out of view, pressing her back against the nearest wall.
“I don’t even know if I have the right words to describe how much,” she hears Steve confess with a little chuckle, to which Isabel coos, and in her heart of hearts, she knows that she should not be eavesdropping on this moment – it isn’t hers, and yet, she finds herself unable to move. “I guess it’s a good thing that you don’t understand me all that well yet, so I have some time to figure them out...” He sighs, long and winded. “Though, if I’m being honest, I don’t know if I ever will. There couldn’t possibly be words in existence that will encapsulate how much I love every little inch of you.” Steve’s voice cracks by the end, followed closely by a sniffle. “I’m going to miss you like crazy, fig. And I’ll call you all the time, so please don’t forget Daddy while you’re over there, okay? You’re my whole world, baby girl…”   
The hallway and the stairs and the foyer are all a blur as she bolts, the air around her suddenly too thick. She makes it out the front door, but by the time she gets to the bottom step of the brownstone, her legs feel too heavy to keep herself upright and she slumps down, placing her head in her hands as the Summer night’s air blows by and the sound of the traffic on the Upper East Side rings ambiently around her. She sighs. Steve’s words weren’t even meant for her to hear. It shouldn’t affect her this way – shouldn’t hurt her this way – especially when they’re full of adulation for their daughter. And yet, it’s as if she’s taken another dagger to her already crippled heart.
“Natasha.”
She looks up in time to see her mother take a seat next to her, and in the warmth of Melinda’s embrace, she finally lets the tears fall. “Would you believe me if I said I was just tired?”
“Oh, Nat,” Melinda says, reaching over to thumb her tears away. “You don’t have to do this. You know that, right?”
“Only I do,” she says, the words tumbling out of her mouth almost immediately. “He’s had a year. Heck, he’s had more than that to say something, give me a sign.” Melinda’s expression softens at her words, and she knows that it’s because despite offering her a way out only moments ago, Melinda’s one of the few people who knows she’s right. It’s been too long since that fateful night she asked Steve if she had a reason to stay, only to be met by silence. It was damning then, and it’s even more so in the time that’s passed since they’d agreed to postpone both her move to London and the implementation of their custody agreement until Isabel turned one. If he wanted her, if he felt even a fraction for her of what she felt for him, he had countless opportunities and ample time to say so. But now here they are, their daughter past her first year of life, and a day away from each of them getting her six months out of the year. She shakes her head. “He loves her so much. That’s more than I could have ever asked for, and in some ways, that’s always been the deal.” She turns to Melinda, smiling sadly. “I can’t keep hoping anymore. I have to move on.”  
With a sad smile, Melinda drops a kiss to her temple. “Okay.” 
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In the months leading up to this day, there were countless times Natasha had caught herself imaging how it would play out. She expected a tear or two to be shed – Sarah and Melinda being the most obvious culprits – but at the very least, she thought the massive crowds at JFK would prove a compelling enough reason for them to not only keep it together, but also to keep their goodbyes short and sweet. But here, on the tarmac in Teterboro, with the Stark Industries jet before her and her entire family close by, she realizes that this is quickly morphing into her worst-case scenario – drawn out goodbyes, too many sad eyes, and her heart feeling all too heavy in her chest.
“You tell T’Challa that I will never forgive him for this.”
Pepper’s words elicit a laugh from her. “Oh please,” she says, scoffing even as she wraps her arms tighter around Pepper and pretends not to feel the warmth of the tear that drips down to her shoulder. “If you were at all capable of holding a grudge, the three of us would’ve stopped being friends long ago.”
“That was before he plotted to steal my best friend from me,” Pepper mumbles, making them both laugh. “Do you realize that this is the first time since college that we’re not going to live within a subway’s ride from each other?”
“We’ll drop by for Christmas,” she offers quietly, unable to trust that her voice won’t falter if she dares answer the question directly. Over Pepper’s shoulder, her eyes quickly glance at the group by the stairs of the jet – Sarah, Nick and Melinda, and Bucky and Wanda all gathered around Steve and Isabel – and she finds herself relieved that she had already said her lengthy goodbyes to most of them last night. She takes a step back from Pepper as she says, “These next six months will fly by.”
“Alright, alright,” Tony interjects as he comes up next to them with Maria on his hip. “Let’s not act like there’s not going to be a Stark Industries emergency in the London office in two weeks that only the CEO can solve.” He eyes Pepper and then her knowingly before nodding towards the jet. “Best not to misuse company property more than we already are.”
She rolls her eyes, breaking away from Pepper’s embrace completely. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you the one who insisted on this whole spectacle?”
“You were gonna fly commercial,” Tony says, his expression twisting in disgust. “We’re not savages, Red.”  
Her lips quirk up at that. To anyone else, Tony’s quip drips with arrogance and reeks of privilege from a life defined by exuberant wealth. But she’s known the man for over a decade now, and though most of the time his tact leaves much to be desired, she understands him enough to know how to read between the lines. Their friendship has never been defined by heartfelt tête-à-têtes, and part of her is glad that he doesn’t seem keen on starting that now. Nevertheless, she knows that making sure she and Isabel are nothing short of exceedingly comfortable on an already difficult trip, is Tony’s ultimate way of showing just how much he cares. 
“Come here,” she says, stepping forward to engulf both him and Maria in a hug.  
“Oh, we’re doing this?” Tony says. “Okay, we’re really doing this.” She ignores him, but it only takes a beat before she feels his free arm wrap around her as well, squeezing back. When they pull away, he has his signature smirk on his face. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
She chuckles just as she drops a kiss to Maria’s forehead. “Bye sweetheart,” she tells her goddaughter before turning back to Tony, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does that list even exist?”
Tony winks at her, prompting Pepper to shake her head at the both of them. 
“Indeed, it does not,” Pepper says, linking arms with her. “Come on.”
The pit in her stomach that she’s been trying to ignore since she got up this morning rears its ugly head once more. It’s for the best, she reminds herself. These four words have become her mantra ever since she uttered them that night in Steve’s office when she had first given him the custody agreement, and though her heart had never felt as eviscerated as it had in that moment, the fact that she’s only minutes away from jetting off to a different continent is testament to the fact that there’s truth in it. That, despite all that she’d hoped would change, this is how their lives must play out if they are to make their arrangement work. She sucks in a breath at the thought, at the finality of it all, and as she huffs out, the reassuring squeeze from Pepper grounds her enough to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Sarah is the first to notice them as they near, and she’s quick to offer her a warm smile before turning to Steve, whispering in his ear and giving Isabel one last kiss. 
“Be safe, darling,” Sarah says when she makes her way over to her, cupping her face in her hands. “And please, don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t,” she says, smiling earnestly. “Thank you, Sarah.” Sarah’s barely stepped away from her when she feels two pairs of arms wrap around her simultaneously, and she can’t help but laugh when she finds herself sandwiched between Nick and Melinda. “Sucking up all my oxygen here, guys.”
“Call us the second you land,” Melinda orders. “And not a second later, you hear? We have your flight plan.”
“Or by God, I will order an F-35 to come find you,” Nick adds.  
She scoffs. “You’ve been saying that since I was sixteen.”
“It was true then and it’s even truer now that you’re taking my grandbaby with you,” Nick says, eyeing her pointedly. “Don’t try me.”
“Fine,” she says, chuckling softly. “We’ll FaceTime you the second we land. How’s that?”
“Excellent,” Melinda says, hugging her tightly once more. “Our girl, we love you so.”  
“Love you too,” she says to each of them. Wanda and Bucky are last in line, and as she accepts a hug from the former and a kiss on the cheek from the latter, she begins to make her way towards the landing of the stairs where Steve stands cradling a sleeping Isabel. She stops a foot short of them, tucking her hands into her pockets and mustering the best smile she can. “We should get going.”  
Steve nods, turning to nuzzle the top of Isabel’s head. “Be a good girl for momma, okay?” he says, and she has to avert her gaze elsewhere at the way his voice breaks at the end. “Daddy loves you so much, fig.”
Just as she had the night before, she finds herself once again an intruder in a moment she has no business being a part of as she listens to Steve whisper sweet nothings to their daughter. But despite the feeling of being so unwelcome, so unwanted, she swallows it all down along with the lump that’s formed in her throat in an attempt to keep it together. It’s only when she hears Steve mutter a soft okay that she dares look back, watching as he steps forward to place Isabel into her arms. 
“Shh,” she says gently when Isabel stirs at the movement, carefully shifting her so she can rest her head on her shoulder before turning to Steve. “I’ll text you when we land and again when we get to our flat, so you know she’s safe.”
“Yeah, thanks,” he says, letting a beat pass before shaking his head. “Natasha…”  
For a moment, she can only stand there, letting his utterance of her name hang in the air between them. Where she finds the courage to look in his eyes, she isn’t certain, but she does. The pain in them is clear as the sky above them, but for whom it’s for, she can only surmise. Surely, for being separated for the next six months from their daughter, who’s oblivious to the loaded silence between them as she slumbers peacefully against her. And though she knows she shouldn’t, she lets herself wonder – wish, really – if only for a fraction of a second, and perhaps for the last time, that maybe that pain is for her, too. And that maybe, just maybe, now he would say the words she’s been longing to hear.
Steve sighs, and she holds her breath as he leans down to kiss her cheek. “Knock ‘em dead, Natasha Romanoff.”
Her eyes fall shut at that, and though he’s close enough that she can smell the familiar scent of his cologne and feel the warmth of his skin, they might as well be continents apart already. “Thanks,” she whispers, giving him a final nod before she turns to ascend the stairs.
There’s only the whirr of the jet taxiing towards the runway as she settles further back against the softness of the leather seat. Across her chest, Isabel sleeps peacefully, her curls glowing russet in the sunlight streaming through the window and her weight a welcome distraction from the hollowness burrowing deep inside of her, settling in. By now, she realizes, the sensation is just an old friend. She sighs, running her hand up and down Isabel’s back, holding her closer. “It’s just you and me, fig.”
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I’m not freaking out, you are!
Steve’s brow arches as he reads the words in the blue bubble, and he does not waste time pressing down on the file attachment, eagerly waiting for the video to take up the entirety of the screen. Once it does, Isabel comes into view, sporting a gray Dodgers jersey with her hair pulled up in two symmetric pigtails as she clings onto the edge of a coffee table. The sight pulls his lips up into a beaming smile, all but threatening to split his face. 
“Come to momma, fig,” he hears Natasha encourage in the background. “You can do it!”
Despite Natasha’s message alluding to the fact that this had been a fruitful exercise, he finds himself holding his breath as he watches Isabel blink, her eyebrows furrowing in suspicion as if she’s contemplating her mother’s words. On the lower part of the screen, her foot inches forward ever so slightly, though whether it is to test the waters or tease her mother, he can only guess. But then her dubious expression fades as quickly as it had come, making way for a toothy grin, and then his eyes widen as he witnesses her take one wobbly step and then trot the rest of the way.
“Yay!” Natasha cheers, eliciting an elated giggle from Isabel, and he can’t help but laugh along as the camera flips to show Natasha with Isabel now on her lap. “We’re walking!”  
He types back a quick Yes! followed by But also, uh oh! 😬 before pressing play on the video once more, this time watching Isabel walk on her own without the nervousness that had plagued him only moments ago. It seems ridiculous – though he’s willing to bet that most parents feel the same way – but he feels pride surge right through him. Isabel was just beginning to get the hang of walking while her hands were being held up during her first birthday, and now, less than six months later, she’s already cruising along by herself. Time, he muses, truly does zip on by.
Placing his phone down on the counter, he stops to ponder his last thought. If there’s one thing he’s come to realize about time, it is that it can be a real conundrum – moving faster than you wish it would when you least want it to and slowing down to an agonizing crawl when you’re all but begging for it to fly. Only, these two facets seemed to be happening simultaneously in the last six months since his custody agreement with Natasha had taken effect. On one hand, Isabel is growing and changing faster than he can keep up with, becoming her own person with every day that passes. But at the same time, it feels as if his turn to have her, to witness these milestones unfold in real time, is an eternity away.
“I don’t like that face. Not one bit.”
He turns towards the sound of the voice, chuckling when he sees his mother walking into his kitchen, a box from her bakery in hand. “So much for a face only a mother can love.”
“Of course I love that face,” Sarah says, setting the box and her purse down on the island before hopping on the stool next to his. “I made it.” Sarah snickers as he rolls his eyes. “What I don’t love is when it’s all broody and scrunched up” – she points to his head – “means something’s going on up there.”   
With a sigh, he unlocks his phone, opening the video back up before pushing it towards Sarah. His mother squeals upon seeing her granddaughter, picking up the device to get a closer look. 
“She’s gotten so big!” she says, her eyes on the screen. “Goodness, she’s walking. Really walking!”
“She finally fit into the jersey Thor gave her before she was born, too,” he adds, shaking his head in disbelief. “Now it’s just right.” It’s probably the tone of his voice – crestfallen, though he hadn’t meant for it to come out that way – that causes Sarah to look at him, her eyes rueful. He waves off her concern. “I’m fine, ma. Some days are just harder than most. Technology’s great and all, but I still feel like I’m missing so much. And now...”
Sarah reaches over to place her hand over his. “I’m sorry they’re not going to make it for Christmas, darling.” 
“It’s fine,” he repeats. While he isn’t due to have Isabel until after New Years’, with some cajolery from Melinda, Nick, and Pepper, Natasha had agreed that she and Isabel would come visit for Christmas. That’d been the plan even before they left for London almost six months ago, and if he’s being completely honest, it’s been the day he’s been counting down to since. But then an emergency at Natasha’s work came up, preventing her and Isabel from traveling until after the holiday and successfully upending everything he had been looking forward to. He sighs. “It’s still technically Natasha’s time with her and she was being really magnanimous about sharing Izzie for Christmas anyway.” He swipes his hand out, as if to dismiss his melancholy, but even that is half-hearted. “I was just really looking forward to it, you know? Bucky already bought her a beanie with Reindeer antlers that light up and I thought maybe she could still see the Rockefeller tree.”
“Still might,” Sarah says, to which he gives a non-committal nod. “They don’t take it down right away anyway. But have you maybe considered asking Natasha if you can fly there for Christmas?”
“What?” he nearly spits out the word in surprise, tilting his head to the side as he looks at his mother like she’s grown three heads. “What’re- I mean, what in the world makes you think she’d agree to that?”
This time, it’s Sarah’s turn to look at him incredulously. “You two have been getting along great these past few months, haven’t you?”
“We text about Izzie,” he says, “and yes, Natasha’s there when we FaceTime too, but that’s because she has to hold up the phone on the account of Izzie wanting to put everything in her mouth. That is not the same as getting along great.” He sits up straighter, shaking his head. “Besides, spending Christmas together? In London? That’s not even remotely in our-”
“Oh please,” Sarah interrupts. “I don’t care what you two have written down in your contract-”
“Custody agreement,” he corrects.
“Semantics,” Sarah counters. “Like it or not, you and Natasha are forever bonded by the beautiful baby girl you two brought into this world. That makes you family, and families spend Christmas together.” Sarah shrugs, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip and seemingly deliberating her next words. “Unless…”
He looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. “Unless?”
“Steven, hon, you know I don’t like to pry,” Sarah says carefully. “But ever since… well, okay. I suppose I thought that maybe things between you and Natasha… especially after Izzie was born… I thought maybe you two would give it a chance. But then nothing happened, and I said I’d leave you two to it. It’s your lives. But now she’s over there, making a life for herself and you know what? Good on her. But then I see you, and I… It just seems to me like you’re stuck. And I feel like I’ve seen this before, so I have to ask… Do you maybe still have feelings for Natasha?”
His eyebrows shoot into his hairline. “That is not what-”
“And that is not an answer.”
“I…” he begins, only to pause to collect his thoughts. “I have had the tremendous opportunity of curating for a successful gallery and overseeing its expansions. And that is on top of my day job at the paper and making sure I am pulling my weight as a co-parent. I’m barely in the same place for five minutes, so quite frankly, ma, by definition I think that’s the opposite of being stuck.” When Sarah’s pointed glance does not let up, he sighs. “Look… if the lack of two more seats at our Christmas table this year is any indication, I’d say my feelings weren’t any good on a one-way street. If I were stuck, I’d still be standing on it, but like I just said...”
Sarah puts her hands up. “Well, if all the hatchets are buried…” she says as she moves off the stool and slings her purse over her shoulder. “No harm in asking then, is there?” She reaches over to the counter, pushing his phone back to him and nodding towards the screen. “You don’t get any of these moments back, Steve. So if there’s any chance you can be a part of them instead of watching from afar, try.” With a smile, she leans in to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you Sunday at brunch.”  
Sleep eludes him later that night as he watches the shadows dance across the ceiling, his mind replaying the conversation he had with Sarah. As he ruminates on its substance, he’s suddenly transported back to that night almost two years ago when Natasha had received her award from the Journalists’ Guild. At that point, their relationship had plunged into this strange and confusing pitfall. They had gone from living together as Natasha recovered from her awful fall, falling into domestic bliss as they did, to her serving him a custody agreement in his office seemingly in a blink of an eye. When he approached her that night for a dance, all he truly wanted was to erase the distance and the silence that had grown between them. But sometime in the middle of them swaying along to a soft string tune, she had informed him that she was going to take the job in London, and as he remembers how her words had made him feel then, hurt washes over him anew. She had pulled the rug from underneath him, sending him into free fall that, by the time she was accusing him of having never wanted their child in the first place, and asking him if she had a reason to stay, he was frozen. Speechless. Powerless to stop her from walking away and disappearing into the crowd.
Navigating their relationship after that night was incredibly difficult. They were both hurt, and understandably so, but giving each other space became nearly impossible when Natasha’s pregnancy spurned more health complications. They weren’t grave, thankfully, but it was enough to bring them to the sober realization that regardless of what had transpired between them, they couldn’t let their feelings get in the way of prioritizing the one thing that meant the world to the both of them. And by the time Isabel was born, the effort they’d both put in to make their circumstances work was so much that he told himself that it did not matter that his feelings for Natasha were not only lingering, but also brewing deep – rocking the boat was the last thing the three of them needed.
Further, what he had told his mother hadn’t been a lie. Feelings are no good on a one-way street. Perhaps there was a point where Natasha had felt the same way about him as he felt about her, but that was all moot now. In the end, she had gotten on the plane to London, and though he wanted nothing more than to tell her how he truly felt as they said their goodbyes at the airport, he still did not know with a certainty if that would have been enough. That, his love was a compelling enough reason for her to forego an opportunity that she’d been working towards her whole life. So instead, he told her the one thing he knew she’d do anyway – go and succeed. And if the reviews of the paper she’s helming and their cordial co-parenting relationship are anything to go by, it’s clear that staying mum was the right call. 
It’s then that the merit of Sarah’s earlier argument becomes clear. While spending Christmas together isn’t something they’ve ever discussed, with the both of them moving forward, perhaps there really was no harm in asking. Perhaps what’s in the past can stay in the past. Perhaps Christmas didn’t have to be so somber this year.Before he can change his mind, he reaches for his phone. 
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Natasha holds her breath as she creeps out into the hallway, relief crashing down on her like a ton of bricks when she successfully clicks the door shut without hearing a cry. With a sigh, she brings a hand up to the bridge of her nose, pinching down and letting her eyes fall shut in exhaustion. Isabel’s been restless the last couple of days, waking up intermittently and distraught for reasons that she cannot seem to figure out. To top it all off, despite the holidays fast approaching, her workload only seems to grow exponentially, and with the recent lack of sleep, the fatigue is getting harder to stave off.With a heavy exhale, she straightens up, willing herself back to her living room and to where she left her laptop on the couch. 
The words on the open document on her screen are ones she’s read enough times that she can recite them verbatim from memory, and yet, as she tries to come up with the next sentence, her mind draws a blank. With a groan, she pushes her screen down shut. Writing has always been her outlet of choice, allowing her to clear her head by losing herself in the topic of her current piece, and for it to fail her now when she’s most in need of a catharsis, she can’t help but feel even more untethered.The ding of her phone cuts through the silence, and she looks towards where it’s resting on the cushion to see an email notification pop up. 
Picking it up, she glides a finger over the bubble on the screen and sighs when she sees the subject line read: 
URGENT – Meeting w/ PR tomorrow
Without reading the contents, she closes her email app, deciding that at two in the morning, she just does not have the mental bandwidth to deal with any more work woes. But as she does, her photo stream appears, and a video begins to play. The camera zooms in, showing Steve carefully lifting a six-month-old Isabel up to blow bubbles on her belly, and she stops to watch Isabel giggle. In her desperation to soothe Isabel tonight, she had decided to play the video as she rocked her to sleep, and much to her relief, it had worked. Within minutes, and with Steve’s voice on loop in the background, Isabel had finally gone to bed.It’s when the frame switches to Steve and Isabel playing peek-a-boo that she finds her throat tightening. When she had moved six months ago, she had believed that not only was it the right decision, but also that the challenge of a new job and readjusting to a different country would aid her in moving on. But as Isabel’s soft coos and Steve’s laughter from the video fills the room, the sounds only seem to further underscore how big and empty her flat feels.
Her thoughts are interrupted by the audio cutting off, and she glares at the screen in anticipation of another work-related email, but her eyes only widen in surprise when she sees a text from Steve.
Hey, do you have time to talk tomorrow morning (late afternoon your time)? Just had a question…
As she reads the text, her eyebrows furrow. While they communicate several times a week, it’s only so he can video chat with Isabel or so she can send him Isabel’s latest photo. It’s not like him to shoot her a text out of the blue, and it’s even more so unusual for him to be vague about the subject. She bites her lip as she contemplates a reply, typing something out only to delete it. By her fourth attempt, her mind begins to race with a deluge of questions. With a huff, she puts her phone down, and finds herself almost grateful when she catches the porch light next door flicker on through her window. Hurriedly, she gets up, running through her foyer and hastily throwing her door open just as her neighbor is about to place their key into the lock. “Any chance you’re up for a nightcap?” she asks, biting her lip. 
Her neighbor turns, looking every bit as tired as any reasonable person returning home at this hour should. Nevertheless, he smirks. “When you’re offering?” he asks. “Always.”
“Long week, huh?” she asks later on as they sit on her couch, each clutching a glass of wine.
“Endless,” he says as he angles to face her. “Two back-to-back shifts with a twelve-hour surgery somewhere in between that nearly went critical, to be exact.”
“Nothing the great Dr. Laufeyson couldn’t handle, I’m sure,” she says, eyeing him knowingly.
“The patient survived, if that’s what you’re alluding to,” Loki says, prompting them both to laugh.
Her gaze falls to her wine, watching the dark liquid swirl as she rotates the glass in her hand. “Must be nice, though,” she says, “knowing what you do saves lives.” She looks over at him as she adds, “That of children, especially.”
“It is,” he agrees. “They’re wonderful and pure, as I’m sure you know. Not yet privy to the trickery and harshness of the world at large like we adults are... But that’s a conversation for a different time.” He takes a sip of his wine before arching a brow at her. “So, tell me, Miss Romanoff. What is it that has you keeping me from my bed?”
She scoffs. “Didn’t realize I had the power to make you do things you didn’t want to do.”
“I’d do anything for you and that little angel of yours,” he says before shrugging. “You know that.”
Loki’s words bring a smile to her face. For all her struggles in the last six months, meeting and getting to know him has been one of the bright spots that’s kept her going. That, and the fact that he lives next door and is up at ungodly hours like she is, is convenient – especially on nights like this when she could really use someone to talk to. It’s with that reminder that she sighs and goes about catching him up on everything that’s been plaguing her mind since the last time she saw him. When she finally gets to Steve’s text, she hands him her phone. “I’m probably just over analyzing it,” she says. “For all I know, he probably just wants to FaceTime with Izzie more.”
“Then why not just get to it then?” Loki challenges. “Natasha, let’s be honest about what this is really about.”   
She shakes her head. “I just said that he-”
“I don’t mean about him,” Loki says, sighing when she stares confusedly at him. “You’ve basically just admitted to missing the man-”
“I said no such thing!” 
Loki shoots her a withering look. “Do you’ve any idea how many parents deny how much sugar they’ve fed their kids as I hold the results of their child’s blood work in my hands?” He scoffs. “It’s easy to say things, Natasha, but you cannot deny what is so. I assume you sulking in the dark and watching videos of him and Izzie aren’t just because you’re feeling nostalgic.”
“What do you want me to say, Loki?” she asks. “That I’m freaking out about this because I’m... lonely? Tired? Tipsy?” She chuckles, but it’s humorless, hollow. Her voice is barely above a whisper as she adds, “or that moving thousands of miles away was for nothing seeing as I’m still so pathetically in love with someone who clearly doesn’t love me back and who can seemingly pull me apart with a single text?”
“Only if that’s the truth,” Loki says, making her shoulders sag in defeat. “Natasha, I didn’t mean to upset you.” He takes her hand in his, causing her to look at him. “I simply wanted you to be honest about what’s at play here.” He sighs. “I don’t claim to know what or how he feels. And for that matter, what you truly do, and I will not pry. But what I do know is that you are smart, strong, gorgeous, and any man would be lucky to have you. The ones that don’t see that? They’re idiots and they don’t deserve you.” Her lips quirk at that, and he smiles. “Remember that the next time you think one text from someone can pull you apart, hm?”
Loki punctuates his words with a gentle squeeze to her hand, and as she lets the gravity of his sentiment sink in, she nods. “Thanks,” she says, laughing when he only winks and brings her hand up to kiss her knuckles.  
By the time Loki bids her goodnight and she makes it to bed, her mind feels a little clearer. Maybe she’s right and that whatever it is Steve wants to ask her is something as small as wanting more time to talk to Isabel, but the reality is that she’ll never know if she doesn’t find out. And if it turns out to be something that takes a wrecking ball to her heart all over again, if what Loki said is anything to go by, then maybe she isn’t giving herself enough credit. She has made it this far – scars and all.
With that in mind, she reaches for her phone and searches for Steve’s message to type out her reply.
Sure! Talk to you then.
Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
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penwieldingdreamer · 4 years
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Caring Makes You Weak
So, as there are too few Harvey Specter Stories and inspiration finally striked again while rewatching Suits I decided to rework an old story of mine and post it on here, too.
Hope you guys will like it. Let me know what you think. If you want to be tagged, just let me know.
Also shout out to my beta @fortheloveoffanfic​
Summary: Harvey Specter, best closer in New York City and Senior Partner at Pearson Hardman, the man most females in the city want, yet he himself doesn't want commitment, because caring makes one weak. Enter Elle Howard, a woman he met a long time ago. Will she be the one to break down his walls and make him care?
Words: 1704
(Coverart still pending)
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"Mommy? Can we see daddy today?" the three-year old's question sounded from the back of the car as the young mother was on her way to drop her two children off at daycare and school. 
A deep sigh left Elle's lips when she stopped at a red light. "I don't think he's got time today." she said, keeping her mouth shut about her ex-husband's questioning ability to spend more than five minutes with his kids. 
"He doesn't have time because he doesn't want us anymore, Izzy, he's got a new family." her son ranted angrily. Ever since Travis and her had split up, the seven year old pulled away from her. He was easily irritated and his grades were suffering. Elle wasn't able to spend as much time with her children as she used to when she was still married to Travis Tanner. During that time she used to be a stay-at-home-mom, but now she had to work odd jobs to keep her kids in the same facilities as they were right now. She didn't want to take that away from them when they already had so much on their plate. 
"Charles Henry Tanner, stop it. Don't talk like that to your sister." she called, only just taking her eyes off the road for the fraction of a second. It was enough time for the light to change again and another car speeding towards them. 
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Mike raced towards Harvey's office, the files tightly gripped in his hand. His heart was racing, reading through the Pro Bono. Donna looked up from her desk, her eyes widening when she saw the associate come running down the hallway. 
"Mike!" she called, getting up from her chair. "What's going on?" 
He held up his hand and stormed into the office. "Harvey, I need your help." 
Looking up, the closer opened his mouth but closed it again when he saw the wild look in Mike's eyes. "What the hell are you doing storming in here?" Ever since the younger man had lost his beloved Grammy and the problems with Daniel Hardman, Harvey had been irritated to no end, not even Donna being reinstated had helped lighten his mood. 
"Louis gave me that case. I can't take it." he answered, putting the folder onto his boss' desk. He raked his hands through his hair, pacing in the office, his long strides taking him from the corner window to the door and back again. 
Harvey took the files, reading through the case notes, cursing on the inside, while not showing his own reaction to his associate. "So? What do you want me to do about this?" 
"This is a custody case. I never did that and it's Tanner's ex-wife." the younger man argued. "He's going to rip this case apart. There's no chance I can beat him." 
Leaning back in his chair, Harvey Specter watched his associate. He knew what he was capable of, but Travis was a pitbull in court. "How about you talk to his ex-wife and get started, I'll look into the rest of the case." 
"Elle's my neighbor, Harvey." Mike told him, falling down into the chair in front of the desk. "When I lose that case, she's going to lose her kids. Tanner doesn't even want to spend time with his kids anymore, he's got a new family now. They might as well end up with a foster family." 
Rubbing his chin, the lawyer turned around and looked out of the window. "What exactly happened?" 
"Actually I would have loved to have you come with me to ask that question." 
"Mike, I can't" 
"I cleared your schedule, Harvey. You should go with the puppy." Donna's voice sounded over the intercom, the smile on her lips clear as a day. 
Harvey turned to the glass wall of his office, seeing his secretary looking at him. He raised his eyebrow, giving her a warning look. "I thought we had an agreement about you listening in." The redhead just shrugged her shoulders and gave him her typical 'Donna' look. "Right, let's go ask some questions." 
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Together, the lawyer and his associate stood in front of Elle Howard's apartment, the one just down the hall from Mike's. 
"Harvey, please be gentle this time. They took the kids from her as soon as they were checked out from the hospital." he told his boss, fidgeting with his tie. 
Rolling his eyes, the closer hit him in the chest. "Stop it, Mike. You know her, what are you nervous about?" He raised his hand and knocked on the door. 
"I just don't want to let her down, you know." he answered, looking at his boss and friend. 
Before he could answer, the door opened and Harvey felt his breath catch. It wasn't that he was shocked by the beauty of the woman leaning in the doorway watching them closely, not that she wasn't beautiful even with the cuts and bruises on her face and body, but he remembered those eight years ago. "Elle." 
"Harvey." 
Swallowing, the closer and his rookie entered the apartment after the redhead. Mike gave his friend a questioning look before he shook his head. "You know her?" he angrily whispered, pointing his thumb at Elle. Harvey just shook his head and walked over to the couch where the younger woman was already seated. 
"So, Tanner and you?" he opened his questioning, leaning back on the couch next to his associate. 
Chuckling softly, Elle looked over at the lawyer. "That's what your first question is going to be? I thought you'd at least have the nerve to ask me how I am doing." 
"Elle, listen, I'm sorry that we showed up like this, can you tell us what happened the day of the accident?" Mike intervened, sending his boss and mentor a dark look. 
Brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the mother-of-two sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say? I'm just happy that my kids are fine and didn't get hurt. Do you have any idea when I can see them again?" 
Clearing his throat, Harvey watched her closely. "Your ex-husband has filed for custody, Mrs Tanner, also banned you from seeing the children until trial is over."
"I'm going by Howard now, already done that for the last two years." Elle bit back, fidgeting in her seat, when she felt tears spring to her eyes. "I didn't do anything wrong for that jerk to deny me my kids. He didn't even want them in the first place, Travis gave me sole custody but no money for Izzy and Charlie." 
Getting up from the plush couch she moved over towards the window, looking down at the numerous picture frames showing her wonderful children. They were her life and not having them here with her was tearing her up inside.  "It was only a second." she started, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Harvey watched her closely, remembering the weekend they had spent together, while his associate rested his eyes on him. Never in his life would Mike have believed that the notorious Harvey Specter would show emotion, besides that one time they were smoking pot in his apartment. "Izzy wanted to see Travis, I told her that he didn't have time, like always and Charlie, he's been so angry ever since we split up. I just, the light was green when we drove off and it, I only just turned my head to look at Charlie. Next thing I know both my kids are standing outside, next to the car with the EMTs while the FDNY is pulling apart my car."
"Okay, please don't think I'm being rude but I have to ask." the associate started, earning raised eyebrows from his boss. "Were you drinking or taking medication that would lead to any failure of sight or control of your body." 
Shaking her head, Elle turned back to the lawyer and his protégé. "There were no drugs and no alcohol, the only thing I took was some mild medication for my headache."
"That, that's good. We can work with that. We'll have to check the traffic cameras, there might be something there that police missed in the beginning." Mike told her, adjusting his shoulder bag before both Harvey and he stood up. "We'll get back to you as soon as we got something for the case." 
The lawyer buttoned up his jacket and nodded at his associate to wait outside. "I'll be right there, Mike." 
"I'm glad he finally got his life together." Elle said, looking over at the closed front door. 
Clearing his throat, Harvey watched the mother-of-two. "How have you been doing?" It had been a while since he saw her but she hadn't changed one bit. "It's been a while, Elle."
"I got married to a dick head, he screwed me over with his secretary and now he took my kids away. I'd say I'm doing quite good." she pointed out, crossing her arms in front of her chest. 
He shoved his hands into his pants pockets, knowing if he'd move just one muscle he'd compromise everything they'd need to work for. "I'm sorry about Tanner, I had the privilege to meet him twice now and the last time I decked him." 
"Good for you, Harvey, he probably deserved it." Elle whispered, not knowing how to act around him. "So - uhm - do you think I got a chance to get my kids back?" 
"We're going to try everything in our power to win this." 
She raised her eyebrows at the dark haired lawyer. "Try?" 
"Do." he corrected, "We'll do everything to win. Mike is the best and brightest associate Pearson Hardman ever had." 
Giving him a small smile. "I'm glad you took my case. I trust Mike, and I trust you. All I want you to do is give it your best, I don't want my kids ending up with a foster family." 
"I promise." Harvey said moving toward the door, opening it and watching his associate fidget in the hallway. "Ready to tackle Tanner?" 
Mike turned to his boss, already seeing the determination written across his face. "We're tackling him?" 
"He ain't gonna know what hit him." 
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fly-pow-bye · 3 years
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What’s Airing On Cartoon Network? (October 2021)
It’s Spooky Month, and that means we get some Halloween specials. That won’t be all, though; DC Super Hero Girls, more Teen Titans Go, more Total Dramarama, more Victor and Valentino, some more episodes from the HBO Max shows, and an Apple & Onion episode that doesn’t seem to be Halloween related at all but is airing alongside the specials. More after the break.
Apple & Onion
October 28th:
Eyesore a Sunset - Art is subjective and Apple and Onion agree to let that get between them. (7:00 PM)
Craig of the Creek
The Legend of the Library - When the library is thrown into disarray, an ancient ghost is awoken. (7:00 PM)
DC Super Hero Girls
October 3rd:
#DetentionClub - Five socially disparate teens, Hal, Pam, Kara, Zee and Garth, find they have more in common than they thought after spending a Saturday in detention. (8:00 AM)
#SmallVictories - A malfunctioning device shrinks Karen into the Microverse, leaving technophobic Diana as her only hope. (8:15 AM)
October 10th:
#CruzControl - Working toward her dream of making her school a better place, Jessica runs for class president. However, when her opponent, the corrupt Oswald Cobblepot, pulls ahead in the race using less-than-honest means, Jessica finds herself compromising the integrity of her honest campaign to beat him! (8:00 AM)
#WhySoBlue - Supergirl must rein in a reckless new hero, the Blue Beetle. (8:15 AM)
October 17th:
#OneEnchantedEvening - Zee worries that Zatara is lonely and volunteers to play matchmaker for her dad. But when her meddlesome match-matching accidentally sets her dad up with an old enemy, Zee must find a way to fix the mess she made! (8:00 AM)
#TheAquamanCometh - For months, Garth's been sending Aquaman letters that greatly exaggerate his accomplishments in Metropolis, so when the King of Atlantis comes for a surprise visit, Garth begs the Super Hero Girls to help cover for his little white lies. (8:15 AM)
October 24th:
#NightmareInGotham - Babs and Harleen bring the Girls to Gotham City to celebrate Halloween! However, the fun is put on hold when the SuperHero Girls run into Gotham's most notorious SuperVillain. (8:00 AM)
Jellystone!
October 2nd:
VIP Baby You Know Me - Shag wants to live a VIP lifestyle but borrowing Mudbug Café’s money turns out to be a huge mistake. (9:30 AM)
El Kabong's Kabong Is Gone - El Kabong must find a new “weapon” to replace his broken guitar. (9:45 AM)
October 9th:
Mr. Flabby Dabby Wabby Jabby - The kids go to a grownup movie in disguise, but things get out of hand when they're mistaken for the real Mr. Flabby Dabby Wabby Jabby. (9:30 AM)
Ice Ice Daddy - After realizing he's a father, Captain Caveman dedicates himself to being the best dad. (9:45 AM)
October 16th:
DNA, A-OK! - After finding out he's 98% cat, Yogi tries to roll with Top Cat and his gang, but he has a hard time fitting in. (9:30 AM)
Face of the Town! - Mayor Huckleberry holds a contest to find the new face of Jellystone. (9:45 AM)
October 23rd:
Catanooga Cheese Explosion - Yogi strikes a deal with Shag Rugg so he can get into Cheese-Is-Us. (9:30 AM)
Squish or Miss - Augie and the rest of the Jellystone kids try to help Yakky be braver. (9:45 AM)
October 30th:
Gotta Kiss Them All - When Augie and Yakky discover a fun VR game while repairing Ruff and Ready, they wind up blurring the lines between fiction and reality. (9:30 AM)
Jelly Wrestle Rumble! - Huckleberry hosts a wrestling tournament so Funky Phantom can relive his glory days. (9:45 AM)
Teen Titans Go!
October 2nd:
Doomsday Preppers - The Tower is in lockdown and supplies are being gathered, as the Titans prepare for Doomsday. (9:00 AM)
October 9th:
Fat Cats - After winning a huge cash prize, the Titans learn about the IRS and taxes. (9:00 AM)
October 16th:
Jam - Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, and Catwoman recruit Starfire and Raven for their roller derby team. (9:00 AM)
October 23rd:
DC - It's Wonder Woman's 80th birthday, so the Titans head to DC Headquarters for the party. (9:00 AM)
October 27th:
Pepo the Pumpkinman - A magic hat brings the Titans' pumpkinman to life, but they have to figure out how to keep Pepo from rotting. (7:00 PM)
Tig N Seek
Unlike Jellystone, Cartoon Network is airing episodes of this in a random order.
October 1st:
Tiny Tiggy Tennis - In his quest to find a game he can actually win, Tiggy stumbles upon a table tennis set; Tiggy wants to schedule a match against Boss. (8:00 PM)
Just Kitten - Tig can't get Seek to stop distracting him, but after she finds a new prime spot, Tiggy must deal with his feelings of jealousy and abandonment. (8:15 PM)
October 8th:
An Easy Fix - After Tiggy questions Nurtiza's handy-rabbit skills, the two trade places; Tiggy discovers the job of fixing things comes with a lot more challenges than finding things. (8:00 PM)
Game Over - In an after-school special spoof, an obsession with an arcade game pushes Tig and Seek past the brink of sanity. (8:15 PM)
October 15th:
The Decider - When Boss and Nuritza fight over a large pencil, Tiggy must decide who keeps it. (8:00 PM)
Within The Walls - When Gweeseek disappears within the office walls to investigate a possible haunting, Tiggy and This Guy become convinced she's been taken by a spirit. (8:15 PM)
October 22nd:
TBA
October 29th:
TBA
Total Dramarama
October 2nd:
Quiche it Goodbye - When an "evil conglomerate" is threatening to takeover Chef's favorite childhood restaurant, Owen rallies the kids to take them down. (10:00 AM)
October 9th:
Ice Guys Finish Last - Chef brings a souvenir iceberg home from a trip to the South Pole and Duncan finds a prehistoric surprise inside. (10:00 AM)
October 16th:
Trousering Inferno - The Bad Guy Busters must reunite to save Izzy after Harold uncovers her previous identity and leads a supervillain from her past right to her. (10:00 AM)
October 23rd:
The Big Bangs Theory - Chef forgets the password for his computer but knows it has something to do with one of the 99 previous explosions that took out the school. Entering the wrong password will cause the school to blow up for the 100th time. (10:00 AM)
October 29th:
Gwen Scary, Gwen Lost - When Chef discovers his spooky Halloween pranks have never scared the kids he's devastated. Determined to get them this year, he agrees to hand over full control of his pranking to Gwen. Her plan turns out far spookier than Chef ever hoped. (7:00 PM)
Victor And Valentino
October 2nd:
The Bodyguard - When Don becomes part of Tez's Jaguar Patrol squad, Victor and Valentino are determined to get him fired by any means necessary. (10:30 AM)
October 9th:
Miguelito the Mosquito - When Miguelito begins to outshine Victor as the town daredevil, Vic attempts to sabotage him in order to bring the attention back to himself. (10:30 AM)
October 16th:
Plan-De-Monium - Val has meticulously planned for the perfect day of activities with Isabella, but his rigid insistence on sticking to the itinerary make for a less than perfect experience. (10:30 AM)
October 23th:
Bone Bike - Victor and Valentino must tame a wild, living motorcycle made of bones, to win Mic and Hun's Underworld grand-prix: The Muerto Race! (10:30 AM)
October 26th:
PuzzleMaster - Victor, Valentino, Charlene and Pineapple awaken to find themselves in a bizarre and scary series of puzzle rooms where the rules are simple: escape or cease to exist! (7:00 PM)
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justimagineitblog · 4 years
Text
“You Used To Love Me” Michael Gray Fan Fiction - Chapter 4
A/N:  Hi loves! Chapter 4 is a longggggg one so strap in and get some rum, whiskey, tea, coffee, water, hot chocolate, whatever works and settle in for this one x 
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When I walk into the pub, Tommy freezes in his spot.
He hasn’t seen me yet since Michael’s gracious return this morning. And I guess he assumed I wouldn’t be coming in for this shift.
He feel him watching me nervously as I begin my usual work routine, setting up the bar, straightening out all the chairs, wiping down all the tables. I can’t even bring myself to look at him.
“Izzy I-“
He stops immediately when I shake my head. With tears in my eyes threatening to spill already.
“I can’t, Tommy” I breathe
He nods sullenly, walking over to place a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“We had no idea about Gina… he’s just shown up after 6 fucking months and-“
“Tommy, please” I cut him off “I can’t talk about it-”
“Okay” he steps back, giving me some space “But just listen to me, just for a moment yeah? You’re still our girl. Our family. We’re all on your side, eh. Me, Poll, Arthur”
I nod, closing my eyes.
Of course they are. They’re just as shocked as I am. Up until this morning we were all in the dark about Michael. Where he was. What he was doing. I guess in a way, we all still are.
“I know” I sigh. Hearing him say those words stings, when I know that in 6 hours time I’ll closing up the bar for the last time and handing him my apron.
“Poll got a call this morning, from Michael, saying he was arriving to Birmingham in an hour, with someone for her to meet. First time she’d heard from him since he left. She’s been crying, I saw her. Says she can’t believe her own son would do something like this. Say’s she keeps seeing your face when you first saw him again-“
“Did he say why?” I question, un able to help myself from asking. It’s not like I haven’t been wondering that all day anyway.
Tommy shakes his head “Poll lost her shit. We all did. Told Gina all about you. About you and Michael. But he just fucking stood there… like a fucking ghost”
“Yeah, I know the look” I reply, flashing back to the cold, dead stare in Michael’s eyes.
“You know you don’t have to work tonight you can go home eh, try and rest, I’ll see you tomorrow night”
I clench my jaw, wishing he’d never said that. I can’t avoid it now.
“I won’t be in tomorrow, Tom” I begin, looking up at the ceiling and hoping that some God might just finally strike me down once and for all.
How am I supposed to do this.
I thought I had reached my limits of what I can bare this morning, but life seems to have decided that today is my ultimate test. If my sanity is still remotely in tact tomorrow, it will be a fucking miracle.
“If you need to take a few days Izzy it’s fine, Finn can cover for you. It’s about time he start leaning how to pour beer anyway-“ Tommy replies sympathetically, not understanding what I’m trying to say.
“No, Tom, I won’t be back tomorrow because I’m not coming back” I hold my breath “Today is my last shift”
Every word was harder than the next, as I forced myself to drag them up and out of my mouth.
Part of me wants this. Part of me want’s to run away from any place where I might see Michael. Jesus, I can’t believe I’m even thinking this but maybe this was the silver lining in him having the audacity to ask me to quit to stay out of his and Gina’s way. Because I won’t have to face seeing them together either. But actually say it, doing it, and breaking it to Tommy like this is incredibly painful.
“Oh” he breathes slowly.
Slowly, I begin to undo my apron. I can’t do this. I need to get out of here. I need to go home. Let my bed and whatever alcohol I have swallow me up. I don’t know how long for. And I don’t care.
“I’m sorry” I say in a harsh exhale as I hand him the apron.
He shakes his head, looking down at the floor almost like he’s to ashamed of how his cousin has broken my heart to look at me. He reaches for my hand to squeeze “No, I’m sorry”
Unable to hold back the tears that have been biting at my already red and glassy eyes, I quickly rush past him, my hand slipping out of his grip.
~ 3 DAYS LATER ~
The next 3 days are a drunken stupor. Coming in and out of consciousness. In and out of sleep, to eat a mouthful of something before washing it down with another mouthful of something strong.
It’s not until the 4th day when I’m woken at 7am by the sound of kids laughing and shouting as they play a game of cricket below my window. I try to muffle it by smothering myself with my pillow, but irritation and anger when it doesn’t go away draws me out of bed. I shuffle over to my window and slam it shut, earning looks from the children, before they forget seconds later and go back to playing.
From there I head straight to the kitchen. An Irish coffee constitutes as a nutritional breakfast, right?
As I let the kettle boil, I open my cupboard for my tried and true whiskey. And I find it… but I find it empty. Luckily that is, knowing in the back of my mind that I’m one more drink away from a hospital visit. But in that moment, I could have smashed the bottle over my kitchen counter in a tired, hangover fuelled rage.
Don’t they always say the cure for a hangover is more alcohol? Or have I just been around drunks at the pub too long?
I sigh. The pub. Over the past few days I have racked up a decent amount of memories that I wish to never remember. One of them, was seeing Michael… shortly followed by seeing his new wife Gina… then coming up at a close third is having to tell Tommy that I was quitting without any explanation why. That’s what the alcohol was for. To forget all that.
Now that I don’t have any alcohol left to immediately distract myself, I’m forced to really take in my surroundings. I look at my kitchen painfully as I count the bottles on my counter. Five. Empty. Bottles. I drank all that.
Jesus Christ, maybe I really am a Shelby.
God Michael would die if he saw this. Part of the reason he cherished me was because I wasn’t like his family. I loved them. I fit in with them. But I still had ‘a humanness to me’, as he called it one day. ‘A kindness.’ He said I kept him soft in a world lacking it. He’d only seen me truly drunk once. I was never a big drinker. I guess I’m not that girl anymore. Just like he’s not the Michael I knew anymore. I guess the only commonality we have anymore is our… dissimilarity.
The irony.
Unable to drink now, and sure as hell not leaving my apartment in this state, I spent the rest of the day moving slowly. Picking up whatever pieces of myself that I can. Showering. Changing clothes. Cleaning up what looks like a bomb site.
When night falls, and I realise I haven’t been shopping days and don’t have enough food to make anything decent, I decide it’s time to leave the house. Beside’s, everyone is going to be inside eating with their families and loved ones, and it’s dark enough anyway to hide myself in the shadows to avoid being seen.
With my biggest coat wrapped around me tightly, and an over the phone take away order placed at a restaurant down town, I head out into night. The cool, night air feels nice, like a splash of cold water on my face, and I’m so sure that I won’t have to face anyone that I begin to relax.
But of course I couldn’t really relax, could I. Because sitting inside the restaurant with a friend, is Polly Gray.
I pause in my tracks, almost tripping over from stopping so suddenly. I want to turn around and run the other way, immediately. And nothing is stopping me, besides the fact that I have nothing to goddamn eat.
“Fuck” I hiss to myself as I keep my head down, angling it away from her as I quickly slip into the restaurant doors.
“An order for Isabelle” I say urgently in a hushed voice at the counter as the worker greets me.
“Good evening ma’am” he grins eagerly as I hand him the money.
“I’ll just get your change” he nods joyfully and I grab my food. Daring to turn around, I peak over my shoulder to find that Polly is already looking at me. Once we make eye contact her eyes widen in shock and begins to stand up, making her way to me.
“Shit, shit, shit” I hiss, grabbing the food from the man quickly and beginning to walk out of the restaurant.
“Ma’am your change!” He calls after me
“Keep it!” I call back as I pick up the pace, jogging out the doors and into the street. I hear Polly’s voice call after me, and I hold my food close to me as I keep jogging, praying she will give up.
“Isabelle stop!” She shouts, and I slow to a stop. My head falls back as I sigh in defeat.
She finally catches up to me and I turn around to face her, but avoid eye contact.
“Izzy it’s me, what are you doing?” She asks as she catches her breath, staring at me in bewilderment.
God I can’t do this. I can’t. I’ve missed Polly so much. I’ve missed Tommy. I’ve missed the pub. Arthur. Finn. Michael. But I can’t be around them. Michael asked me to stay out of his and Gina’s way. I can’t do that if I’m still seeing everyone in the family. And it’s breaking my own heart.
“I just can’t talk right now Polly” I shake my head, praying for this to be over. For her to just accept that and go back to her dinner.
“Isabelle I’m worried about you, no one has seen you for day’s. Tommy said you quit the pub… Isabelle did Michael put you up to this-“
“No” I cut her off immediately. I’m lying. I know I am. But what difference does it make if I tell her Michael told me to keep out of everyones way. That will only make her and everyone hate him even more. And I can’t stand to see them all lose Michael the same way I did. I would never wish that upon them.
“Just talk to me darling-“
“No Polly,” I snap. Not out of anger, but out of sadness. Pain. I know what I have to do. What I have to say to make her stay away from me and fulfil Michael’s wish. But it’s going to kill me to do it. I take a deep breath as she waits for me to speak nervously. What’s that saying. Be cruel to be kind? I have to be cruel, I have to pushing them away. It’s easier to push them away. It’s better for everyone. Then Michael can live with Gina, the Shelby’s can be at peace without me around.
“I don’t want anything to do with your son, or your family. Have I not made that clear enough. I am not your family. I am not a Shelby. Now please leave me alone”
Polly stares at me, mouth open but no words following. I fight to keep her eye contact. To not falter. So that she think’s I’m serious about this. But it hurts. Never did I think I would have to be breaking her heart like this. I can see it breaking, I can see it in her eyes.
Is this what I looked like? Is this what Michael saw when he broke mine?
“I have to go” I manage to say before turning on my heels swiftly, leaving her standing in the street alone.
TAGLIST
@shadow-of-wonder
@marvelismylifffe​ 
@saintfootball​
@haphazardhufflepuff​ 
@peaky-things​
@burnitup​
@swweett-insanityyy​
@ganjeolhiddaeng​
@thoughtfulfreakalpaca​ 
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piratewithvigor · 4 years
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The Big Five
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Summary: A newcomer to L.A., Y/N isn’t much for anonymous sexual encounters, but there are 5 exceptions.
Word Count: 1530
A/N: @niksixx​ and her story Number 73 spurred a big list of comments and ideas and I got this idea as a result of the discussion. Also my first attempt for a reader insert, so we’ll see how this goes. 
It’d been a lifelong dream of mine to move to California. The beaches were my original motivation when I was really young. My landlocked home state offered no such luxuries and they were too far away to visit, save for a few very special family vacations through the years. As I got older, the music scene began to be my enticement. Beaches were nice and all, but the guys who walked them were somehow growing nicer in my eyes. 
My Sweet 16 Birthday trip was when I decided I had to make a place for myself in LA. They were my kind of people. The crazies, the weird, the musicians, the lovers, the dreamers, the shakers, the movers… It was my city. The trip had taken months to save up for, both on my and Y/B/F’s parts, but on our final day, we made a pact that we’d return in a few years, with more savings. Enough to carve ourselves out a little place in the city. 
It took a while. A lot longer than either of us anticipated when we were thinking with our dream-clogged teenaged brains, but we made it a reality. The jobs we found after we made the move weren’t great, and neither was the apartment we were sharing, but it was our new home. Two bedrooms, a bathroom and a communal room that connected the entryway with pretty much everything else. At first, I’d been skeptical over getting a two-bedroom instead of saving a little by sharing a bedroom. Once Y/B/F started getting her nails into the beach boys we ogled as kids, I was only rueing not getting more rooms between us. 
That wasn’t to say she was the only one having all the fun. I was much more careful about getting myself into situations, but I slipped up once or twice. Or exactly five times, as Y/B/F liked to remind me. Five anonymous, deeply animalistic, frequently kinky, occasionally intimate sexual encounters. I never took them to our place. I never got so carefree that I trusted the hookups with my address. That was something only official boyfriends got to know. Y/B/F could always just tell what I’d gotten up to. My walk of shame was painfully obvious, but never so shameful that she didn’t press for details over breakfast. 
I knew the first one was going to be a hit-and-run the moment I saw him. He was the California man I was mentally lusting over since the idea first hit me. Long hair, eyes that oozed sex appeal once he caught you in his gaze, and had likely fucked everything with legs in that bar, stools and tables included. A second shot gave me the nerve to go over to him, but it turned out to not be needed. He was on the stool beside me at the bar once I turned to go over. I can’t remember what we said, only that his unfairly deep voice was lowering my inhibitions more than the alcohol ever could. Less than an hour later, I was gripping handfuls of his soft red hair and he was fucking the last of my coherency away. He was the first, and Y/B/F spent the next month pointing out every ginger she could to try and find the man whose name I couldn’t remember if I tried to get herself a taste of the honey.
Number two was different in every way imaginable. He was the California man I would have pictured as a kid. Blonde, toned, smiling brighter than the sun, and giving me the feeling that he could have been my best friend in the world. He probably could have been if I hadn’t left his place in a hurry after realising that it was Monday morning, and not Sunday morning, like I had thought. His address melted away from my memory with the hangover and by the next weekend, I was just hoping I’d never see him again, way too embarrassed to have been the one to run away before the other woke up without even a note. 
My desperate attempts to avoid blondie coincidentally knocked me into the arms of number three, whose name, I learned, was Duff. His was the first name I learned, but I was never sure if he was fucking around with me or not. I’d been staring across the room at the back of his head for so long, debating if it was in fact blondie or if I was just being paranoid. His own paranoia made him look back at me a few times and eventually stalk towards me, demanding why I was staring. I wanted to laugh off the mistake, but so many things about him caught me off-guard that I couldn’t do anything besides chuckle awkwardly. I didn’t intend to go home with Duff, but he lured me in quick and mercilessly. I left him my number, but without him calling back, he was resigned to number three.
Number four was the first encounter that came from a completely clear head. Clear from alcohol, anyway. Turns out, adrenaline is a mighty powerful aphrodisiac. LA had gotten me fairly used to regular catcalls. Catcalls, and sometimes even being followed down the street, Somehow, it never got me used to a stranger nearby turning onto my catcaller and threatening him with a new pet snake he had been carrying fairly secretly under his pile of hair. He insisted I come up to his apartment so I could call someone and he could make sure I wasn’t alone going home. He would, he said, but his snake needed to be fed immediately and not left unsupervised in a brand new environment. The call kept getting pushed further back as he introduced me to all his snakes, later including the one in his pants. Y/B/F didn’t say anything when she picked me up, but her eye roll spoke volumes. 
The siren call of the music scene had been beckoning me for ages, but I had always sworn to myself that I would never sleep with a guy just because he was a musician. That was a major fucking lie. Why wouldn’t I want to sleep with a guy who had dedicated his life to moving his fingers as swiftly and precisely as possible? It made number five a dream come true. He didn’t even need to bring me home to turn me into a mess inside and out. Innocent gazes and hands slipped under my skirt were all I needed at the table, and once he pulled me into the band’s dressing room, he got his turn. 
I’d hooked up other times, of course, but they were the only five I never heard from again. Never saw again, either, even when I was looking for them. It didn’t discourage me from still having fun. The only thing that did was the sounds of Y/B/F and her new boy toy duking it out all night every night. I knew I was just as bad when I got my shot at them, but it was almost depressing every time I came home empty-handed. After the third week of going out with nothing to show for it, Y/B/F almost had to drag me out for the last Friday of the month. 
“Is it a crime to just want to stay in on a Friday night for once?”
“It is when the only reason for that is because you keep striking out. It’s not happening tonight,” she insisted as we stood in line for the club.
“What makes you so sure?”
“Five bands tonight, including Izzy’s. With four to five guys per band, that’ll make twenty to twenty-five guys desperate to score with a hot piece of ass like you.”
“And a hundred girls for other options.”
“So you might get sloppy seconds tonight. At least you’ll get some,” she shrugged as we entered. I hadn’t met her boyfriend, Izzy, yet. Our schedules only seemed to line up when they were in bed together, and I had absolutely no desire to meet a guy right before or right after he scored. The only reason I had allowed her to take me out tonight was because this was his band’s biggest bill to date. Sure, they had to share it with other bands, but the crowd was going to be worth it. According to her, the other four guys in his band were almost as cute. 
We took our spots in the front row. With Izzy’s band opening, we had to be at the top of our game. Cheerleading was the name of the game. If they were actually good, it would be all the easier. 
The anticipation was eating me alive, but was promptly replaced with a mixture of nausea and arousal when Guns N Roses, as they called themselves, took the stage. My knees buckled the instant I caught a glimpse of the red hair. Ginger didn’t seem to take much notice of me, but Duff, Blondie, Snake Boy and Izzy all seemed to get the same kind of realisation I did when our eyes met. The Big Five. All together as a band.
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For if they return they were always yours
For @aceon-ice​
Summary: The tightness in her chest, the coiling coldness in her gut, the force in her lungs, preventing her from exhaling properly; it’s been a blessing framed as a curse, or a curse disguised in pleasure. Even now, she’s not sure.Her head is; stubborn, proud, unwilling to sacrifice another part of herself. Unlike her heart; brave, but foolish, vigorous, but vincible, always hoping, close to unhinged surety that the next person she offers it to, will not strike, crush, or break it.She longs for that someone by her side, someone she can trust, count on, be comfortable with, and know, no matter the troubles, hardships, or challenges they'll face, they won’t forsake her.
A/N: Hello AceOnIce, I chose a fic for Lydia/Izzy, because I adore them, and I hope you can enjoy this. It's my first fic where they are the main couple, and I was hesitant, scared to mess up, but I really enjoyed writing it. <3
Read it on ao3: HERE
The shine of the blade hits her eyes as she moves it to polish the other side, her motions stilling as her mind drifts to memories, treasured, but painful.
Her fingers brush long blond hair from her lover’s naked shoulder, her skin shining golden in the candle light. She trails her fingers along her spine, down to the small dent of her lower back, and follows with her lips the same path upwards again.
She can feel the tremors in her lover’s body, hear the small sounds of pleasure, even the smile on her lips. She shifts around towards her, gray blue eyes locking with her own, a hand cupping her neck, pulling her closer, and she loses herself in fervent kisses.
The tightness in her chest, the coiling coldness in her gut, the force in her lungs, preventing her from exhaling properly; it’s been a blessing framed as a curse, or a curse disguised in pleasure. Even now, she’s not sure.
Her head is; stubborn, proud, unwilling to sacrifice another part of herself. Unlike her heart; brave, but foolish, vigorous, but vincible, always hoping, close to unhinged surety that the next person she offers it to, will not strike, crush, or break it.
She longs for that someone by her side, someone she can trust, count on, be comfortable with, and know, no matter the troubles, hardships, or challenges they'll face, they won’t forsake her.
She wants someone like Magnus, or Clary, devoting themselves to her brothers, unconditionally.
No one has ever given themselves to her unconditionally, and it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, a toxic fracture in her heart, and endless thoughts of self-doubts, and feelings of inferiority. As if something inside her is simply wrong, and somehow, everyone knows, and leaves after taking her apart, a little at a time.
Lydia was never going to be hers. Everything about them was doomed from the start. She was a typical product of The Clave. Actually, she was a rather perfect creation. And Izzy hated her, for all the obvious reasons, but even more so, for the way she saw her own faults, prejudices, and failures reflected in her.
Thanks to Magnus, Luke, Raphael, and other Downworlders, Izzy realised that she had a long way to go before she could truly pride herself in an ally. She knew she couldn’t have escaped The Clave’s visions, not her parents’, not every Shadowhunter’s she ever had dealings with, had to learn from, but she always thought she was somehow… better.
Oddly, only through meeting, and getting to know Lydia Branwell, did Izzy really see her own shortcomings, and misconceptions. She was, and still is, grateful for that. She’s done more growing in the past year, than in all her life before that.
And she realised how exhausting, and excruciating taking yourself apart bit by bit is. To be brutally honest with herself about herself, everything she’s done, and even more so, the things she failed to do.
She’s especially thankful to her friends who helped her along this harsh journey, taught her, and opened her eyes in many ways, as well as her family, and some other Shadowhunters who felt that the old ways weren’t as golden as they were made out to be.
But she hadn’t expected Lydia Branwell to be one of them. Izzy had almost playfully cursed her beauty, because even though she was determined to hate this Clave envoy with all her might, she had two very well functioning eyes, and Lydia was sheer gorgeous.
When Izzy felt particularly petty, she even cursed her for that. But things changed, too fast for her mind to catch up. Suddenly, Lydia was on their side, and with that, on the side of innocent Downworlders they wanted to protect.
Izzy was never especially good at letting hate consume her, which some said to be one of her greatest strengths, and so animosity turned into sufferance, turned into acceptance, and surprising affection.
And soon her heart throbbed the moment Lydia entered a room, talked, smiled, and accidentally, or purposely, touched her. Even when they argued, and they did that a lot. But it helped them work out their differences in many aspects, and she just felt closer, and more drawn to her.
And when she found that she wasn’t the only one who made up reasons to spend more time together, she leapt into the feeling, into her arms, and bed.
And she was determined to have no more regrets.
She feels a blissful heaviness throughout her body, permeating her wholly, arms closing around her, rolling her over on her side, her naked body pressing into her lover’s, sheen with sweat.
Soft, thin strands of blond hair are sticking to Lydia’s face, she tries to blow from her eye, her face changing into mesmerizing laughter as she fails.
Izzy grins, and caresses all of her disturbing hair away, leaning in to press a kiss on the corner of Lydia’s smiling mouth, just to be hugged tighter, and kissed harder.
“You know,” Izzy’s head is comfortable on Lydia’s warm stomach, an arm wrapped over her, Lydia’s fingers gliding through her long, unruly hair, sending prickles along her neck, down her spine, she delights in.
“We’ve spent every night together for almost ten days.” Izzy continues, not sure why this thought took hold of her, but there’s always a reason.
“Yes, we have. And it’s been good.” Lydia says, her forefinger slowly running down Izzy’s brow and nose.
“Mmmm, yeah. Wouldn’t you like it to stay this way?” Izzy asks, sudden surprise and realisation taking her breath away.
“Even if I did, Izzy, it won’t. We won’t be here forever. Nothing is ever certain in our lives, but that things will always change.”
Izzy knew she would say something like that, there was no other option, even. Not for them. And, yet, a flicker of hope for something else was born the moment she asked, now extinguished, casting a shadow in her mind, chasing away her rare moment of levity.
She never said anything regarding this topic again afterwards, knowing how Lydia would react, knowing that hearing it from her lips would hurt even more. They were… something, but not everything, and once again, she had to accept that. She just wasn’t enough, for Lydia, or anyone, or maybe, what Alec and Jace found, was simply too rare, and most other Shadowhunters wouldn’t. She had to accept it.
Even when she knew she fell in love with Lydia, completely, she still had to accept that she was the only one, and that she was the one who would have to nurture another broken heart, once Lydia broke it off, or was sent away.
Or accepted a higher position at the Institute in Rome, with a very good chance to be promoted again.
Izzy knew that it was Lydia’s greatest wish, and ambition, and that she would always choose her head over her heart, and her career over a relationship. Izzy even understood it, to a point, but it still crushed her bone-deep to hear the words.
Lydia was leaving, and she would be happy with the decision. And Izzy had no say in the matter, and she couldn’t ask her to stay, would never plead, would not show how much it hurt, more so than she had anticipated, but it may as well.
She wished her all the best, smiled somehow, and left.
That was four months ago, and a lot had changed, again, just as Lydia said. Izzy was going to be the new Head of the New York Institute, because she too, had to put her career before anything else, because, again, she was proven wrong to want something else.
She hadn’t really talked to anyone about it, but she knew her brothers, and friends, knew, and she knew she could have cried and be comforted by them, but instead, she was grateful for Jace, and Clary’s willingness to train with her every day, and Alec’s insight into her new position, as well as Magnus, and Raphael’s teachings of more she had yet to learn, wanting to be the very best role model she could be, especially for the new generation.
Izzy blinks, the shine of the blade she’s gripped in her hands before her eyes, irritating them suddenly. She inhales, exhales, and puts the blade away, then cleans her work station.
She’s been here, on her own, for the past five evenings, just cleaning weapons, thinking, trying to unravel some of the knots in her mind. She knows she’ll be okay, generally. She knows what she has to do, must put forward, and still learn, and she knows it will never end.
And maybe, the void, sometimes filled with sadness, sometimes anger, sometimes loneliness, guilt, or pride, will become smaller in time. She can’t but try, one day at a time.
The door is suddenly pulled open, Jace storming inside, his expression grave, letting her know something bad happened.
Lydia is here, and she’s badly hurt. She was brought by two Shadowhunters who had been working with her in Rome, but Izzy can’t focus on that. She races to the infirmary, Jace on her heels, blood draining from her face as she sees her lying on the white bed, her face ashen, bruised, and bloody.
“She made us promise to take her here should anything happen to her.” Izzy isn’t able to look at the other two women in the room, her brain barely catching up with their words.
There was a demon attack, a big one, and Lydia got hurt. Izzy feels paralyzed, unable to do anything but keep staring at Lydia’s face, her eyes shut. She doesn’t even know if she’s breathing.
She suddenly feels a hand on her shoulder, and becomes aware of Jace behind her. “Iz.” She shakes her head slowly, forces air into her lungs, and steps forward, her whole being trembling.
People are rushing in and out, but she hardly notices, unable to take her eyes and mind off of Lydia’s face. Izzy’s hand shivers as she touches Lydia’s wrist, to find her pulse, weak. But alive. Time loses its meaning.
She blinks, warm, dark eyes meeting hers, a soft, compassionate smile. Magnus’ hands are moving slowly above Lydia’s motionless body, light-blue magic curling around them, into her.
Izzy doesn’t know who called him, or since when he’s been here, her eyes filling with unshed tears, her chest tight with gratitude, hope, and fear. She doesn’t know if she’s breathing herself.
“Give her some time now, darling, she needs lots of rest.” Magnus leans down, kisses her head, and makes to go, but Izzy catches his hand, clutches it tightly, looking up at him, feeling small, and fragile for a moment, not knowing what to say, her lips quivering.
“Thank you.” She thinks she might break down and cry, but she doesn’t, and he smiles at her, squeezes her hand, and leaves her alone with Lydia sleeping like before.
Except, Izzy notices finally, there’s more color in her cheeks, and the cuts and bruises have healed. There’s just some crusted blood. She gets a warm, moist cloth, and carefully wipes it off of her brow, and temple, suddenly stopping as her eyes swim with hot tears.
She moves backwards, turns away and takes a few deep breaths, fighting for composure. She puts the cloth away, and sits down again on the chair she’s been occupying for hours. She just can’t seem to move away.
She startles, not having realised she’s been drifting, her eyes taking in Alec’s face, bent down next to her. She blinks, fatigue keeping her mind hazy.
“Go get some rest, Iz, I’ll sit with her.”
Izzy turns, a rush of memories clearing her mind, staring at Lydia’s face. She’s sleeping, Izzy hopes. She’s breathing. That’s all that matters for now.
“Go on.” Alec prompts her, takes her hand gently, and pulls her off of the chair. Her body feels stiff and cold.
“No, I- I want to stay, I-”
“Just for a little while, I’ll call you immediately if anything changes.” She meets her brother’s gaze, warm, concerned, probing. She nods vaguely, but she can’t agree completely.
“I’ll just take a shower, then I’ll be back.” She knows he wants to argue, but changes his mind, smiles softly, and nods.
Her shoulders sag as she leans against the closed door outside, her head low. She feels surreal, exhausted. But there’s no time to waste. She walks the halls to her room, her boots the loudest sound around a quiet institute. It’s 1am, she notices as her gaze passes a clock, but she doesn’t care for that.
She strips, fastens her long, straight hair in a high bun, and steps under the warm water. She waits for a minute, turns it hot, waits another minute, and turns it cold, the shudders all over her body waking her up more.
She hasn’t really been able to think, but now, as she’s lathering soap over her body, her mind wanders to the start. To those Shadowhunters that brought Lydia here. She made us promise to take her here if anything happened to her.
It’s more than unusual, curious. Why would Lydia make them promise that? Why would she want to come here? It’s too strange. She can’t ask them now, as they had to leave right away. She wonders how their superiors reacted to their report. Or why no one tried to contact them - or, they might as well have, but no one told her. That’s more likely. She doesn’t care right now.
She only cares for Lydia to open her eyes, and talk to her. Explain. Just as long as she’ll be okay. Izzy rinses herself, steps out, grabs a towel and flings it around her body, walking back to her bedroom to find some casual, warm clothes.
She glances at her bed for a moment, but even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Instead she takes her stele and activates her runes to get herself through the night awake.
She slips into sneakers, fastens her hair in a neat ponytail, and heads back to the infirmary. Alec looks up, not really surprised to see her back so soon. He would do the same, be the same, so he has no leeway to reprimand her, anyway.
He stays with them for a while, quietly. She knows she could talk if she wanted to, and there are things she might want to ask him, should even, but she really only wants to stay here like this. Not talking, listening to Lydia’s quiet breathing, watching her chest rise and fall.
At some point she reaches for her hand, and tenderly takes it into hers. Her skin feels warmer, not as clammy as before. Izzy feels relief. But she has to wake up, yet.
She sends Alec home after an hour, promising to let him know if anything happens, or if she needs him. She should be the one to be here with her. She wants to be, needs to be. No matter the outcome.
~~~
She becomes aware of something touching her hair, startling her into an upright position. She didn’t exactly fall asleep, but put her head down next to Lydia’s torso, closing her eyes, her mind drifting here and there.
Newborn daylight floods in through the windows, but Izzy blinks several times, though Lydia’s eyes are open, focused on her, her fingers slightly touching her hand.
“You’re awake!” Her mind is excited, anxious, suddenly on overdrive, trying to tell her what to do, what to think, but all she’s able to do is stare at her.
“I am.” Lydia’s voice is rough, and quiet, but alert, and Izzy knows she knows who she is, and where she is, and probably also what happened.
“Are you hurting?” It’s all Izzy can ask while she’s trying to catch up. Her mind is reeling, and there is so much she wants to know, but she has to reign herself in, one thing at a time.
Lydia thinks for a moment, her body moving lightly in places under the blanket. “A little sore, much better than I should be. Magnus?”
Izzy just nods, unable to take her eyes off of Lydia’s face. She’s not as white as the pillow case, but still paler than she usually is. But she will be alright. She’s really… okay.
Izzy can’t prevent herself from grasping Lydia’s hand, holding it tightly in both of hers, for a moment unable to breathe. She exhales slowly, her chest aching.
“I’m sorry for the trouble, I’ll make sure to apologize to everyone.” Lydia sighs softly as her head slinks deeper into the pillow, her gaze falling away.
“It’s fine, you don’t have to worry about that, just- why?” She didn’t mean to end her sentence here, but she’s overcome with so many thoughts, and emotions, and she wishes she could keep a cool, calm head right now, but all of this has gotten to her a lot more deeply than she realized, and inwardly she’s stiff, and trembling.
Lydia licks her lips, and Izzy thinks she should get her something to drink, but her hands are gripping Lydia’s, and she can’t seem to let go.
“I’m sorry.”
Izzy doesn’t understand, and she hopes Lydia will explain everything, right now, or she might burst. She shakes her head, slow growing desperation winding up her stomach, chest, and throat.
Lydia clears her throat, shifts her head slightly, and glances up into Izzy’s eyes. “It was my last day, I wasn’t going on any more missions, but they came out of nowhere.” She swallows with some effort, and Izzy knows she needs water, that she should get her some, but her words are stuck in her brain, and she’s unmoving.
Her last day? She doesn’t comprehend anything anymore.
“I hoped to see you again, whatever happened.” Her voice sounds hoarse, and she’s coughing lightly, shaking Izzy out of her stupor. She turns quickly, glad the table with the water is within her reach, grabs the jug and fills a glass while keeping hold of Lydia's hand.
Lydia takes the offered glass from her, and, propping herself into a more upright position, slowly swallows half of it. She gasps, sighs, and sinks back down, giving the glass back.
“Thank you.”
Izzy puts it away quickly, and gathers her thoughts. “I still don’t understand, are you saying you-”
“Quit. I quit.” Lydia’s eyes are trained on hers, and Izzy feels a shudder rushing all along her spine. What?!
“I told them that I would come back to New York, and that they had no say in it but to accept my decision.”
Izzy notices the tiny, sad smile in Lydia’s eyes, and somehow, she still doesn’t understand anything. “But you wanted to leave, you are determined to have your own institute.” So, why would she ever want to come back? Why would she get in trouble with The Clave?
“I was- am, but… I found out I’m also a fool. Just like Jace said.” She’s smiling a little more, coughs again, and Izzy is fast to help her up, stroking her back gently until Lydia gives her a nod, and she carefully lets her lie down again.
“Jace?” Izzy’s mind, and heart, are all over the place.
“He said I was a fool to leave, and Clary agreed. Alec didn’t say anything, but he gave me that look of his, you know, the one that makes it very clear he thinks you’re wrong. I understood their view, but I wanted to be right. I needed to be.”
She sighs softly, and reaches out her free hand towards Izzy’s face, her fingertips tracing her chin. “Max once said that he liked having me around because you were always smiling when I was there. I had forgotten about that, but I had many sleepless nights, and I remembered. But I still needed duty, and career, and hard work, to determine my life, and my future. That’s what I thought, despite everything I had witnessed from all of you, I couldn’t let go of that part of me. I was too scared to, I was even ashamed, and I didn’t fully understand why.”
She drops her hand, and closes her eyes for a moment, visibly emotional, and exhausted. Izzy is letting her words process inside her mind. But she’s too scared herself, to come to a conclusion on her own, she needs Lydia to tell her everything.
Lydia opens her eyes, and focuses again. “Sorry, I feel a little dizzy, but I’m alright. All I wanted was to see you again, and talk. I didn’t expect it to be like this, but it’s maybe more than I deserve.”
She shifts a little, seeming in discomfort, but when Izzy makes a move towards her stele, she holds her back, taking both of her hands into hers. “I also realized that I needed to leave. Or I wouldn’t have understood any of this. I thought I had to fight, and defeat my emotions, my heart, but in the end, I fought, and defeated my head, and my fear, and shame, so I could come back, and be sure.”
She moves onto her elbow, upwards to be face to face with Isabelle. “I never promised you anything, because it would have been a lie, and I made sure to keep a part of us separated, because I could only allow for one outcome, for us to be apart. And I had to be away to understand everything you’ve all been showing, and teaching me, all this time. I couldn’t let it in back then. But when I was alone, finally a step further towards my goal, with every day everything felt a little stranger, until it all felt wrong. And I did try to convince myself of the opposite, but even then, somehow I knew I didn’t really mean it.”
She pauses, shifts again, and sits up properly, her long hair falling into her face, but she doesn’t let go of Izzy’s hands, merely shaking her head to make it move.
“Once I understood what was happening with me, or rather, what had happened in me, it was almost easy to let go of the set ideal of myself, and my life. And I had to agree with Jace, I was a fool.” She smiles softly, her eyes glistening.
“And I’m so sorry for making you collateral damage in my journey of finding myself, I guess. I can’t vow that I would have got here if things had been different, but I wish I didn’t have to hurt you in the process.”
She kind of slumps into herself, shutting her eyes, full of regret, and Izzy can’t but keep watching her face, so dear to her, Lydia’s words repeating over and over in her head.
She shuts her eyes, as well, gathers herself, looks at Lydia again, and slowly pulls her hands out of hers, making her startle and look at her in alarm, but Izzy soothes her quietly, and pushes her gently back down into bed, staying seated on the edge of it, her hand caressing a few strands from Lydia’s face.
“You really are a fool, a pretty great one.” Izzy smiles, her eyes burning with hot liquid.
“But I’m going to let you in on a secret.” She leans down a little, Lydia’s expression surprised, curious.
“We’re pretty much all fools here, with very few exceptions.” She smiles softly amidst realising what Lydia has been saying. She came back, she wants to stay here, she doesn’t want to be the head of some institute, she wants…
“But some of us have followed our hearts, and weren’t led astray. So, is that what you’re saying?” She leaves her hand covering Lydia’s jaw and cheek, piercing her gaze, needing certainty, because she knows her own heart, and who she wants the last person to be to give it to, and take care of.
Lydia’s eyes widen slightly, and Izzy can feel both of their hearts beating faster in the space between them, and she’s hoping, trusting it completely, to not make an even greater fool of herself.
Lydia exhales suddenly, her lips curling into a lovely smile, her eyes shining. She nods. “It would be an honor to rank amongst the fools at the New York Institute.” They’re both giggling quietly for a moment, tension falling off of them, tired, surprised joy remaining.
Lydia turns her head, cupping Izzy’s hand on her face with her own, kissing her palm, inhaling her scent, her eyes closed.
Izzy’s fighting with a sob, deep down still a little apprehensive, not yet able to chase every last shadow of doubt from her.
Until she locks eyes with Lydia once more. “I missed you.” And Izzy hears the pain in her voice, sees it in her eyes, and before she can say anything else, she leans down, touching her lips, kissing her sweetly, until Lydia’s arms fold around Izzy’s body, and she’s suddenly moved down and around, almost falling off of the bed, if not for Lydia holding her close, side by side.
“I’m not letting you go again.” Lydia smirks slightly, and Izzy, though concerned for her not fully recovered state, can’t but smile, and give in, wrapping her arms around Lydia in return, their noses brushing together.
“Then you better never scare me like this again.” She gives her a reproachful look, and Lydia’s expression softens. “I’ll do my best.”
Izzy has to be satisfied with that. “I have some news to tell you, as well.” She smiles a little, leading her mind to a safer topic, but for a split second, a crack opens inside her, fear striking her. What if she already knows I’ll be the new head of the institute, and that’s why-
“What is it? I haven’t heard any news in forever, tell me.” Lydia’s words close the crevice immediately, calmness, and happiness settling inside Izzy’s body, warming her from deep within.
“It’s not that important right now. I’ll tell you later.” She smirks, and Lydia seems regretful for barely a moment as their lips slide together, hands stroking over one another’s body, tangling through hair, and caressing the little skin that’s revealed.
Izzy feels Lydia’s lips wandering along her cheek, soft caresses, and touches, to her temple, eyebrow, and forehead, suddenly whispering right above her ear, her breath stuck, her heart stuttering.
“I love you, Isabelle, for certain.”
A tear slips from Izzy’s eye, every part of her brimming with bliss too vast to comprehend, but, finally, she feels that she’s enough, because this feels right, like she’s been found, finally able to let go of everything else.
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oopshidaisyy · 4 years
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May Fic Recs
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lélio & ophelia by firstaudrina Find me, Lestat is saying in a thousand different ways, find me find me find me. Lestat/Louis, 4k, T
Desert Sand by VillaKulla The origin story of Goodnight Robicheaux and Billy Rocks Billy/Goody, 34k, M
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my whole trajectory’s toward you, and it’s not losing momentum by theappleppielifestyle 14 year old Eddie gets a glimpse into what's coming. Richie/Eddie, 8k, G
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Love Hath Made Thee a Tame Snake by thehoyden He was the bloody Serpent of Eden, and he wasn’t going to stand for this kind of flagrant trespassing. Aziraphale/Crowley, 3k, E
all of this then back again by firstaudrina Magnus is joking when he says, "You," but Alec says, "Okay." Magnus/Alec, 2k, M
Believe Me if You Can (The House at Pooh Corner) by gyzym  In a world where Arthur is Rabbit, Eames is Tigger, Cobb is Pooh, Yusuf is Eeyore, Ariadne is Piglet and Saito is Owl, nothing makes sense anymore. Arthur/Eames, 11k, T
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Enemies to Lovers by susiecarter Then: Bruce and Clark argued, fucked, kissed, and didn't talk about any of it until the day they stopped. Now: they're living together in the lake house, trying to figure out how to be around each other day in and day out without stepping on each other's toes or crossing any lines. Which might be easier if Clark weren't pregnant. Or if Bruce weren't being so weird about it. Or if the mother box hadn't rearranged Clark's insides on a whim in the first place— There's a lot that could have made this easier, basically. But then Bruce and Clark always did do things the hard way. Clark/Bruce, 28k, E
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le coup de foudre by firstaudrina three vignettes about desire. Lestat/Louis, <1k, G
Circuit by thingswithwings Post-movie. Watson finds a reason to go back to the flat on Baker Street. Holmes/Watson, 1k, E
2 become 1, or: these are totally normal roommate shenanigans by dollsome Chloe decides to fake-seduce June in an act of vengeance. Naturally, June strikes back. Chloe/June, 3k, T
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How to Tame a God by theorytale Loki is unstable. Tony is a genius. Together, they fight crime still don't like each other very much. There might be some benefit in alternative tactics. Loki & Tony, 5k, T
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it should follow, you know this (like the panels of a comic strip) by gyzym Four, eleven, fifteen, twenty-one, thirty-six, forty, as old as he's always been, too young, and everyone knows Tony Stark. Steve/Tony, 1k, T
music to watch girls to by firstaudrina They're both laughing, helpless and stupid with it. Izzy doesn't remember half as much of this before Clary came here. She remembers smirks and side-eye and the occasional chuckle but never gasping laughing over something that isn't even that funny, when you think about it. Clary/Isabelle, 1k, G
let me lay waste to thee by postcardmystery Ink stained fingers and ale left untouched. The cheapest paper left to rot and cuffs stained with little spots of black. A life shared but never quite lived together. A boy who wanted to be a poet, remembered as a playwright, and a boy who wanted to stage, remembered for his blood on a dagger held by no one. Marlowe/Shakespeare, 4k, M
Crash Landers by gyzym In which Stiles learns to Stalk That Stalk. (Or, how to accidentally woo your unfriendly neighborhood alpha in roughly five hundred handwritten steps.) Derek/Stiles, 31k, T Note: i’ve never watched teen wolf i just think this fic is neat
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silver-lily-louise · 5 years
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The Finer Things In Life
Summary: Magnus comes back into view, hand-to-hand with the last Circle member as he conserves what’s left of his magic after a gruelling battle. Magnus clearly has the upper hand, his centuries of combat experience making itself known – The Circle member loses their footing, stumbling into Magnus and knocking him overboard. (In which Magnus is forced to face an old fear, and Alec's a supportive husband.)
Read it on AO3, or below!
~oOo~
Maybe we should start asking them to come to us, Alec thinks irritably, even as his arrows strike home in the hearts of three more demons. Across the deck, there’s a high-pitched explosion as Magnus dispatches two Shadowhunters – Circle members, who’ve crawled out of the woodwork yet again, still loyal to the cause even after their network’s been all but eradicated.
The boat rocks slightly, the docks tilting in and out of Alec’s peripheral vision on his right; his core flexes, keeping him steady enough to send the next arrow through the skull of one of Jace’s assailants. He’s not complaining about being roped into this – he’d much rather that than have one of his siblings come home hurt, or worse – but lately it feels like every time he and Magnus are back in New York for a visit, there’s some emergency. Usually, one big enough that Isabelle has to leave the Institute and head up her own team, rather than managing remotely through Ops as she does day-to-day. And when things are that serious, of course the two of them are going to help out. 
The sounds of fighting are beginning to die down, now; on their boat, and echoing across from the three others nearby. It was a well-coordinated attack, Isabelle’s tactical mastery coming into play, and the Circle members – as well as the hordes of demons they’d been summoning – are dropping like flies, unprepared for the onslaught of what is pretty much the entire New York Institute.
But they’re not out of the woods just yet; a fact Alec is immediately reminded of as Magnus comes back into view on his left, hand-to-hand with the last Circle member as he conserves what’s left of his magic after a gruelling battle. Magnus clearly has the upper hand, his centuries of combat experience making itself known – so Alec aims his bow towards the last few demons instead, content to simply keep an eye on Magnus in case the tables turn and he could use an assist.
Which is how he witnesses the Circle member losing their footing, stumbling into Magnus and knocking him overboard.
Alec’s stomach drops. ‘Magnus!’ he yells, running for the edge, leaping over the Circle member’s prone form even as one of Clary’s throwing daggers sinks into their neck. He leans over the railing, scanning the water – and there’s a moment of relief as his gaze quickly finds Magnus, upright and moving. But it’s short-lived, because Magnus isn’t just moving – he’s desperately striking out, his arms almost a blur, his head occasionally dipping beneath the surface.
He can’t get out. The realisation seems to punch Alec in the gut. The docks are too high to climb, he was low on magic, he can’t get out - ‘Izzy, pull us up!’ he hollers – and he doesn’t wait for a reply before he holsters his weapons and jumps.
Alec hits the water feet first, arms crossed over his chest, and the impact somehow knocks the air from his lungs. He scrambles upwards, gasping for breath as he breaches the surface, eyes immediately finding his husband again. ‘Magnus!’ He strikes out towards him, calling his name over and over but not getting any response.
Several painful, eternal seconds later, he’s close enough to reach out, treading water as he tries to avoid Magnus’ flailing attempts to keep himself afloat. ‘Magnus- Magnus!’ Alec manages to grab his husband’s wrist, giving himself a window of opportunity to close the last of the distance between them and take a still-struggling Magnus firmly in his arms. ‘Magnus, honey, you gotta calm down, okay? I got you. I got you, it’s okay.’
Magnus finally stills, his arms latching around Alec’s neck in a death grip, his breaths heavy and irregular against Alec’s throat. ‘Alright, you with me?’ Alec asks, and he feels a nod against the crook of his neck. ‘Okay. I’m gonna take us back to the boat.’ His right arm leaves Magnus’ waist as he begins propelling them back towards safety, and Magnus’ hold on him gets impossibly tighter. Alec leans back, kicking more strongly now.
He glances over his shoulder, changing trajectory a little as he sees the glint of silver, reaching out towards it the second he can. He wraps the end of the whip around his hand a few times and clutches it, before giving a couple of sharp tugs. ‘Alright, going up,’ he murmurs. ‘Just hold on. I got you.’ The whip digs into his palm as they’re pulled up, his shoulder aching in protest. He ignores it all and just holds on for dear life.
And then there are hands on him, Izzy and Jace and Clary grabbing ahold and heaving the pair of them back up onto the deck – and then he’s kneeling, Magnus still held tightly in his arms. ‘Magnus?’ Clary says, tentatively, keeping her distance. ‘You guys okay?’ Jace asks.
‘Yeah, we’re okay,’ Alec confirms, because he doesn’t think Magnus is up to talking just yet, still hiding his face in Alec’s shoulder. ‘We’re okay,’ he repeats, dropping his voice again so it’s just for Magnus’ ears. ‘It’s okay, honey, I got you -’ He knows he’s repeating himself, knows some of what he says is meaningless. But he keeps it up, his idle, anxious comfort, a quiet voice to reassure while Magnus gradually loosens his grip and gets his bearings.
It’s not long before Magnus is pulling away, taking a deep breath, glamored eyes flicking between Alec and the others. ‘Alright,’ he says softly, his mouth tugging up into a half-hearted reassurance of a smile. ‘Alright.’ He nods decisively, seemingly to himself, leaning on Alec a little as they get to their feet.
There’s the quiet buzz of approaching voices, the teams from the lower decks making their way to the top. Izzy throws Magnus a smile, wordlessly excusing herself to check in with them, and Jace swiftly follows. ‘Clary,’ Alec says, ‘can you get us out of here?’ Magnus is already tensing up a little, ready to put on a brave face in front of Izzy’s troops, and Alec would much rather just get him home before it becomes an issue. Clary nods. ‘Sure, yeah.’ She pulls out her stele, deftly tracing out the portal rune, and the golden gateway blinks into existence before them. ‘Thank you, Biscuit,’ Magnus says. Clary smiles, laying a hand on his arm. ‘We’ll see you again before you head back, right?’ ‘Of course,’ Magnus reassures her. Alec shoots her a grateful look, and then he and Magnus step through the portal together.
The docks dissolve around them, replaced by the white glow of their suite at the Baccarat. (Before they left Alicante, Alec had pointed out that he has a perfectly serviceable room still available at the Institute, but Magnus had insisted. Alexander, he’d said, amusement coloring his tone, I will convince you to enjoy the finer things in life if it’s the last thing I do.) Alec stifles a chuckle, because nothing says yeah, I belong in a premier suite at a five-star hotel like standing in the middle of one whilst covered in blood and ichor and silt.
He turns to face Magnus with a soft smile. ‘Shower, then food?’ he suggests. Magnus gives a deep sigh, nodding once. ‘Absolutely.’
***
An hour and a half later, they’re clean and dry, warm and well-fed. Alec’s iratze is holding strong, soothing the ache in his shoulder. He busies himself for a few minutes by tidying away the leftover cavatelli, and then wanders over to join Magnus on the couch, sinking down beside him with a groan. Magnus’ mouth quirks. ‘Quite a day, hm?’ Alec just hums in agreement.
They’re quiet for a while, comfortable in each other’s company, only the low strains of a waltz breaking the silence. Part of the melody falls in a tripped, steady pattern, and Alec taps it with his fingers, smiling when he realises why it seems so familiar. ‘Was this… written for a warlock, or something?’ Magnus frowns a little, looking at him curiously. ‘I have absolutely no idea. Why do you ask?’ Alec taps a little more insistently. ‘That rhythm – it’s a heartbeat, like yours. That… badum-ta. Badum-ta.’ It’s a rhythm that he knows as well as his own heart’s ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum at this point.
Magnus’ gaze meets his briefly, seeming to melt a little. ‘So it is. Perhaps I’ll look it up when we get home.’ He looks away again – but the spell of silence seems to be broken, and he sighs. ‘Alexander, I realised that I haven’t yet thanked you for today. For pulling me out of there.’ Alec just shakes his head. ‘You don’t need to thank me for that,’ he says softly. ‘I’ll always help you if I can.’ ‘And I appreciate that, I do. But you shouldn’t have had to today.’ Magnus’ jaw twitches in self-annoyance. ‘There was no danger. There was no reason for me to react the way I did,’ he chides.
Alec sits forward a little. ‘Hey,’ he says gently, waiting until Magnus meets his eyes again. ‘You know that’s not true. You told me what happened when you were a kid, and the effect it had on you.’ He reaches out, fingertips brushing against Magnus’ forearm. ‘Magnus, everyone’s afraid of something. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the strongest person I know.’
There’s quiet again for a moment – and then Alec watches, relieved, as the last of his husband’s doubt and embarrassment fades, leaving only a fond smile. ‘When did you get so wise, Alexander?’ Magnus murmurs. Alec sits back again, letting out a deep, contented breath. ‘Learned from the best,’ he says.
Magnus takes his hand, claiming it as he leans back against Alec’s shoulder. ‘You know,’ he says airily, ‘I didn’t realise we were revisiting the pet names conversation.’ ‘What? Are we?’ Alec says, confused. ‘I assumed so. After all, earlier, when you dove in to get me? You called me honey. Twice.’ He glances back up at Alec, giving a small, mischievous grin.
Alec’s face contorts for a moment as he tries to find an appropriate response. ‘…I guess I did,’ he says finally, feeling a low blush spread across his face. He shrugs, deceptively casual. ‘Well, it’s accurate.’ Magnus’ teasing smile grows. ‘Oh?’ Alec knows what he’s expecting. Because you’re sweet. It’s true, of course; but what he actually says is, ‘Yeah, I mean – you came into my life one day and just …stuck. And before I even knew what was happening, you were everywhere.’
Magnus’ head snaps up, and he stares at Alec in incredulous offence. ‘That’s your reasoning?’ Alec tries to look as innocent as he can. ‘Of course,’ he says, before wrinkling his brow a little in apparent confusion. ‘Why, what did you think I was gonna say?’ Unfortunately, he can’t keep a straight face for long – he blames the wine they had with dinner – and of course, once he cracks, Magnus isn’t far behind. ‘Alright, I will admit,’ Magnus says grudgingly, ‘that your line of reasoning is slightly adorable.’ Alec smiles in triumph. ‘And by the way,’ he says – more softly, now – ‘I’m really glad you did. Stick around, I mean.’
Magnus returns his smile – and then sighs, resettling against him. ‘You do realise,’ he says, slyly, ‘that if you’re now calling me ‘honey’, that puts ‘pup’ back on the table.’ ‘Absolutely not,’ Alec declares.
The rest of the evening devolves into bickering and laughter and slow, sweet kisses, the music with a warlock’s heartbeat rippling around them. He loves Magnus more than anyone in the world, but he’s also pretty sure his husband was wrong yesterday. Alec definitely appreciates the finest things in his life.
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endless-vall · 5 years
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Old friends - Thomas x Isobel (MC) fanfic
Summary: Isobel and Thomas used to be childhood best friends, but lost touch after she moved at the age of fourteen. Now, moving back to Goldcliffe, Isobel wasn’t expecting to see Thomas again. But sometimes surprises turn to be the best things in your life.
Author’s note: I know the ‘childhood best friends’ trope is so cliche’, But I’ve never actually got the chance to write one. So here’s one ~
This is going to be a series (not exactly a story with chapters, but it is reccomended to read all parts for a better understanding of the story). This is the first one, hope you’ll enjoy it!
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Isobel strolled through the department store isles, furrowing her eyebrows when she couldn’t find the school supplies she had to get for Zoey.
“Let’s see,” She scanned the shelves in front of her for something, anything to cross off her list.
Finally - a five section binder appeared before her eyes like the savior she needed. At least this trip to the store wasn’t a complete waste of time.
And she was in luck, it was the very last binder on that shelf.
With a victory smile Isobel strode off towards the shelf and rose to her tiptoes, grabbing the binder just as another hand grabbed at it from the other side.
“Hey, I was going to--” She starts to argue, turning towards the man who grabbed her binder a second before she could call it hers, but stopped in her tracks when she realized the figure standing in front of her looked familiar. Too familiar to be a coincidence.
In mere moments, her eyes scanned the charming man standing in front of her, his eyes having a familiar glint she couldn’t put her finger on.
“Wait--” Her eyes widened with realization. “Tom?!” 
There he was, her childhood best friend, Thomas Mendez, standing in front of her.
He certainly was much more handsom than she remembered him, but he was still her adorable nerdy Tom.
“Izzy?!” Realization hit him too, and before they could completely process the situation, they both wrapped their arms around each other and colided into a tight hug.
After what felt like forever, not that Isobel was complaining, they finally broke apart.
She needed that hug, if she was being honest, and it seemed Thomas needed it too.
“I can’t believe it. It’s been what... Fifteen years?” Thomas asked, shaking his head and looking her over again, as if he was trying to check she was real.
“Almost sixteen, yeah,” She was barely able to believe it herself.
She knew that Thomas lived somewhere around this area, but she haven’t really given it thought with work, the move, and Zoey on her mind 24/7. She certainly wasn’t expecting to just run into him like that.
“Time sure flys.” Thomas nodded, trying to find the balance between once being best friends, and now barely knowing each other. They were now completely different people than they were when she last seen him - at the age of fourteen.
“It does. And still, it feels like just yesterday we were playing under that pine tree, or sneaking off to aunt Hilda’s house after hours, just to eat some freshly baked cookies and listen to her stories.” Isobel reminisced.
Thomas laughed warmly. “Oh god, you’re right. I haven’t had cookies that good in YEARS.” Now they were laughing together.
“Well, you can definitely keep the binder,” Thomas finally let go of it, and Isobel tossed it into her shopping bag.
“What are you doing here in Goldcliffe anyway?” Thomas asks her, as they started walking together with him showing her around all the good places for school supplies.
“I... Just moved here, actually.” She admits, suddenly catching herself blushing a little.
Why was she blushing at him? 
It was just Thomas. they were friends since day one at the first grade. 
“You moved back here?” Thomas didn’t hide the smile forming on his face.
“Yeah, my daughter, Zoey, got accepted to Bernhardt, and since it’s such a good school, I decided it was worth to move back. Although being back here does bring back all kinds of memories.” Isobel got lost in thought for a moment.
“Good memories, I hope?” Thomas peeked at her and caught her off guard. He was almost blushing himself, as if he was asking some unspoken question.
“Oh, definitely good, of course. But also some sad ones like having to move, and say goodbye to all my friends and start over someplace else.” Isobel explained.
When she was fourteen, her father got a job offer in a different town, far away from Goldcliffe, and the entire family moved. She haven’t really been to Goldcliffe since, but when she met Guy at College they hit it off by striking a conversation about Goldcliffe, and how they never met back there.
Thinking about it now, Isobel was glad she never ran into Guy while she lived at Goldcliffe, and that couldn’t ruin her memories of this place.
“Well, it looks like you did a wonderful job. You say you have a daughter, Zoey? Right? I bet she’s as brilliant as you are.” Thomas throws another thing from Isobel’s shopping list into her bag, and ticks some off his list as well.
“She’s much more briliant than I ever was. She’s honestly the best thing in my life.” Isobel beams whenever she talks about Zoey, and this time is no different.
“I noticed you have a school supply list too.” She motions to his own list, her tone asking...
“Her name is Luz. She’s the light of my life, as well. I guess we still have things in common, even after all this time.” Thomas answers, still smiling although his eyes tell a little different story, but Isobel isn’t sure if she should pry.
“So you moved here with your...” But here came the question, and Isobel wasn’t able to catch herself before she sighed. 
For some reason it was too easy to be herself around Thomas, even if she haven’t seen him for more than a decade.
“Her father is out of the picture... It’s just me and her. Been that way for a while now... Four years, actually.” Isobel explains, her shoulders shrugging.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m a single father too, actually.” He puts a hand over her shoulder. Somehow comforting, even though she should probably be the one comforting him.
“But Soledad-” Isobel starts to protest. Guy was a horrible person, but Soledad seemed to be an incredible woman. Isobel was actually present at Thomas and Soledad’s wedding, although she never really got to talk to him past congratulating him.
“Passed away... Two years ago. Well, passed away is putting it mildly. Killed is more appropriate.” Thomas’s expression turns angry, angrier than Isobel had ever seen him.
“Killed??” Her mouth hangs open.
“It was a car accident on paper. Unofficially? Her brakes failed. Manufacturer defect.” He explains.
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry, Thomas.” She reaches for him. Now it her turn to assure him.
A few moments pass, they’re standing in silence, as Thomas draws comfort from her.
“How’s Luz taking it?” Isobel dares to ask, finally, barely audibly.
“Honestly? Not great. With my job Solded was usually the alpha-parent. Now I’m struggling to find the right words and Luz acts out in school.
We’re holding it together, but it’s not easy. But I’m sorry to dump this all on you on your first day back.” Thomas shakes his head, and tries to plaster back his smile and change the subject.
“No... No, it’s okay. I can’t imagine how hard it is to lose a spouse. Although I definitely know a lot about struggling.” Isobel resume their walking, her hand still intertwined somehow with Thomas’s.
“Thank you...” Thomas nods, and suddenly it sounds as if he can breath more easily.
“It’s good to have you back, you know?” He tells her, as they finally find the last of their supplies, and head towards the counter.
“It’s good to have a friend here, too.” Isobel smiles at him warmly.
At least she won’t feel all alone in Goldcliffe, and putting on a brave face for Zoey won’t be as hard anymore.
After finally ringing up all their supplies, Isobel turns to look for Zoey in the fantasy books isle.
Thomas is still walking alongside her, excited to meet the little one.
“You know, since we’re both single parents now... We could definitely help each other,” Thomas suggests, as they approach the isle and Zoey comes into view.
“Oh, I’m counting on that. Besides catching up and helping me find ultra-fine pens you’re definitely going to help me with this Berthardt’s crowd and stuff,” Isobel orders, and Thomas chuckles lightly.
“I’m not sure if I can really help with that, I don’t exactly fit in either, but it would definitely be a life-saving experience to hang out with you during those boring parent-meetings.”
Isobel laughs. “We’ll just have to find something else you could help me with,” She winks at him.
“And you could teach me how to braid Luz’s hair, since I can’t do that for the life of me.” Thomas answers, as Zoey finally raises her eyes and notices her mom getting closer.
“Mom!” Zoey calls excitedly and runs over.
“Was this your plan from the beggining? Did you approach me just so I could teach you how to braid your daughter’s hair?” Isobel was teasing Thomas now, raising an eyebrow coyly at him while Zoey zoomed in.
“Mayyyyyyybe” He teases back, and she punches his shoulder lightly. He laughs in return, and then they both turn to Zoey - who’s looking between them questioningly.
“Did you make a new friend?” Zoey finally asks, turning to her mother with sparks in her eyes.
It was obvious to anyone who looked at them from the side to see that that kid adored her mother just as Isobel adored her.
“It’s an old friend, actually. Zoey - I want you to meet Thomas Mendez. He was my best friend, actually, back when I lived here.” Isobel introduces them.
“Hi Zoey.” Thomas offers his hand.
Zoey shakes his hand lightly before taking a step closer to her mom. “Hi Thomas.” She says politely.
God, he wished Luz would be so polite when meeting new people. Luz would’ve offered Isobel to sword-fight her by now, or something along those lines.
“How do you like Goldcliffe so far?” He asks Zoey.
Zoey’s eyes sparkle before she starts blabbering. “Well, I have’t seen much of it, yet, but it’s huge! And my mom used to live here so it has to be awesome. Also, my new room rocks! I can’t wait to find cool things to decorate it with. Ooooh, and also-”
Isobel sends a questioning look at Thomas, but instead of looking bored or regretting he asked - Thomas listens contently and carefully. He nods and smiles along to Zoey’s story and Isobel heart warms.
She was happy to reconnect with Thomas, but she was even more happy that him and her daughter were getting along.
She had a feelings this move was going to be good for them. For all of them.
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clansayeed · 4 years
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Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 9: The Matriarch
PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature
��� MASTERLIST ⥽
⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽
While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.
Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].
*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!
⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽
Cadence reveals the last person to hold the Amulet of Nero was Isadora de la Rosa; unfettered mafia boss and matriarch of the New Orleans vampires. And she isn't happy about a couple of out-of-towners wandering around her territory without permission.
[READ IT ON AO3]
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Some might say Lily enjoys it a little too much.
Before they even step foot in Flechette they have to stop no less than five times to get her to calm down.
“Calm down — calm down?” The last time Nadya saw her like this was after Maricruz’s birthday, and no matter what Jax said she’s still not unconvinced a couple of the Shadow Den’s donors weren’t on something; if you catch her meaning.
“How could I possibly be calm at a time like this? Don’t you realize what’s happening Nadi’? We’re living a real life True Blood fantasy right now.”
“Yeah, see — don’t even think about mentioning that once we’re inside, please?” Cadence tugs at the collar of his shirt uncomfortably. “They know every reference, no matter how obscure. There are no strikes in a place like this; if you bring pop culture into their world they will kick us out — and that’s only if Izzy’s feeling generous.”
“Why do they care?” asks Nadya.
“For the misconception of it all. Flechette may be a cover, and Izzy is certainly no dominatrix. But most of their money these days comes from loyal customers and members. The de la Rosa dynasty is accustomed to a certain amount of wealth and status. Risk that… and it isn’t uncommon for you to go ‘missing.’”
Adrian’s surprise is quickly clouded by narrowed eyes and a stern frown. “That’s against your Accords, though, surely.”
“In the same way unauthorized Turning is against the rules of your Clans.”
That sobers Lily up pretty quickly. She and Nadya exchange glances; both trying to hide their worry from the other. But Lily pulls her a little bit closer by their linked arms and Nadya doesn’t exactly stop her.
Admittedly Nadya would feel a lot better if Katherine had joined them for this, too. But only claimed humans were exempt from what Cadence describes as a pretty lax ‘feeding policy’ beyond the club’s front doors. “And no,” the huntress hadn’t even given Nadya the breath to ask, “that’s not a thing Cade and I have done. I like my freedom a little too much for that.”
He looks her up and down warily; eyes lingering on her very healthy and very not-bitten neck. “You are claimed, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t feel a —”
“I said yes, Cadence,” she lifts her bracelet and lets the compass-esque charm of Clan Sayeed catch on the nearby neon lights. The hardest part is not letting it feel like a ball and chain weighing her down and reminding Nadya of her problems back home.
She’s got enough of those in front of her at the moment.
He acts as their local tour guide along the way; pointing out places and spaces every once in a while with a fun little factoid about the city’s histories; the ones both human and supernatural. It’s a good front — for most of their trip Nadya’s so interested in listening and imagining that she almost doesn’t notice what Cadence is really doing. It doesn’t hurt that the vampire sounds so sure of himself, too.
But then he’s halfway through a story about some stone troll (still yet to be seen, still yet to be believed) that tried to run for city Mayor and that’s neither distracting nor interesting. It’s just talking for the sake of talking.
“You’re rambling,” Nadya realizes — and realizes at the same time it was a much more astonishing revelation in her head than it is out loud, “like… nervous rambling.”
The blond scoffs. “What? If you weren’t interested all you had to do was —”
“Nope—I hear it too.” Lily’s eyes narrow, and beside her Adrian looks like he’s playing everything back on a mental tape recorder. “Trust me — I’ve lived with it long enough. That’s some Grade A tongue-twisting. Why’re you nervous?”
“I’m not… going to be able to convince you, am I?”
His blue eyes flicker to Adrian; some kind of Older Vampire Solidarity thing, but if Nadya and Lily are suspicious then Adrian sees no reason not to join in. Broad shoulders slump in his sweater and Cadence gestures for them to keep walking.
“I don’t hide that I have a history with the de la Rosas. When I first arrived in New Orleans the laws were far more lax and by all accounts Carlo let me off easy for coming onto his territory in secret.”
Lily’s eyebrows raise. “Even if you didn’t know what you did was wrong?” And Cadence nods.
“Even then. I served my dues and paid my debts. In his last days I would have even called him an acquaintance — which is saying quite a lot if you ever met him.”
“I did,” Adrian nods in agreement, “and that’s… high praise.”
“Isadora took over the Family affairs in the middle of the Mardi Gras crisis. We worked together then because we needed to — and because Izzy’s a cunning woman.” A strange look glazes Cadence’s eyes behind his lenses; something Nadya might almost call nostalgic. “She has an acute sense of smell for power; when it shifts, where it goes, and how to attain as much of it as she can. A short while after Kathy and I returned from New York she paid me a visit at my office.”
“Not for tea, I’m guessing?”
Of course not. “The overall purpose of it was a goodbye. All debts, no matter how small, were cleared. She made it clear she would have nothing more to do with me — and by extension, neither would the Family. The New Accords bind us legally and magically; through them I will always have a say in matters concerning the vampire community here. But beyond that…”
His words trail off into the night air but they don’t need to be heard for the visitors to understand them clearly. Beyond that, Cadence is risking a lot to bring them to Flechette; to Isadora.
It’s a knowledge that clearly makes Adrian uneasy. “Once we arrive, if you need to leave — it might be better that way.”
“Without me there’s nothing tying you to the city. The moment you step inside she’ll already know when you arrived. And the first thing she will want to know is why you didn’t declare yourselves until hours later. You may be spared, Adrian, for your title up North. But I don’t see Lily walking out without at least a decade of service to the Family dragging her down.”
Cadence pushes up his glasses with a resigned sigh. “This is the best way. But I know the risks. Don’t worry about me.”
His smile is strained and doesn’t last long — quickly he turns and resumes leading them on but this time in a stony and stifling silence.
Nadya feels a squeeze on her arm and finds Lily’s eyes completely devoid of their earlier delight. It’s a look she recognizes; one similar to the moments before their descent into the Council Chamber.
Just like then, she squeezes back. Their pinkies linked in a silent promise to one another; I’ll keep you safe.
They go down a block or two more before Flechette comes into view around the corner. Actually — it’s pretty hard to miss. It stands at the end of the street, borders the last of the buildings distinct to the French Quarter. This whole time Nadya’s been under the assumption that without Cadence guiding them they might not even know what to look for.
But now she’s pretty sure she could have found the place without her glasses.
There’s no ignoring the club bass pounding so loud it almost shakes the pavement. Like he reads her mind Cadence immediately explains in a lowered voice; “Fae wards seal the sound around the block. Works great for the music… and any other noises that might draw attention.” Thick black metal bars seal off the windows. Nadya and Lily exchange half-chuckles; reminded of the city.
Two men in suits stand on either side of the entrance. Nadya watches one with a clipboard in hand undo the hook of a velvet rope and allow a couple inside. She pretends the dark stains on their clothes illuminated by the neon lights are fake campy homemade blood. For her own sanity.
A large rose hums with electricity over the second floor windows. Below it; Flechette in large blocked capitals.
“What’s it mean in English?” Lily asks with a nudge to Adrian’s shoulder. Because of course he knows French. Nadya once watched him spend an entire work evening on a conference call with some biotech company in Lyon. He’s actually pretty good.
“It means dart, or arrow, something along those lines.” But the translation is nothing without the answer, so they all turn to the nerd.
He surprises them with a shrug. “Hell if I know. It’s always been the name of Carlo’s business. It was a photo house when I came to town; specializing in ones you definitely didn’t want to show your mates on the front lines. Catering after that, hired performers after the second war, and an escort service briefly when the dot-com boom hit nationwide. The club was actually Izzy’s idea after she came back up from Miami. A small group of our kind pitched in to own one together for an unlimited feeding source. It’s definitely been their most successful venture.”
“All of which had to do with sex; in one form or another.” Adrian states dryly.
“Sex sells, baby. Even sexy caterers.” Lily bumps her hip into his — he’s so taken aback that he nearly stumbles off the curb. Nadya doesn’t even try to hide her laughter.
The hairs on the back of Nadya’s neck stand up alert as they pass the queued line. Envious eyes drilling holes right through her; judging her and Lily and Adrian and Cadence, too. All of them like they’re on a shiny silver platter.
She makes the mistake of looking back when a scoff catches distant in her ear. The offender couldn’t be older than a college kid — obviously shirtless underneath his black leather jacket and for a moment she sees something glinting near his upper lip and it almost makes her stumble. But a quick look into his eyes and Nadya notices right away they’re the wrong shade of red. Too bright, too wide, too human.
He blinks and the colored contact shifts in place.
“Nadya, come on.” Adrian calls; and Lily tugs at her sleeve until the pair of them fast-walk passed the rest and through the sleek black door held open for them begrudgingly.
She looks into the doorman’s eyes, too. Those aren’t contacts.
“What happened back there?” Lily whispers at her side. Up ahead Cadence starts to lead them down a short hallway and in the dark humidity Nadya has to make a conscious effort to remind herself she’s not going to find the Baron at the end of this tunnel. “Did that kid say something to you?”
Nadya blinks back to reality. “What — no, no. He… he was wearing colored contacts.”
“So? I have every color of the rainbow back home. You’ve seen me in ‘em.”
“Yeah…” and Lily’s talking sense; they both know it — but the knowledge doesn’t shake the unease from her bones.
“What was it then?”
“He was doing it to look like one of them.” One of you. “Did you see his face, Lil’? He was so young.”
He makes Nadya think of who she was at that age. How little she knew about the world — not even counting the vampires, the Ferals; the scary truths hidden in the dark. She’s a good person — she surrounds herself with good people. But the Vegas of the world; the Lesters and the Priyas and anyone else who would even consider the awful act of Turning someone that young? They’re all too real.
When will I start to see those memories, Nadya wonders, how long until they tear me in two?
Lily’s steps falter; she hesitates. “Are you sure you can do this right now?”
It doesn’t matter whether she can or not. “It’s something I’ve gotta do anyway.” Luckily they follow Cadence and Adrian through a doorway covered by a velvet curtain shortly after; so she doesn’t have to keep talking about it.
From the outside it definitely didn’t look like Flechette could hold this many people. The building has several stories but only one floor — she has to crane her neck up high to see lights in iron-wrought fixtures all the way up top. Between the floor and ceiling various cages hang on heavy chains; scattered for space and each one with a dancing individual — a big one a little too high up for Nadya’s comfort sports three.
Servers in different states of undress — but all bearing the same thick black collar and silvery rose-engraved pendant — flit back and forth through other similarly curtained entrances with trays. Trays of drinks, one passes with three glass bowls of multicolored pills, and oh look that one has a fancy assortment of plugs… the use for which Nadya will very happily keep from her head.
Some members are dancing, others are grinding — all of them care about themselves, the person(s) they’re with, or the ones closest to them giving a show. She had expected to feel a lot of unusual things here but relief was not one of them. Not that she’s complaining.
But even though Nadya can’t tell by first glance who here is human and who is vampire; she knows for a fact the last time she was in a room with this many of them things were drastically different for her. She wasn’t a Bloodkeeper back then. Well — she was, but none of this was happening to her.
So it comes as no surprise when she locks eyes with someone—certainly a vampire—and feels something wet in her mouth that definitely isn’t there. Slick and succulent and all she has to do is bite — harder this time…
Nadya forces her eyes down and lets Lily weave her through the path Cadence carves for them. “Do you think this place is campy,” Lily calls over the music only growing louder the deeper in they go, “or do you think camp is based on places like this?!”
“I think we need to hurry up!”
“Spoilsport!”
Everything’s going just great until she’s yanked to a halt.
With one hand as a blinder Nadya shakily raises her eyes to see what’s happening.
Just up ahead Cadence and a short and balding man are locked in heated debate. The music mostly drowns them out but she catches an angry “bastard” and Cadence’s accented “demand you let us through” before it all dissolves back into noise.
“Adrian,” Lily hisses, and even that makes Nadya feel a little fuzzy, thoughts that aren’t hers starting to filter in through her best friend’s touch. Lily somehow keeping her grounded and making her feel less present at the same time, “we gotta get her somewhere — I don’t know, just somewhere not here.”
Somewhere not here sounds amazing. Yes please!
The sleek black shoes step out of Nadya’s sight — there’s a thud and the nearby laughter and conversation goes quiet. Which, of course, somehow makes Nadya’s situation feel worse.
Adrian holds the smaller man up by the front of his ruined suit; feet dangling a good foot from the ground and up in his face, words she can’t understand because she never mastered the art of lip-reading hissed between his fangs.
Cadence tries to push him back but Adrian snaps something that gets him to back off. He jerks his chin in Nadya’s direction and for a moment she holds his red-eyed gaze and doesn’t… quite recognize who she’s looking at.
And that has nothing to do with her pounding head. It has everything to do with Adrian — and Adrian alone.
Sweat beads on Nadya’s brow and stings in her eyes — she’s five solid seconds from passing out when the curtain Baldy is guarding gets pushed back and a woman dressed like she’s ready for a Victorian funeral stands as barrier. She observes each of them silently — or Nadya doesn’t see her lips move anyway — before her eyes fall on Cadence and grow hard.
Adrian drops the doorman and gestures for the two of them to come forward. It’d be a real freakin’ help if she could hear anything right now.
It helps that once they’re off the main club floor and the (surprisingly sound-muffling) curtains are closed behind them she finds immediate relief. She can hear again (and not the echoes of memories — all the better) but boy does her head hurt.
While Lily rubs the small of her back, one of the collared servers offers her a tray with a glass of water and three white pills.
“You have no reason to worry, they are for the headache; nothing more.”
The woman speaks out of sight which is ominous enough but Nadya really could care less. She’d do anything to stifle the pain, the memories; and practically launches the pills into her throat before chasing them down until the water glass is empty.
“Th—Thank you.”
“Of course,” Nadya hears the shifting sound of cloth on leather while she rubs her eyes with the heels of her palms, “I would have you collect yourself before we proceed.”
She goes to lean against Lily — where’s Lily?
“Wait, what do you mean pro—ceed…”
A larger and rougher hand than Lily’s comes down on Nadya’s shoulder. Strong enough to hold her back; keep her at bay. And when everything, including her full range of sight, finally comes back…
She really wishes it hadn’t. She’d like to take her thanks back too, while she’s at it.
Isadora de la Rosa sits as a blooming rose on an onyx canvas; dark waves of hair almost blending in except where the shine catches the light. The brightest part of her (and the room at large) is the crisp white of her pinstriped pantsuit. She watches Nadya with an unreadable deadpan and a cigarette between her long fingers. With all the black in the room the smoke can’t hide as it curls up into the air and dissipates.
Her desk, large and not unlike Adrian’s back at the office, is flanked by the Victorian funeral woman and another, much younger girl dressed similarly. She can’t be more than Nadya’s age. Maybe closer to the human boy back outside in line.
Nadya could do without the three large suited bodyguards holding three stakes to her three friends’ hearts though. If there was one thing she had to complain about, it would be that.
“You’re really leaning into the whole mafia vibe now, I see.” Cadence quips, and there’s a little quirk of his lips as the (much shorter) man behind him struggles to keep the blond held back with the stake right over his heart. It wavers and ends up more near his stomach.
He throws a look down behind him. “Looking well, Tony. Be a peach and push up my glasses for me?”
‘Tony’ hesitates — then slowly pushes them up from where they were perched dangerously on the tip of Cadence’s nose.
“Thank you.”
“Shut it.”
It’s not unlikely that the man restraining Nadya is a vampire too; but there’s no harm in trying to get herself free, right? She wiggles — the grip tightens so hard her knees almost buckle. “Ow ow owowow!”
“Get your hands off of her!” Adrian barks; and judging by the shadow that flickers over the dark, crow-like features of the vampire holding him, he’s giving her the best fight of everyone.
Lily immediately goes for some part to bite — Nadya’s got some serious respect for that. But not if it costs Lily her life—er… undeath.
And all the while Isadora de la Rosa just looks on. Not with amusement, not with malice; more bored than anything. The perpetual exhaustion with everything she must witness reminds Nadya, achingly, of Kamilah.
Cadence sighs. He’s the only one who hasn’t bothered with even the slightest escape attempt. “Adrian, stop.”
“Listen to him, Mister Raines,” Isadora finally says; but instead of looking at him she’s focused on snubbing her cigarette in an ash tray so black Nadya almost thinks it’s the desk, “you aren’t exactly giving the finest impression of your so-called revered Council of vampires. Compose yourself — and die with dignity.”
I’m sorry, do what with dignity?!
She raises two fingers as if to signal, but in a panic Nadya cries out before she can bring it down to act.
“Wait—please Miss de la Rosa, please don’t hurt him—them—anyone!”
It would have come off less whiny and beg-y if Nadya had some plan to distract Isadora, all of her vampire mafia guards, all the vampire mafia fetishists on the other side of the curtain, and get everyone out alive and intact. But she doesn’t — so the look the vampiress gives her — the one that screams ‘I had no respect for you to begin with but you’ve definitely lost some regardless’ — is justified.
Finally Isadora raises a single brow. “Well?”
“W-What?”
The younger of the women near her desk giggles under her shroud. The other shoots her a look — maybe? She definitely looks that way and it definitely shuts her up.
“I assumed you had more to your impassioned plea,” de la Rosa leans back in her chair, “but if that is not the case…”
Nadya opens her mouth but all that comes out is a long, deep, and extremely masculine groan. Oh thank god that wasn’t her.
“Why are you pulling this, Izzy?” Which is apparently not a nickname that’s public knowledge because oh dear god they are so going to die right now. “This is a stunt your father would pull.”
Isadora’s features flicker in obvious annoyance. “Did anyone ask you, Cadence?” She snaps. “Tony, cut out his tongue.”
“Tony don’t you dare.”
Tony probably would — if he could reach that high. “Didn’t I tell you to shut it?”
“Anthony.”
“Y-Yes ma’am!”
Calling it chaos would be a kind understatement. And Nadya can’t even tell if Cadence is doing anything on purpose; all of these little irritants that make one woman laugh and distract another and fluster Tony and make Isadora look ready to—
Nadya blinks and Adrian’s a blur — then he’s a blur with a stake that he hurls to the floor before taking his captor’s head in both hands. He doesn’t look like Adrian again and the sight of it has her more terrified than anything that’s happened so far.
“Let. them. go.” He grits in even measure. “Or I rip her head off.”
To her credit Isadora takes the threat coolly and in stride. “Will you now?”
“We came here willingly, Isadora. None of this hostility is necessary.”
“We shall have to agree to disagree on that.”
“Let them go and we can talk — like civilized people.”
Slowly she stands, does up the button at the bottom of her blazer and smooths down her skirt. More Wall Street than kinkfest. “What about this has given you the impression I want to talk about anything? You have power, Raines, I’ll give you that. So I forgave you for slighting me once. But you know what they say… Happens once, shame on me. Happens twice… ensure it doesn’t happen a third time.”
Lily squirms. “That’s… not a thing people say, like at all.”
“Lil’.”
“Well it’s not!”
But thankfully Isadora is too fixated on Adrian to have noticed.
“Examples have to be made,” she continues, “and what message would I be sending my Family if I were to let you wander my city unpunished?”
Adrian growls. “There were extenuating circumstances.”
“There are always extenuating circumstances with you.” But Isadora doesn’t meet Adrian’s eyes as she says it — Nadya catches her looking away from Cadence with a sigh. “I have a responsibility to keep me and mine safe.”
“We aren’t the threat.”
She answers with silence and pursed lips. The tension in the room shifts uncomfortably — and just like that Adrian seems to realize he’s the one holding a woman hostage. Conflict paints thick across his face as he takes in their options, the faces of the foreign vampires watching his every move.
Resigned, he lets the de la Rosa vampire go. Steps back with hands held up.
Nadya lets out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. It sends her into a coughing fit and draws his attention — distracts Adrian just enough for the older of the veiled women to come up at his side with a new stake sharp at his ribs.
But it’s with an unparalleled relief that she sees her Adrian again in his concern.
“Nadya, are you okay?”
She nods and swallows air like it’s in short supply. “Fine and dandy. Are you?”
He doesn’t answer.
Only now they’re back in the same predicament and this time without any element of surprise. And she does not want to die in a fetish club in New Orleans…
At least not without telling Kamilah how sorry she is.
The dark rug muffles the tap-tap of the Southern vampire’s heels as she approaches Adrian; closes the space between them. “If you’re going to threaten anyone, Raines, next time it had better be me.”
“Noted.”
She clenches a fist at her side but has the willpower not to raise it. “Why are you back in my territory anyway?”
Behind her, Cadence swallows audibly. Before Adrian can even open his mouth she’s turned her back on him. Knows now he’s not the one she should be questioning.
The pained frustration of decision furrows Isadora’s dark brow. “You idiot… can’t you see, Cadence, that this is exactly what I meant when I said I wanted you far away from us? You invite trouble — worse than that, you are oblivious to the fact.”
His broad shoulders slump. “You’re the one who brought out the stakes.”
“I gave you what you wanted. Why do you insist on complicating my life? Why could you not take your lead and leave the Quarter?”
He recoils, affronted. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “What? I — this is my home just as much as it is yours.”
“I think we both know that not to be the case.”
“Izz—”
“No, not you,” she presses a finger to his lips; Cadence falls silent, “someone else… you.”
Nadya’s nerve drops out of her stomach when Isadora decides to round on her. Nadya does not handle herself well in front of powerful women in business attire, and if her current track record is anything to go by she’s not exactly going to be their saving grace here.
“Me?”
“You, yes. What was your name again?”
She feels like she’s eaten fancy cheese; but she endures. “Nadya, I’m Nadya.”
“And why do you keep such unusual company, Nadya?”
Well that’s not what she was expecting. “How do you know it’s not the other way around?”
“Because you don’t look like a pet human. At least not like the ones out there.” Isadora waves a hand towards the main club. “And because you seem to have an acute understanding of what is happening here. You have not dissolved into panic, and you wear the claim of a vampire not present with us on your wrist.”
The heavy hand leaves her shoulder and Isadora approaches sultry; catlike. She reaches forward and takes Nadya’s hand in her own — strokes her thumb over a knuckle and for a moment she almost thinks the vampiress is going to kiss the back of it.
Instead she turns Nadya’s wrist up and examines the way the dim lighting catches her bracelet. Isadora speaks low, now; so low Nadya strains to hear her.
“Is Kamilah Sayeed here, as well? How is she doing these days?”
“You know Kamilah?” Of course she knows Kamilah. Why are you even surprised?
Isadora doesn’t break her hold. Nadya knows exactly what will happen if she tries to take it upon herself to separate them though. “That was not an answer.”
“No — No she’s not here. She stayed in New York.”
Isadora seems amused, which in Nadya’s opinion is a welcome change from murderous. But they definitely can — and probably do — exist in the same house.
“Why are you and your friends in my city?”
Nadya tries to look over her shoulder to Adrian. Hoping; praying he could somehow give her something to say. Because all she can think is the truth and telling everyone the truth isn’t exactly part of the plan.
Adrian sees her panic. “She’s got nothing to do with this, Isadora. Leave her alone.”
“See the more you say that, Raines, the more I think you’re not telling me the truth. So, Nadya, I’ll ask again.”
“Isadora —”
He’d probably do better yelling at a brick wall. She finds it all too easy to ignore him; let him fade into the background as she leans down and close to Nadya’s face. Tilts her chin up with a dark and manicured fingertip.
“Why are you and your friends in my city?”
Vampires can’t hypnotize people, right? Like, Adrian and Kamilah would have made it a point to tell her if vampires could hypnotize people, right? If Jax and Maricruz had shared some innate vamp-y hypnosis secret with Lily, then Lily would have told her, right?
Nadya can’t say she’s ever been hypnotized before so she isn’t certain but wow does it feel like Isadora’s trying to hypnotize her. Making her look deep into her eyes, red and practically glowing with pupils narrowed into slits and the way her voice curls around her words is… is really pretty and…
Holy mother of crap can vampires hypnotize people?!
While Adrian struggles to peer over Isadora’s shoulder to see exactly why Nadya’s gone so quiet, Cadence doesn’t have to. He’s had enough of whatever the heck this is, apparently, and pushes Tony off of him and into the nearest wall with startling ease.
“No — this is too far, Isadora, she’s human for god’s sake!” He gets to them before anyone else can stop him. “Get out of her mind before you do any damage.”
Not that she listens. Maybe she can’t listen. Nadya’s definitely having a harder time hearing the room around them so suffice to say it’s the same for Isadora, right?
Get out of her mind.
Oh god. Get out of my mind. You can’t see what’s in there.
She feels frozen, trapped and bound in a vice of her own skin. But it isn’t something she’s never felt before. She has, and rather recently too. The only difference is Jameson connected them at her temples. Isadora de la Rosa does just as well using only her eyes.
Get out, please. You can’t see.
Why can I not, Nadya? Show me.
I just can’t. You — You won’t like it. She doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like it one bit.
How about I make that decision for myself?
“What are you standing around for?” shouts Lily. “Get her away! Nadya, can you hear me? Nadya!”
But Cadence hesitates; hands hovering just over them. “If I break the connection while Izzy’s pressing in… it might not go well.”
Lily looks to Adrian in a panic. “Dude!”
“Cadence, it’s okay. Do it.”
He frowns at Adrian; his glasses slip down his nose. “She’s a powerful psychic, Adrian. I don’t want Nadya to get hurt.”
“She won’t be. Break them up.”
Can someone break us up, please?!
Why are you resisting me? What are you hiding?
“But —”
“Nadya’s not the one who’ll be hurt! Just—listen to me and do it!”
Convicted and terrified, Cadence places his hands on the backs of their necks and pulls.
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When Nadya opens her eyes she knows, objectively, that there’s been a passage of time. But the usual sluggishness, the feeling like she’s emerging from a pit of black sludge isn’t there. Somehow, she was both conscious… and not.
The carpet is itchy under her palms and Nadya might have shattered her tail bone into a thousand pieces. It sure feels that way. Adrian holds her halfway upright with a hand firm in the middle of her back. She’s grateful that he’s both worried and cautious enough to keep from touching her directly; and instead his hand hovers just shy of her face.
“Nadya, can you hear me?”
But that’s Lily’s voice — oh, Lily’s there too. She speaks again but slower; “How many fingers am I holding up?”
She squints. Everything is still blurry.
“I don’t… I can’t…” then it hits her, “you’re holding up my glasses, aren’t you?”
They fall into her waiting hand. When everything comes into clear (if smudged with a stampede of fingerprints) view Nadya looks up to see Lily beaming.
“She’s in the clear.”
“No,” comes Isadora’s growl from somewhere not in her immediate reach—thank god, “none of you are.”
It’s a little relieving that Nadya wasn’t the only one thrown on her butt. But Isadora’s recovery is faster and that’s a big yikes. She pushes the worried faces and reaches of her subordinates aside and stands on her own. She tries to smooth herself back to her previous perfection but the damage is done — there’s no changing the tension coiling tightly inside her, or the wild uncertainty in her eyes.
Something happened — Nadya’s foggy on exactly what but she knows that much. Just like she knows the look Isadora’s giving her.
She knows.
A ragged groan breaks the silence and all eyes turn to Cadence who was somehow also thrown off his feet; only he doesn’t have anyone to check up on him. Nadya gives a pleading look to Lily and immediately she’s at his side. He’s groggy, but despite the shaking in his arms he can hold himself up. He’ll live — long enough for her to thank him anyway.
Isadora has never been the type to be at a loss for words. Nadya can see it now; decades of being loud, being harsh; whatever it took to be respected in the world. Whatever it took to carry on the de la Rosa name and legacy.
The city hadn’t even given her the chance to mourn him.
“You shouldn’t be possible,” she whispers, and Nadya laughs — says the vampire.
Adrian looks between them with growing confusion. “What happened?”
She pats at his arm and he gets the hint; helps Nadya and her knocking knees to stand. She’s tired of being looked down on by them, believe it or not, so if she can look Isadora in the eyes then she’s going to.
“You wanted to know why we were here, in New Orleans,” Nadya speaks slowly to keep her voice from betraying just how shaken up she really feels, “well now you do.”
When Nadya closes her eyes she can see it; the Amulet of Nero. In flashes of printed-out pictures on Adrian’s office wall and resting cupped in Cadence’s palms and held dangling by the chain up to the light of this very office; reverent — and solemn, too. A gift from someone given up a long time ago.
All that through Isadora’s eyes.
Nadya sighs and rubs her aching temple. “She doesn’t have the Amulet.”
Neither Adrian nor Lily hide their shock. “How do you know?” he asks. But how can she reasonably say she just does?
When Isadora steps forward one of the veiled women reaches out to try and stop her. Nadya can feel the energy—uneasy-uncertain-doubtful-fearful-of-the-unknown—coming from the Southern vampires like waves of endless nausea. But her hand is batted away. Isadora is the only one certain of anything right now.
“You’re right,” she answers in measured caution, “the Amulet is no longer in my possession. But I can tell you where it is… and, should you be willing, try and help you get it back.”
Murmurs of confusion ripple out from the other vampires. Isadora shrugs them off — her intense focus on Nadya strong; stalwart.
You’ve seen what’s at stake. What could—will—happen if we don’t.
Yes, I have.
Nadya nods.
“We could use all the help we can get.”
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carmenlire · 5 years
Text
Slipping Under
read on ao3
Standing in the doorway, Maryse presses unsteady hands to her middle.
She tries to take a deep breath but finds that she can’t quite manage it. The best she can do is a sort of desperate, choking inhale and things are dire indeed as the man sitting at her son’s bedside doesn’t flinch, acts for all the world like he’s unaware of her presence-- oblivious to the medics in the room, all of his attention focused on Alec.
That first step into the infirmary takes more strength than Maryse thought she had. She doesn’t want to get closer and see just how thready her son’s lifeline is, doesn’t want to face what the other end of the phone call promised less than an hour ago. As she nears the bed, she sees the claw marks in Alec’s side, stretching from just below his ribs to just above his hip. They’re vicious streaks of black-streaked crimson and a sob builds in her throat.
Venomous ichor, she thinks and the pit in her stomach digs a little deeper, leaves her nauseous and terrified.
Magnus doesn’t look up as she nears. No, his gaze is glued to his husband, both of his hands clutching one of Alec’s. In what she thinks must be an unconscious move, he’s twisting Alec’s wedding ring, a tiny compulsive tick as his unglamoured eyes stay fastened to the man in front of him.
Maryse doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to shift his attention. She just takes the empty chair on her son’s other side and lowers herself gently. It feels like she’s aged a century in the past forty minutes.
The drone of the heart rate monitor is steadying. Every beat means Alec is still alive, that he’s still fighting.
Now that she’s closer, Maryse sees her son in all his shadowhunter glory and it makes her sick to her stomach.
Bruises litter his body. There are half a dozen iratzes drawn over his heart, his abdomen, his thigh. She sees the bones of his arm knitting back together under scraped flesh and her heart clenches.
There are other marks, though. These are old-- the scar that runs parallel to his clavicle, an old wound clumsily and hastily healed from when he’d taken a tumble during training, dozens of tiny scars from the endless recoil of his bowstring.
There are scores of marks that proclaim her child a soldier, a warrior with the angel’s blessing.
As Maryse studies her son’s prone form, a piece of her heart grieves. It steals her breath, the overwhelming sorrow she has for what’s become of her eldest. If she'd known now what she knew then, she would've taken her children and run as far and fast from this world as she could. This world makes children grow up too damned fast, robs them of their childhood and does its best to carve their hearts right from their chests before they're even old enough to understand what they're losing.
It's a zero sum gave and the Clave is always the damned victor.
The infirmary staff work quietly in the background and Maryse moves her chair over to give them more room. Magnus doesn’t move and no one dares suggest he do so.
Watching as shadowhunters do everything they can to save their leader, Maryse is left alone with her thoughts.
Eventually, a salve is spread over the claw marks before it's bandaged with pristine strips of cotton. The color contrast is striking, covering up such angry wounds, but it worries her, how Alec’s skin seems leached of all color, blending in with the linen.
Long hours pass and Jace and Izzy stop by for long visits before exhaustion pulls them both to their bedrooms. Patrol had been so brutal that night and her other children had applied iratzes as well to stave off the consequences of a hard battle.
Through it all, Alec doesn’t move. He doesn’t twitch, doesn’t grunt in pain. There are no snores and that causes another little pang in Maryse’s heart.
Alec’s snored since he was just a toddler. Back then they’d been cute little snuffles that had made her chest ache with love. The few times she’d roused him as a teenager, they’d morphed until it was like a buzzsaw was sounding in his bedroom.
She wonders dryly how Magnus sleeps in the same room with the man.
Looking over, she smiles wanly at the sight-- Magnus’s eyes are closed, his chin resting on his chest in a position that will prove extremely painful later. His hands haven’t moved from Alec’s. Maryse is just set to get up, maybe urge Magnus to take Alec’s old bedroom or even set up a cot here when she stills.
Magnus groans a little, blinking open gold eyes blearily. She watches as his gaze flies to Alec’s face, panicked, hoping for a change before his shoulders slump even more when he sees that there’s no change at all.
His hands tighten on Alec’s and then he’s gingerly moving his chair so that his knees are flush to the bedside. He carefully leans forward until he can rest his head beside Alec’s uninjured side, on scratchy utilitarian sheets. He doesn’t seem to be aware that he’s not alone in the shadows of the infirmary. It strikes her that this scene is incongruous with who most believe Magnus to be. There is no elegance in his slouch and sharp eyes are red rimmed and exhausted. There is no pride in the man on the other side of the bed, just hope and endurance. He is not the High Warlock tonight, in this room. He is simply Mr. Lightwood-Bane, a worried husband.
Maryse watches her son-in-law turn his head so that he can look up at Alec and there’s a love there that’s so deep it steals her breath.
She’s never known that kind of devotion. It fills her with not an inconsiderable amount of awe and relief that her son found someone who looks at him like he’s not just their sun but the whole damn universe.
Magnus falls asleep like that and she doesn’t have it in her to disturb him. It’s like his whole body sags toward the bed and the exhaustion that must have been riding him hard has disappeared, albeit temporarily.
Left alone with her thoughts, Maryse finds twining shades of grief and regret seeping into her gut. For the longest time, her children were nothing more than additions to the Institute’s roster, a mercenary way to outrun her own disastrous missteps.
As she studies her son in the low light, shame scalds her throat. She was a worthless mother-- horrid, selfish, cold.
She thinks about how many times she could’ve lost Alec and the others. She thinks about her son who was once her pride and joy and how many times she slammed the metaphorical door in his face.
By the grace of the angel, Maryse has found her second chance. It haunts her sometimes-- often-- how little she recognizes the woman she’d grown into. Tonight is the latest in a long line of times Alec’s been injured.
It strikes her now, though, how close she’s come countless times to losing Alec.
Tears well in her eyes and she bites back a sob at the realization. It’s another side of a coin she’s flipped dozens of times over the past few years, another light bulb that illuminates just how low she’d sunk and how much she still has to go before she’s finally free from the hole she’d dug herself.
Most days Maryse resigns herself to never seeing total sunshine again.
Laying a gentle hand on Alec’s knee, she smooths away imperceptible wrinkles from the sheet that covers him up to his waist.
There was a time she knew Alec, her darling baby boy, better than anyone else. She knew his favorite color was blue and his favorite food chocolate cake with almonds and that he loved the giraffes at the zoo with a passion reserved only for five year old boys without a care in the world.
Then she’d changed and Alec had followed suit and she mourns the boy he’d turned into-- the boy she’d turned him into with her cold words and biting contempt.
She was so blind, she thinks now. Looking back, the signs were all there but she’d been too stupid and too full of herself to realize and there’s not a day that goes by when she doesn’t wish she’d done something, something different.
She’d thought his training sessions were nothing more than a boy’s attempts to make his mother proud. Maryse hadn’t known that they were punishments, not at first, and by the time she had she’d been apathetic.
And then there was the morning she’d surprised her Institute by returning from Idris early. She’d watched Alec and his parabatai train and she’d known what those looks meant, the lingering glances Alec stole when he thought Jace wasn’t looking.
It had killed her to see them, to realize what they meant. She’d never stopped to wonder what Alec must be thinking, feeling, inside the cold walls of the Institute. Her treatment had become even more abrasive after that day and it sickens her now to remember the way she’d looked at her son and seen a failure, a disappointment.
She’d mostly washed her hands of him after that, his only value as a soldier. When he’d proposed to Lydia, she’d been pleasantly surprised-- fuck, she’d been over the damned moon.
Her eyes drop down to Alec’s hand resting near hers. Oh so carefully, she covers it with her own and she smiles even as her heart aches, as it bleeds out for the mother she’d been and the mother Alec had needed.
So foolish, she thinks now. So terrible.
Still, Maryse hadn’t seen anything amiss until the night of Max’s rune ceremony.
It had taken seeing Alec falling over a ledge for her to realize just how much damaged she’d done.
What kind of mother, she used to think, could let her child suffer so much without knowing?
She’d been that mother and shame burns through her.
Her thumb strokes over scarred flesh in gentle sweeps and she knows these particular scars are a biting reminder of everything Alec’s been through.
He’s stronger than she knew, stronger than he should’ve ever had to be.
As Maryse watches over her son, she knows that she’s a different person, infinitely better. While Alec may have forgiven her-- and isn’t that something that stuns her every time she stops to think about it-- Maryse has yet to forgive herself.
She vows for the thousandth time to be there for her family the way she should’ve been all along. She doesn’t want to have any regrets moving forward.
Maryse stays awake until dawn light starts to peak through the stained glass windows in the infirmary. Her eyes burn and her back aches but she doesn’t move.
She watches over her son-- and over Magnus-- and it’s the easiest thing in the world.
When Alec opens his eyes hours later and turns his head, the first thing he sees is his mom, watching him with warm eyes.
It’s a punch to the gut and when she straightens and runs a hand through his hair like she used to do when he was little, he sighs and lets his eyes close once more.
He feels Magnus’s hand in his and with his mom standing watch, he feels the safety net he’d craved for so long fall into place.
It’s more than he’d hoped for all those years, more than he’d thought he'd deserved.
Alec tries to stay awake a few moments more, wanting to sear this onto his hazy memory, but pain pulls at the edges of his conscious and he slips under again to escape.
Maryse stands and leans over her son, bringing her hand down to rest along his cheek. She kisses his forehead and while part of her mourns for the thousands kisses and hugs she’d missed-- thrown away in bitter apathy-- she cherishes this chance and promises herself it’ll become one of countless.
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malecsecretsanta · 5 years
Text
Merry Christmas, @hotaruyuki!
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*****
Caught on camera
It was cold in New York city at this time of the year. Almost cold enough to make Alec wish he could spend his entire day closed in his, not too warm, but significally wamrer office, burried under stacks and stacks of paperwork and a never ending supply of coffee, as bad as the coffee was at the prensict, it was better than no coffee.
He raised his badge as he stepped under the neon coloured tape to approach the body.
"Morning." He nodded towards one of the forensic guys currently kneeling next to the victim.
"Morning detective." The man looked up to Alec, before his gaze travelled to the left, where Alec's partner was dealing with other auhorities.
"What do we have?" Alec asked as he crounched down to examine the body.
"Male victim in his late twenties. No wallet, no phone, nothing. Based on the amount blood around the body and the wounds, he most likely died of blood loss due to numerous punctures that was caused by a sharp object. The murder weapon isn't here so we can't no much for sure until further investigation and a biopsy report."
"How long ago was he killed?"
"Hmmm. Hard to tell. It was freezing last night, which means it took him longer to bleed out, that is, if he died of the blood loss and not from shock or something else." The guy said with a shrug and Alec took a few notes and reminded himself to give a call later to the morgue to see what they could find.
"Thanks." He stood up as he walked over to his partner and the other men.
"Detective Lightwood." Alec said as he shook the hands of the two men.
"This is Miller. I wish we would be meeting under different circumstances. - the man said as he shook his head - I was just telling to your partner, Detective Branwell about the details."
"The victim was found by a man walking his dog this morning. He phoned the police to report the body at--" Lydia trailed off as she quickly took a glimpse of her notes "... well, the call came through at 6.23 am. The victim was dead by then. There were no other witnesses apparently, and he said he didn't see anyone around what so ever."
"Is he here?" Alec looked around, trying to spot anyone who could have been their witness.
"We took his statement and he gave us his contact details, but other than that, he had to go to work. He said you can contact him if you have further questions." Miller said as he handed said statement to Alec.
"Okay. That's great. Thanks." Alec said nodding to himself as he looked into the statement, running through it quickly. There was not much. Or nothing rather. Alec supressed an eye roll, finger tapping on the notepad. It was three sentences, not even a proper paragraph. It was far from a statement.
"Statement.. yeah, sure." He murmured to himself under his breath.
Lydia looked around in the alleyway before she spoke.
"Do you think the neighbours could have seen something?"
"We doubt it. There are no windows from either side and it is a dead end. The only way anyone could have seen anything, is if they walked past right at the moment of murder. There is only one lamp post here, meaning that even if someone walked past, they probably wouldn't have seen much, especially not with a glance." John said as he parted his arms in a way that it showed he had not much hope of getting to the end of this case.
"We should still make an announcement. Maybe it would help to identify our guy." Alec said as he looked towards the body, whom now was being covered in a black sheet, read to be sent to the morgue for further examinations.
__________
"I'll deal with the press. You buy lunch." Lydia said as they stepped out of the lift into the precinct. Alec was happy with that deal. He didn't mind public speaking but was also aware that, one, Lydia was a hell better in it than him, two, they would feel better about coming forward if they see her than if they see him. He was tall and didn't exactly seemed like the type of guy who could make a witness feel comfortable and willing to talk.
That's why he usually handled the interrogations.
It worked best this way. They both knew it, that's why they worked well together.
"Oh, by the way. I saw how you looked at the guy." Alec said with a grin.
"What are you talking about?" Lydia stopped suddenly as if she walked into a wall that just materialised out of thin air.
"You and John. Sitting in a tree.. K-I-" Alec stopped as Lydia threw her pen at him.
"You are so not funny Lightwood. And just for the record, our relationship is entirely professional." She said with a deadpan face.
"Aha." Alec was still grinning at her.
"Look. He is a great guy. I like him. But we have a murder to solve. I have no time for dating."
"Is that how you like to call it?" Alec asked before stepping into his office with a quick side step, successfully avoiding whatever else Lydia tried to throw at him this time.
...
He was on his second coffee as he finished the report for their case. It was terribly short. No name for the victim, no suspect, no murder weapon. They had nothing apart from the guy who found him, who can't even be called as witness considering that all he saw was the guy lying dead on the asphalt.
He swirled his pen around his fingers, when his phone finally rang.
"Lightwood." He said grabbing his pen, ready to take notes.
"Lightwood." Came to female voice, making Alec smile.
"Izzy. Hey. Have you got anything for me?"
"Well, I hate being the party boomer but not much. He was stabbed seven times, none of them were especially deep to hit any organs. One of the stabs damaged an artery, which eventually caused the death of our victim. He bled out. Was probably killed between 2 and 4 am. No sign of struggle apart from a few scratches on his knuckles. I found no DNA other than the victims. Not on his clothes or body. The blood found on the scene was all his. Sorry big brother."
Alec sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Not good. Not fucking good.
He was hoping that they would at least find some DNA that they could run in their database. The victim's DNA came back negative, so they were still unable to identify him.
"What about the murder weapon?"
"A knife. Roughly 4 inch in length. Nothing special. Could have been literally out of the killer's kitchen."
"Tell me about the stabs. You said none of them hit the organs."
"Nope. I don't know if it was sheer luck or deliberate. The penetrations seemed to be... angry. Like the killer literally shoved it into his body over and over again. There was no hesitation in the cuts."
"There were no belongings found with the victim. We assumed it was a mugging gone wrong." Alec said as he picked up his pen, to swirl it around his fingers once more. He leaned back in his chair as he listen to his sister.
"Well, you are the detective. It's your job to find out about the motives. But what I mean is.. I think it was a bit too intense, to be over couple of dollars. The guy didn't seem loaded. He was wearing average clothing. Nothing fancy. If I want to mug someone, he wouldn't be my first choice. Or the fifth."
Alec hmm-d as he ran a hand through his hair.
He doubted they would be able to solve the case. They had nothing.
"Thanks Izzy. I'll go and see if Lydia is done with the press and I'll let her know about what you found out for us."
"Okay. I'll call you if there is anything more."
"Thanks. Love you."
"Love you too." Izzy replied in a sing-songy tone as she hang up.
...
"Hey TV star." Alec said as he handed a mug of steaming coffee over for Lydia. They were both standing in the canteen, looking up to the small, old TV that was here probably since opening this precinct.
Lydia rolled her eyes as she took the mug from Alec and looked up at the reflection of herself on the TV.
"If anyone has any information that could help our investigation please call our office on the phone below with the reference number of 3329 or come into the office and ask for my self or my partner, Detective Lightwood. This was -"
The screen went black as Lydia placed down the TV remote with a sigh.
"Hey! I was watching it." Alec said with a gasp.
"Why don't you tell me what your sister found instead of mocking me?"
"It's not much. He was stabbed seven times, no organs were affected. Died between 2 and 4 am due to blood loss. No foreign DNA. Could be personal."
"Once we find out who the victim is, we might be able to get going with this case, but until then.. there is nothing we can do." Lydia said with a sigh that was both tired and frustrated before walking towards the door.
"Who knows? Maybe someone saw something and they will come forward." Alec shouted after her.
"As if." Lydia said, not even bothering to look back.
...
It was five in the afternoon and Alec was more than ready to call it a day. Lydia sent her a text twenty minutes ago, saying that she was going home. They've been in since six this morning. He was tired and had absolutely nothing to do. He spent the last half an hour starring at the image of their victim while quietly muttering 'who are you?' to himself, even if he knew the guy would hardly answer from behind his screen.
He almost jumped out of his seat when someone knocked on his door.
"Come in." Alec answered as he sat up straight, clearing his throat.
"There is a man here, looking to speak to you." Underhill said as he looked at Alec.
He was an other detective working at the precinct, currently involved in some drug-dealing-drama, which Alec was more than happy not to be involved in.
"Sure. Send him in." Alec said and watched his colleague stepping back out and letting a man to march into his office.
Alec wasn't sure if it was due to the way the man basically ran into his office or perhaps his extravagant appearance, coloured strikes in his hair, glitter and kohl around his eyes, not mentioning the teal coloured trench coat that flied behind the man in his hurry.
"Can I help you?" Alec asked with a frown and he wondered if it was a good idea to take out his authoritative voice straight away.
"I.. I have it on camera." The man panted as he held his phone in his hand. Alec had tried to focus on the man's words instead of his black painted nails and numerous ringers, but he was only human.
"What?"
"The murder.. I have it on camera." The man repeated once more as he looked into Alec's eyes.
...
Alec was sitting in the interrogation room a camera placed on the side, turned off.
The man was opposite of him on the other side of the table, his phone in his hands as he watched Alec to open his folder containing the details of his current case.
"So. I'm Alec Lightwood. Detective Lightwood, one of the two detectives dealing with the homicide." Go on Alec...
"Yeah, I saw it on TV." The man nodded.
"Why did you only come forward now? With the evidence, I mean."
"Well, I didn't know I had it at the first place. Not until your partner mentioned the exact location of the..incident. That's when I realised that I was nearby last night and I was making a video, so I checked it.. you know.. in case I have something. It was a silly idea, I mean..what's the chance right? But then I saw it."
"Can I see?" Alec asked with a frown. The man nodded and after a few seconds he handed his phone over to Alec, who pressed the play button.
He had to lean closer to see, the footage was very bad, as if the man was waving around with his phone, then the movement stopped for a second and Alec realised that they way the first camera was facing it was showing a scene behind the man, a scene that was the exact same where they found the body. He paused the video, but due to the darkness there weren't much he could see. Apart from a body lying on the ground with a blonde male leaning over him.
__________
"Wait, what?!" Lydia looked at Alec the next morning like he had two heads all of a sudden.
"Yep. A guy came in yesterday after you left. He saw you asking for witnesses and he realised that he caught something on camera.
"No way." She was smiling at Alec as they walked towards his office.
"It's not much, but more than what we had before." Alec said as he played to video for her.
"Wait.. wait.. go back." Lydia said as the scene just started to play.
"It hasn't even showed them yet." Alec said as he moved the little dot to go back a few seconds.
"I know. The guy. The guy who caught this on tape."
"What about him?" Alec asked as he stopped the video at a moment that showed the face of their witness.
"He is Magnus Bane." Lydia said with a shocked expression.
"Yeah?.." Alec had no idea what that had anything to do with any of it, or how Lydia even knew him.
"I always forget that you aren't one for social media and what not." Lydia said as she rolled her eyes.
"Your point?" Alec asked as he mimicked her move and rolled his eyes with a bored sigh.
"He is Magnus Bane. One of the most famous youtuber."
"A what now?"
"A youtuber. He has millions of subscribers. He travels. A lot. To everywhere. He shares his experience with others." She said as she pulled out her own phone, showing the man's account on YouTube for Alec to see.
"See. This was just after he returned from Peru." Lydia said as he started a video.
"Hello everyone and welcome back to my channel." The man said with a smile as he laughed into the camera. It was the kind of laugh that seemed to be hard to hold back.
"Okay. So, for those who missed my last episode, if you did so, check it out, it's gold, I've been to Peru and spent a wonderful ten days there. Now.." He stopped as he started laugh once more, hiding his face behind his hand. Alec tried not to pay too much attention to the fact that his nails were now painted bright blue. "The trip was great, but that's not what this video is about. It's more about this." He said as he laughed, holding up a piece of paper. Alec had to lean closer to be able to read it. The man kept giggling in the back as Alec cut him off by pausing the video abruptly.
"He got banned from Peru?!" He looked at Lydia in shock who seemed to be amused about the whole situation.
"I know right? It's hilarious. He never revealed why, but it was nothing illegal or serious since he hasn't been charged." She said with a wave of her hand.
"Okay, so he is a famous youtuber, who blogs about his trips." Alec said with a shrug.
"A vlogger." Lydia said as she raised a finger, mockingly scolding Alec for the incorrect use of the term.
"Do you want to see the video that actually matters? The one showing or suspect?" Alec asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Yeah. Sorry." Lydia said, her entire being shifted to professional.
__________
"Mr Lightwood." A cheerful voice called after Alec once he stepped out of the precinct. His head snapped towards the voice, his eyebrows raised so high it almost disappeared in his hair.
"Mr Bane. What can I do for you?" Alec asked with a frown.
"Just Magnus. No need to be so formal." The man said with a wave and a wide smile.
"How can I help?" Alec asked instead.
"I was just wondering if the footage was any use in your investigation." Magnus said coyly.
"Unfortunately I can't share information about on ongoing case with you." Alec said in his most apologetic tone.
"Oh well.. that is completely understandable." Magnus said with an oh-so-sweet smile, one that made Alec wonder if he would see anything about this on the man's YouTube channel if he decided to pay it a visit.
"I know you are a youtuber. But I honestly hope that this entire case can stay out of your..fans.. view." Alec said clumsily, not sure whether people watching the man going on holidays could be called fans.
"My viewers you mean. And no. I make videos about my trips and not about murder investigations. Plus, I wouldn't want to risk jeopardizing your work." The man said with a smile that was a lot sincere than the ones before.
"That's...that's great. I.. uhm. thank you." Alec said with a nod as he looked at the man. His cheeks were slightly rosy from the cold. He were wearing leather gloves, the same coat he were the other day with a large scarf around his neck.
"For how long have you been standing here, exactly?" Alec asked with a frown.
The man just let out a deep laugh as he shook his head.
"You should work less and travel more Alexander." The man smiled as he walked away from Alec.
Alec looked after the man before he realised it started snowing. It was the first snow in New York.
__________
"Good news Lightwood!" Lydia said as she marched into Alec's office with a piece of paper.
"Thank fuck. What is it?" Alec asked as leaned back in his chair and took the sheet from her.
"Our victim. The twenty-nine year old Elias Whitmore. He lived in Brooklyn, alone. Worked at a bank. He was reported missing after he failed to show up for work. His boss contacted his emergency contact numbers, his father and a friend of his. His father doesn't live in the country, he hasn't heard from him in a week which wasn't unusual, his friend went over to his apartment but no one answered when he knocked. So, he contacted the police to report him, and with the photograph he provided, we were able to identify him as our former John Doe." Lydia said with her arms crossed in front of her chest.
"Did he know anyone who could have wanted his death?" Alec asked as he checked the address and what not.
"Nope. He said everyone loved Elias. He was kind and always had a nice word for everyone. He has no idea who could possibly harm him." She said shaking her head.
"Any partners?" Alec asked.
"Not that we know of. Apparently, he was bisexual but had no relationship in years now."
"Okay. Let's go to his workplace first then see if his neighbours can tell us anything." Alec said, already jumping out of his chair.
"I can't.." Lydia said as she looked down, avoiding eye contact with Alec.
"Why not?" He asked, rather surprised.
"The captain asked me to work on a case with Underhill."
"The drug-dealing thing?"
"Yes. They found some female victims. He knows I have experience with vulnerable female victims.. he wants me to help questioning them."
"Oh, okay." Alec said, it was alright, it's not like they never did questioning alone. It wasn't unheard of removing someone from once case in order to support another one.
"Let me know if you find out anything."
"Will do." Alec said with a smile as he walked out of his office.
...
"Not you again." Alec said as he basically ran into Magnus in the foyer.
"Detective. What a surprise." He beamed at Alec.
"Seriously.. aren't you supposed to fly to the Bahamas or somewhere?" Alec asked with an eyeroll as he watched the man joining him in the lift.
"I'm just back from my latest trip. I need some rest." He answered as he played with his ear cuffs. Alec tried not to stare him too much. His hair was different, instead of the dark blue strike, now it was white. His coat was different, a dark maroon colour, slightly longer this time. He was wearing a studded boots with pointy toes.
"Most people go for a holiday as a break." Alec said with his eyebrows raised as he shuffled out of the lift, heading for the main door.
"Yeah..well. So, how are you?" Magnus asked and Alec stopped abruptly.
"I am working on a murder case. I'm going to question some people who worked or knew our victim." He said after a moment. It wasn't exactly againts the rules to tell as much and he had the fleeing suspicion that Magnus wouldn't leave until he feeds him some information at least.
"Oh. So, you successfully identified him. That's great news. Where is your lovely partner?" He asked with a smile.
"She is currently busy, working on another case." Alec said as he pushed the doors open and stepped into the cold air. It was dry at least.
"That's means you are on your own to solve the case?"
"I don't need anyone else to help me solve a case." Alec said almost offended.
"I was just thinking that I could... accompany you."
"Absolutely not." He shook his head vehemently.
"Why?"
"Because you are a civilian. I can't let you get involved." Alec said with some frustration.
"I know. I know.. I just.. I just want to help." Magnus said as licked his lips.
"Why? I mean... you already did. You had that footage. Without that, we wouldn't even know who to look for." Not that they did. All they had is a glimpse of blonde hair.
"Because I was there! I could have.. maybe if I wouldn't have been too busy looking myself in my phone to post about some restaurant I just went to.. I would have seen the guy, I would have found him while he was alive. I could have saved him!" Magnus said, almost shouting.
Alec took a deep breath as he closed his eyes.
"Look. I know it is hard. I know you feel guilty..even if you have absolutely no reason to do so. It's not your fault that you couldn't save him. But I need to do my job." Alec said as he placed his hand on the man's shoulder.
Magnus looked at Alec's hand before looking into his eyes.
"Okay. But if there is anything I can do.. well, you know where to find me." He said with a tiny smile as he stepped away from Alec.
...
Alec sat in his car as he leaned back with a sigh. He didn't find out much from Elias' colleagues. Apparently he was a great guy. Friendly, hard working. Not a single customer has ever complained about him and according to everyone he had a great relationship with everyone at work.
He just hoped he would get something from the neighbours.
He looked at the address before driving onto the main road.
The guy was living on the fifth floor in a ten storey building not far from where he was found dead.
The area was average, not too shady but definitely not an upper-east-side.
No door man, just a list of names and a bell for each apartment.
He didn't exactly trusted in his luck with ringing up houses to get in, but it seemed luck was on his side anyway because as soon as he reached the door a woman just walked out with her dog.
It was one of those white tiny ones that always barked at Alec. He wondered if it was due to his intimidating height.
He smiled at the woman as he slipped into the building.
The lift looked older than any other lift Alec has seen before, so he opted for the stairs instead.
Apart from Elias' apartment, there was four more on the fifth.
He went to the first one on his left and knocked a couple of times.
"I'm coming." Came a voice that sounded more like a groan even through the thick British accent.
"Good afternoon." Alec said with a smile which he hoped to be friendly.
"What do you want?" The man asked as he looked up at down at Alec. He seemed to be in his late forties if not early fifties.
"I'm Detective Lightwood and I'm investigating in the death of your neighbour. Elias Whitmore?" Alec asked as he pointed towards the door behind himself.
"Oh. The boy died? What happened?" The man's express changed suddenly as he looked at the door.
"He was found dead, not far from here."
"Bloody hell. He was so young."
"It is unfortunate. I was hoping that you could help me."
"Now I didn't know him too much. We talked once or twice in passing, but that was about it."
"Did he ever looked distressed? Or even worried when you saw him?"
"Nah. He was always in a grand mood."
"Do you know about any girlfriend or boyfriend?"
"No. I saw him sometimes with some lads, but I think they were just friends."
"Can you recall anytime when there was shouting or arguing coming from his flat?"
"He was a good kid. Quiet. Polite. I don't know anything else." The man said with an apologetic shrug.
"I see. This is my card, give me a call if you do remember something. And thank you so much." Alec said with a smile as he walked to the next door.
The two other tenants all seemed to share the same opinion about the man. Friendly. Kind. Polite. It was started to drive Alec up the fucking wall. As good as it was to hear that the guy was great, it didn't help him with the list of suspects.
He knocked on the last door and waited. He could hear some noises coming from inside, but it seemed that whoever lived there either couldn't hear Alec or couldn't care.
Either way, he wasn't leaving yet.
After two more knockings, both louder each time a woman finally opened the door.
Alec tried to ignore the way the woman looked at him, or her appearance that somehow reminded Alec of an evil Snowhite, with her black her, porcelain white skin and blood red lips.
"Hello. Sorry to bother, but I am Detective Lightwood and I am investigating the murder of Elias Whitmore, your neighbour." Alec said as he looked into the woman's eyes.
"I don't know him." She said with a grimace and was about to shut the door on Alec but before she could have he stopped it with his hand.
"Look, I don't want to cause any trouble, I just would like to ask a few questions." He said moving his hand away from the door.
He could hear a video in the background still playing.
"I'm sorry Detective. But I have know idea who he was. Or what was he like. I only moved here recently. I can't help." She said and this time, she did slammed her door.
Alec closed his eyes with a sigh.
"She is a cunt." A voice came from his left.
Alec looked at the British guy from earlier who now was closing the door of his flat.
"Sorry, didn't want to eavesdrop. But regardless. Camille loves ruining other people's life. If she can give you a headache by not talking to you, she is more than happy to do so. By the way, what she said was bollocks. She did know the guy. Not more than me probably, but she did know him." He said as he walked past Alec.
"Why do you hate her?" Alec asked before being able to stop himself.
"You've met her for two minutes. Don't tell me you like her. I've been living here as her neighbour for five years. Now imagine that." He said with a scoff as he walked to the lift.
Alec frowned to himself as he stood in front of Camille's door. Why did she lie? Saying that she only moved here when in fact, she was living here for at least five years.
He was about to leave when he heard it.
"Thank you for watching guys. This was Magnus from Toronto."
...
"Sorry. I think I heard you wrong. Could you repeat it please?" The man said as he leaned back taking a sip from his coffee.
"If you keep rubbing it in, the deal is off." Alec said as he rolled his eyes.
"Alright. I stop. What do you need me to do?"
"I was trying to question a neighbour. She refused to talk to me, lied about how long she was a tenant for."
"Why do you think she would answer me?"
"Because he is a viewer of yours." He really wanted to use the word fan, just to hurt the man's ego, but considering that he was the one asking for a favour, he decided against it.
"Ahh. YouTube fame." Magnus grinned as he looked at Alec.
"I just need you to go there as a worrying friend of the victim. Ask her if she knows anything." Alec said as he stopped the engine at the building. "Okay. I just need one more thing." Magnus said with his hand on the door handle. "Yeah?" "A name. It would be a bit hard to play the worrying friend while I don't even know my alleged friend's name." He said raising a single eyebrow, and what an arched eyebrow it was.
"Elias. Elias Whitmore." Alec said with a sigh, knowing that he had no other choice.
...
He was just about to go after the man himself where the door suddenly opened a rather flustered Magnus hopped into his car.
"It's been almost twenty minutes!" Alec shouted as he looked at Magnus.
"Fucking hell just drive. I'll tell you on the way."
"A way to where?" Alec asked but still turned the key to start the engine.
"Away from that vampire living on the fifth." He grimaced as he put his seatbelt on.
Alec laughed as he reversed out onto the main road.
"So, did she know anything?" Alec asked after a few minutes of silence, which Magnus spent with being on his phone, tapping away like crazy.
"Nothing much regarding to your investigation. She knew the guy by face, but they never talked."
Alec almost stepped on the break.
"Then what took you twenty minutes?!"
"Listening to her about how much she loves what I do and offering her services to accompany me on my next journey... along with her other services." Magnus shivered.
"That's great. That is just fucking brilliant." Alec cursed as he ran one head through his hair.
"Tell me about it. I don't know what is worth. Listening to her about how much she loves watching me or her blatant flirting." Magnus said.
"I'll feel sorry for you when I have some time." Alec groaned.
"Jealous much?" Magnus looked at him, finally putting his phone away.
"As if."
"Mmmm.. you more into blondes?" Magnus wiggled his brows in a suggestive way and Alec didn't have to be a genius to figure out that he was talking about Lydia.
"Or more into blokes." Alec said as he pulled over at the precinct.
"Well, you can join me on any of my journeys." He smiled, or rather grinned at Alec with a wink.
"Hard pass." Alec said as he waited for Magnus to get out.
"You break my heart Alexander." He gasped mockingly.
"You'll live. But I won't if I don't get to the end of this case sooner than later."
"It was pleasure working with you." Magnus smiled as he got out of the car.
__________
"Lightwood. How is the case going?" Alec snapped his head up at the voice of his captain. "Sir. Eh.. good. I talked to our victims friends, neighbours and the people he worked with. I don't have much for suspect. I am still waiting on my guy to give me some CCTV footages that hopefully captured the suspect. Until then... " He trailed off shyly, not exactly proud of himself for having sweet fuck all even after a few days of investigation. "Well, let's hope the cameras did catch something. I'll need Branwell for the foreseeable future. Let me know if you do find something on our guy. Until then, are you okay working on your own?" The man asked in a way that was slightly suggesting that it would be great if Alec would be okay on his own.
"Sure." He smiled as he nodded at the man.
"Good."
He watched the man walking away before letting out a long breath.
His phone suddenly buzzed with a message.
Hey man. This is the best I could get. Sorry. Jace 04:36pm
There was a picture attached to the message.
To say that it was not much is an under statement. He couldn't see the man's face. He was on the phone with someone, his head tilted down. He spotted a red circle on his neck that could have been a tattoo.
He quickly searched in his database, but there was absolutely nothing he could find even remotely similar.
Internet searches weren't any more helpful.
He was about to pull his hair out in frustration when he spotted something else on the picture.
A card in his hand.
He tried to enlarge a photo but due to the poor quality it wasn't helping.
After a few seconds of hesitation he pulled out his phone with a sigh. He was already regretting this.
"Hey Simon. It's Alec. Could you help me with some IT stuff?" He said and tried not to think about the never ending teasing he will get from Izzy for asking her boyfriend for help.
...
"It seems like it's a business card for a place called Pandemonium. I've never heard of it." Simon said as he looked at the black and white card in their suspects hand.
"That's great. Thanks." Alec said, clapping the boy on the back.
"Do you want me to look into this place?" He asked with a smile that was a bit too eager.
"No. No. I'm good. I got it from here. Thanks." Alec said with a smile that was a bit too forced as he walked Simon out of his apartment.
He sat back in front of his laptop and quickly looked up the place.
"Of fucking course." He groaned as he realised that out of all the nightclubs in New York it had to be one that had their entry based on membership.
Some posh place for sure.
He quickly opened their website trying to see if he could get himself a membership card. Without a solid reason he couldn't use his position to get in let alone question anyone or get any information about other members. Not without a warrant which he would definitely not get. Any jury could argue that holding a business card didn't mean that the man was member in said club.
It turned out that the waiting list was rather long. On the FAQ part, the usual waiting could take up to three months. Alec wanted to cry.
He was just about to close his laptop and call it a day when he spotted an other opened window.
Without thinking much he clicked on it.
"Hello everyone, welcome back to my channel. This is my last day in Barcelona."
3M views. 736K comments.
Hmmmm.
Before he could change his mind, he pulled out his phone and quickly typed out a text.
Do you get free stuff as a youtuber? A 06:02pm
He threw his phone down onto the sofa but before he could wonder long enough whether it was a good or a bad idea, his phone buzzed with an incoming text.
Hello to you too. What free stuff exactly? M 06:11pm
Alec rolled his eyes before texting back.
Hi. And I'd rather talk to you in person. A 06:15pm
I can't live my flat now. My cat has been unwell and I can't leave him alone. Come over. I'll send you the address. M 06:22pm
Alec was not expecting that. But he wasn't about to dance out just because he had to go to Magnus' place.
He tried not to think too much about the man as it is. Alec was not blind. The man was gorgeous and he found him very interesting. He tried to keep their talks to strictly related to the case, even if he was dying to find out why he was banned from Peru or what would be his next destination after his so called break.
The fact that he knew the man was single didn't help. Neither the make up, jewellery or his style for that matter.
He felt like walking into the lion's den by agreeing to visit him in his home.
He thought about changing before going over but he decided against it in case it looked like he was doing it to impress the man. As he stood in front of his door he realised that now he just looks like a workaholic.
Great.
He knocked on the door twice with a deep breath.
"Alexander." Magnus beamed as he opened the door.
Alec blinked a few times and could feel his cheek burning as he looked at the man.
He did change.
He was wearing a black t-shirt that seemed a bit too tight and jeans. Barefoot.
"Sorry for calling this late." He said as he stepped into the flat.
"Don't be silly. I wouldn't have offered you to come over if I didn't want to." Magnus waved as he walked into the living room.
"Still." Alec said as he took his jacket off and after standing lamely for a few seconds he walked over to join Magnus on the couch.
His eyes darted over to a ball of fur in an armchair.
"That is Chairman Meow." Magnus smiled.
"He is cute. Looks soft." Looks. Soft. What the fuck.
Magnus let out a laugh as he looked at Alec.
"He is. Soft. That is. And cute of course. And also sick. But that's not why you are here."
"Right. Yes. Ehm.. have you heard about a place called Pandemonium?" Alec asked, still looking at the cat.
"It's a fancy nightclub I think. Why?" Magnus frowned.
"I need a membership."
Magnus blinked at him a few times as if he tried to process what he just heard.
"For the investigation." Alec added quickly when he realised that it sounded slightly as if he wanted to take advantage of Magnus for personal reasons.
"I see." Magnus said slowly as he pulled his laptop into his lap.
"Here." Alec said as he opened the photo on his phone about their suspect with the card.
"Is that the killer?" He asked as he looked at the picture.
"Yeah. I think he is a member of that club. I don't have enough to march in as a detective, so I thought I would try it in a different way, but their waiting list is as long as the Great Wall in China." He grimaced.
"It is a fancy place. I've been there once." Magnus said matter-of-factly as he typed away.
"Really? Without a membership? How?"
"Yes. Really. It was before the whole membership was a thing." He said with a shrug, looking at his screen.
"I see. Was it any good?" Alec asked, this time with actually curiosity.
"Well.. how about we go and see?" Magnus looked up at Alec grinning.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Alec looked at the screen with proper shock. On the screen was an email containing two electronic membership cards.
"I have millions of people following me Alexander. On every social media platforms. I could literally ask someone to lend me a kid for a day and would probably have at least 5 by midnight." He said with a sardonic smile.
"It's crazy." Alec said without blinking as he shook his head. Some people's infatuation was beyond normal. Or healthy.
"You would be surprised." Magnus said with a coy smile. "I might be able to get my friend, Cat, to come over and watch Chairman for a few hours after her shift at the hospital. We can go tonight." Magnus added.
"I.. look. I am very grateful, but I don't want to drag you into this."
"Nonsense. I found a way to get us in. I am definitely coming." Magnus said with a laugh and Alec had the feeling that an army would not be enough to hold the man back.
"Alright." Alec smiled genuinely.
"I'll see you here at ten?" It was just coming up to eight.
"Sure." Alec said as he wondered if he even had anything to wear to a place like this.
"Great. That gives me two hours to get ready."
"Okay. I'll get going then and I'll be back in two." Alec said as he got up from the sofa and walked to his coat, taking a last glimpse of the little fur ball.
He was about to walk away when he realised that he has no idea what people wore to such a fancy place.
He turned around and found himself almost chest to chest with Magnus.
"Ehm. I just. I wanted to ask.. what do people wear to the Pandemonium?" He stuttered as he looked at the older man.
"Dress to impress." The man answered with a mischievous grin as he leaned against the door.
Alec just nodded before turning around.
...
"What's your poison?" Magnus asked as they stood in front of the club.
Alec could hear the music, it danced its way under his skin, settling down on his nervous in a buzz.
"What?" Alec asked as he looked away from the door and looked at Magnus with his lips slightly parted.
"What do you drink Alec?" The man repeated with a smile.
"I uhh. I'm not here to have fun tonight." Alec said as he followed Magnus to the door where he held his phone out for the security to check their cards.
Before they could walk in Magnus stopped in front of Alec and placed a hand on his chest.
"Listen darling. You are nothing but a man tonight. So let's have fun. God knows you need it." He said with a smile that Alec did not find offensive even if he tried.
"I'm here to find a possible murderer. I can't drink while working." "Are you getting paid for your work tonight? Do you have your gun and badge with you? Are you on duty?" Alec shook his head. "Rum. With coke." Alec said after a second or so.
"Good." He winked as he turned around and walked into the club.
Despite being so hard to get in, the place was packed. Bodies swirled everywhere, at the dance floor, at the bar. He saw people kissing, touching and doing something remotely similar to fucking in clothes. He decided to look at Magnus instead of others with the naïve hope that his mind wouldn't wonder to places it shouldn't.
It was a mistake. The older man looked like walking sin in his tight leather trousers and shirt that revealed more chest that Alec has bargained for. He swallowed as he looked at the man's face instead of any other parts of him.
"Like what you see?" Magnus asked winking at Alec.
Alec just rolled his eyes before smiling.
"I'll look around. Our guy is blonde and has a red circle tattoo on his neck." Alec shouted into Magnus' ear, hoping that the man could hear at least every second word.
Magnus just gave him a thumbs up before making his way towards the bar.
Alec sighed, knowing that his chances of finding the guy among all the people were almost zero.
...
After a good twenty minutes Alec headed back towards the bar, hoping to find the man still there.
He didn't have to look for long before he spotted him sitting on a high chair, talking to the bar tender.
Alec watched as Magnus leaned in closer, almost as if he tried to whisper something into the other man's ear.
Boy, in fact. The guy Magnus was talking to, look very young, almost to the point where Alec wondered if the boy being in a club was even legal.
First, he was sure that Magnus was ordering a drink, but then he touched the man touched his hand before moving away from Magnus and disappearing in the back.
Alec frowned, not so sure what the whole thing was about by this point.
When Magnus spotted Alec looking at him, he first looked surprised then he winked at Alec with a smirk.
He hesitated for a few moments before he smiled back at the man, tilting his head to the side.
Magnus took that as his cue, and after grabbing two glasses, one with martini and one with hopefully Alec's order he hopped of the stool and danced his way over to Alec.
"Why is there a lemon in there?" Alec asked as he spotted a yellow circle floating in his drink.
"Don't tell me you never added lemon to your rum and coke." Magnus looked at him with wide eyes.
"No?"
"There is so much I have to teach you Alexander about drinking. Did you know they also call rum and coke Cuba Libre?" Magnus said as he shook his head and took a sip of his own drink.
Alec wanted to say something sarcastic but witty at least, but suddenly nothing good enough popped into his head, so in stead, he shrugged and took a sip of his own.
He hummed as the cold drink invaded his taste buds, the slightly sweet rum, mixing with the sour lemon was actually really nice.
Not that he would go as far as admitting it, although judging by the way Magnus grinned at him, his face must have been telling enough.
Alec just rolled his eyes before leaning closer.
"I haven't seen the guy. He might be here though, I go and have an other look around."
Magnus just raised his arm in a 'go on' way before turning around with his hip swinging to the beat of the music.
Alec took a deep breath through his nose. At least one of them is enjoying himself.
A small part of his brain, or maybe heart, wished to join. To dance, to drink, to have fun, to let go.
But he had a job to do, even if in a not-so-official setting.
He didn't come here to have fun, maybe another night.
...
It was just after 1 o'clock when Alec decided that his efforts are absolutely pointless.
The guy was either not there or they miraculously avoided each other the entire night.
He wasn't exactly happy. He wasted an inter night chasing a ghost.
He felt a pang of disappointment as he headed towards Magnus.
He didn't just waste his own time, but also the man's.
He got a friend of his to take care of his sick cat, he used his influence as a youtuber to get them in and all Alec accomplished in the last few hours is to realise that rum and coke has definitely tasted better with lemon.
He headed towards Magnus to apologise and call it a night when he spotted the boy from earlier leaning close to Magnus.
They were definitely flirting. The man was too close to be just friendly.
He tried to ignore whatever feeling was trying to make his way to the surface.
At least there was something good in for the man for tonight.
He watched them exchanging a few words before the boy spotted Alec staring.
It was an odd experience. A part of him, the one that was dominated by his own personality wanted to duck his head awkwardly and maybe even blush, but another part of him, dominated by his detective persona kept looking at the guy and even raised an eyebrow.
The boy scoffed before saying something to Magnus and nodding his head towards Alec.
Magnus turned around and let out a laugh, one Alec couldn't here but could see for sure.
He turned his head away, watching at the people dancing instead.
A moment later Magnus joined him, the boy was gone.
"Do you want to head home?" Magnus asked and Alec only nodded in agreement.
They walked outside and haled a cab, considering their both have been drinking, and that Alec is a cop, driving was out of the option.
They sat in the cab in silence but whether it was awkward or welcomed, he wasn't sure.
Once he realised they were a few mins from Magnus' place he cleared his throat and took a deep breath.
"Sorry about tonight. I wasted your time and we got nowhere. Although, I'm not sure if it was as pointless for you as it was for me." He grinned at Magnus to lighten the mood.
"Let me assure you, my night was pleasant." Magnus answered with a warm smile.
"Good. And thank you. For getting us in. And for the drink. By the way, what do I owe you?" Alec asked as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket.
"Nonsense. You can pay next time." Magnus smiled as their pulled up at their loft.
Next time. Next time?
He had no idea what to say to that so instead, he smiled weakly as the cab came to a stop.
"Well, thank you." He said as he watched Magnus getting out of the cab, but instead of waving and heading in he walked to Alec's door and stood there.
Alec frowned as he let the window down and watched Magnus leaning down to see him.
"It wasn't pointless." He said before moving his hand towards Alec.
He moved on autopilot as he took what was in the man's hand.
He looked down into his palm
A pendrive.
"Wha-"
"The guy I was talking to. He is a friend of mine. Almost like a son to me. He owed me a few favours. I cashed them in. I hope it was worth it." He smiled before stepping away from the car.
"Good night detective." He said with a mocking salute as the car drove away with Alec.
__________
How in the hell did you manage to get this?! I am definitely buying drink next time. Or even dinner. And lunch. Anything you want. A - 02:08 am
Lunch, dinner and drinks? That's like three dates in a row. ;) M - 09.42am
Alec bit his lip, was he flirting or just teasing? He wasn't sure.
Still doesn't feel enough. But really, thank you. A - 09:43am
Don't thank me yet, let me know if you find something. Out of curiosity, how many of them have you got? M - 09:50am
A lot. Around 200. A - 10:32am
Fuck. Need a hand? - 10:32am
You have already helped me more than I could have asked for. :) A - 12:17pm
What time do you finish at? Officially. M - 12:45pm
He laughed at the last part. Trust Magnus to assume that there is a difference.
6pm. why? A - 12:47pm
Come over after. There is a great Ethiopian place nearby. :) M - 13:02pm
Ok. But I pay this time. A - 13:12pm
Deal. :) M - 13:15pm
Alec couldn't be sure, but after having something to look forward, the day started to drag. Every few minutes felt like hours and he wondered if six o'clock will ever come. He didn't really have much time to look into the list of the members during the day. They had a robbery and even though it didn't take long to find the men behind it, he still had to write up a detailed report, question the suspects, wait for their attorney...
By the time Alec stepped out of the precinct it was after half past.
Sorry. Be there in 20. A - 6:42pm
He put his phone into his pocket before walking to his car. He loved his car. It was a black Audi SUV. Apparently it screamed 'cop' from a mile, but Alec never really cared much about what people thought of his car, or him for that matter.
He loved his job and if that involved driving a beast... well, let it be.
Alec checked his notifications before starting the engine, he was surprised to see a new video posted on Bane Adventures.
Magnus usually posted about his trips and visits to different places, but considering that he hasn't been to anywhere since the last time, he was curious to see what it could be about.
He bit his lips, feeling a bit like a stalker as he opened the video and looked at the circling icon to load the image.
"Hello everyone. Welcome back to my channel. This time I'm not here to talk about a past or upcoming trip, but something a little bit more personal."
Alec checked the time. It was posted this morning. He frowned, he didn't even realise it until now.
"As you know, I have been back from my last trip for a few weeks and as I said it in my last video, I needed some break. Just to spend some time at home with my family and friends.
I can't be grateful enough for your support and love and I am honestly so happy for you guys following me, allowing me to share my experiences with you on my adventures.
It's October and I doubt that I will be going anywhere this year, so just to let you know, there will be no video from me until the beginning of next year.
I know it's super early, but I would love to wish everyone happy holidays!
Oh, one more thing. Where would you take a tall, dark and handsome for dinner? Comment below with your ideas." He said with a huge grin, pointing downwards, towards the comment section.
Alec watched the video rolling, faintly heard Magnus' words, but was too lost in his own thoughts to actually hear what he was saying.
He ignored the rest of the video and scrolled down to the comment sections.
He tilted his head back with a laugh, one coming from deep as he realised that pretty much every second person advised Ethiopian.
Before he changed his mind, he quickly typed out.
Alec_G_Lightwood: Busted.
He threw his phone onto the passenger's seat as he drove out of the car park, still smiling.
...
"Hi." Alec said as Magnus opened the door and let him in.
"Hello yourself. I would make a comment about punctuality, but I know you are an important person, so I let it go." He said mockingly as he closed the door, following Alec into the living room.
"Making a comment by not making one? How original of you." Alec teased back with a smile.
"You know me." Magnus answered as he walked to the kitchen. "Something to drink?"
"No, thank you. I'm good. Maybe some coffee on second thought. It might take some time to go through all of it." Alec said as he put the pendrive down onto the coffee table.
"Coffee it is. Milk, sugar?"
"Yes, and two please." He answered as he looked around. There was something missing but he couldn't put his finger on it, that was until something warm and soft touched his right leg.
"Oh. Hello there." He said softly as he bent down to trace his fingers along the back of the little kitten.
"Are you trying to steal my cat Alexander? That's a crime just so you know." Magnus said with a mischievous grin as he walked in with two mugs.
"You better let the police know so they can take your statement." Alec answered seriously.
Magnus just scoffed and rolled his eyes.
They were covered in some kohl, but no glitter this time. Now that he looked at the man, he realised how... simple he looked. Beautiful, but he was dressed in comfortable clothes and once again, he was barefoot.
"Is he better?" He asked nodding towards the cat as he took a big gulp of his coffee.
"Yes. Thankfully." Magnus said as he took a seat on the sofa, letting his little four legged friend to curl up in his lap.
"Good." Alec said with a smile.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, taking turns in petting the cat who was purring lazily in his owner's lap.
"Hungry?" Magnus asked, looking up at Alec.
"Very." He said with a sigh and just as if on cue, his stomach made an obnoxiously loud noise.
Magnus nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line. Alec had the suspicion that the man was about to laugh at him, but managed to stiffle it.
He let the man to order for him, considering that Alec has never tried anything from their menu before.
They talked about random things, Alec's day, work, Magnus' latest trip and his plans for the next year. The food got there at some point and they continued their conversation while eating.
"God, that was so good." Alec said with a sigh as he leaned back in the sofa, tilting his head back.
"One of the best places." Magnus said with a sigh of his own, closing his eyes.
"If you knew it was so good why even bother to ask your viewers?" Alec asked with a shit eating grin as he watched Magnus' eyes popping open.
"What?"
Alec didn't even answer just tilted his head in a 'come on now' style.
"You saw it?" Magnus asked after a few moments.
"I did."
"Well, it could have been about anyone." Magnus said so seriously that Alec doubted everything for a moment. Magnus was right. Not Alec is the only tall and dark. It could have been literally anyone. He only assumed it was him, but thinking of it now, maybe he did rush to a conclusion.
"True." He said finally, but he only said it for the sake of saying something.
"It was about you. I'm a one soul at a time guy." Magnus said with a smile, one that was suddenly holding too many things for Alec to understand every one of them.
Their bodies were turned towards each other and for a moment he really wanted to lean in and close the gap to kiss the man. And he probably would have if the Chairman didn't decided that moment to jump between them.
They looked down at the same time and then up, but no matter how their situation was the exact same as a minute ago, the moment was gone.
Alec cleared his throat before speaking.
"Sure. The sooner we get to it the sooner we finish." Magnus nodded as he got up and brought his laptop over. Their uploaded the file to Magnus computer and Alec took his own one out as well.
They started to work in silence. It was rather hard.
Watching that many people, especially since they couldn't filter by gender, let alone hair colour.
They have been working for a good hour when Magnus suddenly snorted.
"What?" Alec's head snapped up as he looked at the man.
"Look." Magnus said as he turned the laptop around so Alec could see the screen.
Camille Bellcourt
It took Alec a moment to remember where he saw her before.
"This is the woman from the fifth."
"Uhum." Magnus nodded as he turned the laptop back.
"Thank god we didn't bump into her while we were there the other night." Alec blurted before he could stop himself.
"Tell me about it." Magnus said with another snort, not looking up from his laptop.
"Do you.." Alec stopped not sure how to ask this very simple question.
"Do I?" Magnus asked, looking up at Alec over his laptop.
"Are you gay or.."
"I am bisexual. Although she was close to turning me as gay as they come." He added with a laugh.
"Okay." Alec said and he meant it. He had no problem with Magnus being bisexual. He knew people who found it an issue, being attracted to both gender was like having double chances of being cheated on, but in his opinion if someone was loyal their sexuality didn't effect that fact.
He could feel Magnus' eyes on him so he looked up with a smile which only became wider as Magnus smiled back at him.
They spent the next two hours working, occasionally saying a word or two to each other until..
"Bingo!" Magnus said so loudly that the chairman basically flew off the sofa and ran into one of the bedrooms.
"I might have traumatised him." He said as he looked after his cat with a sad expression.
"You got him?" Alec jumped up, not really caring about the cat or anything right now.
"I did indeed." Magnus said as he moved to the side so Alec could sit next to him.
"Samuel Blackwell." Alec read as he took his phone out.
Magnus looked up at him while Alec waited, phone pressed to his ear.
"Lyds. Hi. Still in the precinct?"
"Thank god. Could you check a guy for me? Samuel Blackwell. Black w-e-l-l."
"Yeah. Send me the address. Thanks. Yeah. Yeah. Underhill? Sure. Tell him I'll meet him there. Yes, I'm sure he is our guy." Alec said the last bit as he looked into Magnus' eyes.
"Okay. Thanks." He hung up, grabbing his jacket.
"Are you going to his place now?" Magnus asked, eyes surprised as he watched Alec putting his shoes on.
"I have to. I'll call you after." Alec said as he lingered for a moment.
A part of him wanted to stay. Now that they had no job to do, they could carry on talking about everything and anything, getting to know each other. Alec wanted nothing more than to take his shoes and jacket off to sit back down onto the couch but this wasn't the right timing.
"Thank you. For your help. And for dinner." He said before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on the corner of Magnus' mouth.
"Take care, will you? You still owe me lunch and drinks." Magnus said with a smile, trying to sound confident but Alec could see a hint of worry in his eyes.
"I'd never break such promise." Alec said with a reassuring smile of his own before opening the door, letting it close behind himself with a quiet thud.
__________
Hey. The address is fake. It's an abandoned building. A - 11:03pm
I'm sorry Alexander. M - 11:04pm
It's okay. Gonna do a stakeout. A - 11:08pm
With your partner? M - 11:10pm
No. She is busy with another case. Underhill was here, but he went back to the precinct. Just me. A - 11:12pm
Alone?? M - 11:12pm
:) I'm just sitting in my car, watching a building. It's not like I'm doing anything that would require another detective's presence. They are 15 mins away if I need backup. A - 11:13pm
Alec put his phone down with a smile tugging at his lips. He couldn't tell why, but seeing Magnus worrying about him, fill him up with warmth. Like a cup of coffee, spreading to every inch of his body.
To be fair, he didn't inform anyone about his late night work. He knew they wouldn't want him to stay out there alone, stakeouts are always done in pairs. Not just in case they need back up but also to keep each other awake, plus four pairs of eyes always better than two.
He was sure that nothing will happen, but if he is wrong, he can always gets Underhill or others to the address in minutes.
He was off tomorrow, so he planned to stay until the early hours of the morning, just when it gets busy enough to stay any longer.
It's not like he had plans or anything more important to do.
He sent a text to Izzy earlier, he mentioned Magnus and as it turned out, his sister was more than familiar with the man. Alec wondered just how well known Magnus was. Or how come he never heard of him when even Underhill knew the famous youtuber who often shared videos and pictures from different countries.
He liked Magnus. Not just as a friend but as a man. They worked great together. Magnus was smart, funny, sarcastic on occasions and beautiful. He loved his style, his make up and ever changing hair colour.
He often wondered how the other man saw him. A detective, wearing black clothes, leather jacket and combat boots. His always messy hair, his few day old stubble.
Did Magnus find him just as intriguing as Alec found him? Or was he just the cop who is trying to solve a murder?
He knew Magnus liked him. With his video and constant flirting it was obvious... but what part did he like? Almost every time they met, Alec was in work-mode. Would Magnus like him in the morning when he was still sleepy and quiet? Would he like him blushing and stuttering when caught off guard? Would he like him if he knew he had his own baggage and a past not so fancy?
Would he like Magnus in the morning? Without make up and his hair done? Would he like him curled up on the bed with the chairman? Would he like his past and skeletons?
He knew he would. He would be able to love the man with his quirks and habits, with all his perfect imperfections.
He was pulled out of his thoughts as someone tried to pull on the door handle.
His heart jumped into his throat as he pulled his gun out on reflex, aiming on a wide eyed Magnus.
"Fuck." Alec breathed as he lowered his gun and opened the door for the man.
"Oh god, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. God you were aiming that gun at me in to time." Magnus said as he hopped in next to Alec with two cups of coffee in hands, handing one over to Alec.
"I'm sorry. It was.. a reflex. I wouldn't have shoot you. I don't even know why I pulled it out. I was just..not expecting that." Alec explained stuttering a bit. He felt like an idiot. He wasn't a rookie to wave his gun around like that.
"Well, I brought you coffee and my company, so I'm no good if I'm dead." Magnus said with a wide smile and a wink.
"No." Alec said with a faint smile as he sipped from his coffee. "What are you doing here?" He asked taking a quick glance at Magnus before looking back at the building. "I mean why."
"Why not?" Magnus asked back with a shrug. It was an odd answer and they both knew it.
"Don't tell me you have absolutely nothing better to do than sitting in a cold car with me at the middle of the night watching an adandoned building.
"I don't."
Alec looked at Magnus with a knowing look. Magnus sighed as he looked down at his hands around the cup before answering.
"I.."
"Hey. I don't mind. I'm happy you are here." Alec said before moving to touch the man's arm.
"Good. Because I want to be here." Magnus said as he looked down at Alec's hand where it touched his arm. Alec pulled it back slowly.
They were quiet for a few minutes, both watching the darkness and shadows, looking for a movement.
"What happened in Peru?" Alec asked on an impulse, watching Magnus carefully from the corner of his eyes.
Magnus grins and scratches his head before answering.
"I don't know." He says then.
"What do you mean?" Alec turns towards him this time.
"I can't remember. I never got so drunk in my life. Apparently I stole a rug claiming that it is a magic rug...but I can't remember much. I woke up in a dessert, lying on the rug, surrounded by cactuses. I got home the same day and a few weeks later I received the letter. They strongly advised and politely asked me to never return."
"Oh my god." Alec laughed as he tried to imagine the situation and also made a mental note for himself to never let Magnus that drunk ever again.
"Maybe I shouldn't be telling this to a detective." Magnus said licking his lips, watching Alec carefully.
"Is that what I am?" Alec asked seriously.
"Aren't you?" Magnus looked at him with confusion.
"I am, but I mean.. is that what you see me as? A detective you work with?" It sounded so stupid, saying it out loud.
Magnus smiled at him warmly. "No.. you aren't just a detective. I don't think you ever were."
He didn't know what to say to that, so he just nodded.
...
They've been sitting there for a long time, their coffees drank and forgotten. Alec took a glance at his phone. 2:03am
"Why a detective?" Magnus asked not tearing his gaze away from the building.
Alec sighed before answering. "My whole family worked in law enforcement. I always wanted to follow the path. But it wasn't just that. I love helping people."
Alec did love his job. It made him feel like he matters, like he makes a difference. A good one.
"What about you?" He asked looking at Magnus.
"I guess it's the same for me." Magnus said after a few seconds. Alec raised his brows in surprise.
"Your family was all youtubers?" Magnus bursted into a laugh, his hand covering his mouth to stiffle the giggles. "No." He shook his head still smiling and laughing before his expression became serious. "To help people."
Alec frowned at that, not exactly sure how what Magnus was doing could help people.
"You see.. my mother passed away when I was a kid. My biological father fucked off before I was born. After my mother's death.. I became the part of the system. I bounced from foster care to foster care... I never even left the city let alone the country until I was at age.. So, when I turned 21, I had this desire to travel. To see the world. And I did. And more than 10 years later, I still do. I went to the airport and made my pick. My first trip led me to France. I worked there a bit and I had a journal. I took videos, pictures..etc. After a while, I got bored and went to somewhere else.
But I had no one to share it with. Sure I had a few friends.. but.. it wasn't the same. Then I realised how many other people, not just those who were part of the system, but others, never had the chance to travel.. so by doing my videos.. I let them be a part of it. To experience the things I do. It's not like being there per se, but it is still something. For some of them... this is the most real it will ever get." He said as he looked into Alec's eyes.
Alec kissed him.
The lips that met his own were soft and surprisingly warm.
He took a sharp breath through his nose as his hands moved up to cup Magnus' cheek.
He felt Magnus' hand moving to the back of his neck, his fingers playing with his hair as their lips moved against each other.
They pulled back at the same time to breath, Alec was about to lean back again to kiss him deep but Magnus pulled back.
Alec was surprised and even disappointed for a moment but then Magnus opened his mouth.
"There is someone there."
Alec's head snapped towards the building and then he saw it.
A blonde guy slipping through the doors.
All the thoughts of kissing Magnus were gone. He pulled his phone out, he was back to a detective.
"I need back up to the building. The suspect just entered the premise. I have a look around to make sure there is no one else there. I wait for the back up." He said as he hang up, hands already on the door handle when Magnus touched his shoulder.
He looked worried and nervous.
"Stay here. The others will be here in 10 mins. No matter what happens. Don't leave the car." He saw Magnus wanting to say something. "I mean it Magnus. This is my job. I will be fine." He looked into his eyes and waited until Magnus nodded before getting out of the car and making his way over to the building.
__________
"Good afternoon. I'm Detective Lightwood from the 69th precinct. I am happy to announce that two weeks ago on Friday, in the early hours of the morning, we arrested the man responsible for the murder of Elias Whitmore, Samuel Blackwell who has been charged with first-degree murder. I would like to thank for the hard work of our forensic team, my partners on the case, Detective Branwell and Detective Underhill. Also, we would have not been able to find justice for the victim without the help of Magnus Bane. Thank you." Alec said as he ignored the cameras and questions firing from the reporters as he stood in front of the precinct with the two other detectives.
Magnus was standing in the crowd, something similar to pride in his expression.
He waited until the majority of people were gone before he slowly walked towards Magnus.
"Well done detective. Justice has been served." Magnus said seriously.
"I was just doing my job. To serve and protect." Alec said with matching seriousness.
"I heard you had some help."
"Oh yes, my colleagues were there to help."
"Only them?"
"Well, no. There was a guy too. You might heard of him. You see, he is a famous youtuber."
"Just a youtuber?" Magnus asked but a smile was already tugging at the corner of his lips as Alec stepped closer.
"Mmm.. no. Not just a youtuber."
"No? Then what else?" Magnus asked as Alec's arms wrapped around his waist. He raised his own arms to rest his hands at the back of Alec's neck.
"Well, he is smart. Funny. Beautiful..."
"Keep going." Magnus said with his eyes closed in bliss. It started snowing. Alec watched the tiny snowflakes falling onto Magnus' hair. It was mesmerizing.
"He is amazing. He is a great kisser." Alec whispered as his lips almost touched the older man's.
"Sounds like a great guy." Magnus whispered back, eyes locking with Alec's.
"That.. he is. I'm lucky.. so...so lucky."
"You never cease to amaze me Alexander." Magnus whispered before closing the gap and kissing Alec softly.
__________
"Welcome back everyone. I'm finally on my well deserved holiday. Look at Athens. It is beautiful at this time of the year." Magnus smiled widely into the camera before changing to his back camera to show the scenery.
He changed back to show himself once again.
"I will keep you guys updated, or try at least, but since I have a company with me on this trip, I can't promise much more live updates." He said as he turned his head to the right, looking at something outside of the camera.
"Alexander, come and say hi to the others."
"Others? I thought I was the only one." Alec said with mocked shock before laughing and walking up to Magnus to place his chin on the man's shoulder, standing behind him.
"Hello everyone." He waved with one hand, the other arm curled around Manus' body.
"You were born to be in front of the camera darling."
Alec rolled his eyes with a smile as he ran his hand through his hair, trying to fix the messy raven locks.
"Well, press a like if you do think my boyfriend should be featured more." Magnus grinned happily.
"Shouldn't you ask your boyfriend about that too?" Alec frowned as he leaned closer to look into Magnus' eyes.
"I should, shouldn't I?" Magnus wiggled his eyebrows before leaning closer to Alec.
Their lips almost touched before Alec's eyes flickered to the camera and with a mischievous grin, he raised his hand to cover their faces as their lips met in a slow, lingering kiss.
~Fin
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belphegor1982 · 5 years
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Twelve years. Twelve years between chapters. But we got there. I can hardly believe it. Anyway, here’s the elusive chapter 17. Hope you enjoy!
FAIRY TALES AND HOKUM
Summary: 1937: Two years after the events of Ahm Shere, the O’Connells are “required” by the British Government to bring the Diamond taken there from Egypt to England. In Cairo, while Evelyn deals with the negotiations and Rick waits for doom to strike again, Jonathan bumps into an old friend of his from university, Tom Ferguson. Things start to go awry when the Diamond is stolen from the Museum and old loyalties are tested… (story on AO3; on FFnet)
(Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16)
Chapter 17: Fight or Flight (on AO3 here; on FFnet here)
Evelyn had rarely been so angry at her son. Alex did have a mischievous streak – often encouraged, to his mother’s dismay, by a father who tended to turn a blind eye to what he judged to be mild shenanigans and an uncle who sometimes still seemed half a child himself – but he hardly ever did anything that warranted more than a stern talking-to.
This time, Evelyn’s anger was proportional to her sudden fear for her child, which took priority over everything else. Alex visibly struggled to explain his actions, in vain.
“But Mum, I’ve been in the pyramid too! I know which way to go, I can help Dad and Uncle Jon while you find the bad guy and stop him!”
“You will do no such thing! This isn’t one of your adventure books, Alex – we know next to nothing about the men inside the pyramid, however I don’t think they’re going to draw the line at harming you. Not to mention the Army of Anubis. They’re set to destroy everyone and everything in their path, including children.”
Evelyn didn’t shout. She was too furious for that. Besides, she usually didn’t need to, and considering the way Izzy was slinking away, looking supremely uncomfortable, this was one of those times.
Unfortunately, Alex had inherited both his parents’ brands of stubbornness, and knew how to dig in his heels when he felt it necessary.
“I know that, Mum. But Lock-Nah and the others didn’t really cut me any slack for being a kid. If it hadn’t been for Dad, he would have killed me in that jungle, and I think he would have really liked it.”
Through her anger, Evelyn felt a stab of retroactive terror and fury at the men who had come so close to depriving her of her only child. Then she forced her mind back to the present and grabbed Alex by the shoulders, resisting the urge to hold him as tightly as she could.
“That’s just it, Alex. You don’t have to place yourself in danger now. You can stay at the camp, with the other children, and,” she added pointedly as Alex opened his mouth to protest, “I can go into that pyramid knowing that you’re safer than if you’d come with me. Have you any idea how worried I’d be for you if you went with me? Or what your father would say if something happened to you while you were down there?”
The argument was a bit of a low blow, but Evelyn was past pulling any punches, as Rick said. Of course Alex could be mature beyond his years. Of course he had endured things no ten-year-old should with remarkable fortitude. Of course – and this broke her heart – he was not unfamiliar with the worst human beings could inflict on fellow men, and even children. But this time he could stay behind, and, if she had anything to say about it, would stay behind.
Izzy’s hesitant voice was loud in the sudden silence.
“Actually. Um. I don’t think we can. Go back to camp, I mean.”
Evelyn’s eyes swivelled from Alex to him, and he pointed at something in the distance.
“Well, we could, but if that means what I think it means, we need to land and get into that pyramid right now.”
Mother and son ran to bend over the rail, disagreement temporarily forgotten.
From ground level came a dot of light that made Evelyn’s eyes water when they met it. After squinting a little in the near darkness, she saw tents lit up by campfires. In the middle, a figure knelt on the ground next to a fire, holding a mirror towards the dirigible.
The signal. Maher and his men had overpowered Hamilton’s men, commando-style, and were telling her it was time to land.
Evelyn closed her eyes and took a shaking breath. They really didn’t have time to go back.
“Alex,” she said, her voice very, very low, “when we get home, you and I are going to have Words.”
Alex swallowed and wisely kept his mouth shut. Visibly his mother’s tone had successfully impressed upon him just How Serious the situation was. Good.
Hamilton’s camp should probably have been bustling, but it was eerily still and silent when Izzy landed Dee next to the dug up top of the Pyramid of Ahm Shere. The men, she found, were huddling together, sitting down in the sand, throwing nervous glances at their captors. Maher’s team was small, but effective.
While Izzy dragged the ramp out of the bowels of the dirigible, Evelyn turned to Alex and knelt down to his eyeline.
“Alex, please promise me you’ll stay here. Please, swear on my life, on your father’s, that you’re going to stay on the dirigible and not wander off.”
Alex still looked conflicted, but eventually nodded solemnly.
“I swear, Mum. I won’t set a foot outside of Dee until you’ve brought back Dad and Uncle Jon.”
His voice rang with absolute certainty, as though Rick and Jonathan were merely busy elsewhere, to be called back to the house for dinner. Not for the first time, her son’s unshakeable faith in her was humbling, and not a little daunting considering what lay ahead. Evelyn wrapped him in her arms and held him close, laying her head against his, her nose in his fine hair. She was almost surprised when Alex hugged her back fiercely, silently, his small hands gripping the back of her blouse so tightly the fabric strained.
She was not surprised, however, when she heard a snuffle and a muffled, “Promise me you won’t die again, Mum.”
Evelyn ran a hand through Alex’s hair; she pulled away to lay a kiss on his crown and rested her forehead against his for a few seconds, until he could give a wobbly smile and pretend he hadn’t noticed she hadn’t promised anything.
As she followed Izzy down the ramp, she looked back only once. Her little boy stood at the rail, firelight behind him, his eyes very bright.
Maher, a tall, willowy man who rarely talked, gave her a gentle smile when he saw her before he went back to watching the prisoners. His lieutenant, Atifa, met her in the centre of the camp, at the foot of the pyramid – or rather, the dozen feet that had been unearthed. She was a tall, broad-shouldered woman, a little older than Evelyn who had met her a few years ago on one of her visits to Ardeth and his family.
“Are you sure you don’t want anyone else coming with you?” she asked Evelyn in a low voice.
Evelyn shook her head. “Thank you, but no. You’re needed here; I’m needed down there.” She pursed her lips and breathed deeply through her nose. Her mission – taking down Hamilton by any means necessary – was clear, and she intended to see it through, but she couldn’t help but shudder, like she’d shuddered two years ago, standing nearly in the same spot. She had lost count of the men she’d had to kill in that jungle to protect her son, her husband, and her friend. This, almost more than the memory of the smell of gunpowder and almost throwing up once she’d lowered her rifle, kept her awake at night. And she let it. Killing people should never be easy, she reasoned. The dead, even nameless, had their way of weighing on the souls of the living, their murderers’ in particular.
Come to think of it, stripping Imhotep of his name in the hope of his never reaching the afterlife had been an exercise in futility. Engraving ‘He Who Shall Not Be Named’ on his sarcophagus hadn’t taken away his sense of self any more than it had stopped her from bringing him back to life.
Atifa didn’t argue the point. She held out her hand, and instead of clasping Evelyn’s, laid it on her arm, just below the shoulder.
The warmth of this simple contact nearly undid her resolve before it strengthened it. Apart from Alex, Evelyn realised, she hadn’t felt the touch of another human being in five days. She allowed herself one second of fierce longing for Rick’s arms around her, or Jonathan’s hand in the crook of her elbow, before smiling at Atifa and returning the gesture.
“Be careful,” said Atifa in a low voice.
“You too,” said Evelyn firmly.
And she entered the pyramid, feeling rather than hearing Izzy’s presence at her back. Even the weapons he had brought didn’t make any sound as he walked.
Evelyn herself held a pistol in her right hand and a sword in her left. The part of her that was Nefertiri scoffed at the imbalance and pointed out that a khopesh in each hand would have been better.
If someone asked her one day how one went about being a reincarnated princess from Ancient Egypt and handling both sets of memories and reflexes, Evelyn would be hard pressed to answer. There were facts she knew that she never learned, movements that came to her instinctively in spite of herself… Nefertiri had died a young woman, but Evelyn had a decade on her, plus a child. It had taken her hours and hours of fighting practice before she could truly find a balance between the warrior and the archaeologist.
Right now, for instance, Nefertiri focused on being as stealthy and silent as possible, while Evelyn’s experience in entering tombs kept her eyes and ears open for anything unusual. Which, admittedly, amounted to everything in a pyramid that appeared to hold a veritable jungle in its entrails.
“Did you know about this?” muttered Izzy, startling her. “Was the place already like that when I picked you up last time?”
“No,” she whispered. “Absolutely not. The oasis must have got sucked into the pyramid when the Scorpion King died.”
A shudder ran through her body. If the Oasis of Ahm Shere was now inside the pyramid… did that mean everything else was, as well?
The jungle around her was hardly silent. Some wildlife must have made it home again, from what she could hear, and somewhere a small stream was babbling merrily and dripping over a wall. Against all odds, there was even a slight breeze on her face. So far, there was no sign of the unearthly silence that had preceded the arrival of the pygmy mummies.
“Right, right. The Scorpion King. Was that the one your boy’s gold bracelet led to, the one who was supposed to rise from the dead and destroy the world?”
Evelyn turned sharply towards Izzy.
“It was, actually, outlandish as it may sound. That bracelet almost killed my son, and the Scorpion King almost killed my husband.”
And a three thousand years old resurrected concubine killed me.
Izzy held out one hand.
“Look, couple of years ago I would’ve said this was nuts, but then a wall of water with a face on it tried to drown us and then the desert bloody ate an oasis and an entire pyramid. I’m willing to go on faith. Just… Lemme adjust a little bit.”
“I know the feeling. But you’re going to have to adjust quickly. We—”
The floor shook, the walls trembled. She and Izzy reached for each other at the same time for balance, and she felt his hand grip her wrist and send a shudder through her arm.
“Wha—”
The world went black, and for a second Evelyn felt a wild, irrational fear that she’d just been killed again. The sensation was nothing like she’d ever felt before. The shadow drove itself into the heart of her, like cold fire or burning ice, leaving her with a gaping void. Suddenly she was grateful to feel the grip of Izzy’s hand. It was the only sensation that registered at all.
The shadow left as quickly as it had come. In its wake was a faint, greenish light, as though the braziers and torches she remembered were there had been lit again, somewhere beyond the foliage.
“What was that!?” gasped Izzy, letting go of her wrist.
Evelyn peered into the half-lit passageway to the trail they were following, then back to the way they had come from, her heart pounding in her chest fit to burst.
“I think… I think that was the Army of Anubis.”
Her next words turned to ash in her mouth.
“We’re too late.”
.⅋.
Tomorrow often was a good day to die, Ardeth reflected. Today never was.
Tomorrow was convenient. It allowed room for steely composure and swagger, admiring stares on the part of the less lucky ones who would not be riding out to war, and maybe just a few seconds of feeling sorry for oneself.
Not so with “today”. Today was the moment death stared you in the face and you hoped, wished and prayed that it would look away, just for you, just for one minute. It was the moment when you tried so very hard, as your enemy stormed upon you, to maintain a little bit of dignity and not let your body betray you with violently shaking legs or a loosening bladder.
A good warrior looked on combat as being ‘today’, because he knew that the true face of war was the face of your comrade in arms and best friend staring at you from the ground with dead eyes, sand mixing with blood in your own wounds and staring at whatever was pouring out of your gut in nauseating terror.
For all his years as a chieftain and a commander of the Medjai, and his experience in battle, Ardeth knew he would never be quite used to war.
He fervently hoped so, anyway.
Spurring his horse to reach the front of the first line, he caught a grim glance from Aziz, chieftain of the Fifth Tribe – a tall, thin man, whose deep-set eyes looked more dour than ever.
His expression did not surprise Ardeth. Aziz was a strategist first, and a warrior second. Although nobody – not even him – had been able to come up with a completely satisfying solution, he had been one of the strongest voices against facing the Army of Anubis a second time with nothing more than a wild hope that things would somehow turn out all right in the pyramid.
But try as he might, he couldn’t think of a better strategy. Having known the Chieftain of the Fifth Tribe for years, Ardeth had a very clear idea of just how much this angered him. In all likelihood, Aziz was now close to seething, and the only thing that stopped him from speaking his mind to his Commander was the men and women standing around them, and, possibly, his own lack of a better plan of action.
But he waited, same as the others, careful not to let his mask of cool self-control slip. Ardeth knew that he felt just the same fraction of mind-boggling terror – voiced by the same instinct of self-preservation that whispered that right here and now was the last place to be.
Once more, though, he silenced it as he surveyed his people.
Most of them had already been there two years ago. He could see the weariness and horror in their eyes that came from knowing exactly what they would face. Some of the younger warriors, those who had never seen a Jackal of Anubis, were throwing worried glances here and there, breathing shallow and fast, but it did not come close to the terror of facing your nightmares for the second time in two years.
The wind changed. Ardeth’s breath caught in his throat.
The stars above were still visible, but their light was cold, as though dimmed. The air suddenly cooled.
In front of them, between them and the pyramid in the distance, dark sand began to move.
Ardeth’s hands tightened around the hilt of his scimitar.
They were coming.
.⅋.
“Kill them.”
“Wait – stop! What!?”
Damn, the guy was fast. In the half-second it had taken Rick to instinctively reach for the gun he knew wasn’t at his side, Ferguson had leaped in front of him and Jonathan, facing his colleagues with a wild-eyed fear in his eyes and his hands held placatingly in front of him.
To their credit, a few agents lowered their guns immediately.
“Robertson, Wyndham, Norton, come on – what does Baine think you are, cold-blooded murderers?” Ferguson’s voice was a little higher than usual, and the sudden edge in it seemed to shake several agents into taking their fingers off the triggers of their guns. “Our job is to protect important and ancient artefacts, not bloody kill people!”
“Thank you for that eloquent address, Ferguson,” said Baine coldly, as though this was just a hitch in the plan, “but I think we’ll do without interruptions now. Gentlemen, proceed.”
From the corner of his eye, Rick glanced at Jonathan, who seemed to be surreptitiously looking for a quick way out. Good. Here’s hoping he’s spotted the little passageway between the two trees and the statue.
Apparently Ferguson hadn’t played his last card.
“Stop – think! Why?”
A burly giant of an agent lowered his gun entirely and asked, frowning, “What d’you mean, ‘why’? It’s a direct order, innit?”
“A direct – oh, for God’s sake –” Ferguson threw up his hands. “What if he ordered you to shoot yourself in the head, you monumental idiot, would you do it?”
“Here, he’s got a point,” a younger agent piped up. “Do we really have to kill them? I mean, this isn’t what I signed up for in the first place.”
“Shut up and do the job at hand, McLean,” came the low, scratchy voice of a much older agent, whose gun was still trained steadily at Rick and Jonathan. “It’s not your place to ask.”
Rick took a minuscule step back. If he could just bump into one of them and help himself to a gun in the process, they might have a chance to get out of this mess alive. What they would do outside against the Army of Anubis was another matter entirely, but right now, the priority was getting the hell away from Baine.
Rick O’Connell always prided himself on his sense of priorities.
The man himself stood silent in the background as voices rose in argument, slowly but definitely reaching inside his jacket for his own gun. Rick took a short moment to appraise the look in Baine’s eyes. The guy was deadly serious.
Meanwhile, even as they clutched their guns, some of the other agents still exchanged uncertain glances at the idea of shooting two fellow human beings in cold blood. Maybe there was something to work with here.
In the blink of an eye, Rick grabbed Ferguson from behind, wrenched his revolver from his holster and shoved the muzzle between his shoulder blades.
The guy stiffened and let out a strangled sound. Rick tried not to wince and whispered, “Sorry, buddy. Just look scared.”
“Not bloody hard, is it!” Ferguson hissed through clenched teeth, as Jonathan inched closer, his face even whiter than it had been five minutes ago.
“Rick, what the hell are you doing?” he whispered angrily. Rick gave an imperceptible shrug.
“Making a gambit. You play poker, you oughta know that.” Then he stared at Baine, hard, trying to make him understand just how deadly serious he was, too.
“You make a move, I kill the guy,” he said as levelly as he could, his heart hammering in his chest. He had played poker before, occasionally with a bad hand, but this was easily the worst hand he’d ever had. “Your call.”
Okay, that got ‘em thinking. They would surely think twice about murdering a fellow agent, someone they’d known for some time, maybe some years. Talk as little as possible, keep your eyes on theirs, make a slow retreat…
“Is it, really, Mister O’Connell?” Baine actually grinned, clearly enjoying the situation. “What makes you think I won’t just shoot him as well? Do you really believe, in that thick American head of yours, that I would let the life of one agent compromise the mission?”
Shit.
Baine raised his gun.
Rick fell back on pure survival instinct and decades-old training. The second before Baine’s finger squeezed the trigger, he dropped to the ground, pulling Ferguson with him. The jungle became a dark green blur as he leaped to his feet and bolted to the door, only risking the shortest glance behind him to check that Jonathan did the same, still keeping a tight hold on Ferguson’s collar with his left hand and on his gun in his right. Leaves, branches, and the occasional chip of stone exploded around them as agent after agent decided to follow the leader after all and shoot.
All things considered, it was a sheer miracle that the three of them were still intact when they finally stopped after what felt like hours of running straight in front of them. Rick made sure of that once he had recovered enough to review his troops.
Jonathan was leaning against the wall for support, ashen-faced and gasping – from retroactive fright, Rick guessed, as well as the actual run – but Ferguson looked worse. His face was an even more alarming shade than his old friend’s, his breaths coming in gasps, gulping and uneven.
The only sound that didn’t come in muffled by the layers of green around them was the same faint gurgle that they’d noticed as they entered the pyramid.
With a bit of luck, they could find the source and follow it upstream back to the entrance at the top.
“All – all right, there, Tom?” Rick heard Jonathan ask uncertainly. When he looked back, Ferguson’s glare was very bright in the half-gloom of the low, small corridor.
“Do I bloody look all right, Jon?” he panted, a bit of colour creeping back into his cheeks. “Those – what a bunch of stupid, mindless – I don’t even – God, I can’t believe that son of a bitch!” he finally exploded with on his face an expression even Rick couldn’t deny was a little bit scary. “When I get me ‘ands on him he’ll be bleedin’ sorry he was born!”
Nobody asked him who ‘he’ was – there was no need.
Thankfully, possibly because of the unsettling hush around them or the stifling damp heat, Ferguson’s fury boiled down to a steady simmer quickly enough, although his dark glower spoke volumes about the fate he reserved for Baine if he was still alive when they got out of there. Rick caught himself thinking it might be kinder for the guy to never see the light of day again.
As for the other agents…
“Orders, they said,” Ferguson muttered as they tiptoed their way up, watching every shadow like hawks. It was almost impossible to see the floor under all the greenery, so they tread very carefully. “Orders. Cretins. That lot wouldn’t recognise common sense if it danced naked in front of them and hit them on the head with a big bloody sign…”
He hadn’t even asked for his gun back. Maybe it was just as well, considering he was still shaking with anger. Rick kept it tucked into his belt, wishing for a lot more than one Browning Hi-Power with 15 rounds for the three of them. A machete would have come in handy, too; they kept getting scuffed and scratched by the ferns and leaves around them. Still, at least they did have a gun, and he could hardly look a gift horse in the mouth.
Too bad they didn’t have a convenient magical spear this time around…
After being surrounded by guards non-stop for days, the total absence of other humans and the relative silence made it tempting to relax a little bit. Rick knew better. He had more than enough experience with people and places trying to kill him to trust this traitorous boxed-in jungle.
Besides, concentrating on his surroundings was a lot more preferable to the alternative, namely what was undoubtedly happening outside the pyramid.
The Army of Anubis, unleashed a second time.
Rick caught himself wondering whether the Warriors actually remembered rising two years ago, fighting the Medjai, then disappearing back into the sands. The Medjai certainly remembered. Ardeth and his people must have followed the trail – which surely meant that they were outside right now, fighting their second worst nightmare again, dying, too, to defend humanity…
At least Ardeth was still alive. Of this he was sure. How, he had no idea, but the gut feeling was there. Funny, really; he had always felt a mixture of wariness and respect for the man, which had turned into a sense of kinship well before the Medjai had pointed out and explained the half-forgotten tattoo on his arm.
Whether Rick O’Connell really had been a Medjai in a former life or not was a moot point. They ‘got’ each other at a slightly different level than anyone else in their extended family. The first few years, Rick had chalked it up to their both being fighters, used to making the hard choices, with an ingrained sense of duty that had nothing to do with traditional military structures. Ardeth had his tribe and the task of guarding the deadly secrets of Egypt; Rick had his family, small as it was, and the deep-seated urge to shield it from harm.
When he had mentioned it to Evy, she hadn’t taken it lightly or laughed, as he might have feared; she had suggested pensively that perhaps the two men had known each other in a previous life.
Rick had smiled at the theory then. But since their adventure at Ahm Shere two years ago he wasn’t so sure.
Now was not the time for philosophical musings, though. Not with a supernatural army probably already decimating the Medjai and a madman down below channelling an Ancient Egyptian god…
“Wait,” Rick said in a low voice. The other two stopped and looked at him curiously. “We can’t just go. Hamilton’s down there commanding the Army of Anubis. We gotta take him down, now.”
Look who’s getting ‘involved’ now. He could almost hear Evy’s sharp voice in his head, telling him ‘I read the book, I woke him up, and I intend to stop him’ all those years ago. If it had been up to him, he would have grabbed her and hightailed it to another continent. Imhotep could be someone else’s problem. But Evelyn Carnahan was principled, opinionated, and in possession of an unerring sense of responsibility; because of that, a stubborn librarian, a reluctant adventurer, a foppish dilettante, and a determined guardian had saved the world.
Oh God, he thought, Evy. Please let Evy and Alex be okay and very, very far from here.
Aw, who was he kidding. If he knew his wife at all, she was at the heart of things right now, doing whatever she could to make things right. Rick amended his half-prayer. Please, honey, take care of yourself. I don’t think I could bear to lose you a second time.
“I’m all for that,” said Jonathan darkly, yanking Rick back to the present, “but how? He practically has his own bloody army.”
“He’s not in command.”
Rick and Jonathan both turned to Ferguson, who was frowning, lost in thought.
“What d’you mean?”
“Remember when I said I went to see the High Priest of Osiris before we left? He said no mortal can claim Anubis’ army.”
“We got that part,” said Rick as patiently as he could, which was not saying much.
“Hang – hang on. He also said that Hamilton’s… that his body and mind would just be a vessel. Without either, the connection would be broken.”
Kill the bad guy, save the world. Sometimes it really was just as simple as it was complicated. At least that tune was familiar.
“Right.” Rick checked the gun again, made sure the clip was full and that sand had not jammed the mechanism. “Let’s go break a connection, then.”
Retracing their steps proved easier than going forward, as they only had to follow the broken fronds and the crushed ferns. The jungle weaved an entire tapestry of sharp smells and small sounds around them: chittering, scurrying, chattering sounds that made all three men jumpy.
Rick walked in front, followed by Ferguson, Jonathan bringing up the rear. Ferguson looked like any city dweller who’d just been dropped into a completely new and hostile environment, while Rick’s apprehension came from experience. Jonathan, he noticed, was especially jittery, the fingers of his left hand twitching every now and then.
“I can’t believe we’re going back down there to a bunch of trigger-happy idiots and one tosspot with delusions of grandeur,” Rick heard him mutter. “I suppose we’ll just go ‘Oh, don’t mind us, just popping round to kill your boss, we won’t be a bother’, and they’ll say ‘By all means, old thing, shoot the daft bastard, we’ll just put the kettle on and pass the biscuits around, don’t mind the flesh-eating scarabs and the angry pygmy mummies’…”
The steady stream of nervous chatter should have driven Rick out of his mind. In other circumstances he would have told Jonathan to can it before he really got the ball rolling. But it was familiar, and thankfully not in the way the jungle rustled all around them, boxed in every direction by walls, ceilings, and a floor you couldn’t see. Besides, for all his bellyaching, Jonathan kept walking on.
The last mumbled sentences made Ferguson’s ears prick up.
“Flesh-eating scarabs? I thought those were only at Hamunaptra!”
“Figure of speech. Wouldn’t put it past the place, though.” Jonathan gave a full-body shudder. “Just what we’d need, more creepy little buggers trying to eat us alive…”
“O-kay,” said Rick, who didn’t like where the conversation was going, “let’s not get sidetracked here. Ahm Shere – pygmy mummies and jackal-headed soldiers from hell. Hamunaptra – flesh-eating scarabs and the Ten Plagues of Egypt. We got enough on our plate without mixing the two, dontcha think?”
Jonathan gave him a somewhat sheepish look that instantly reminded Rick of Alex when he could be bothered to actually act contrite, and Ferguson looked uncertain.
“Did you really get all ten plagues? I mean, that sounds awfully… Biblical.”
“You’d better believe it got Biblical,” Rick muttered. “Locusts, boils, blood everywhere, night at two in the afternoon… Our mummy buddy spared no expense.”
“Lucky we stopped him before the tenth, though.” Jonathan shifted uncomfortably. “‘About midnight I will go throughout Egypt. Every firstborn son in Egypt will die…’ I wasn’t especially keen on seeing whether that pertained to me or not.”
Ferguson’s eyes went round. “That’s right, your mum was Egyptian…” Then he shook his head. “Look at us. Trying to stop a madman from unleashing an army of jackal creatures, talkin’ about mummies and plagues…” He sighed. “I liked it better when me job was pushing paper and trackin’ ancient artefacts.”
Jonathan clapped him on the shoulder. “Welcome to our world,” he said in the tone he used to make himself look more impressive. Rick suppressed a snicker.
“Twice in ten years, Jonathan. Just twice. It’s a lot, but I don’t think we—”
He felt it the second before he had finished putting his foot down. The roots and shrubs parted and the floor vanished – he was only able to press the left side of his right foot on a hard surface before slipping. His leg followed his foot, his entire right side followed his leg, and before he knew it, he was hurtling down a steep slope, his body rolling and tumbling against the stone. Fronds and enormous leaf blades slapped and scraped at him along the way; he only managed to slow down when he caught hold of some kind of root as thick as his wrist. In the sudden lull he heard Jonathan shout his name before the root gave out and he was falling again.
Rick only had time to curl into the tightest ball he could before his body hit the ground and shut down.
.⅋.
A battle won without bloodshed was an even sweeter victory, Atifa reflected, gazing at the Westerners sitting in a huddle in the middle of camp. A few of them had tried to resist, fight back, but they had been quickly overwhelmed by either force or the sight of their already captive comrades. In the end, they had lined up to drop their weapons into a pile and resigned themselves to being prisoners.
All the Medjai had to do now was wait, and pray.
Maher was staring at the top of the Pyramid of Ahm Shere when she walked up to him. As usual, he didn’t need to talk to voice his thoughts. The gaze he turned to her was very eloquent.
“I know,” said Atifa in a low voice. “Everybody felt it.”
Relief flashed in her chieftain’s eyes, quickly replaced by a grimly inquisitive expression.
“Yes, I remember.” How could she forget? They had both battled the Army of Anubis before. They had both faced its herald, the darkness that washed over hearts before being deposited on the sand and turning into a many jackal-headed nightmare. Knowing what followed made it even worse than the first time. Knowing their people and their commander would be fighting it again, and being unable to fight side by side… That was torture.
Atifa’s head turned to the desert as though of its own accord. Maher followed her gaze, then lightly touched her shoulder and shook his head.
Maher hardly, if ever, talked. He devised tactics, gave orders, shared the good times and the bad, almost always silently. This was unusual, and a few people sneered at the idea of serving under a man who was, barring a few exceptions, a mute, but he was the best chieftain Atifa could think of serving. What he lacked in words he made up for in observation skills. He was a fount of knowledge about subjects like tracking, covert operations, and, oddly enough, constellations.
And he demonstrated every day that a man could have a kind, unguarded heart and still be a fearsome warrior in his own right. People had tried to test his role as chieftain. People had failed.
Sometimes he read other people’s faces wrong; right now, though, Atifa only needed to look at him to know he had interpreted her reaction correctly.
“I know we can’t help them,” she sighed. “And I know our place is here, guarding the Pyramid and the prisoners. But –”
She was interrupted by a loud voice and turned to see Djedi, one of her men, running up to her.
“—Coming! They’re coming!”
Maher raised his hands. One he used to get the panicked young man to stop and breathe, the other to encourage him to explain.
“The Warriors of Anubis! Wazad saw a detachment breaking from the main army. They’re coming here!”
Absolute fear washed over Atifa. “How many?” she asked, doing her utmost to keep her voice steady.
“Wazad didn’t say!”
Maher’s hand came to rest on Djedi’s shoulder. With his left, he indicated his eyes, and pointed to the direction Djedi had run from.
“Go,” he said, his voice low. “Count. Come back.”
Djedi swallowed hard, nodded, and ran off.
Maher’s face was stone. He strode to the nearest campfire and picked up a flaming stick, then drew a small circle with it. The aftereffects lingered for a second, giving Atifa the impression of a circle of light around the fire.
“We can’t run, can we.”
Maher shook his head.
“Then we make our stand here.”
A grim nod from her chieftain. The panic abated slightly, enough for sombre resolution to settle. Atifa took a long, deep breath, trying not to think that this might be one of her last, and turned to the men and women guarding the Westerners.
“Farid, Intef, Janan! Leave the prisoners. The Warriors are coming. Take two men each and build a barrier of fire around the camp. We’ll end up fighting inside it and probably outside, so make it big enough. Dismantle the tents if you have to, use everything that burns. Quickly, we don’t have much time.”
The camp came alive with focused despair as men and women left their posts to grab torches and fuel for the flaming barricade. From the corner of her eye, Atifa saw the Westerners mutter between each other with mounting animation.
As she struck down a nearby tent, relieved to see that the structure was made out of wood, she heard a voice call in atrocious Arabic, “Excuse me?”
She turned to the group. A dark-haired man was on his feet, his face pale in the firelight.
“Yes?” she said in English. The man appeared relieved, and continued in his own tongue.
“I thought I heard the word ‘warriors’. That didn’t mean the other, er… your compatriots, did it?”
The last word was unfamiliar, but the question was obvious.
“Your leader released the Army of Anubis. Last time it only spread out from the Oasis of Ahm Shere, but now the jackal warriors are coming here to kill us all.”
The Westerner paled even further. “We, er… How can we help?”
Atifa pinned him with her most withering stare.
“‘Help’?”
“Well, we all agreed that Hamilton’s a madman and that he did something really, monumentally stupid.” A couple of angry mutters rose from the back of the group. The man glared in their general direction, then turned back to her. “Most of us agreed, anyway. If we’re going to die, might as well die standing.”
Atifa took two seconds to think. Then she went to Maher and explained the situation in a few short words. Maher nodded curtly, and went back to the barricade to help and wait for Djedi’s news.
The Westerners’ firearms would be useless. They would only barely have enough blades for everyone. Some would probably find themselves armed with only torches.
This was madness. But they needed the numbers.
Atifa went back to the group to find all of them on their feet, some shivering, some resolute, the rest a mix of the two.
“What’s your name?” she asked the self-appointed spokesman.
“O—Owens. Mark Owens.”
“Mark Owens, my name is Atifa, daughter of Amenia, and I will allow you and your men to fight by our side. If anyone tries to betray us, he will be dead before his hand falls.”
Owens gulped, but stood a little taller. “You’re not the enemy. They are.”
“As long as it is clear to everyone. And remember – when this is over, you are still our prisoners.”
“Better a prisoner than a bloody corpse,” said another man behind Owens. Everybody nodded in agreement.
When Djedi and Wazad came running back from their look-out post with the certitude that they were about to be set upon by about two hundred jackal-headed abominations, the combined forces of the Medjai and Hamilton’s men amounted to eighty people. Eighty human beings huddled behind a bulwark of fire, too low, too flimsy to really protect them. Eighty humans who had been fighting each other just hours ago, and stood now shoulder to shoulder, not ready to face the horrors in the dark but standing anyway.
They could hear roaring now. Atifa’s palms were sweaty around the grip of her sword.
In front of them, under the starlight, darkness advanced relentlessly.
.⅋.
“RICK! You’d better not be dead, so help me God I’ll – Rick! For God’s sake, can you hear me?”
Jonathan knew he was yelling, knew he should not be yelling, and was well past caring. Miles and miles, in fact. Rick had disappeared down some kind of incline so steep it was almost a well, and he had no idea how deep the drop was or how hard the landing had been. This, to him, more than justified screaming his throat raw, prudence be damned.
That bloody pyramid had already been the death of his sister; they had only got her back on a fluke. There was, simply put, no way in hell it would claim his brother-in-law.
Tom dropped to a crouch beside him, his face pale, and laid a hand on his shoulder that Jonathan barely felt.
“Jon – Jon, please, be quiet, mate – Baine and his guys must be lookin’ for us, you’re gonna draw them ‘ere –”
“Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” said Jonathan, still bent over the drop trying to catch sight of how far it went and where the bottom was. “They might have rope with them. Do you have rope? Here, let me see your bag.”
He was aware that he was babbling, that his hands were shaking as he ripped Tom’s rucksack from his shoulders to rummage through its contents, and that he couldn’t seem to get his voice down to a normal pitch. It just didn’t seem very important right now.
Rick couldn’t be dead, he just couldn’t be. He needed to save the world, he needed to go back to Evy and Alex once the dust settled, to butt heads with his irresponsible reprobate of a brother-in-law, to be tired and battered and still make low-key jokes about mummies and big bugs and the end of the world…
Tom grabbed Jonathan’s arm and snapped “Jon, shut up and listen”, making Jonathan realise two things at the same time. One, he’d actually been muttering his train of thought under his breath instead of keeping it safely in his head. And two, in the sudden silence and stillness a small sound rose from the bottom of the precipice.
“Ow.”
The panic rushed out of Jonathan in a flash, leaving him light-headed and shivering. He fell back on his arse in a graceless heap of limbs, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
“Rick?”
“…Yeah?”
“Are you all right?”
“Kinda.”
“Please elaborate?”
There was a silence, then a distant rustle.
“Feels like I got dragged behind a car for a mile or two. I’m okay, though, considering. No broken bones or anything.”
“Can you stand?”
“Hell, I can even walk. Ow.”
Rick’s voice seemed to come from far away, but it sounded fairly strong and no less articulated than usual. When Jonathan opened his eyes again and crept towards the drop, he could make out a light-coloured blur between the criss-crossing vines and lianas. The wall Rick had fallen along to wasn’t quite vertical, but it was sheer enough to make climbing back up next to impossible, especially without a rope.
“Think we could climb down?” asked Tom, sounding doubtful. Rick’s answer was sharp and immediate.
“Don’t even try. Those vines can’t hold worth a damn. You’d break your neck.”
“Well,” Jonathan pointed out in his most reasonable voice, which had nothing on Evy’s but still worked occasionally, “we’ll just have to find a way down, then, won’t we?”
“No you won’t. I’m coming up. I can see stairs over there.”
“I don’t, so I highly doubt yours lead up to here.”
“They gotta lead somewhere. This place looks kinda familiar, I think I know where to go.”
“Hopefully not into another death trap, old boy. Do you have any idea what Evy would say if I made it out of that bloody pyramid and you didn’t?”
“Jonathan. Just…” Silence. Jonathan wondered if Rick had noticed the way his voice had pitched up near the end of the sentence. With his luck, he probably had. Hence the tone – a mixture of ‘shut up’ and ‘calm down’. “You do remember I still have the gun, right?”
“…Yes?” Jonathan said uncertainly. “And?”
“So you two are gonna hunker down where it’s safe and not attract the attention of the other guys with guns till I can come up and even the odds a little.”
“That’s your plan, is it?”
“Yup.”
Jonathan was torn. On one hand, the idea of staying put in relative safety had a lot of appeal. On the other, it meant keeping the group separated, and he knew from experience that it could lead to all sorts of bad things.
“Your plan,” he declared, mostly for the sake of argument, “is terrible.”
“Maybe. But that’s what we’re gonna do.”
Well, nothing for it I suppose.
“Watch your footing while you’re down there?”
After eleven years, Jonathan didn’t even need to see Rick to know when he was being glared at.
“Just stay out of trouble,” Rick said, and then the light blur disappeared and silence descended once more.
After a while, he heard a shuffle behind him. Tom held his rucksack in one hand, picking up his things with the other.
“You made a right mess of my bag,” he said quietly, a small smile in his voice. Jonathan ran a hand over his face and shuffled closer, picking up a notebook.
“Yes, sorry about that. I – well. I was in a bit of a hurry.”
Tom shot him a wry look, but didn’t comment.
In his frantic search for rope, Jonathan hadn’t really looked at the contents of the bag properly. What he found lying around and handed back to Tom to put away ended up being a pencil bag, a toolkit, two clips of ammunition for the gun currently in Rick’s possession, a half-empty flask of water, a meagre first-aid kit, and two small notebooks.
“You know,” he said, “maybe it comes from having a brother-in-law who can’t travel anywhere without packing half an arsenal, but I think you’re falling a little short of the mark regarding weaponry.”
Tom made a face.
“I don’t know what you think me job is, Jon, but I’m not some kind of gunslinger. Don’t get me wrong, I can shoot, but that’s not what I signed up for.” He sighed. “Then again, what I signed up for wasn’t really what I signed up for, so…”
Jonathan paused, toolkit in hand.
“Well, what did you sign up for, then?”
“Protecting antiques,” Tom replied firmly. “Only, you know, not stealing them from museums. And pretending I’m an idiot as a cover.”
“Only pretending?”
“Oh, do shut up,” grumbled Tom as Jonathan grinned. “I fooled you, didn’t I?”
Jonathan felt his grin slip several notches. A lot had happened since that late afternoon in Giza when his friend had pointed a gun at him and stopped being ‘Tommy’. ‘Tommy’ was a warm memory of loud laughter, daring escapes, bright eyes over pints clinking in the comfortable darkness of a well-loved pub. Tom, on the other hand, was a fairly decent man chucked into a complex situation, who had a wife he loved dearly but lied to about his job, who had not wanted to bring harm to an old friend but had done so anyway.
Who had also put himself between Jonathan and a gun twice, and almost got killed for it.
A lot had happened, indeed, but the reminder was still anything but innocuous. It poked at certain areas that were still somewhat tender.
Tom’s look was apologetic this time.
“Bit too soon?”
“Bit too soon.” A thought occurred, and Jonathan allowed his smile to resurface, cheekily, if a little gingerly still. “You know you didn’t fool Evy for a second, though. She had the measure of you, right enough.”
“Smart woman.”
“You have no idea.”
Into the bag the toolkit went, and Tom picked up the rucksack. It still looked mostly empty despite everything that had gone into it.
The few steps between the edge of whatever it was Rick had fallen into and a safer spot near an archway were made in silence. Which was how they heard the footfall.
It wasn’t Rick. That much was obvious. Unless he had picked up an escort along the way.
Jonathan pushed Tom against a wall and flattened himself next to him. Maybe, if they didn’t breathe or think too loudly, the men walking along the wall wouldn’t cross the doorway. Maybe they wouldn’t see them. Maybe…
Jonathan and Tom looked at each other, drew their hands back in unison, and drove their fists into the first faces that came their way.
Two men fell to the floor, groaning, while a third sprang back, raising his hands frantically.
“Whoa, whoa, stop! We were looking for you!”
“Of course you were,” spat Tom, massaging his knuckles. Jonathan knew exactly how he felt. The shock of colliding with his opponent’s skull had made his entire forearm ring like a bell for half a minute. Surely boxing hadn’t hurt that much when he was a lad. “Baine’s orders were clear, weren’t they?”
“But we’re not acting on Baine’s orders,” muttered one of the men on the ground, rubbing his jaw. “He’s a thug. And Hamilton’s off his bloody nut.”
“Come to your senses, have you?” Jonathan quipped. “That couldn’t have happened earlier, before Hamilton’s little light show and especially before you tried to murder us and my brother-in-law?”
The man who was still standing mumbled something Jonathan didn’t catch, then asked, “Where is the American anyway?”
“He’ll be joining us shortly. What are you doing here, if you changed your minds about killing us?”
The tall, broad-shouldered man Tom had punched was the last to pick himself up from the floor. “Like Vaughn said, we were looking for you.”
“We, er,” said Vaughn meekly, “thought you might know a way out of this death trap.”
Tom’s eyes grew cynical. “Of course. Turn right, then straight up until the supernatural army from hell.”
“And that’s if you escape the pygmy mummies,” Jonathan added smugly, crossing his arms. “But considering the Army of Anubis is your boss’ fault, you might want to do something about that first.”
Two of the three men looked at each other uncertainly. The burly one scoffed. “Pygmy mummies. You must really think we’re some sort of—”
“I don’t have to think, old boy, I know you’re the worst sort of, well, sort. But I’m not pulling your leg.”
“He’s really not, Norton,” said Tom, shaking his head. “Norton, Vaughn, Wyndham,” he added, turning to Jonathan and pointing at each of them in turn. “Maybe not the biggest pillocks I’ve ever worked with after all, but they come close. Are you even armed?”
“Of course we are!” protested Wyndham, opening his bag and taking out a stick of dynamite. “Look, we have explosives, and guns, and –”
“What a splendid idea. How about you lend us a couple?”
Wyndham looked at Jonathan like he had sprouted a second head.
“Why would we want to give you weapons?”
“Because somebody’s going to have to do something about bloody Hamilton and Anubis’ bloody army,” Jonathan snapped, nerves already frayed and nearing the end of their tether. “And frankly, the fact that I’m going to have to be a part of it should tell you just how bollocksed the whole situation is!”
Either his little tirade hit its mark, or the three agents simply didn’t want to get punched again. Jonathan found himself in possession of a handgun similar to the one Rick had taken from Tom, while Tom checked the clip of his own borrowed gun. Norton appeared to be sulking.
Wyndham slunk up to Jonathan, dynamite stick still in hand. “Er… When you said ‘pygmy mummies’… You didn’t mean the chaps in the Congo, did you?”
“Absolutely not. I mean eldritch little creatures about knee-high with sharp teeth and knives who delight in disembowelling people. They make spiffy shrunken heads, too, I’ve seen them.”
“Jon, stop scarin’ the kids,” said Tom. He was a few feet away, investigating a pile of something that must have been stone before it got covered in gunk. “Especially Wyndham here. He’s a bit trigger-happy.”
“I am not!” protested Wyndham.
“Oh yeah? You were one of the first to shoot at me not an hour ago, you little –”
Jonathan shrugged. “He asked.”
Norton said nothing, but looked uncomfortable. Vaughn glanced at Jonathan uncertainly and went to sit not far from Tom with a thoughtful look on his face. The three agents seemed to have absolutely no idea what to do next. Tom appeared to have no such problem: he was digging into the half-solid muck, sleeves rolled up on his arms, trying to extract what looked to be a statuette of a scorpion and a big tablet out of the sludge.
There was a lull in the conversation, followed by somewhat awkward silence. Jonathan, who had no patience for awkward silences, was racking his mind for something to do to pass the time until Rick found them when he realised his heart was going a mile a minute. It was pounding against his ribcage, making him almost sick to his stomach, as though angry that his brain wasn’t catching up.
But what…
When it finally hit him, it hit him like a locomotive going on full speed ahead. The pyramid was silent. Deadly silent. The little sounds that came from unseen bugs and critters had stopped. And this could only mean one thing.
Jonathan’s mouth went dry.
“Tom?”
Tom looked up, puzzled and somewhat apprehensive.
“Yeah?”
A sense of déjà vu struck Jonathan, whose brain helpfully provided him with the memory of him and Tom a few days ago, seconds before the Medjai attack on the camp, saying the same two words, down to the inflections.
“They’re coming.”
A susurrus ran through the plants around them, a hissing whisper that seemed to carry small cackling laughter with it. Jonathan felt the small hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He clutched his gun and glanced wildly around.
The movement got the agents’ attention. Only then did they notice the sounds.
“Here,” said Norton, striding towards the next room, “what’s th—”
A spear whistled through the air and skewered his forehead. He was dead before he hit the ground.
Jonathan screamed. So did Wyndham, half a second later. Vaughn and Tom scrambled up, spouting a mix of curses and inarticulate yelling.
“Fall back! Fall back!” Vaughn shouted. Wyndham ran up to him and Tom, wild-eyed, waving his ingot of dynamite like a torch.
“Where to!?” he wailed. The hissing seemed to come from all directions, bouncing from the walls, surrounding them, taunting them. It seemed to drill into Jonathan’s skull, driving out all coherent thought. He kept pointing his gun at the rustling ferns, searching desperately for something to shoot.
Behind him, Tom yelled, “Don’t, you bloody idiot –”
Jonathan whirled round to see Tom, still cradling his big tablet against him with his left arm, reach for Wyndham with the hand that also held his gun, while Vaughn’s jaw dropped open at the sight of the still-open lighter in Wyndham’s hand.
The tableau burned itself crystal-clear on Jonathan’s retinas just before the dynamite exploded.
It took a while for Jonathan to realise he hadn’t, in fact, lost consciousness. The silence had been replaced with a shrill, high-pitched sound, like some sort of alarm going off much too late. The ferns and leaves were no longer rustling. In fact, when he opened his eyes, blinking a few times to drive away the mist, the plants were all gone. In their place was a mountain of broken bricks and big chunks of what had been a wall of gold and stone.
The plants were gone… and so were the four people who had been in the chamber with him.
Jonathan’s mouth opened and closed a few times before his brain sparked into life again. When it did, he took a deep breath and shouted, “TOM!”
“Shush, don’t, I’m right here,” muttered a very welcome voice from the other side of the wall. “Are you all right? Are they gone?”
The emphasis on ‘they’ puzzled Jonathan for all of four seconds before the memories of a couple of minutes ago stampeded back through his brain with the subtlety of a herd of panicked camels. He scrambled up, swaying and seeing stars from the head rush, and clutched the gun he had picked up without even thinking.
Nothing.
The sounds he had come to associate with the in-pyramid jungle were back as though they never stopped. There was no sniggering, no hissing, no susurrus. Only the usual rustling and skittering that meant normal jungle activity. For a given value of ‘normal’, of course.
“Sounds like it,” he said uncertainly, putting the gun in his belt. “Do you hear anything from your side?”
“Only Wyndham’s teeth chattering. He had a bit of a scare.” Tom’s voice had the biting, icy quality it only got when he was badly rattled. “Which should be a lesson to him in the future – if he has a future, considering he’s so terminally stupid as to light a dynamite stick in confined spaces with other people close by!”
“I am not!” protested Wyndham, more weakly than the first time. In the background, Vaughn groaned.
“Bloody hell, Norton…”
The reminder was sobering. The image of the poor bastard with a spear through his head remained seared in Jonathan’s mind whether his eyes were open or closed. At least it had been instantaneous and presumably painless.
“I’m so sorry, Vaughn,” he heard Tom say quietly. Wyndham gave a faint whimper.
There was a silence, during which Jonathan – mostly for something to do with his hands – walked up to the cave-in and looked for rocks to move to take the wall down. Or at least make a big enough hole in it for a man to go through.
“Where do you think those creatures went?” asked Tom after a while. Jonathan kept inspecting the stones.
“As far away from us as possible, hopefully. What was that thing I saw you mucking about with?”
“I have no idea. I think it’s an incantation of sorts, probably for the Scorpion King? I can only make out a few hieroglyphs. It says… hang on… Followers of the Sunset King – no, wait, of the ruler of the West… something something on their side… It’s ‘ard to tell underneath that crust.”
The Scorpion King was dead, and so was Imhotep, yet Jonathan couldn’t help a shudder. “Would you mind not reading it aloud? Just in case. We really don’t need another supernatural menace after us.”
Behind the rock wall, Tom chuckled.
“You didn’t used to be superstitious.”
“I didn’t used to see cursed mummies come back to life every ten years.”
“Fair point.” A pause. “Jon? Can I ask—”
Jonathan never knew what Tom meant to ask him. He was interrupted by a hair-raising scream that sounded like Wyndham and an awful noise that didn’t sound like it could – or should – ever come from a human being but probably came from Vaughn.
From then on, it was pandemonium.
“Where are they…?”
“Tom, what’s—”
“DOWN!”
“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod—”
“Bloody hell –”
“Ferguson! They’re—”
“Oh f—Run!”
“TOM!” Jonathan clawed at the wall, no longer paying attention to which stones he should take down first, completely beside himself with panic and worry. The only thing on his mind was making his way through the cave-in to get to Tom. What else might make its way across didn’t even occur to him. He barely registered a rock falling on his instep.
And then, all of a sudden, there was nothing. The only sound he was aware of was his own blood hammering against his eardrums. Around him, the jungle kept breathing, chattering, living. Of Tom and the other two agents, there was no trace.
“Tom? Are you… Tom, bloody answer me, please.”
Jonathan hardly dared to breathe. His heart had jumped up into his throat, blocking all sound, making his voice come out strangled.
“Tom, I think it’s safe to come out now. They’re gone. …Tom?”
Why wouldn’t the bloody rocks come down already!
“Tom, for God’s sake!”
Only silence answered him.
“Tom? …Tommy?”
.⅋.
Notes:
1) I can hardly believe believe it took 178 pages and almost 111,000 words before this story passed the Bechdel Test, and barely at that. I’m glad it did, though :o)
2) The further this chapter got for eleven years was Ardeth’s part (which was supposed to open the chapter) and 1,200 words of Rick’s, Jonathan’s and Tom’s scene. Hopefully the transition between 26 years old writer Bel and 37 years old writer Bel is seamless. (The rewrites helped.)
3) I am sorry about that last scene and you are free to yell as much as you like as long as it’s inarticulate shouting and not actual insults.
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