#fronting it i ran and loed to a doctor to get a sick leave but thwn pysche i avtually did get sick because mt mother is sick and i was stay

[uriduriragwaenchana]

BTS are going to the GRAMMYS so tune in folks 8/9 central or sumn on CBS;

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-a moodboard by yours truly

[amlovelies]

are we there yet?

this is another one of those deleted prompts from January that I am just now filling. better late than never right? Sidestep days, post nanosurge hurt/comfort. some mild spoilers for the public demo

big thanks to everyone on discord for all your help and feedback with this 💜

12. things you said while you thought I was asleep from this prompt list

fandom: fhr pairing: Julia Ortega/f!sidestep (Cynthia Basri) rating: T mention of mental trauma, migraines, nosebleeds, and cursing words: 2.7k read on ao3

              It’s not until you hear Ortega’s voice that you realize the pounding isn’t just your migraine, but rather her fists against your front door.

               “Cynthia, I swear to God I will break this door down!”

               Part of you just wants to try and call her bluff and roll back over, try to lose yourself to the state of semi-consciousness you’ve been floating in for God knows how long. The other part of you knows she’ll do it. There’s thunder in her voice; she’s reached the end of her patience. Breaking it down wouldn’t even phase her, and the last thing you need right now is to deal with that mess. 

               “Don’t you dare,” you try to yell, but your voice just cracks from lack of use and dehydration.

               It’s too fucking bright outside, even with Ortega looming in your doorway blocking most of the light. She’s tense, brow furrowed and her lips turned down in a frown. You’re too tired for this. Too tired for whatever confrontation she wants. You don’t bother with a greeting; it’s not like you invited her here. Leaving the door open, you trudge back to your bed and bury your face in the pillow.

               You hear her close the door as she walks into your small studio. “I guess this explains why you weren’t answering your phone.”

               You peek up to see her kneeling next to the shattered device. You’d thrown it when it wouldn’t stop ringing. You had tried to turn it off, but the buttons were too small, too difficult to manipulate. You just needed the noise to end. There was already so much chaos in your head, bouncing and rebounding off the sides of your skull, pooling behind your eyes, settling between your teeth. You were so desperate for some semblance of peace.

               Was that two days ago or three? You can’t remember. Time has stretched and blurred, too many days in pain. Too many days with your brain full to bursting. You’re no stranger to pain, no stranger to migraines, but it’s never been like this. The first few days you’d been able to keep going, to swallow the pills, to swallow the pain and keep moving. It’s not like your comfort had ever mattered, but the pain hadn’t stopped. Two weeks now and you are tired, so tired.

               “Somebody wouldn’t quit calling,” you say with a glare which just bounces off her. “I’m not dead, so you can quit worrying and go home.” The words slur on your tongue. It’s difficult to make it move the way you want to, but you get your point across just the same.

               “Like hell I will.” Stubborn. “I’m not leaving you here like this.” So damn stubborn and arrogant. What does she think she can do to fix this?

               “Please, just leave me the fuck alone, Julia.” It’s hard to keep your eyes open. Crystals dance in the edges making everything blur and twist.  

               “Not a chance.” You feel the bed dip as she sits down next to you and places a soothing hand on your forehead.

               You whimper at the contact. The press of her hand alleviating some of the throbbing in your temple, making it a little more bearable. After a few minutes she gets up, and you groan at the loss of her touch. You almost call her back, ask her not to leave, not to stop touching you, but that would be too much. You can hear her rummaging around the apartment. You should probably care, probably worry about the invasion of privacy, but it’s too much effort.

               Besides, you are the most incriminating thing she could find.

               When she comes back to sit on the bed, she gives you a choice: the hospital or the ranch. She’s already packed your bag, and her mouth is a firm line. There’s no way out of this. She is more than capable of carrying you out of here against your will.

               You take the lesser evil. Not that you are thrilled by the thought of spending hours in the car, not with the havoc the migraine has wrecked on your ability to keep any food down. When was the last time you ate anything besides dry toast? If you get sick in her car it’ll serve her right for meddling.

               By some miracle the traffic isn’t terrible. Ortega is driving fast, reckless, but that’s Ortega. Los Diablos disappears behind you and the relief is immense. The roar of too many souls in too little space fades away.  You can still feel the drivers around you. Blips of impressions, emotions, frustrations, occasionally the lyrics of a favorite song, but they’re gone too fast to stick, too fast to hurt. They can’t touch you.

               Ortega helps too. The static nothing of her thoughts like a cool compress to your fevered brain. A maze to get lost in, to try and shut everything away. Not that you’d ever tell her that. It would just give her another reason to stick around every time you get hurt.

               Shields had been your first lesson. The most important thing in a telepath’s arsenal, it’s too easy to be overwhelmed otherwise, to lose yourself in the howling around you. So many thoughts and feelings and emotions. Shields were your savior.

               Your shields are gone.

               Maybe the nanovores devoured them. A small price to pay when you compare it to the flesh missing from Ortega’s arm, to so many people just gone, to so much loss. What was your sanity in the face of that?

               Maybe you are broken. It’s never taken you this long to recover before. It’s never been so hard to get your shields back. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. She’ll force you to the hospital if this continues much longer, and you won’t be able to run. Even at your best she’s always been faster and stronger than you. Right now, you doubt you could dodge a single blow, doubt that you could throw a punch or misdirect a mind.

               It’s not like the doctors could do anything for you anyway. Not the ones in Los Diablos at least. There were other doctors, specialists who loved nothing more than taking you apart and seeing what made you tick, how to make it better, how to make it stronger. What would they think about what you had done?

               How would they try to use you because of it?

               It’s too easy to remember. Too easy to remember rough hands and cold instruments. Fluorescent lights reflecting on exposed tattoos as you ran the drill again, again, again. Failure was not an option. Especially not when she was watching.

               Your mouth tastes like copper and it’s too familiar.

                “Jesus, Cyn,” Ortega’s voice breaks through your thoughts, “your nose.”

               Fuck. Looking down you can see where the blood has already dripped onto your flannel.

               Shields don’t just protect you from what’s outside. There are things inside you thought you’d locked away too.

               “Don’t worry. I didn’t bleed on your seat.” You’d meant the words to bite, to set her at ease, but you just sound exhausted. Weak. She keeps glancing over at you, her brow wrinkled.

               The shirt is already fucked; you might as well use the sleeve to sop up the mess. You’re almost grateful for the nose bleed. It’s better than the memories you were lost in. There’s pain and then there’s pain. “I’m fine. Just keep your eyes on the road, idiot.”

               A huff, but she turns her attention back to the highway.

               Good.

               “I thought you said the nosebleeds had stopped.” Her voice is tight and you can see the tension where her hand grips the gear shift. Sparks dancing over knuckles.

               “I did,” you say as you let your head rest against the window. It feels cool against your forehead and you sigh in relief. “It’s not that big of a deal. It’s better than it was.” It is. The first few days after the nanosurge, it felt like the nosebleeds were happening every couple of hours.

               Minutes pass in silence, and for a moment you think that maybe she’ll just let it go. That hope is dashed as you feel the car begin to slow down. You’re still an hour at least from the ranch. Still climbing the grapevine up into the mountains. You haven’t even reached the toll roads that sprung up to replace the damaged five following the big one. Not that Ortega would have to pay, the shiny Rangers decal on her windshield a free pass almost anywhere in the FEZ. You’re nowhere near the central valley, and you feel a stab of fear at the thought that maybe she’s changed her mind. Maybe she is taking away your choice, and she’ll turn the car around and drive you to the hospital.

               Should you bail out now? Run while she least expects it? The hillsides are sparse and desolate following last season’s wildfires. The twisted layers and striations of the rocks are a stark reminder of the violent potential of the land. There’s nowhere to hide. Nowhere that she couldn’t find you, couldn’t catch you. Still, it would be better to die of exposure or thirst in the mountains than to return to that place.

               “What are you doing?” you ask, trying to hide the panic in your voice.

               She doesn’t answer as she brings the car to a stop off the side of the road and gets out. Not turning around then. You breathe a sigh of relief as you hear her rummaging around in the trunk, a thud accompanied by a soft curse, and then she is pulling open your door. You repeat your question.

               “Do you expect me to just ignore it? Just keep driving like everything is fine?” she asks as she opens a bottle of water and begins to dampen a napkin with it.

               “Yes? It’s not like you’ve never seen me with a bloody nose before. Fuck, you’ve given me one.”

                She shushes you before pushing your hand out of the way and gently dabbing under your nose with the wet napkin. “That’s training. It’s different.”

               “Not really,” you say with a shrug. “Blood is blood.”

               “At least it’s stopped,” she says with a frown as she finishes wiping away the evidence.

               “See I told you it’s nothing to worry about, idiot.”

               Her hand cups your face, eyes staring into yours and you can’t bear it. You have to look away. You’ve helped bandage her up more than once, plugged in her mods, wrapped her cracked ribs, but you’ve rarely let her return the favor. Always dancing away from her hands, finding a way to slip away in the crowd before she can pull you to the medical tent. Too many secrets too easily revealed that way.

               There’s nothing for her to stitch or wrap or heal now, just you and your broken brain and blood on your shirt, but she is here, so present. Her thumb is rubbing along your cheek, along your scar, her hand so often finding its way there.

               A kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering as if she could have any effect on the damage underneath the surface.

               You don’t argue when she tells you to drink some water. Swallow the pill she offers you. It’ll be stronger than anything you have access to. You’re thankful for the clean shirt she offers you. The last thing you need is to give Tía Elena another reason to worry and fuss after you. Julia leans against the hood of the car as you light up a cigarette.  Just one, and then you are pulling back onto the road.

               Maybe it’s the nicotine, or the painkiller, or just being away from the city, but you can feel the pressure behind your eyes lifting.

                 You drift in and out of consciousness. Ortega chats with herself, a running commentary of complaints, about paperwork and the media team. The stupid outfits they wanted her to wear for a photo shoot. Never comfortable with silence, she always wants to fill the space with words or actions. Can’t pace when she’s in the car, so words it is.

               You don’t really sleep, not really. Just drift in and out. There’s a lot less traffic on the roads this far from the city center, and it’s peaceful. Your head still feels tight, unpleasant, but the painkillers Ortega gave you were no joke. Guess she wasn’t kidding about the Ranger’s health plan being second to none.

               “Cyn?” your name draws your focus, but you’re too tired to respond. “Are you asleep?” A pause as she waits for you to respond, and when you don’t, she keeps talking anyway. “Still wish you’d let me take you to the hospital. Stubborn idiot.” A soft chuckle, and she continues, “I know, I know, pot kettle but still, at least I let the doctors look me over before I ignore their advice.”

               She keeps talking, her voice quieter than before, barely a whisper in the empty air of the car. “I hate it, you know--” she takes a deep breath and her voice is brittle when she begins speaking again-- “watching you slink off after a fight. Not knowing how badly you’ve been hurt.”

               It’s nothing she hasn’t said before, but usually with shouted words and frustrated huffs, not whatever this is. If you didn’t know better, you’d say she sounds fearful, or maybe that’s just you. Fearful of where Julia might be going with this.  She stops speaking, but you can hear her fingers tapping against the wheel, as if continuing the conversation in her own head.                  

               You want to pretend to wake up, to save yourself from her concern, but you feel frozen. It’s like listening from underwater. The combination of the lingering pain and exhaustion and the numbing effect of the painkillers keeps you submerged, unable to surface.  

               “I worry about you. I just wish . . .” her voice trails off. ”I guess that doesn’t really matter.”

               Her fingers keep tapping against the wheel. You wish you hadn’t told her to turn off the radio. Her singing would be preferable to the anxiety you’re feeling now.

               You don’t want to know what else she might say.  You desperately want to hear what else she might say.

               “Cynthia, I—" Her voice cracks and it feels like a blow, quick and painful in your chest —  “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” There’s a desperate edge to her voice which you don’t understand. You’re the one who almost lost her, not the other way around. Why else would you shatter yourself, except to save her?

               For a moment you had thought she was going to say something else. You should be relieved. Relieved that she didn’t say it.

               You’re being fucking stupid. Drugged and stupid and wishing for things you can’t have. It’s always been an unsteady thing, this spark between the two of you. She’d push and you’d pull away. She’d give up, and go out.

               Photos in the tabloids screaming out at you from the newsstands.

               Who has Charge been seen with now? What sharp jawed man has had his arm around her waist?

               She never denied it, and why should she?

               You said it yourself. It was just fun.

               There’s a tightness in your chest making it difficult to breath.

               It doesn’t matter how much you want to hear those words. It doesn’t matter how much you wish you could reveal the truth to her. You belong hidden. In the darkness. Any attempt to expose you to the light will leave you shriveled and burned away. Exposed for the fraud that you are.

                You jump in surprise as fingers tuck a strand of hair gently behind your ear

               “Sorry,” she says as she pulls her hand back. She gives a small embarrassed laugh as she rubs the back of her neck and adds, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

               “Whatever,” you grumble and avoid looking at her. Reaching forward you turn on the radio. It takes a minute or two to find a station, but once you do you settle back into your seat in relief. The noise is a much more controllable pain. “Are we there yet?”

               “Not quite.”

[creativeashproductions]

If I Stay Part Two (Final) // Luke Patterson

Summary: Life as you knew it shattered and now you’re left picking up the pieces with memories of a boy with hazel eyes in your dreams. A handsome guitarist who easily becomes your unseen number one supporter. If only you could see him again.

Warning: Swearing, mention of injuries, mention of car accident and talk of death.

Words: 2.5k (excluding the song lyrics of “I Won’t Let Go” by Rascal Flatts)

A/N: Second and last part to If I Stay! I really enjoyed this story because I adored Charlie St. Cloud and I really enjoyed If I Stay. The second part to Lost Time will be up soon when I feel confident in the storyline of it.

If I Stay Part One

Masterlist

In a split second for the first time, you felt yourself, poof, away to a sterile white room staring down at the person in the bed. Covered in cuts and bruises of all colours, was you. A broken version of you that made you sick to your stomach. You desperately yearned to go back to being unaware.

“I’m…a ghost?” You breathed looking at your blemish-free hands, a juxtaposition to the arm in a cast. Then in a nauseating thought, the grief faded for fear on your family. Had they survived? You ran out of the room straight to a nurse, “Where are my parents! Where’s my cousin Lou?”

Of course, the nurse was unaware of an upset, emotional teenage girl, a victim of a car crash and in a battle for her life. Realizing no one would answer you spent hours running around the hospital searching for your parents or Lou.

“Lou!” You shouted through the halls unfazed as you ran literally through gurneys and medical equipment even the odd doctor.

At the very last room, you found Lou sitting up in a bed staring silently at the white wall with an official man seated by the side of her bed. He held a clipboard in his hand.

“Lou, how are you feeling?” The man spoke, his white coat embroidered with his profession and labelling him a psychiatrist.

“Fine.”

“You’ve suffered a trau-“

“I’m aware. I was there. I saw a paramedic violently hitting my cousin’s chest, I saw so much blood. I didn’t know there could be that much blood!” Lou snapped glaring the man down, “I saw the brains of the idiot that caused the accident! You don’t know shit! Oh, your little degree magically has you able to understand what I’m going through?!”

“Lou-“

“You wanted me to talk! So, let me talk!” Lou screamed at the man startling you with the anger, “My cousin! My best friend, my SISTER is up in a bed in a coma! A coma because I wanted to go to a stupid resort to ski! It’s my fault! And no one will tell me anything about my aunt and uncle!”

You stumbled back at the pain Lou displayed, it broke your heart, and you couldn’t listen to it anymore.

“Lou, let’s talk about survivor’s gu-“

You fell through the closed door before you could hear anything more from the psychiatrist. You ambled around the floor aimlessly feeling the worst you ever had and to think for two weeks you hadn’t been aware of anything.

“Did you hear?” A nurse spoke from just outside your hospital room. You jogged over reading her name tag of Melissa.

“Heard what?”

“The father of the mountain accident he flatlined in surgery. Doctors got him back, but they’re concerned about brain damage.” Nurse Melissa told her fellow nurse with concern pinching her expression.

“That’s the father of the Y/L/N patient, right?” Nurse Lucy spoke glancing at your hospital door, “I hope they’ll be alright.”

“That poor girl has quite the decision to make. To live or to die. It’s all on her now.” Nurse Melissa replied, “Her mother died-“

“Little unprofessional to gossip about patients in earshot of everyone. Did you know that coma patients can often hear things while unconscious? Or my favourite tip…did you learn about HIPAA?” The doctor on duty asked, staring the two nurses down with a glared. Each nurse shifted on their feet, “Stop gossiping and do your job. I’m sure you can change bedpans or give sponge baths.”

The nurses scattered, leaving you standing in shock at the information given to you. Your mother was dead, your father could be brain dead, and Lou wasn’t coping well. Leaving you in a state of wondering what to do. Should you stay in a world without your parents or let go to join them in heaven. The thought had you collapsing into screams on the floor as everyone went about their work; walking through the hysterical teenager.

A warm hand slid into your own with a comforting squeeze, but all you wanted was to feel your father wrap you in a bear hug. To listen to your mother’s laugh, move in the air with that beautiful musical sound. You want Lou to be okay.

Luke was quiet as he sat the floor, squeezing your hand every once in a while. You slumped into his arms, staring unfeeling at the door that separated your ghostly form from your physical one. Luke poofed you to the Molina garage right on the couch where he held you tight for god knows how long.

“She’s dead.” Your voice cracked tears rolling down your cheeks once more, “My mom is dead.”

“Sh.” Luke cooed pressing his lips against your temple as you curled further into his body. His heart broke for you as the gravity of the situation became crystal clear.

“Hi.” Luke’s eyes met the concerned ones of Julie Molina, a girl that would undoubtedly know how you felt. The thing that connected you being the loss of a mother figure, “I’m Julie.”

Your blank expression lifted to see a girl you had often seen in the halls of Los Feliz High School and vaguely remembered her. She had been performing during the Spirit Rally months ago.

“I’m a friend of Luke, Reggie and Alex. I’m sorry you’re going through this, but you are more than welcome to stay here. You can be in my room or here if you’re more comfortable.” Julie offered knowing exactly how you felt when a year ago, she had been grieving the loss of her mom.

“Thank you.” You replied hoarsely. Exhaustion from sobbing closed your eyes, something that was different to Luke as a ghost was your ability to sleep. 

Alex theorized that you could sleep because your body was still alive, whereas the boys had no physical body. They were just ghosts. He and Reggie were in the studio sadly watching as you slipped in a deep unsettled sleep. Luke’s broken eyes met his best friends before he had Alex come over.

“Please stay with her.” Luke whispered, leaving the tall blonde to switch places. Luke disappeared without another word.

“Where’s-“Julie began, but Reggie interrupted her with a sad smile.

“Remember when we took you to Luke’s house? He’ll do the same but with her.” Reggie supplied coming to sit on the floor in front of the couch; his hand grabbing yours in support.

In a medium-sized house with a backyard kept tidy by the neighbours, Luke found his way to your room. His grabbed a few items of clothing and sneakers into a discarded bag before he dropped the bag off in Julie’s bedroom. His next stop was your hospital room. Luke settled himself in the chair beside you watching your chest go up and down from the breathing tube.

“Hi. I don’t know you in this form, but I know your spirit. I’m not good with my words, but I’m going to try. Two weeks ago I met you in a record store, and I fell in love faster than I can tune my guitar and believe me I have the record in the band. I never believed in love at first sight, but I also didn’t believe in ghosts, but here we are!” Luke chortled leaning to place his hand on yours, but it slipped through.

His smile saddened, “As much as I love holding you and kissing your head… I’d much prefer feeling that aching and yearning feel in my gut. If I felt that then it meant you would be alive and well. I’d rather be sad that I can’t feel you than have you die so young.”

Luke saw your eyelids flicker and he hoped it was because you could hear him.

“You have so much to live for. It’s gonna be hard. I can’t deny that, but I need you to stay. Stay alive and fight for me. For Lou.” Luke choked, squeezing his eyes shut grateful when a hand rested on his shoulder. He knew it was Alex.

“Whatever you’re saying. Continue.” Alex whispered, “It’s working, her body is slowly becoming transparent.”

Alex’s words were further proven as Nurse Melissa jogged in surprised as she took vitals, “Well I’ll be damned. You decided to fight.”

Alex and Luke shared a relieved expression as you got even more strong. Together they returned to the garage. Luke was able to press one kiss to your forehead before you flickered once, twice, thrice before you dissipated.

In that hospital room, a beautiful thing occurred. Your eyes opened. Luke swore the birds sang better at the moment.

Recovery was hard. Relearning the little things, you took for granted was frustrating. Lou would hover as if you would disappear and you thought you were going insane. If you were waking up screaming by nightmares of the crash than it was waking confused on dreams that felt like memories.

The small victories helped like when you walked the entire hospital or when you were able to use the toilet and not the bedpan. The best win was being discharged to Lou’s parents and only needing outpatient physical therapy. Six months later, your father was awake and getting better; the loss of your mother still burnt hot and red.

It was on the sixth month anniversary when you walked down an oddly familiar street. Merritt happily trotting on his afternoon walk; Merritt had been an immense help. In your first month of recovery post coma, you met Merritt who would become your service dog.

A sense of déjà vu nudged you as you took in a vintage styled record store you swore you knew before. Continuing on you stop again at a toy story with a dollhouse.

 “My cousin had one…for her unborn niece.” The sentence floated in your mind, but you couldn’t put a conversation.

 “Caspar?” A male voice recalled in a distant memory of a dream a few days ago. You couldn’t think of anyone who had that voice, and absolutely no way had you ever seen that dollhouse before.

“Just coincidence.” You mumbled scratching Merritt’s head as his wet nose nudged your head before you could worry more. You watched people roaming thankful that you could do that, that you survived.

It was the building on the very end that confused you the most. Your eyes scanned the name proudly announcing itself as a tattoo parlour. A gasp left your lips as a vivid memory popped into your head with a boy that matched that voice you had thought of earlier.

“Luke. My name is Luke. Hey! I know this shop!” Luke beamed, stepping back to take in the storefront. In the twenty-five years since he last saw it, the blue faded into a teal, but the door was still the same as it always was.

“You have a tattoo?” You asked, scanning his arms bare in the cut off shirt he wore.You couldn’t see any ink on his skin. Luke couldn’t help the smirk on his faceat the blatant heated gaze.

“No.It was 1994. We just played our biggest gig at the time, and Bobby decided we should get tattoos.” Luke’s mouth twisted at the mention of his former friend, “Of course we were sixteen and Alex just about fainted in the shop. The guy took one look at Reggie and laughed at our fake IDs. Told us to come back in a few years.”

“So, you’re a ’90s kid.” You raised an eyebrow coming to a stop on the edge of the street, pressing the button to cross.

“Technically a ’70s kid. We died in ’95 a few hours before a life-changing gig.” The mood turned sombre as Luke thought back on that one night that life decided to raise both middle fingers at his dreams, “Death by a hot dog.”

You were so thankful for Merritt as he nestled up into a dog version of a hug as you felt the crippling anxiety. He was always there and knew about to help, support dogs don’t get enough credit.

When your eyes opened, it is like a dam broke and suddenly you remembered walking this street with three guys. The conversations and even the garage where one had held you in an incredibly vulnerable moment. Three ghosts that helped you when you needed it but didn’t know.

“Luke.” You breathed seeing a form shimmer in the sun as it flickered into a hazy form. Similar to how you did in the garage before going back to your body, he flashed three times. He solidified on the fourth with a great big grin.

“You can see me.” Luke cried, walking closer as he felt on top of the world when your eyes focused on him. He finally felt that yearning to meet your gaze fade away, “I missed you.”

You followed him to the Molina garage.

“I thought we’d never be able to talk again.” Luke sighed, reaching over, and he physically grabbed your hand, “I don’t know if I can touch you because of your former state or because of Julie.”

“Hm?” You questioned sitting cross legged on the bed.

“When I wasn’t watching over you, I was with Julie and the guys.” Luke went into detail about Caleb and the jolts, “We didn’t cross over because it’s not our unfinished business, but the stamps were destroyed when Julie hugged us. We’re sure that just like our instruments are connected to our souls that Julie did as well.”

Your hand brushed Luke’s cheek taking in the silky feeling of his skin, “I thought I was going crazy. I had these dreams of things I didn’t do in reality. My mind just wasn’t ready to remember the beauty of our connection.”

“This is an interesting little relationship you and I have.” Luke chuckled, thinking on how lucky he was to even know you, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You whispered gratefully to intertwine your fingers with Luke’s hand as well. It was like they were made for each regardless of the circumstances that brought you together, “I’m not ready for anything more than friendship, but I do strong feelings for you.”

“Being dead has an advantage. I can wait for eternity, and for you, I would. Just so you know, I have strong feelings for you as well.” Luke beamed scanning your face, taking in the blemishes from the crash. In the time you hadn’t been aware of him following coming out of the coma, he had become acquainted with your injuries.

When those little victories of weight-bearing, walking one step then two and finally that entire hallway Luke had been there unseen cheering you on. When you ‘graduated’ from the inpatient therapy Alex, Reggie and Luke had been there in silent support.

“Do what you need to do, and I’ll be right here for you.” Luke smiled gently, removing his guitar from the case, “Can I play something?”

You nodded in response as started strumming to a new song he had created in the last handful of months.

“It’s like a storm

 That cuts a path

 It’s breaks your will

 It feels like that

You think you’re lost

 But your not lost on your own

 You’re not alone

I will stand by you

 I will help you through

 When you’ve done all you can do

 If you can’t cope

 I will dry your eyes

 I will fight your fight

 I will hold you tight

 And I won’t let go

It hurts my heart

 To see you cry

 I know it’s dark

 This part of life

 Oh it finds us all (finds us all)

 And we’re too small

 To stop the rain

 Oh but when it rains

The song touched you so intimately as he sang the last few lines softly keeping eye contact with you.

“…Oh I’m gonna hold you

 And I won’t let go

 Won’t let you go

 No I won’t”

You pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek that flushed at the feel of your lips against his skin. His heart fluttered and knew that you were his soulmate and he truly hoped Julie could find someone that could love her like she deserves. Luke’s heart belonged to yours and yours alone and vice versa for you as well.

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[myhockeyworld87]

Ruined - Jamie Benn - Part 8

Word Count: 4,412

POV: Jamie

Warnings: Language, Angst

Recap: Things were going well for our high school sweethearts, that was until a backyard BBQ party. Our reader heard Caitlyn and Sara talking about her relationship with Jamie, and what she heard didn’t sit well. Let’s see if everything will be ruined or not?

Notes: So here we are the final chapter (though there will be an epilogue). Thank you guys so much for being patient with me on this one. I fully expet that this will not get any notes or reblogs but I seriously don’t care. I know that some of you really wanted to see how this story ended and I wanted to give you that. I loved this story from the start and I wasn’t just not going to end it. For those of you that are upset that I wrote this, please refrain from coming in my inbox at me, I’ve worked over 30 hours in 2 days and don’t need your hate this week. (Also if there are typos that’s why, my proofing suffered) At any rate, I hope those of you that do read it enjoy watching the pieces all fall together. As always Happy Reading!!! 

MASTERLIST

Sidenote: Also (Y/NN) = Your Nickname (Y/LN) = Your Last Name

"Hey Segs, have you seen (Y/N)?"

 Tyler cocked his head back before answering you. "Really? You're not attached to her side?" You didn't feel the need to respond and instead just gave him a death glare. Tyler just clasped your shoulder and drew you close to him. "Come on Chubbs, I'm just teasing, but you haven't let her out of your sight all night. It's kind of cute." You wanted to argue, but you might have kept her in your line of vision since the moment she got here, except when she was off with Jessi. Which is who you should be looking for since that's who (Y/N) had last been talking to.

 You tried to move out of Tyler's grasp to do just that, but the man continued on. "I mean it, man. I haven't seen you like this before. I'm really happy for you."

 "Thanks, Seggy." Most of your teammates felt the same way. They liked (Y/N), but then what was not to like. She was smart, funny, outgoing, and beautiful, and on top of that, she was a brilliant and talented doctor. Damn, you were lucky that she had given you another chance. There was no way you were going to screw this one up.

 "There she is," Tyler pointed out, bringing you out of your musings. "And there she goes." He added as (Y/N) literally headed out the front door. You were striding towards the door before you even had time to think about it. You tried to calm your racing heart, telling yourself that maybe she'd spilled something on her clothes and that she was going home to change, or that she'd suddenly remembered she'd left the curling iron on. The feeling in the pit of your stomach was saying something different though. Something felt off. It was the way she ran to the front door not making eye contact with a single person and how she shut the door, not a full-out slam, but definitely done with more force than necessary.

 "Hey Jamie, how about we…" you didn't even spare Caitlyn a second glance. You all but shoved her out of the way when she tried to step in front of the door. This time you were the one slamming it shut, letting her know that she was not welcome to follow you.

 "(Y/N)!" you screamed, as she was halfway in the neighbor's yard, yet she didn't turn around. "(Y/N)!" You were in an all-out run now, panic kicking in as she wasn't answering you back. By the time you reached her she was at her door ready to punch in the key code. "(Y/N) didn't you hear me?" You grabbed her upper arm, as you caught your breath.

 "Leave me alone, Jamie."

 It was at that moment that you were able to turn her to face you. Tears were rolling down her face. "Jesus, what's wrong?" You tried to hold her close to your chest, comfort her, but she wasn't having any of it, as she pulled free of your hold on her.

 "What's wrong?" She shouted indignantly. "What's wrong, is that I never want to see you again."

 Her words felt like a slap to your face, and you flinched back as if she had actually struck you. "I…I…," now was not the time to become tongue-tied. "What did I do? Tell me and I'll make it right. I swear it." You went to touch her, but she jumped back out of your reach, shrugging you off. You couldn't breathe. This couldn't be happening again. You wouldn't let it happen. "Talk to me (Y/N)."

 Arms crossed she stood there defiantly, her whole demeanor changing. Gone was the weeping woman from moments ago, as she seemed to turn her whole wrath on you. "I'm sick and tired of it, Jamie. Am I just some sort of game to you? Is that all I am? All I ever was?"

 "What are you talking about? Of course, you're not some game." Surely, she had to see how much she meant to you and how much none of this made sense at the moment. "If you'll just tell me what happened…"

 "Like you don't know. Your little playing dumb game isn't going to work this time." She shoved your chest hard, causing you to stumble back. "Now get off my property." (Y/N) took advantage of the moment, opening the door and whisking away inside. She was just about to slam it shut, and lock you out more than likely, when you pushed the heel of your hand hard against the door, stopping her. "I said leave me alone."

 You ignored her protests, shoving your way inside. "It's not going to work this time. I'm not leaving. I don't care if it takes days or weeks but I'm not giving up on us this time."

 A bitter scoff left her lips as she crossed the entryway and headed deeper into her home. You stalked her every move, following her to the kitchen. "You can drop the act you know. Now that I know everything there's no need to pretend."

 "I'm not pretending. I don't even know what the fuck we're talking about so how could I be." You could see the anger bubbling up inside her. What or who had made her question your feelings for her was beyond you, but one way or another you were going to get to the bottom of this. "Just tell me what happened?" You pleaded yet again. "Or I'll go back over to that house and question every damn person until I find out the truth."

 "The truth?" she laughingly mocked. "That's rich considering you've been lying to me."

 "What the hell have I lied about?" Your brain was working overtime going through every word that you'd said to her since bumping into her on the road that day. Sure, you'd maneuvered your way into being her guide around the arena but could you really consider that a lie? Then there was Jordie and Jessi's party, you'd used it to your advantage to see her again; it was a slight deception but harmless. You didn't think either of those things would cause her to be this angry with you. "Ok, so I begged Jordie to invite you to his house because I had to see you again (Y/N). I just wanted a chance to be with you again. I didn't think you'd be this upset about it."

 "You what?" You could see her processing your words, and it registered then that that wasn't the lie she spoke of. What else could it be? "So, Jordie and Jessi are in on it too? I thought she was my friend."

 You knew she spoke of her developing friendship with Jess and you didn't want her questioning that. "They only did it because they know how much I cared about you. How much I still do. How much I love you." You'd held back the words the past two days, knowing that she wasn't ready to hear them just yet. Now there was no reason. She needed to know how you felt. That your feelings for her had never gone away, not even one day in fourteen years.

 "Those words fall so easily off your lips. Do you even know what love is?" She spat the allegation at you and it stung like a thousand bees all descending on you at once.

 "How can you say that?" You walked closer to her, and she turned away. "I loved you all those years ago, just as I do now. I never stopped. Maybe back then I was stupid to realize how much our love meant to me, but I'm not young and naïve anymore. I know you're the only one for me and if you would just look at me right now, you would see that I'm telling you the truth." Gently, you touched her shoulder urging her to turn. She did. Her eyes raising to meet yours, both shining with tears and you prayed to God she would see the love you had for her there. "I love you, (Y/N). I always have and I always will."

 She sucked in a breath at your admission and you knew that somehow, someway deep down she saw the love you had for her. "I…I…" She pivoted then on her heel, walking away, catching herself on the kitchen island as she took deep gulps of air.

 Carefully, as if you were approaching a timid animal, for in essence (Y/N) was just as fragile, you made your way to her. You placed your hands on her shoulders, not asking her to turn to you, but needing to touch her and comfort her in any way you could. "It's ok if you don't love me. I can wait. I'll wait as long as you need. I'm not going anywhere."

 She bowed her head and you could hear her sniffle. It took everything in you to not gather her up in your arms, but you knew she'd only reject that right now. "I don't understand how you can say those things," she finally whispered. "I know you don't want me here."

 "Don't want you here? Who told you that?" She shrugged and this time you twirled her to face you. "Whoever told you that, lied. I would die without you here." The laugh she gave was hollow and you knew she didn't believe you. "I'm serious (Y/N). You live two houses from me and it's too far. I want to be with you every minute of every hour of the day."

 "But they said you were trying to get me fired."

 Your eyes grew round like saucers and now you were the one that had anger coursing through your veins. Who would say such a thing? Who would want to destroy your happiness like this? Though none of it mattered at the moment. The only thing that did was the woman in front of you. "(Y/N), I don't want you fired. That's the last thing I want. If I could I'd have you at every practice and every game; home and away." With a tilt of her chin, you raised her head up to look you in the eye once more. "You are a brilliant doctor and the Stars are lucky to have you. I'm lucky to have you." It was the first time since this all started that her lips turned up in a slight smile, before quickly going to a look of confusion.

 "But they said you went and talked to the owner about getting rid of me."

 You laughed. Probably not the best thing to do at the moment considering the scowl that crossed (Y/N)'s face. "The truth is, I did go talk to Tom, but not about getting you fired. I went to see if it was possible for you to come on the road with us as well." She shook her head in disbelief. "I told you (Y/N), I don't want to be without you. I'll call him right now and he can tell you that himself." You reached into your pocket to grab your phone to do just that, though she clasped your wrist to stop you.

 "No, it's ok Jame. I believe you." Silently you thanked God for this small favor. Maybe if she believed you about this, she would know you were telling the truth about everything else. (Y/N) started to pace around the kitchen, her mind working overtime again. "I know it was fourteen years ago, Jame, but it feels like it's happening all over again."

 It did feel that way. "So, let's not let history repeat itself. Let's work this out (Y/N)." She stopped in tracks, then gave a small nod.

 "Ok."

 "Maybe we should start at the beginning." She gave her agreement, but you clarified. "I think we need to go back fourteen years."

 "You think that will change anything?"

 You shrugged, not knowing if it would or not, but you thought it best that the two of you get everything out in the open. "Yes, no…I don't know. It's worth a try." It would hurt opening up old wounds but maybe talking about them would finally give her a chance to heal and in turn, give you both a chance at happiness.

 You blew out a frustrated breath before starting. "I know it was wrong to talk about what happened between us with Jordie. I should've just kept it between us."

 (Y/N) closed her eyes and you could see the pain of what had happened written all over her face. "What did you say to him?"

 "Nothing like what was going around the school; I swear it." You could see she didn't believe you. Given what was said, you could see why. "Look all I told Jamie was that it was the most amazing night of my life and…" you started to blush at reveling this next part. "And I thanked him for the couple of tips he gave me." There was a smirk on her face at your admission and you could see that she wanted to ask what they were but she also knew now was not the time to get into it. "I didn't realize that Connor was in the locker room and overheard everything."

 "Conner Barnhart? You mean Alyssa's brother?"

 "Yeah," It was still hard to believe that (Y/N)'s brother, Justin, had married Alyssa for you remembered how much of a menace she'd been to not only (Y/N) but yourself. Alyssa had tried, on more than one occasion, after you and (Y/N) broke up, to go out with you, though you'd refused her at every turn.

 "So, let me get this straight. You told Connor that you only dated me because I was easy? Did you think that would keep him quiet or something?"

 "I never said that, to him or anyone."

 "But then…who did?" You'd like to know the answer to that as well.

 "I'm not sure. I threw Connor up against the lockers and threatened to beat the shit out of him if he told anyone. Which is how I ended up suspended for the next three days." You can still remember how pissed your parents had been when they found out.

 "I thought you were sick?"

 You ran your hands through your hair as you remembered the look of disappointment on your parent's faces when they were called to the principal's office. "That's what we told everyone. The principal agreed not to have it on my formal record so that it didn't hurt my chances to get into college. At the time I thought I'd be playing hockey at some university and having a black mark on my transcript might hurt those chances. So, they agreed to keep me out of school for three days. Hence, my mom not letting me talk to you when you called." It had been the longest three days of your life back then. If you only knew back then that those three days would lead to fourteen years without (Y/N), you would've done things differently. "I wrote it all in that letter to you."

 "But I ripped it up and threw it away." You nodded. It had been that moment that you knew you had no hope of getting back together with her and had given up. "So, let me get this straight. The only thing Connor ever knew was that we had sex."

 "And that it was amazing." It probably didn't need to be said, but you were trying to get on her good side after rehashing all these old memories.

 "It was," she admitted and you wanted to add that it still was, but again the timing seemed off. "He had to have made up the rest, but why would he do that?"

 "I'm wondering that myself. He didn't have anything to gain that's for sure. Though I couldn't follow through with my threat after being suspended." Though you wanted to, more than anything. If the little shithead had played hockey, instead of soccer you would've checked him so hard into the boards, that he wouldn't be playing for a least a week. It would've been worth the five-minute penalty.

 "Someone obviously wanted to break us up, just the same as tonight."

 "(Y/N), Who said I wanted you fired and all the rest of that shit?"

 It was her turn to blush this time, though, for the life of you, you couldn't figure out why. "I overheard someone say it."

 You could care less about her eavesdropping, that didn't matter. "Who said it?"

 "Caitlyn and Sara." Red hot anger coursed through you, at the thought of these two girls making up lies to tear you and (Y/N) apart. The scary thing was it had almost worked. You wanted to march back over there only to throw them out of your house, but you could deal with them later. Right now, the only woman that mattered was the one in front of you, who looked as though she was ashamed to have believed them in the first place. "I'm sorry Jamie. I should've never believed a word they said. I was just too blind to see that they were lying."

 This time when you took her in your arms she came easily. It felt so good to just hold her again. "It's ok," you told her in a soft soothing voice while you dropped a kiss on her head. "Given our past, I can see why you were skeptical. I just hope that you can trust me going forward."

 She looked up into your eyes. "I do Jamie. I trust you. I should've trusted you fourteen years ago. I was stupid to think that you would say all those things after what we had shared that night. It's my fault we weren't together all this time."

 "You weren't stupid. I should've been more aware of where I was and waited to talk to Jordie at home in private. I'm just as much to blame for what happened. I just don't understand why people want to break us apart when we're meant to be together." You leaned down and dropped a kiss to her lips. It was soft and tender, reminiscent of all those years ago when you'd first kissed her. You wanted to kiss her like this every day from now until the end of time but she pulled back from it, too quick for your liking.

 "I think I know who started those rumors back in high school."

 "Who?"

 "I need to make a call to see if I'm right." She searched her pockets then the house, looking you assumed for her cell phone. "Shit, I left it in your bedroom."

 You took her hand and started for the door. "Let's go."

 "No, wait. Everyone is still there and I probably look a mess, just give me five minutes to freshen up." She headed for the stairs and you followed.

 "I'm not letting you out of my sight." She laughed, the sound one of the best things you'd ever heard.

 It took a little longer than the five minutes she'd anticipated as you showered her with kisses every so often, but soon you were headed across the lawn and back to your house. When you saw both Sara and Caitlyn as you walked through the front door, you stopped. It took every ounce of willpower in your body to not say anything to them. Instead, you clasped (Y/N)'s hand and spun her body into yours, before stealing her breath away in a searing kiss. You heard a few cheers from your teammates as you kissed her passionately, and you were pretty sure you heard Caitlyn stomp her feet before slamming your front door shut. Good riddance.

 Once you were tucked away in your bedroom, the party still going on downstairs, (Y/N) grabbed her phone to make the call she spoke about. "Hey Justin," she said to her brother. "Is Alyssa there?" He must have replied yes then went off to find her. It was then that (Y/N) put the call on speaker.

 "Hey (Y/N), what's up?"

 "This might sound stupid, Alyssa, but I have to ask you something. Please be honest with me."

 "Ok."

 "Back in high school did you start that rumor about Jamie only sleeping with me because I was easy?" You started to put the pieces together as you waited for Alyssa to answer.

 There was a long pause on the other end before she said anything. "I'm so sorry (Y/N). I was young and stupid…and…god can you ever forgive me?"

 You looked at (Y/N), who looked back at you. It would be her call to forgive her sister-in-law, not yours. "What's done is done," (Y/N) finally told her. "We can't change it, but why did you do it?"

 "I…I wanted Jamie." You had already figured that part out and you were pretty sure (Y/N) had as well. "So, when Connor told me what he overheard in the locker room, I started the rumor. I thought if I could break you two up, that he'd want to date me. Obviously, that backfired. I'm just so sorry I hurt you both in the process."

 "We all make dumb mistakes Alyssa. I just wish you would've told me sooner."

 "I know. I should've said something back then or at least when I got together with Justin, but I didn't want you to hate me. Say you don't hate me, please." You could tell Alyssa was crying in the background. She was going to have a lot of explaining to do to Justin as well.

 "I don't hate you." (Y/N) told her. Part of you wanted to hate Alyssa for destroying what you had with (Y/N), but then it was so long ago and what you had now with her was so much better. "But I can't forgive you right now either. It's going to take time."

 "I understand," Alyssa sobbed into the phone. "For what it's worth I am truly sorry."

 "I know, and thank you for telling me the truth now. We'll talk soon." With that (Y/N) hung up the phone.

 "I'm sorry, (Y/N)," you offered by way of apology for everything that she'd gone through tonight.

 "Oh Jame," she said, grabbing your hands in hers in the process. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I should be apologizing to you. I should've known that you wouldn't have said those things about me then or even now. Instead, I doubted us." She took both your hands in hers, then looked you straight in the eye. "Can you ever forgive me?"

 "There's nothing to forgive. I told you before, I'm as much to blame. It's in the past and I'd rather concentrate on our future." Taking your joined hands, you brought hers to your lips and tenderly kissed them, hoping and praying that she wanted a future with you as well.

 "I'd like that too, Jame." Cupping her face, you brought her lips to yours. Downstairs, the party continued on as you could hear music and people chattering in the background, yet ensconced here in your bedroom, it felt as though you were the only two that existed in this world. You weren't sure how long the two of you stayed like that, mouths just fused together, loving one another.

 "We should probably go back down," you suggested even though you wanted nothing more than to simply lay (Y/N) on your bed and make love to her until neither of you could see straight. She nodded and you both got up off the bed from where you had been sitting, though you couldn't resist kissing her one more time.

 “We should probably go back down,” you suggested even though you wanted nothing more than to simply lay (Y/N) on your bed and make love to her until neither of you could see straight. She nodded and you both got up off the bed from where you had been sitting. Taking her hand, you entwined your fingers with her then headed to the door. (Y/N) stopped though and tugged you back towards her.

 “Before we go down there, there’s just one more thing I have to say.” You took a deep breath, still half afraid that she was going to run and never come back this time. “You said something earlier, that I can’t get out of my head.” You tried to replay the events of the last hour over in your head but so many things were said you couldn’t be sure what she was referring to, and so you furrowed your brow in question. “You said you never stopped loving me.” It was true. If someone would’ve said that to you years ago, you would’ve laughed at them and shrugged off their comments, but the moment (Y/N) walked back into your life, you knew that she was your first and only love. You went to tell her that but she continued. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I never stopped loving you either.” A grin that would stretch across the Grand Canyon took over your face and your arms wrapped around her waist to pull her close. “I pushed so many others out of my life and I’m only realizing now, that it’s because they weren’t you. I tried to close off my heart to you when I ran into that first day in Dallas, but you managed to burst through and not give up on us, and I’m so thankful you didn’t. I know I said before that I wanted to try to give us a shot, but there’s no one else in this world for me. I love you with my whole heart and soul, Jamie Benn.”

 Your heart was pounding so hard, you thought it would beat right out of its chest, but then that would be fine because you knew that (Y/N) would be right there to catch it. “I love you too (Y/N), with all that I am and so much more.” Your mouth came down on hers and though you’d kissed a thousand times before, this was one special. It spoke not only of love but of pain, of sorrow but joy, of all things that had been and all that would come tomorrow, for your future was here with her and there was no place else that you’d rather be.  

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || Accidental Idol Pregnancy [Request]

Seokjin:

One night. It was one night and you were going to have to face the consequences about it for the rest of your life, you stared down at the stick in your hands and wanted to scream at yourself. Your manager had pointed out that she thought you were gaining a little weight, and you were always wondering why you started to feel sick every morning and your boobs were sore so you took a test just to be sure.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You whispered rolling the test up in tissue and putting it into the bin, you sat down on the toilet seat and let the information sink in that you were pregnant with Jin's baby. You'd been together for four years but neither of you was ready for kids, you were both Idols but your career was only just started to take off and your manager had rules about you dating Jin, the number one rule being no babies.

"Babe, you okay?" You almost jumped out of your skin, you flushed the toilet and came out to greet Jin with a smile, hugging him and looking at what he was cooking in the kitchen,

"I'm fine baby, what smells so good?" You questioned, he smirked kissing the top of your head and walking further into the kitchen with you to show you what he'd been working on,

"I made us some stew, and then I made-" He stopped as soon as you ran off into the bathroom to throw up, the smell of beef hitting you too soon and making you want to vomit.

(X)

"We should get you to a doctor," Jin said as you emerged from the bathroom, you shook your head sitting down on a kitchen chair and taking a glass of water he was holding out for you,

"I know what's wrong with me, and I don't need a doctor." You knew you had to tell him, you told each other everything and you knew hiding something like this from him would be bad news.

"What's wrong? Do you have a bug?" He sat down in front of you and you took his hands in yours, trying not to tear up but doing it anyway, you cursed yourself.

"I didn't want to cry, fuck." You whispered rubbing your face on your shoulder and looking up to look him in the eyes, his face was full of concern, worry and sadness, your eyebrows knotted together. The news was either going to ruin his life or make his life better, you'd had conversations about kids before, you both wanted them but you didn't know if it was soon or if it was so far into the future that you didn't need to think about it right now.

"What is it?" He whispered trying to reassure you that he could handle the news, you swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat and turned to look at him, taking a deep breath,

"I'm pregnant." He stared at you blankly for a couple of seconds, it was hard to read him at the best of times but now he was completely blank and you had no idea if he'd heard you or if he heard you and was planning his nearest escape route.

"Jin?" You questioned, his hands slipped from yours and he stood up from the chair, turning to face the wall. You let the tears go and stood up,

"How? When?" He questioned turning to look at you, his expression still unreadable,

"You plus me equals baby...And I think it was when we had that one night without protection...We were just too heated that night to even think about it." You whispered playing with the chair, he stayed on his side of the kitchen and you cleared your throat before speaking again,

"I'll leave. I'll move away and I'll make sure the company hides me away, no one will know and it won't ruin your career, It'll be like I never dated you I promise and you don't have to be apart of their life if you don't want to be." You ranted on but Jin came over to you and grabbed your arms, kissing you on the lips to stop you from talking, you relaxed against his touch and he smiled, pulling away from you and pushing the hair from your face as he stared down into your eyes.

"We're ready for this, sure it's sooner than expected but we're going to be parents." He was smiling now and you felt as though a giant weight had been lifted from your chest, you were engulfed in a giant hug and he chuckled making you shake a little.

"We're going to be parents!" He repeated pulling away from you and going to look for his phone, probably to tell the boys what was going on and you knew you had to call you manager and tell her the news as well, but you were just so relieved that Jin was happy about it too which meant you could finally relax and be happy about it.

Yoongi:

You didn't know what to do when the test came back positive, you were freaking out over every small detail, wondering if you could even have a baby while you were an Idol, if the company you worked for was going to drop you as soon as they found out that you were with child. Yoongi was asleep next to you in the bed and you slowly got out, wanting to leave him to his break, you'd text Jin asking to meet him to talk about something serious, he was one of your best friends before you started dating Yoongi and you knew he would know what to do in the situation.  

"Where are you going?" Yoongi grumbled when he shifted over and you weren't laying next to him, you looked at him and smiled even half asleep he looks amazing.

"I'm just going to see Jin, stay here." You whispered leaning over the bed and kissing him on the nose, he chuckled and rolled back over, pulling the covers over his head and going back to sleep. You walked out of the bedroom and grabbed your car keys, going to meet Jin at the BigHit building, the only place you could have a decent private conversation without someone overhearing you both.

(X)

You were sat in a board room across from one another, he'd brought you a cup of tea and some biscuits to eat with them and you thanked him, bringing your knees up into your chest on the chair and staring at him.

"So what's wrong? You normally sit like that when something is on your mind," You shifted a little and looked out of the window at the city, before glancing back at Jin who was starting to look worried for you.

"Hypothetically speaking," You started, leaning onto the table and looking him in the eyes, he leant forward as well.

"If an idol was pregnant, and wasn't married to the father what would happen to said idol?" You questioned trying to make it seem as though it wasn't you, but clearly failing.

"Well, hypothetically speaking the idol would have to go through her contract and see if there was a clause about it." He said to you, taking hold of your hand from across the table and squeezing.

"How far along are you?" You stared down at the table and let a couple of tears go.

"Three months...I didn't know until I was two months in and then I hid it because I was scared of what Yoongi would think and then what my boss would think." Jin was out of the chair and pulling you into his arms within seconds and you cried into his chest as he rubbed your head.

"Have you and Yoongi ever talked about kids?" You shook your head and took the tissue he was holding out for you and wiping your face with it.

"You have to tell him sooner or later, you can't wait until you're giving birth and just drop it on him." You knew that of course you did but it didn't make the situation any easier.

"I don't know how Jin...Will he be excited about it? Mad?" He sighed taking hold of your hand again and looking at you in the eyes.

"He's Yoongi, unpredictable but you of all people know him best." You nodded, you had been together for six years so you did know him the best but it didn't mean you knew how he was going to react about the whole thing but lucky for you, you didn't need to tell him about the pregnancy, he burst through the door and you jumped up from the chair, he said nothing but just rushed to your side, wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

"Yoongi?" You stuttered looking over his shoulder Jin who was smiling, you hugged Yoongi back and he pulled away with a giant smile on his face.

"You're sure you're pregnant?" You nodded and he placed his hand on your small unnoticeable bump under the baggy clothes and smiled, you didn't expect him to be this excited but you loved it all the same.

"Parents, us." He chuckled looking up at you, he could tell you were still worried and he sat you down on the chair.

"We'll bring your contract out and we'll go through it later, make sure there isn't a clause that will let them fire you and if there is we will figure this out together, no one will let your talent go to waste, I promise." He kissed your cheek and you nodded in agreement, starting to feel better about the whole thing and Jin smiled at you both.

"I'll let you guys talk it through." He got up and you reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze and smiling up at him.

"Thank you, Jin." He smiled and let go of your hand, leaving the room and letting you and Yoongi talk everything over.

Hoseok:

"Hobi I'm so fat." You complained looking at yourself in the mirror and groaning, he sighed coming over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, leaving kisses on your neck as he shook his head.

"You are not." You grumbled something back at him about your jeans not fitting you anymore and then he sighed,

"If you really think you're fat, which you're not, we can go on a diet together...Start working out together?" You nodded in agreement, it sounded like a good plan to do together. You were an idol, you couldn't risk gaining weight and having your bosses comment on it, it was one of the rules that you had to look a certain way, everyone knew that

"Sounds good to me Hobi,"

(X)

That was a month ago and you finally know why you were gaining weight so quickly, you were pregnant but you hadn't told Hoseok yet. You wanted to tell him but you didn't know how to, so you continued to work out and diet with him but when he wasn't around or was in bed you would sneak to the snack cupboard and eat the cookies that were in the jar. You'd been craving them a lot since the pregnancy. You figured if you ignored the pregnancy long enough you could pretend it wasn't really for a little while longer, you were scared about losing your job and scared about losing Hoseok if you came out as pregnant, you'd already spent a lot of time crying over it, scared that this could ruin your life or Hoseok's life but you were also excited to bring another human into the world.

Hoseok was at the studios again and you were sat on the sofa watching a new drama you found, you had the cookie jar in your hands as you ate from it, eyes not moving from the screen. The door opened and Hoseok walked in, you didn't have the effort to hide the cookies and you didn't want to lie anymore.

"Diet." He reminded you taking the jar away from you but you snatched it back, going back to your drama and eating.

"I'm pregnant, I can do what I want." You said blankly, not concentrating on Hobi's reaction if you did you would have seen him laughing and shaking his head.

"That's a good one," He said thinking you were joking and taking the jar away from you, going to place it on top of the fridge where you couldn't reach it.

"Hobi!" You pouted following him into the kitchen, he stared at you with an eyebrow raised and arms folded over his chest.

"I thought you didn't want to gain weight." You rolled your eyes, taking his hand in yours and walking him upstairs towards the main bathroom, you sat him on the bathtub edge and went through the cupboard looking for the tests you'd been saving, you found them and slid them over to him in the box they were sitting. All 12 of them sitting there and staring up at him with the words 'Positive' or 'pregnant' written across them, some with a smiley face and others with a plus sign.

"I wanted to be positive I was." You said to him, reaching back through the cupboard and pulling out the hidden stash of chocolate bars and bit into one of them, Hoseok was still staring at the tests in shock while you snacked out in front of him.

"I have a scan soon...I was going to tell you but I was scared." You whispered finishing off the chocolate bar, Hoseok looked up at you and dropped to his knees, kissing your lips and cheeks before placing his hand on the small bump.

"We created another human." He chuckled kissing your lips again and smiling at you brightly, all the worries you had before were out of your mind and you felt more relaxed now that you had told him about the baby.

Namjoon:

As soon as you knew you panicked over the test, you threw it into the bin and hid it under a bunch of other rubbish as soon as you heard the front door of the dorm's opening, you didn't have time to hide that one properly like you had the others, you came out of the dorms bathroom and hugging Jungkook as he came home from the studios wrapping his arms around you as a greeting. It had become a tradition that when he came home he walked over to you and hugged you first, it was to tease Namjoon at first but now it was a habit of you both.

"How was your day?" You questioned as Namjoon came over and replaced Jungkook, he smiled picking you up and spinning you around in the air, making you giggle a little as he did so.

"Amazing! How was yours?" He questioned putting you down on the floor and kissing your nose,

"Brilliant," You lied. You'd taken three weeks off work to get some writing done but you'd spent those three weeks throwing up and taking multiple tests, one after the other to make sure you were actually pregnant and not just sick, you hadn't told anyone about it. Not even your manager who was going to have to know sooner or later, you knew you couldn't hide it from everyone forever but you could keep it a secret for a little while, or just until you figured out what to do with it.

"I'll start dinner soon." You said with a smile looking over his shoulder at Jin who walked in with bags of food that you asked him to get for you, Jungkook walked off down the hallway and you walked over to Jin, smiling and asking him how his day had gone.

(X)

Dinner was finished, the dishes were done and now all the boys were crashed on the sofa watching some movie. Jungkook had been on edge all night and as soon as you locked eyes with him he nodded over to the kitchen, you got up from the sofa leaving Namjoon on his own.

"What's up?" You questioned, he took something from his pocket and laid it on the dinner table, you frowned opening the tissue it was wrapped around and wanted to scream.

"Why are you going through the rubbish?" You whispered staring at it and then up to Jungkook who was staring at you with a raised eyebrow.

"I tripped over the bin and it fell out...Have you told him?" You shook your head and looked at the floor, you didn't know how to tell anyone.

"This is a good thing right?" He questioned you, you looked up with a sad smile. You saw it as a brilliant thing, Namjoon was going to be a terrific father but what about both of your lives, you didn't mind quitting being an idol and looking after your child but you wanted Namjoon to stay doing what he loved, you didn't want him to give it all up for you. Both you and Jungkook were so lost in thought you hadn't heard the kitchen door open and Namjoon walk in, his eyes went to the table.

"Is that a pregnancy test?" Your eyes shot up to meet Namjoon who had a giant smile across his face as he saw the test that said positive on the front of it, you looked down at the test and then back up to him.

"You're not scared?" You questioned, he just stepped closer to you and bent down to kiss you, wrapping his arms around your waist and smiling brightly.

"Excited and scared...Mostly excited, hey! At least those booties I bought will go to good use now." He chuckled bending down and kissing you again, all thoughts of worry were gone for now. You could worry about the details later, right now you wanted to spend time with the man who would be the father of your child and celebrate with his friends. Jungkook smirked, going into the living room and screaming it out that he was the first to know which made him the first godfather, you and Namjoon giggled to one another.

"You're going to be an amazing dad." You whispered to him, running your hand through his hair, he chuckled and kissed your nose.

"And you're going to be a fantastic mother."

Jimin:

"Jimin! Can you get me my chapstick?!" You yelled from downstairs, he shouted back a yes and he walked into your shared bedroom, looking one the bedside table and not seeing it, he frowned walking over to the drawer and trying to open it but it was locked, weird, you never locked the drawer. He took the key out from under the pumpkin candle holder you owned and unlocked the drawer, it was a stupid hiding place but he wasn't going to tell you he knew where it was because you would move it, he reached through the drawer and spotted the chapstick, taking it out and knocking over some pens, he moved them back into place and then saw a white and blue stick, he frowned. Taking it out from the drawer he read the front of it, and then found another one. He dropped them onto the desk and walked down the stairs, handing you your chapstick and giving you an excuse to leave the house.

"I told Joonie I would help him with something." The front door slammed before you could question him and you went back to folding the laundry. You went up the stairs to put the clean clothes away when you noticed the drawer to your desk open, you walked further into the room dropping the clothes onto the bed and going to look at the desk, you could have sworn you locked it but you must not have. It wasn't until you got to the drawer that you noticed the pregnancy tests were on top of the desk and not in their hiding spot, Jimin...Shit! You rushed down the stairs again to find your phone and called his phone but he was either ignoring you or didn't hear his phone ringing so you called Hoseok.

"He knows...Can you call him? I don't know where he is, he found the tests and now I'm freaking out Hobi." You panicked down the phone, you hadn't told Jimin you were pregnant because you were trying not to freak about it yourself, you told your manager and she told you she would get back to you because your contract had a clear clause in it that if you fell pregnant your contract would be terminated and you wouldn't be able to work for that company anymore and she was going to do anything she could to work around it. You told Hoseok the moment you knew because he was like a brother to you, you could tell him anything and everything.

(X)

You were crying onto Hoseok's shoulder when the door opened, Jimin walked in followed by Namjoon, both of them staring at you and Hoseok.

"Jimin?" You whispered sitting up straight and staring at him, he walked into the living room and came to sit down next to you, taking your hand in his and smiling at you.

"Look I know it's scary but my manager is trying to figure out how I can still work and even if I can't, I have enough money saved so I will be okay...You don't have to be around if you don't want to, I totally understand if you don't want to be here...It was an accident." He shook his head at you and you shut up, Namjoon nodded at Hoseok for them to leave you both alone. Jimin had gone straight to him after finding out because he was the most mature and he knew he could trust his leader with everything, and wanted strong advice from him,

"I talked to Joonie. I didn't mean to run out...I was just scared but I didn't think about how scared you must be," You sniffled and nodded, scared was an understatement you were terrified about how this was going to affect everything now.

"It's a happy accident, we'll make it work. I promise." He whispered to you, taking hold of your face and kissing you, you relaxed against his grip and smiled a little. It felt good to have it out in the open to him that you were pregnant, it meant you could stop hiding your midnight eating sessions and that you were going to go through everything together instead of being alone.

Taehyung:

You paced up and down in the women's bathroom in the hospital, you were supposed to be going to have a scan but once you got to the hospital you panicked realising that it was real. You had a baby growing inside of you and that you were here alone, you looked at your screen. You had to call Taehyung and ask him to meet you but you'd been hiding the pregnancy for the last 14 weeks. You hadn't even told your manager about the pregnancy, you just told her you had to take a couple of months away for a 'creative' break which she granted and you told your fans about, but it was getting harder to hide now. You'd snuck out of the house this morning, leaving a note telling Tae you'd gone for a jog but you were supposed to be getting a scan. You hit his caller ID and waited for him to pick up.

"Baby?" He questioned as he answered the phone, hearing his voice made you relax a little but not enough because where you were standing brought your reality back to you.

"Can you come to the hospital, I'm okay...I just need you here please...I'm on the first-floor women's bathroom." You said to him, he didn't question anything, he just told you he would be there soon and hung up the phone. It was what you loved about Taehyung, he wouldn't question anything, he would show up if you needed him and be there to hold your hand through everything, he always told you that no matter what it was, you would get through anything together. Like when there were rumours about you cheating on him with Hoseok after you'd been spending a lot of time together which of course it wasn't true but a lot of companies blew it out of the air and made it a bigger deal than it was.

(X)

"Are you going to tell me why we're here?" Tae questioned as you sat outside a nurses room waiting to be seen, you nodded and went to talk but the nurse called you over, you took his hand and squeezed it.

"I guess you'll find out now." You whispered, Tae was worried about you. When he came to the hospital and told you he was there you came out of the bathroom crying into your hands and walked with him towards a set of doctors offices, telling him nothing but crying into his shoulder, he wanted to know what was bothering you so much but he also knew if you were going to tell him you would tell him in your own time.

"Find what out now?" You sat on the doctor's bed and the nurse smiled at you, lifting your top up and applying the cream to your stomach, as soon as the machine came out Tae knew what was happening but he said nothing, he just took hold of your hand and stared at the screen with you as you waited for the first sign of your son or daughter on the screen.

"How long have you known?" He questioned after the nurse left to get the images of your child for you, you wiped the cream from your stomach and sat up.

"Since I missed my first period...I panicked Tae, I didn't know what to do and I figured I could hide it a little longer and pretend you were going to be happy about it when I told you." You whimpered but he took hold of your face and kissed your forehead.

"I'm more than happy about it...I would be ecstatic if I knew before now that you're carrying my child but I'm so happy." You smiled at him and the nurse came in carrying some photos and handing them to you, Tae smiled taking them and putting them into the bag you had with you.

"We'll figure this all out together... In the meantime, we need to start coming up with names." He chuckled causing you to laugh as you got down from the bed and headed out into the hospital, both of you calling out names to one another.

Jungkook:

You told Jungkook the moment you were late and the moment you realised your period wasn't going to come. He spent the week getting people to go out and buy you both tests on the down-low, he didn't want to get either of you caught buying pregnancy tests, setting off the rumours and having unwanted attention on you both. You were both young and knew that this was an accident, yet he was excited about it. He was excited about the thought of being a dad, having a son or daughter and being able to spend time with them and raise them, you were excited too but more worried about what it meant for your singing career and for Jungkook's, while Jungkook was planning the future nursery you were panicking about how it was all going to work with you both being idol's.

"It's time." He said as the alarm went off, you snapped from your daydream and looked at him. He'd woken you up early as he read that to get the best reading you should be awake right away and taking a test so that's what you did. He'd been doing a lot of research on it while you were busy worrying about how to deal with everything.

"Turn it over for me." You whispered looking at him and not the test, he spun it around and you couldn't read his facial expression so you stared down at the test, a plus sign.

"You're going to be a dad." You whispered to him as you took the test from his hand and looked at it, shaking it a little and then staring at the plus sign again.

"We're going to be parents!" You yelled, the excitement of being a mum overwashing the worrying thoughts now, Jungkook was smiling widely as he watched you finally getting excited about it, he was worried you weren't as happy about the thought of being a parent as he was but seeing you getting excited over the test he began to relax, but not too much because everything that needed to be doing crept into his mind, he was going to have to tell BigHit and then get the nursery stuff, then tell the tabloids. He was going through everything you had been going through before the test came back but once he felt you kissing him the thoughts all melted away and he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him.

"We're going to be parents." You giggled pulling away from the kiss and looking him in the eyes, you pushed his hair out of his face and then kissed his forehead.

"You'll be the best dad." You reminded him, you knew he was going to be worrying about it, you saw the look on his face was the same as yours when you realised you could have been pregnant and you wanted to reassure him that everything was going to be okay.

"I'll talk to my manager about everything...I'm sure I can take as much time as I need off to look after our baby...and you can still work, There is no way I'm letting you not work because of this one." You said putting your hand on your stomach but Jungkook was smiling while shaking his head at you.

"We'll take all the time off together to raise him or her...I'm not letting you raise them on their own." He promised you, kissing your lips and then walking out of the bathroom, he was going to have to find a way to tell the rest of the boys in a funny way, he didn't want it to just be a statement of 'We're having a baby' he wanted to prank them first.

"Parents!" You yelled coming out of the bathroom and jumping up and down.

"We're going to be parents!" You giggled, going into the kitchen to make you and Jungkook some breakfast, forgetting your worries for now and enjoying the moment.

tagline:

@yoongisdumplingcheeks​ @yourguessisasgoodasminemate​ @kpopfanfictionhoes​ @snowy-meowl​ @lynnthevirgo​

[stxrrywildflower]

saudade (2)

pairing - spencer reid x reader

summary - you arrive in los angeles, the team copes with your transfer

warning - cursing, mentions of case

series masterlist

the los angeles heat was the first thing you felt upon stepping out of the airport.

it was close to 70°, a huge difference from the cold and snowy january weather back in washington d.c.

a car was already waiting for you and would then take you to your new apartment complex. from pictures you had been sent, your apartment building was incredibly nice.

the complex was three stories and in a u-shape. in the center was a outdoor lounge are with chairs and a pool. to top it off, it was right on the beach. you didn’t know how the fbi had managed to rent this apartment for you as well as the rest of your team which were also living in the same building.

after being dropped off at the enterance, you walked in with your bags in hand. you walked in and stopped at the from desk. the receptionist greeted you with a warm smile.

“hello, i just moved here and should have an apartment under my name. i assume i need to speak to you first,” you greeted.

“may i see some identification?” the receptionist asked.

you fished your badge out of your pocket and handed it over. her eyes widened slightly at your identification before she went back to typing.

“ah agent y/n, you’re in room 40, it’s the last room on the third floor. once you go to the elevators and up to your floor, go down the right hallway, make a left and the end and then all the way down is your apartment,” the receptionist said as you were handed your keys and other forms you needed to fill out.

“thank you, by any chance do you know if anyone on my team has also checked in?” you asked, bouncing nervously on the balls of your feet. while you all were set to have dinner in your apartment that might, you figured that you needed to introduce yourself prior.

“let me see,” the receptionist started, “in the last hour clay bowen and josh benning have both checked in but they haven’t been down since. amelia green is actually just over there.” you turned to where the woman had motioned to the outside area. “are we all on the same floor?” you added. “suprisingly yes, the third floor expansion is fairly new. we were contacted just before the apartments went on sale and six of them were saved for you and your team. it’s pretty rare.”

with one final thank you, you grabbed your bags and slowly walked towards the outdoor area where a young woman was sitting, looking over files.

“amelia green?” you called, gaining the attention of her.

amelia glanced up, slightly confused. her facial expression changed when she took in your features. “you must be y/n y/l/n or our unit chief!” amelia exclaimed, jumping up the shake your hand.

on the plane ride over, you had read up on each of your team members. amelia was fresh out of the acadamy. she was top of her class in both academics and physical activities. she was an easy choice to join your team.

“that’s me,” you smiled, “have you met clay and josh yet?” amelia nodded to your question, “josh and i arrived at the same time. our apartments are a few doors down from each other. clay, however, got here after us so i haven’t met him yet. other than that, i haven’t heard or met the others.”

“alright, well we’re having dinner in my apartment tonight and i should probably unpack. i’m honestly thankful all of my stuff isn’t arriving for another couple days. it would just be too much. i’ll see you later,” you waved goodbye.

the ride up to the third floor was incredibly quick. you kept your badge pinned on your shirt incase you ran into another one of your new team members. however, you didn’t and instead stopped in front of your new apartment.

after sliding the key into the lock and twisting it, a satisfying click echoed through the quiet hallway. with a deep breath, you opened the door and stepped inside.

your eyes widened slightly at the apartment. it was incredibly nice. once walking in, on the right was a modern kitchen which bled into an open area with sliding glass doors. the doors opened to a deck with a view of the courtyard and the ocean. to the left was another open are which was most likely a dining room area. a half bath was just off of that. between the kitchen and the living room was a hallway.

down the hallway was a bedroom, the full bathroom, and another room which was most likely going to be turned into an office. other amenities, such as the laundry room, were on the base floor and was open to all residents.

just as you were about to begin unpacking your clothes in the drawers provided in the bedroom, your phone began ringing. you glanced down and upon seeing the caller i.d. as ‘strauss’ you answered right away.

“hello ma’am,” you greeted.

“hello agent y/n, i assume you’ve checked into your apartment already?” staruss asked.

despite knowing she couldn’t see it, you nodded. “i have ma’am. it is really nice. just a little empty without any furniture,” you replied.

“well that is understandable. i just wanted to call and make sure you have checked in. other than that, you are meeting your team at your apartment for dinner tonight and then tomorrow you all are going to your new office space before going shopping, correct?”

as you pulled out the paperwork from your carry-on bag, you spoke, “yes ma’am. i have the address down here and i have already met one member of my team. two more have checked in and the other two should be here soon.”

“perfect agent y/n, i wish you luck with your transition.”

you’re eyes furrowed in confusion. was strauss being sympathetic? nonetheless, you thanked her before hanging up the phone and continuing to unpack what little you could.

hours later, closer to seven pm, you placed an order at some local pizza restaurant as it was the easiest for your team dinner. you were sure that later all of the restaurant preferences would change.

the first one at your apartment was amelia, you greeted her with a bright smile as you two had already met. the next was abe, followed by audrey, then clay, and finally josh.

soon enough, everyone was gathered in the kitchen, each with drinks and food. then it hit you, “oh shit i don’t have anywhere for us to sit.” the team had laughed at that before josh suggested that you all just sit on the floor.

the six of you all circled up before audrey spoke up, “so should we get to know each other first? then we can exchange our numbers and everything and discuss our plan.” that went over well as you would all be working together and living at the same place for the forseable future.

from the conversation you had learned that amelia had just graduated from the academy, josh and audrey working in different branches up in new york city, and finally clay and abe were at quantico, just like you. you were honestly suprised that the three of you had never bumped into each other. there were pretty few similarities between all of you except for three things; your jobs, ages, and the location of your previous work spaces. personal details about the people they had left was also shared before all eyes were on you. “and our unit chief?” clay asked.

“well i’m going to start off by saying i have never been a unit chief before. never even dreamed of it,” you began, “i was transfered from quantico, more specifically aaron hotchner’s bau profiling team.” you noticed a few people’s eyes widened at your previous job status.

“i really loved my team there and thought i would honestly be with them for a long time. strauss called me into hotch’s office and told me i was being transferred and would be unit chief of the new west coast branch. however, my boss couldn’t fight it which i assume happened to all of you. but to sum it up, i pretty much left my team, practically my family, behind and my boyfriend too. i’m not sure if any of you have heard of doctor spencer reid but we’ve been together for almost a year. so, in conclusion, leaving home really sucks,” you finished.

sympathetic looks were mirrored back to you. “have you called them yet?” amelia spoke up. you shook your head, “i sent them a text letting them know i arrived safely but they all said that i should just settle in my first day and can call tomorrow.”

“well i, for one, am happy that if i am stuck in a new state with anyone that it’s you guys. as cliché as it is, i feel like we’re going to be a really good team,” abe called as he raised his glass. you all did the same, clicking your glasses together as a sign of a new start.

the rest of the night was filled with more getting to know each other, taking your first official team photo, and finally discussing the following day. josh somehow had a photo of the location of your office which looked almost like the one from the tv show psych. it was a building right off of the beach just five minutes from your apartment building. upon entering, there was a desk intented for security which then lead to the big open office space. it was going to be sick and everyone had already discussed turning it into a space with pictures and posters covering the walls.

the following morning, you were up fairly early as your body was just adjusting to the time difference. after making yourself a quick breakfast and drinking a cup of coffee, you made your way down to the lobby. half of your team was waiting, greeting you with bright smiles. josh, audrey, and abe all stumbled down a few minutes later.

“i think we know who isn’t a morning person,” clay joked.

the walk to the office, as previously stated, took only five or so minutes. when you entered, everyone gawked at the space. your voices echoed as you all made your way around the room, bouncing off of the high ceilings. before you could go to ikea to show for furniture, the space would need to be planned out.

the only thing provided for the team was desks and chairs. on one end, under the windows, was a slightly elevated level with two stairs leading up to it. that was going to be your area as you didn’t have an official office. your desk was moved up there as well as a chair. the rest of the desks were arranged in a with two groups of two pushed against each other and the final one was mirroring yours.

from there, the team headed to ikea to furniture shop. you had picked up lamps, stationary for your desks, further storage, two couches, shelves, and other necessary things for your office. after grabbing paint from some local story, the six of you went back and got to work.

meanwhile, on the east coast, monday morning finally rolled around.

upon walking in, everyone’s eyes unintentionally drifted over to your now empty desk. with j.j. back as an official profiler, strauss had decided to not give them a replacement.

the following cases for hotch’s team were difficult. not having your smart mind to help with clues was proving to be detrimental. the constant witty remarks you cracked were now gone, leaving an uncomfortable silence more oftentimes than none.

spencer took you leaving especially hard. you two had started a schedule, talking everyday for the first two weeks as you didn’t have any cases. however, you couldn’t expect him to be one hundred percent okah with loosing you.

it was a tough transition for all of you.

____

ten months went by.

your team had started working three weeks into your arrival in los angeles. your performance was nothing but great. strauss had called a few times and expressed her praise. crime rate in the city as well as california as a whole had dropped with your teams work. the newest model of fbi kevlar vests had even been shipped out as gifts.

for you and spencer, your relationship was still incredibly strong. however, calls between the two of you slowly lessened as you two became more and more busy with your jobs. nonetheless, you feelings had never faltered.

the office you all worked in became a better expression of your personalities as time went on. surfboards were hung on one of the walls for decoration and also practical reasons. plants, pictures, and posters scattered the walls. there was multiple whiteboards and bulletin boards with wheels in the space, allowing for details about any case to be hung up. your team also became best friends, going to concerts and the beach all the time.

once again, the team had a case. seven bodies were found in various spots in and outside of los angeles, each killed with the signature of past serial killers.

you stepped into the office, greeting your team. “y/n, we just got a call from the local p.d., they invited another team to the case. they’re already are on their way and should be here within the hour,” amelia informed you. as the words processed, you moved your hands to your hair. “they know they’re not supposed to do that without letting us know. what team is it?” you asked, looking though the case file.

“aaron hotchner’s,” amelia added.

your eyes went wide. while they were only invited to work a case, you realized that you would be seeing your former team for the first time in ten months. you would be seeing spencer for the first time in ten months.

the three boys snickered at your reaction. “oh and the medical examiner at the morgue is requesting to see you,” abe spoke up. a look of confusion washed over your face, “me in particular?” you asked. upon seeing various nods, you shrugged your shoulders.

“alright, clay and i will go meet with the m.e. amelia and abe head down to the police station. greet the team and let them know that we will be working out of our own office for the case. i’ll be here meet them. other than that, audrey and josh continue working on your assignments,” you ordered your team.

from there, everyone dispersed. you tossed clay the keys before getting in the passengers side of the car. a little bit later, amelia and abe exited the office to go meet the group.

at the police station, hotch walked in, his team right behind him. the fbi agent greeted the police chief before stepping back. “two of our resident fbi agents are waiting over there for your arrival,” the officer spoke, motioning in a different direction.

upon hearing this, amelia and abe turned around. the two agents stepped forward, shaking the hands of the other team. “our unit chief y/n is currently down at the morgue but will be back at our own office to greet you. the station here is set up if you choose to work here. other than that, our team will be operating out of our own office,” amelia spoke.

“if you don’t mind we would like to go to your office,” hotch responded before adding, “but first, reid and morgan go to the last dump sight.”

spencer let out a slight grunt at his orders. “look, we all know you want to see y/n but we need to work on this case. the faster you leave the faster you can meet us. if there’s no more protest, i think we’re ready to go,” hotch said.

abe nodded before motioning with her hand to follow them, “you can trail us. it shouldn’t take long to be there.” the two teams exiting the police station, piling into the suv’s and driving down the streets of los angeles. 

in the car, hotch had turned to his team while rossi drove. “due to this being the west coast branches case, we are currently under their authority. everything y/n says we have to listen too since she is heading the case,” he informed.

emily chuckled slightly, “never thought that we’d be taking orders from her.”

the office that greeted the washington d.c. bau team was not what they expected. it was very bright and fun, almost had the vibe of a shop rather than an office. you, however, were grabbing papers off of the printer and hanging them on the board.

“we’re back!” amelia’s voice called as she stepped into the office and went to her desk.

you finished pinning the photos and spun around just in time to see the four agents enter the room. you broke out in a grin, dropping the spare pins on whatever desk was closest. hotch was the first one who stepped forward, smiling as you hugged him tightly. you missed your friend and mentor greatly. rossi was next, greeting you with a “hey kiddo,” and also hugging you. j.j. and emily each broke out into a smile and embraced you.

as you stepped back, the team took in your appearance. you looked slightly different but still mostly the same. your hair was now longer and lighter due to the constant time spent in the sun. freckles also scattered on your cheeks. the main noticeable thing was a long scar spanning from the side of your forehead and going down to your jawline.

“woah what’s that?” j.j. exclaimed, reaching out to trace the scar. you didn’t mind, however.

“unimportant right now,” you simply said, wanting to change the topic. the rest of your team noticed your slight discomfort at the question. you grabbed a file off of the desk and handed it to hotch. “it’s really great to see you guys. this file has everything we’ve gathered.”

“these are agents benning, green, manning, blair, and bowen, also known as our resident cosmetologist,” you first introduced your team, “and these are agents hotchner, rossi, prentiss, and jareau.”

“oh my god they’re all so damn tall,” you heard j.j. whisper.

a sudden thought hit you. “hey where’s spencer and morgan?” you asked. “sent them to the crime scene, they should be arriving soon,” hotch informed, already moving to look at the board.

“so resident cosmetologist?,” emily questioned.

“you’d be surprised how often we have to go undercover. clay took a cosmetology course in college,” you responded. “hey what’s this?” another question was asked. you turned to see rossi and j.j. looking at a photo wall. “that’s our memory wall, we spend a lot of time in the office so we put any photos of the team, places we’ve been, or of each other up there. over there is our wall of people we helped. after one of our first cases, we were given a photo of the family we saved. it kinda became a thing that if the families were willing, they would give us a photo.”

you returned to your desk as abe followed. “what are your hours?” you sighed, “we work 9-7 on weekdays and then 10-1 on saturday’s. sunday’s are our days off.” no more questions were asked and the two teams got to work.

sometime later, just as you were leaning over audrey’s desk and looking at something on the computer, the outside door opened again. in strolled morgan, who had a wide grin on his face. “ hey pretty girl?” derek greeted you. you stood up and smiled as you were pulled into a hug. “nice to know the nickname hasn’t changed.”

“where’s my boy?” you asked.

you swore spencer was with morgan. “hey now, relax. he’s parking the car now. should be in any second.”

nervously, you tapped your fingers on your palm as audrey relayed some information to you though you weren’t quite retaining it. all you could think about that any moment, your boyfriend was going to be walking in the door. as soon as the door opened, your head snapped up.

“spencer?” you spoke quietly, looking towards the doorway where the man you hadn’t seen in ten months now stood.

[kim-bobbae]

24. “Just because.”

Requests are still open! Feel free to send in your requests...or anything really (it’s lonely out here TT)

“Jay won’t listen to us, can you come pick him up?” Gray spoke in a hushed voice.

“From? Isn’t he supposed to be home?” You asked, confused.

“He came into the office a little sick but it seems like it’s getting worse,” Gray explained. “We told him to go home and get some rest, but you know how he is when it comes to work…”

“Oh,” You replied, exhaling deeply. “Alright, I’ll see you guys in a bit then.”

You got there half an hour later, not surprised to see that the office was still bustling despite it being close to three in the morning. The guys were, more than anything, relieved the moment you entered – most of the time, you were the only one they could count on when it came to dragging their boss out of the office. Of course, they tried their best not to not wanting to disturb your rest knowing that your residency at the hospital was hectic enough as it was but seeing that they had called at such an ungodly hour, you figured that the situation must have been rather serious.

“Hey…” You greeted with a tired smile.

“Sorry to call you this late,” Gray said with a sheepish smile, casting you an apologetic look before giving you a massage whilst guiding you to the recording studio.

Lo and behold, Jay was hunched over the desk, coughing away whilst tapping his feet to the beat. Empty bottles of water lined the desk and sheets of paper with lyrics scribbled on were scattered everywhere and you couldn’t help but sigh as Jay spun around in his chair with half lidded eyes, face pale as sheet. 

“Alright who was it?” Jay asked, half joking before he swallowed nervously at how unamused you look.

“That’s not the point Jay…” You started, defending Gray who was about to speak. “If none of them called me I wouldn’t have known that you had spent your day coughing your guts out when really, you should be resting at home. You sound worse than when I last heard from you today.”

“I was working from home, but then I suddenly had all these ideas and I just had to come record it.”

You bit your lip, then took a seat on the couch across him and spoke in a tone of defeat, “So you done? Can we go home now?”

He ran his hand through his hair, taking a quick glance at the lyrics in front of him, “Fifteen minutes. Just let me wrap this up, okay?”

It wasn’t really a question though as he went right back to work, Gray leaving the room to give you guys some privacy – Jay was firm when it came to work and while it took you some getting used to in the initial stages of your relationship, you grew to respect that it was a line that you could not cross even if it meant that you were just really, genuinely concerned. Being a medical school student in your final year of residency made you feel even more helpless at times like these knowing that regardless of the number of patients you treated on a daily basis, your very own boyfriend’s workaholic nature left you powerless when it came to his health.

He kept to his word nevertheless, the both of you soon bidding the rest of the guys goodbye where Gray received a playful smack from Jay in the process as he whined about being kidnapped home while you literally pulled him by the shirt out of the office and into his car where you offered to drive seeing how he was in no condition to.

“Did you take any meds?”

“No…I didn’t know which one to take…” He croaked, slumping onto the couch as he rubbed his temples, the headache kicking in.

“You should have something in there for your throat…” You mumbled, walking towards the drawer by the kitchen counter which contents you had memorized by now.

You then took the packets of tablets out along with a glass of warm water and walked towards Jay.

“Eat these and take a shower,” You told him, hand on his forehead as you felt a fever coming. “Take it again tomorrow morning after breakfast if the fever persists. I don’t think your throat is going to get very much better overnight either.”

“Yes doctor,” He said with a small smile.

“And by breakfast, I mean like a proper breakfast, not just squeezed garlic,” You stated, side eyeing him to which he chuckled in response.

Some playful banter and a lot of babying later, he finally got round to showering but the sight that he was greeted with as he stepped out, towel over his head had him doing a double take – there you were, leaning against the kitchen counter whilst your hands busied themselves making rice balls at four in the morning.

“…what are you doing?” He asked as he walked towards you, staring at the food and then back at you.

“I was looking through your refrigerator and it looked like you ran out of cereal, fruits and yogurt and we both know you wouldn’t make yourself a proper breakfast with whatever else that’s left,” You said, shaking your head. “So, I thought I’d just make you a little something that you can have for breakfast tomorrow so you won’t have an excuse to not take your meds.”

For a while he just stared at you, unable to find the right words that would sufficiently express his gratitude. After all, you had a long day of work yourself and despite the fact that he had not taken your advice to rest at home, have been summoned by his employees after a grueling work shift at the hospital to take him home where he left you to wait while he wrapped up his work, drove him home and even prepared the medication, there you were still dressed in your scrub suit from work, hair in a messy bun and squinting through your glasses as weariness weighed on your eyelids whilst you tried your hardest to fix a meal with whatever leftovers you could find in his refrigerator just so he wouldn’t skip his breakfast and medication.

Guilt crept to him as he thought about you having to return back to work in twelve hours – had he really stayed home to rest, you would be home resting by now. 

“There was leftover rice, kimchi and tuna so…nothing too fancy,” You shrugged.

Then, he wordlessly walked up behind you, sliding his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulders, “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it,” You said, giving him a quick peck before turning your attention back to the food. “Let me know tomorrow if the medication doesn’t help and I’ll see what I can do, alright?”

“Thanks babe.”

Now Jay wasn’t a man of many words when it came to expressing his feelings, more so when it came to the sweet, romantic ones. It was just awkward for him – something that you got used to eventually – but you had no complains there as he often compensated with hugs and kisses in the privacy of your homes.

Thus, with the way he tightened his hold on you before pressing another kiss onto your cheek, you couldn’t help but let out a cheeky giggle, “And what was that for?”

“Oh y’know,” He smiled, then nuzzled your neck. “Just because.”

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

LOSE TO WIN.

Che “Taza” Romero x reader

Anon asked: Hey! Could you do a Taza x Reader, where he is kind of quiet around the reader after what happened to Riz and the reader somehow understand what he have done and she confronts him, but she says that she still loves him anyway?

Word Count: 2.4k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘

Author Comments: As I explained, this is kinda painful to me. I've never been so in love with a TV show, nor with a character as I am with Riz. This imagine is somewhat random, writed in first person as I think I would have lived it, more or less. So, take it as it's a piece of me and enjoy. Gif credit: @angels-reyes.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​ @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcro-jnt @jade770 @losolvidad0s @arved ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

I’ve held his hand, since the doctors said that we could see him. I was constantly sitting by the left side of the bed, with my fingers tangled with his. And every time it came somewhat cold, I grabbed it with mine to raised it so I could give it some warmth with my breath. The surgery was good, better than expected, but I was unable to leave him for a single second. I didn’t even notice who more was in the room with me, I was so focused and so obsessed controlling his breathing, that the time was something relative. And I’ll blame myself all my life for leaving him alone the moment he stopped fighting. Yes, Taza was with him, but I wasn’t. He stopped fighting when I was no longer there. It was just a minute. A hallway. I was falling asleep and I needed a coffee. When I came back, his soul was already gone and so did a piece of my heart. Che held me before I could even fall, after the doctors said his lungs had failed. Taza has always been my anchor, since I met him when I was almost twelve years old, but he couldn't even keep me from sinking.

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

I was sitting outside of the clubhouse in a picnic table. There was no noise more than some crickets grilling. I was wearing his kutte without believing that he wasn’t gonna appear with his bike, complaining about whatever shit he saw on the road, before hugging me as he used to do. Raising my eyes to the sky and having a sip of my beer, I couldn't help but thinking about the first time I saw him. It was nine years ago at Stockton, when my uncle decided to open a new Mayans’ subsidiary. The southern Cali at Santo Padre. Marcus made somewhat like a party to celebrate with the Sons of Anarchy and my father brought me there. I was sitting alone, just like I’m right now. I was almost twenty years old and I didn’t know half the shit I know now. Yes, I wasn’t stupid. The motorbikes, the guns, the travels. I didn’t need to be a genius to know what my family used to do. A mexican with short and black hair sat next to me, offering me a tequila shot to greet with him.

“Por la familia”. (For the family). He said before drinking his, so I did. “I’m Michael, but everyone calls me ‘Riz’”.

“Well, everyone calls me ‘shit, kid, you did it again?’

He laughed with some kind of naturality and purity that I’ve never heard it before. It was a warm and nearby laugh, as my father’s. I don’t even know how I can explain it. It something that you really need to hear to feel it as I did. He was my first friend, because he wanted, and not because he was scared of who my family was. Through the years he became my family too. We spent a lot of time together, doing everything or doing nothing. Not even our silences were uncomfortable, we enjoyed each other's company, without more. It’s been just one day and I kept looking my phone, waiting for a call or a text that woke me up of this nightmare. But the only thing that pushed me back to reality it was the crew’s motorbikes roaring full of rage. I practically jumped off of the table, throwing away the beer before my father could lead the march. The main door was closed and they were waiting for me to open it, standing there with my arms crossed on the chest.

“I’m going”. I was determined like never in my life and no one would change my mind.

“Open the door and stay here”. My father just said.

“I’m going”. In case he didn’t hear me, I repeated it.

“It’s a risk I’m not gonna take. Don’t argue with m—”.

“He lost a battle ‘cause ‘Los Vatos. And I’m gonna defend his honor at war!” I interrupted him, yelling at my father as I never did it before. I had too much contained inside me, squeezing my heart till make me cry blood tears. “You can’t… put me aside, dad. Not tonight”.

My father shook his head sighing and rubbing his face, after some seconds seeming thoughtful, before finally nodding. I looked at the rest of the faces, they agreed too. Riz was my family, and he will always be even if his body isn’t present. So I ran to his motorbike, taking off the keys from the chest’ pocket. I had ridden it before but that time, when I turned on the engine, was pretty different.

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

It’s been a month since the funeral and sometimes looks like nothing had changed. Nothing but the way Taza used to treat me. He became somewhat cold, he turned away from me. Maybe I was so focused in my pain, that I didn't see his. I tried hard to talk with him, wanting to know how he felt, but he never did it back. No answer at any question I made. And I was falling into a black hole, into a loop. I wasn't capable of getting up from bed some mornings and I needed him as never before. I really needed him. Taza was always by my side, at the bad and at the good. But now, he was like a ghost. Running away from me. It was like if another piece of my heart was breaking. Till I had the enough strength to stop it, when my father told me that Che was leaving the Mayans. I lost Riz. So losing him too wasn't an option.

I drove the road to the ranch by heart, in the cold darkness of the night. I was decided to bring him back by my side and I didn't care what it might cost me. I was, and I am, surrounded by people that loved me without any doubt but no one like him. He taught me many of the things I know today. He covered me every time I fucked up things. He picked me up every night I called him drunk, being afraid of going home so my father could see me in that kind of condition. He cleaned my tears and cheered my smiles. I took care of his wounds, of his doubts, of his fears. I took care of his house and his car. I took care of him whenever he was sick or lost. We were made for each other. Again, losing him it wasn't an option.

Turning off my motorbike and taking off the helmet to leave it over the leather seat, I walked straight to the front red door. The light outside, in the porch, was on so he was at home. I had a copy of the keys, but I didn't want to burden him. After knocking the door with the knuckles, I waited there for some long minutes. It was cold outside and I started to freeze, when I called again using the door-bell. I could hear his steps coming, stopping for some seconds on the other side. 

“Please, don' leave me”. I begged, knowing that he didn't want to let me in for some reason I couldn't understand, containing the tears that were claiming to fall down. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry for closing myself, for not talking to you at the beginning. I know I don' have any excuse, that I can't simply say ‘I did it with everyone’, 'cause you know you're not in that bag. You've been always the exception that proves the rule. And I love you, Che... You know that I do”.

It was the first time I said that. To him. I didn't say that to anyone that it wasn't my father, nor my uncle. But I really felt that shit. The same one that was taking away what little life I had left. When the door got opened, my heart jumped raising my eyes to the reddened ones. He look as bad as I was. I couldn't help but hugging him, surrounding him with my arms, while he was pushing me inside the house so he could close the door. I've never been a lot of affective, always respecting my own personal space. But with him was different. His arms around me were like a indestructible fortress, protecting me from the world and its evil. He was the air I needed to breathe whenever I felt I was drowning myself. And sometimes, this fact was a problem.

“This is my fault”. He whispered with his voice breaking somewhat more as he uttered each word.

“No, it wasn't, Che. It wasn't. They did wrong every thing they considered it was well done”. I tried to comfort him. I didn't know why he was blaming himself. Riz stopped his shots. Is what I have would done. And that wasn't his fault either.

“You don' understand… Riz is dead because of me”.

“No, it's not!” I was nervous, out of me, pulling him away so I could be able to support his cheeks between my hands. Seeing him cry like a heartbroken child was more painful that I could imagine, oppressing my chest as I was thinking that I never asked how he was.

“His lungs… His lungs didn't failed because of the shots, but because of me”.

My hands fell down, as my eyes got opened more than normally. Twisting my head like a dog does when he's confused, I walked a few steps back. Taza rested his body against the closest wall, crawling down till finding the floor with his knees curled to his chest. He was crying desperately, unable to look at me. Then I started to think about that night. No. It wasn't a coincidence that Riz and him were alone when he left us. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that that poisoned words were true. Everything was crumbling around me, breaking with the same facility as a wet paper does between my fingers. The tears was running through my cheeks with my gaze on nowhere.

“Los Vatos… That trash should disappear, after all the damage he made to… innocent people that only wanted to have a better life”. He sob cleaning his eyes with a forearm. “I knew that your father wouldn't do anythin', and I knew that Riz was suffering… The surgery went well, but… doctors said that maybe he never could get out of the coma… He was my friend too. My br—brother. What could I do?”

Even if I wanted to punch him till death, I couldn't help but see the sense of his words. I was feeling his pain, his grief, his misery. I was so stubborn trying to save Riz, that I forgot him. He was carrying it over his shoulders all this time. And, no. He hadn't any excuse. He killed Michael. He never gave the benefit of the doubt. And it was dolorous when I found myself being unable to hate him.

“How you feel is my fault... Because of me. Because I didn't think in Riz, neither in you. I couldn' look you in… the face. So I thought it could be easy pull you away. Leave Santo Padre and come back to Arizona. But I can't… Shit… I can't”. He turned towards me, with his head supported against the wall. “Tell me you love me again… please”.

The anxiety was consuming me like a thick liquid clotting my blood, flooding my throat, my lungs, my stomach. It was like I was dying slowly, because I still loved him. Knowing that he killed my best friend, I still loved him. Unconditionally. I walked next to him, even if my brain was not sending any command to my legs, nor my body in general. I knelt down. In front of him. And I kissed him. Feeling like Judas, betraying Riz, I kissed him. Taza wasn't expecting it, neither did I. It was confusing. Every inch of my skin bristling as his tears met mine on our dry lips. When he gave me some space between his legs, surrounding me with his arms, it was like I forgot how to kiss, how to breath, how to live. Again without being conscious, my hands went to his nape. I just wanted to feel him close to me, almost lying on him, falling apart because of his fault.

“Tell me you love me again”. He begged me hopeless with his hands on my neck, keeping my gaze with the same darkness in them.

Life isn't fair. When you're part of something like Mayans, yes, everything at the end is about family, but sometimes there are collateral damage that you, nor anyone can't avoid. And that was Riz became. Sometimes you have to lose to win. A part of myself, to end human trafficking. And even if I wanted to hate him with all my efforts, I couldn't. And that made me hate myself so much. But I was seeing why he did it. It was a payback that, sooner or later, had to happen. 

“I do”. I just said. “I love you, Che”.

His cry got louder with his forehead on mine when he heard me. I knew that he was suffering more than anyone around us and I had to save him, of one way or another, so that Riz wouldn't have died in vain.

“But you can't go”. I sat down between his legs, holding him as he was doing with his face sinked in my neck and one of my hands on his head. My fingers got tangled in his hair, pushing him somewhat closer. The agony was oppressing us, knowing that we should live with that secret anchored in our hearts. But, what else we could do? Keep fighting for a cause. “Stay with me. We have so much road to ride. Don' let Michael die for anything”.

“I'm so sorry”. He said with all the sincerity I could felt in him. 

“I know. But we're together, you hear me?”

[papermoonloveslucy]

LIZ HAS THE FLIMJABS

December 30, 1950

“Liz Has the Flimjabs” (aka “A Severe Case of Flimjabs”) is episode #112 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on December 30, 1950.

This was the 14th episode of the third season of MY FAVORITE HUSBAND. There were 31 new episodes, with the season ending on March 31, 1951.  

Synopsis ~  Liz wants a mink coat from George, so she pretends to be sick in order to get his sympathy - and the coat!  George is on to her tactics, and decides to give her the scare of her life - literally! 

Note: This program served as the basis for the “I Love Lucy” episode “Lucy Fakes Illness” (ILL S1;E16) filmed on December 18, 1951 and first aired on January 28, 1952.  The role of the Doctor was taken by Hal March, who was actually playing an actor friend of Ricky’s named Hal March pretending to be a doctor.  On television, Lucy also adopts a psychological illness in addition to her physical ailments. There was no mention of Christmas or New Years on the television show. 

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George’s boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benaderet was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Cooper. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

MAIN CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cooper) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. With Richard Denning, she starred in a radio program titled “My Favorite Husband” which eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cooper) was born Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father’s garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his  roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.” From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Bea Benadaret (Iris Atterbury) was considered the front-runner to be cast as Ethel Mertz but when “I Love Lucy” was ready to start production she was already playing a similar role on TV’s “The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show” so Vivian Vance was cast instead. On “I Love Lucy” she was cast as Lucy Ricardo’s spinster neighbor, Miss Lewis, in “Lucy Plays Cupid” (ILL S1;E15) in early 1952. Later, she was a success in her own show, “Petticoat Junction” as Shady Rest Hotel proprietress Kate Bradley. She starred in the series until her death in 1968.

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) was also later seen on “I Love Lucy.” She first played Mrs. Pomerantz, a member of the surprise investigating committee for the Society Matrons League in “Pioneer Women” (ILL S1;E25), as one of the member of the Wednesday Afternoon Fine Arts League in “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3), and also played a nurse when “Lucy Goes to the Hospital” (ILL S2;E16). She died in 1996 at the age of 96.

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

Gale Gordon (Rudolph Atterbury) does not appear in this episode.

GUEST CAST

Frank Nelson (Dr. Stevenson) was born on May 6, 1911 (three months before Lucille Ball) in Colorado Springs, Colorado. He started working as a radio announcer at the age of 15. He later appeared on such popular radio shows as “The Great Gildersleeve,” “Burns and Allen,” and “Fibber McGee & Molly”.  Aside from Lucille Ball, Nelson is perhaps most associated with Jack Benny and was a fifteen-year regular on his radio and television programs. His trademark was playing clerks and other working stiffs, suddenly turning to Benny with a drawn out “Yeeeeeeeeees?” Nelson appeared in 11 episodes of “I Love Lucy”, including three as quiz master Freddy Fillmore, and two as Ralph Ramsey, plus appearance on “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” - making him the only actor to play two different recurring roles on “I Love Lucy.” Nelson returned to the role of the frazzled Train Conductor for an episode of “The Lucy Show” in 1963. This marks his final appearance on a Lucille Ball sitcom.

The doctor’s surname may be a reference to noted costume designer Edward Stevenson, who designed gowns for Lucille Ball in more than a dozen RKO films and would eventually become costume designer of “I Love Lucy” after the departure of Elois Jenssen in 1955.

EPISODE

ANNOUNCER: “And now, let’s look in on the Coopers. It’s evening, and Liz and George are sitting in the living room admiring their Christmas tree."

George wonders if it is time to take the Christmas tree down but Liz doesn’t want to. They agree to put away their presents instead and start to talk about the gifts they didn’t give or get.  

Liz nearly bought George a set of matching golf clubs. George says he nearly bought her a mink jacket. He says he saw it in the window at Millers, but realized he couldn’t afford it. Liz sadly reminds him that she has never had a fur coat and wonders if they could afford it if they all their Christmas gifts to the store. George says it still wouldn’t be enough, but Liz wants to wear something special to the Atterbury’s New Year’s Eve party. 

Next morning, in the kitchen, Katie the Maid asks Liz why she is so sad. Liz tells her about her mink jacket dreams. Liz solicits Katie’s opinion on how she can’t best get George to get her a mink jacket in time for the party.  Liz decides to play sick since George always gets her what she wants when she’s ill. 

After dinner, Liz and George contemplate what to do. Liz suggests going to the movies to see Harvey starring Jimmy Stewart, which is playing at the Strand. 

Harvey is a comedy about a man whose best friend is a six-foot tall imaginary rabbit. It premiered just ten days earlier before this broadcast and starred James Stewart. The film won an Oscar for Josephine Hull. The screenplay was based on the 1944 Broadway play of the same name by Mary Chase which won the 1945 Pulitzer Prize for Drama. 

Before Liz can tell George the second feature, she starts to writhe in pain!  Amid moans and groans, Liz details the pain for George. She says she used to have these attacks as a child. When she says the only thing that sometimes helps is little gifts to make her happy, George gets suspicious.  He quickly leaves the room to make a phone call, which Liz thinks is to buy her a mink jacket, but he has actually called the doctor! 

End of Part One

Bob LeMond presents a live Jell-O commercial, giving a basic recipe for preparation of all delicious six flavors!

ANNOUNCER: “As we look in on the Coopers once again, Liz is pretending to be sick and George, who is worried about her, has called the doctor.”

The doorbell rings and George admits Dr. Stevenson (Frank Nelson). Before seeing Liz, George tips him off that Liz may have a rare disease and that the only cure is a mink coat! George asks him to give her a good scare and the Doctor agrees to play along.  

Entering the bedroom, Liz immediately tells the Doctor she feels much better.  But after a quick exam, the Doctor diagnoses Liz with a rare tropical disease from the West Indies called the ‘Flimjabs’. The only cure is to operate and remove her ‘torkle’ but warns her that she will never be able to ‘yammle’ again. The Doctor explains that ‘yammling’ is an involuntary peristalsis of the transverse clavis. 

GEORGE: “Doctor, do you have to remove the whole torkle?” DOCTOR: “Maybe we’ll be lucky and can save half of it. After all, half a torkle is better than none.” LIZ: “Well, I should say so!  I’d hate to think of never yammeling again!”

The Doctor says that they must now wait 24 hours and see if she turns green. 

DOCTOR: “If you turn green, three hours later (snaps his fingers) gone.” LIZ:  (snaps) “Gone?”  DOCTOR: (snaps) “Gone.”

For the television script, the ‘Flimjabs’ was renamed the 'Gobloots’ - a rare tropical disease that carried into America on the hind legs of the 'boo-shoo bird.’ It can necessitate a person having to undergo a 'zorchectomy’ – total or partial removal of the 'zorch’. Even if doctors are able to save half a person’s 'zorch,’ the patient will never be able to 'trummle’ again. 'Trummling’ is a mysterious involuntary internal process. Finally, if you turn green while suffering from the 'gobloots’ you will be dead in 30 minutes!  

Iris Atterbury drops by to see Liz on her way to the Bridge Club meeting. Liz tells her that she has been diagnosed with the Flimjabs. 

IRIS: “Oh, how exciting! This will make Betty Ricky’s gallstones look sick! She’ll be absolutely green.” LIZ: “She's not the only one. That’s one of the danger signs. I may turn green.”  IRIS: “With a green face and red hair, you’ll be out of this world.” LIZ: “Yes, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

Iris is overcome with emotion at the thought of losing Liz. She doesn’t want to leave, but the ice cream for the Bridge Club meeting is in the car and it’s melting! 

That night, Doctor Stevenson returns to check on Liz. Answering the door, George confesses that he’s put a green light bulb in Liz’s bedroom light. As soon as George turns on the lights, Liz shrieks seeing her green hands! Her face and hair have turned green, too!  Liz thinks the men have Flimjabs too, because they are also green, but then the truth sets in. 

LIZ: “Oh, no!  This is the end!  I’m looking at the world through green colored eyeballs!” 

Liz dramatically declares that she’s dying. George accuses her of being over-dramatic. 

LIZ: “I’m sorry, George. But I don’t die every day and it’s new to me.”

Before her imminent demise, Liz confesses to all the car accidents she’s had and hidden by having the car fixed without telling him.  

LIZ: “In fact, the only thing left of the original car you bought is the ashtray in the back seat!”

Then Liz bravely confesses to pretending to be sick to get him to buy her a mink coat. George also needs to make a confession: it was all a trick. There is no such thing as ‘Flimjabs’ and the light is from a green light bulb!  

The phone rings and it is Iris, tearfully calling from the Bridge Club meeting. The girls have just had a memorial ceremony for Liz by turning her chair to the wall and smashing her teacup in the fireplace. Before Liz can tell Iris that it was a joke, she learns that they all chipped in and bought her a goodbye present: a mink coat!  Liz hangs up in tears. George is confused.

GEORGE: “Isn’t that what you wanted?” LIZ: “Yeah, but I have to die to get it!”

END OF EPISODE

In the live Jell-O commercial, Lucille Ball and Bob LeMond play a couple of nomads lost in the desert. Lucy uses her ‘Isabella Clump’ voice as ‘Smith’. Bob is looking for his camp, near a big dune. 

LUCY / ‘SMITH’: “A dune? What’s a dune?” BOB: “What’s a dune????” LUCY / ‘SMITH’: “I dunno. What’s a-dune with you?” 

Smith sees a mirage - a big bowl of Jell-O! After describing the six delicious flavors, Bob suggests they go home. 

BOB: “Go home? We’re lost in the desert!”  LUCY / ‘SMITH’: “Why don’t we each take one of those cars.” BOB: “What cars?” LUCY / ‘SMITH’: “The ones over there. That’s a two-car mirage!” 

The same date this episode was broadcast, columnist Sid Shalit in the New York Daily News reported that a television situation comedy was being prepared starring Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz in the mold of “My Favorite Husband”.  Clearly, the radio series was winding down. This was the final episode of 1950 with only 16 episodes left. 

Meanwhile, in addition to radio and television, Ball was on the nation’s movie screens in two 1950 films: The Fuller Brush Girl and Fancy Pants. 

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Mystery Baby Theatre, Part 2

(Short Story Post, 2/6)

As expected, the little sick event drove in the views. Reggie’s newest pregnancy was a hit and he strut his stuff in front of the camera whenever his partner asked. The kids loved it too whenever there was a new baby on the way because it meant more family activities together because Carlos liked to show off how family driven they were on camera. Unlike his previous pregnancies though, Reggie found himself having a much harder time. Eating became difficult with his morning sickness and he only craved alcoholic drinks, specifically wine. This left him a little bit tipsy all the time. He also wanted to smoke. He wanted to smoke cigarettes really badly even though he’d never smoked a day in his life until now. He’d been told to expect these cravings by the mystery sire and that it was safe to indulge them. Smoking and drinking was bad for their videos though, so he had to do it in secret, but because he did it so often, he had less chances to be on screen. He was right about feeling the baby kicking early on: only a couple weeks after the first video, he could already see visible movement from the foetus inside. No other pregnancy has such development so early and it did not help him sleep at all. At night, Reggie spent hours rubbing his belly, hoping the baby would calm down so that he could get even just a few winks of rest.

As obsessed with the belly as Carlos was, he was first to notice appearance changes. As Reggie’s baby grew, the veins on his stomach had started to darken more than any of his other pregnancies, almost looking black under his skin, like ink had been injected into his bloodstream. By month four, his skin was webbed with them, starting from his belly and radiating up into his chest and down to his thighs. They bulged a little and anywhere there were clustered, his skin was overly sensitive and sore. Rubbing lotion on it seemed to help just a little with the pain, but the dark veins didn’t go away. For the most part, they avoided doctors. They found one they trusted to help with Reggie’s health through his pregnancies, but they still preferred not to go too often as they’d had one too many stalkers and they didn’t need anyone harassing their source of medical attention. Their doctor however was just a human doctor and Reggie always refused to have ultrasounds done to preserve the surprise of it all, so a lot of guesswork was involved in treating him. Carlos was more concerned than Reggie seemed to be about it. Yes, he loved the mystery and the views, but he loved Reggie more and this pregnancy was worrying him more than any of the others. “Mi príncipe, how are you feeling this morning?” Carlos asked one day, as Reggie came into the kitchen. He was now six months along and had their youngest, Ocean, on his hip. The blue babe had tear stained cheeks from finishing a little fit and clung to Reggie for comfort. Their little fist scrunched up his shirt, exposing a bit of belly. “You know, rough night, but I could be worse,” Reggie admitted, going and sitting down at the kitchen table. He placed Ocean on his shrinking lap and wiped their face down with a tissue. “Could you warm up a bottle for us?” “Is he hungry?” Carlos asked, getting up to prepare the formula. Reggie had already had top surgery before ever getting pregnant so he could only bottle feed his children. “They, babe,” Reggie reminded. “Please remember.” “Lo siento, my love,” Carlos apologised. Since Ocean was born a mixed Yulinian child, their sex was not like a human’s so at first, the couple had attributed the baby with the gender they believed they looked like they had but were quickly corrected by Yulinian fans who informed them it was proper practice that Yulinians born on Earth should use neutral terms and should be given the choice to choose genders when they are older. Carlos had been nervous about following it, but Reggie had been all for it especially since he had a few non-binary friends, so he insisted they do their best to work with that for Ocean. “Are they hungry?” “We’ll see. You know Ocean,” Reggie said. “They never know what they want…” “Fair.” Carlos threw the bottle in the microwave and went over to give Reggie and Ocean each a kiss. “Are the others still asleep?” Reggie nodded. “Brynn’s up but she’s on her iPad. Pretty sure she's addicted.” “Of course, but all the kids have them these days...” Carlos placed his hands on his hips. “What will you be up to today?” “I don't know... Maybe some yoga?” “You should see if you can get Vance to join you. He has karate tonight. Extra stretching could help.” “Oh, is it really karate day? I think his gi is in the wash.” “There's time.” “I know, I just don't have energy.” “Don't worry about the laundry. I can finish the laundry,” Carlos said, getting the bottle out of the microwave when it beeped. “Anything you need me to do.” “What are you up to today?” Reggie asked taking the milk. He tested it on his wrist. “Are you making a video?” “No, no... It’s a family day, babe. We should take the babies out somewhere.” Reggie shook his head starting to feed Ocean. “I don’t think I’m up for outings today… If you want to take them though, knock yourself out.” “You know I can’t do it without you.” Carlos leaned over the back of Reggie’s chair and placed a hand on his stomach. He blinked when he felt the squirming inside. “Reg, you didn’t tell me the baby’s kicking right now.” “It’s always kicking,” Reggie said. “It never stops so I guess I’m just so used to it now, I don’t even notice. Sorry babe, I know how much you love feeling the kicks.” “Yes, but this is a bit ridiculous,” Carlos said. “Are you sure you’re okay?” “I swear, everything’s perfectly—” Reggie was cut off by their doorbell ringing. They had the smart home all hooked up so their phones also buzzed. Reggie groaned. “What did Vance order this time?” “You know he’s banned. It’s probably my new smart toothbrush,” Carlos considered straightening up. He pulled out his phone to check the camera. “…No, it’s some guy in a suit.” Reggie tilted his head. “A suit? It better not be who I think it is…” “Who?” “The fucking government. They probably want to do tests on our children. Don’t answer it.” Carlos started pocketing his phone, but the doorbell went off again and his notifications when crazy. “They’re very insistent…” “Then tell them to fuck off.” Carlos nodded. “I’ll deal with it, you stay here.” “I had no plans on moving,” Reggie said, clearly occupied with feeding his child. Carlos jogged to the front hall and stood at the door. Through the door window, he could tell the suit was taller than him but skinnier. He pulled out his phone again and used the intercom option through the doorbell. “Hola?” “Hello, is this the residence of Carlos Fuerte and Reginald Tran?” “Who is asking?” “I am agent Korsgaard from the APID. I’d like a word with you.” “You’ve had a word. Now you can leave us alone.” “Sir, I understand that my team has contacted you before and that these encounters have been less than pleasant. I can assure you, I am here peacefully.” “Then peacefully go away.” The agent let out a long sigh. “...I have had to watch every single one of your videos to determine the health and safety of your partner, your children and yourself. Now we've checked in before, but your partner’s current pregnancy concerns us, and we are not sure that he is safe to give birth this time around. We just want to help.” Carlos paused. He was pretty concerned about Reggie too. This pregnancy did seem a lot different from the others. But Reggie insisted he was fine so he wasn't sure what to do. “...You're a fan?” “A fan? Well, I wouldn't...” “You've seen every video?” “Correct.” “Even the OnlyFans videos?” “Yup....” “Name one.” Korsgaard stretched his back and placed his hands on his hips. “... 'I eat Jell-O off my fiancé's ass'...” Carlos lit up with glee. “You are a fan!” “So, can we talk?” “No. Please leave my property.” The agent let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay... I left a card in your mailbox with my contact information. I urge you to be in touch.” “Bye.” The agent started to walk away down the driveway. Once he was off camera, Carlos jumped up and ran to the window on the side of the house. “Psst! Hey!” Carlos called the agent back. “Sir!” The agent cocked an eyebrow and returned. “Korsy, please.” “I'm sorry I was so rude,” Carlos said. “Reg was probably listening in on the whole conversation through our camera system app thing. I didn't want him to think I'm willing to talk to you.” “Are you?” “Yes!” Carlos started to crawl out the window. “I'm worried about Reggie!” Korsy rushed forward, worried the man was going to fall. “Hey, be careful!” “Haha, calm down.” Carlos hopped down from the window and straightened up. “A real fan would know a short drop from a first story window is not going to hurt me.” “You've been hurt countless times,” Korsy said. “Maybe physically,” Carlos admitted. “But not my spirit.” “That's not really... Anyway, can we talk here, or do you want to go somewhere else?” “Here's fine,” Carlos said. “The cameras near here only point towards the front of the house. Blind spot.” “...Have you evaded your partner like this before?” Korsy asked. “Yes, but mostly just for surprise gift deliveries,” Carlos said. “I instruct the drivers to leave things in the bush over there so Reggie doesn't see. You know, in case I'm not home.” “Ah. Adorable.” Carlos smiled. “So, um, do you know what's wrong with Reg? Can you tell?” “We don't know,” Korsy said. “It's the fact that we don't know which concerns us. All of Reggie's past pregnancies we've seen the species before. This one, we don’t think we’ve ever seen, and it appears to be adversely affecting his health." “I've been saying that to Reg from day one but he won't listen to me,” Carlos said. “He's more concerned about the views it can get us and keeping the surprise, but I care more about him. I don't want him to get hurt.” Korsy nodded. “Your partner needs to be seen by a professional. If he'd come with us back to APID, a doctor would be able to assess his health risks.” “He's not going to let that happen,” Carlos sighed. “Reggie's too stubborn. Isn't there any other way?” Korsy raised his hands. “I really can't say. Your best chance is a full examination.” “I can barely get him to go to our family doctor,” Carlos complained. “I don’t think I can get him to co-operate.” “Well, we can’t do anything without your co-operation.” “You can’t just, ya know, kidnap him or something?” “Absolutely not. The government cannot detain citizens without warrant to do so.” “So get one. Doesn’t the government pull strings like that all the time?” “I’m not going to arrest your partner just because you ask me to. Everything you and your partner are doing here is within your right. We just want to help.” Carlos went quiet, thinking for a moment. He looked over the agent then paused on a specific feature of his. “Wait…” “Sir, please don’t stare at my ears,” Korsy requested, noticing where the man’s eyes were directed. “You’re something else, aren’t you?” Carlos said. “Are you, like… A goblin or something?” “A…A-A goblin?!” Korsy scrunched up his nose. “I’m not a goblin, I’m an elf!” “Oh! Sorry, that’s what I meant,” Carlos said. “You must understand the mix up.” “Frankly, I don’t!” Korsy growled. “Goblins are tiny, ugly and greedy little creatures… Elves are a tall noble race.” “Lo sciento, I got the wrong word,” Carlos apologised. “I’m sorry, you know I’m not a native speaker… Anyway, I think I know a way I can get Reggie to participate.” Korsy placed his hands on his hips. “Really?” “Yes. I think I can get him to co-operate if you’d agree to father our next child.” Korsy blinked. “I’m sorry, what?” “We haven’t had an elf before,” Carlos said. “You’re handsome too. Reggie would probably be very excited, though he wouldn’t like that I’d know...” “Absolutely not.” Korsy turned around and started walking back to his car. “Goodbye, Mr. Fuerte. You have my information.” “Wait, please!” Carlos begged. “I’ll pay you!” Korsy stopped and turned around furiously. “Mr. Fuerte, my race isn’t for sale!” Carlos put his hands out. “Okay, okay. No need to shout. I was just trying to think of a solution.” “I recommend you talk to your spouse. We can’t help otherwise. Understand?” “Understood.” The agent got back in his car and drove off, leaving Carlos to figure out how he was going to climb back into the window.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

[chuckepisodes]

Chuck vs. The Helicopter Part 4

Casey was still sitting on the floor, still feeling the effects of the dart. "Casey, he's got Sarah. We've got to save her." Chuck said. "Brilliant deduction, Nancy Drew. " "Hey..." you said starting to defend Chuck. "Now pull out the tranq dart! " "Oh, I have a very strong aversion to needles." " Do it!" "I got it Chuck." You pulled it out real quick and Chuck looked like he was going to be sick. "That was the doctor, right? He's probably not dead? " Chuck asked. "And the sun sets in the west. Nothing gets by you." You and Chuck both got on either side of Casey and helped him up. "One, two, three. what's he gonna do with Sarah?" you asked. "He's gonna torture her until she tells him all about you two. Come on. If we hurry, we can catch him. "

You then all started to rush over to Chuck's car. "All right, where are we going?" Chuck asked. " I laced my quiches with micro bots." " You're not kidding, are you? " you asked. "I don't kid about quiche." Casey said looking over at you in the back. "We can trace him using the car's tracker." " Yeah, I think that only comes with the sports package. " "We made some enhancements when your car was in the shop. " All of a sudden a tiny screen came up, tracker all set. "What?! Did you do that to my car too?" you asked. "Well we always seem to be using Chuck's car so no." "Oh...that's cool." you said trying to not sound disappointed. "Got a signal. Let's go."

Chuck floored it. You all found yourselves pulling into the Buy More. Chuck parked the car and you all quickly got out. You went through a side door at the back, being quiet. "Let's go. " "Hey, Casey, Casey. Wait a minute. Why, why would he bring Sarah here? " Chuck asked. "I don't know." "You two wait here." He then fell down to the floor and quickly got up. The dart still affecting him. "Damn tranq dart. come on." You all then heard screams coming from the home theatre room and quickly but quietly made your way over. You moved the curtains out of the way only to find Morgan sitting there, eating food and watching an old horror film. "It's Morgan." You said. " He ate your quiches." Chuck added. " We're on the wrong trail." You all got back into the car, figuring where Zarnow could have taken Sarah. Casey was trying to track her somehow but nothing was coming up. "I got nothing." "What do you mean you got nothing? Then what do we do?" Chuck asked. " It's over. She's gone. No, no, no, no, no. Okay, this is our fault. We didn't believe her. Now we have to save her." you said. " Look, if you were a bad guy, what would you do, fly Sarah out on a plane? Would you use a boat or a-a-a what"" Chuck asked. "Chopper. Small airfield near the water. The closest I could find." " Then do-do a satellite search using the touch screen and then maybe limit that to airfields that are within a certain range of us and then maybe limit that by if there's activity on the ground?" Chuck said. " That's not bad." Casey said impressed. "Nice Chuck!" " Thanks. Yeah, I was just kind of, you know, spit balling, just kind of top of my head." Casey punched some info in. "Found it. Port of Los Angeles. " "Floor it." you said. " Okay."

You all made it to the port and saw the helicopter as well as a guy with a huge gun coming out of it. This was the spot. Casey then turned to look at you both. "This is how this is gonna work. I'm gonna go over there, rescue Sarah, and capture Dr. Zarnow, shoot anybody who gets in my way. You two, you're gonna stay here. " "So, in this plan we basically do nothing? " you asked. "Yep." " Let's do this." you and Chuck said at the same time. Casey nodded then got out of the car. You then climbed up front to sit beside Chuck. "All right, all right. Now we wait." Chuck said. You then both looked over and saw Zarnow coming out of a warehouse. "Uh Chuck?" "Stay in the car. Stay in the car. Do not leave the car. Do not leave this car." "We aren't staying in the car are we?" you asked. Chuck then turned to look at you. "Nope." "Let's go then." You and Chuck got out of the car and Chuck came up close to you. "Stay close Y/N." You nodded looking at him and you both quietly walked into the warehouse.  You were sneaking around when you noticed Sarah first, her wrists chained up above her head and a duct tape over her mouth. You tapped on Chuck's arm and pointed. Sarah then turned and noticed you both as well. You quickly ran up to her. "Sarah, are you okay?" you asked. "What are you doing here?" she was saying through the piece of tape. "Stupid question." you said. "Okay, uh, should I... ? " Chuck started and then ripped off the piece of tape. "Sorry. " "Y/N, Chuck, you have to get out of here." " No, we're here to save you." you said. " You guys shouldn't even be here; you're too valuable, and, besides, I have this well in hand." " Uh-huh, yeah, 'cause it looks well in hand." Chuck pointed out. You jabbed him in the side with your elbow. "Ow!" " Just find me something to pick this lock." Chuck found something that could work and handed it over to Sarah. All of a sudden Zarnow was coming back in. "Go, go, go! The tape, the tape." Sarah urged. Chuck quickly put the tape back over Sarah's mouth then he grabbed you and pulled you along with him to find somewhere to hide. You both ended up hiding behind a wall that still had a spot to see what was going on. The whole time you were both hiding, Chuck kept his arm around you. You watched as Zarnow approached Sarah. "The helicopter's ready, agent Walker. This is your last chance. We're going to a special facility where they're going to torture you. Really torture, not this child's play. Or you could just tell me who are the patients X." He then pulled out a needle. "Something for the flight." "Oh crap!" Chuck ended up saying it a little too loud. Zarnow heard and looked over to find the two of you. "Run!" you yelled. "Oh crap! Oh crap!" Chuck held onto your hand pulling you along with him. Zarnow then threw the needle which ended up going right past Chuck's face, sticking into a box. You pulled Chuck closer to you. You then both turned to look at him and began to flash, learning all his secrets. "We know you. We know your secret." Chuck said. " You-you've been feeding American science to north Korea for years." You said. " Ah, patients X. To think that my secrets are in those heads of yours. It's an honor, really. Of course, to hell with honor. I'm here for the impressive dollar figure the human intersects will fetch." He had the dart gun pointed at you both. Chuck saw him about to pull the trigger and pushed you out of the way before he shot. Chuck ended up getting hit with a dart in the chest. "Chuck!" you screamed. Chuck said your name before falling to the ground. You went to go hide quickly before he could find you too and shoot you as well. A guy then came up and started dragging Chuck to the helicopter. You wanted to run and save Chuck so badly but you knew you needed to help Sarah first. You ran over to her to try and help when Casey came in to give you a hand. Once you finally got Sarah free you looked over at Casey. "They've got Chuck! We need to go save him now!" You said, worry clear in your voice. "Don't worry Y/N, we'll get him back." Sarah reassured putting her hand on your arm. She knew how you felt about Chuck. You never told her but it was obvious.

You both ran out and saw the chopper leaving. Casey was about to shoot when Sarah put his arm down. "Don't shoot! Chuck will be on there." You were all looking up when you noticed the helicopter was flying all over the place. You were all able to get a good look at who was flying it and it looked to be Chuck. "Oh my God." you said. "Oh, my God, Casey, I think Chuck's flying the chopper." Sarah then said. Casey then grabbed his phone and dialed Chuck's number. "Yeah, I'm here." Chuck answered. " I told you two to stay in the car." You know what? Forget about the car. Tell me how to fly a helicopter. And is Y/N okay?" "Y/N is fine.  All right, there's a collective in the cyclic control. " "What?" "One's the stick. One looks like an emergency brake. Grab 'em both." "Okay, okay, I got it. This is not working!" " Push the stick just a bit forward while doing the same thing with the emergency brake." "Ground-- not good." " Pull up! Pull up! Pull up on the emergency brake! Level off. Level off! " "I don't know how. I don't know how to level off! " "Listen, moron, you want to die?" You were panicking watching this all unfold. "Give me the phone, Casey. I think I know how to help him." you said. " Here." "Chuck?" "Y/NN?! You okay?" "I'm fine Chuck. Let's worry about you though." you said trying to sound calm. "Okay. Okay." "Now we have played a lot of games together. Can you remember any of the flight simulators we played though?" "Uh yeah! Uh, maverick of the skies... uh, stealth fighter elite... uh, chopper patrol." "Okay! The last one! Now just pretend that we are playing the game at your place. We are just chilling in your bedroom playing this game. None of this is real." "It's just a game. It's just a game. Okay, I can do this. I can play this game. " "Easy, Chuck, easy" ". Uh... uh, is this one of those helicopters that can turn into a boat?" he said while flying over the water. " No, it isn't. Just ease to the right and goose the brake. They designed the game exactly like the helicopter." "I got it. I got it. Almost there. A little more to the right. Keeping right. Keeping right. Goosin' the brake. It's just a game. A big scary video game. " He then slowly but surely landed the chopper on the ground. "oh, thank you, god! oh, yes! You are wonderful." Chuck cheered. You smiled real big and started running over to him. You saw Chuck jump out and do a little dance. "And that is how... I do... that! That's how we do that." "Oh my God Chuck!" You jumped on him, giving him the biggest hug ever and breathing a sigh of relief. Chuck instantly wrapped his arms around you. "Hey, hey, hey. It's okay Y/NN. I'm okay." "I know." He squeezed you tighter then put you down. You both turned to see Sarah and Casey approaching you both. "Go team! Up top on that one!" he said raising his hand. "What the Hell were you thinking?!" Sarah yelled. "Chuck, the secrets that you two know are incredibly important. You compromised everything when you two stopped trusting me." Sarah said now looking at you two. "And when you got out of the car." Casey added. "Listen, I'm... I'm sorry, okay?" Chuck said. "Listen this was not all Chuck's fault . I went along with it too." You said, not wanting Chuck to get all the blame. " No, it is not okay. How could you guys think I was the double, huh? You know, I am not Bryce. Bryce betrayed everything that I believe in, and if you ever accuse me of that again, then I will walk away. Mission over. We all go back to Washington. And you do not want that to happen. That you should trust me on." Sarah then began to walk away. "Way to go ace." Casey said before walking away as well.

You went with Chuck back at his place. Your car was parked there again. But before you left, you sat down on the fountain, bringing Chuck down with you. "What's the matter Y/N?" he can see the concern on your face. "I just... you have no idea how scared I was tonight. Seeing you get shot by a dart, getting dragged away..." you started trying not to cry. Chuck sighed. He hated that you had to see that and he imagined he would be feeling the same way as you if it was the other way around. "I'm so sorry Y/N. If we had just stuck to the plan and stayed in the car none of that would have happened." "Chuck it's not your fault. I went along with it too you know." You said looking at him giving him a little smile. "You know though, I probably would have never been able to land that chopper if you weren't there. You saved my ass tonight." "I did didn't I?" you said smirking. He let out a soft laugh then put his arm around you, pulling you close to him. "Again. I'm so sorry Y/NN. I hope to never make you feel that way again." "Our lives are different now so I don't think we can guarantee that that kind of situation will happen again. We just need to have each other's back and protect each other." you said leaning your head on his shoulder. "You know I'm always going to protect you Y/N." "You always have Chuck." You two just stayed that way for a little longer, thankful to be each other's company.

[teaspoon-of-salt]

(full article under cut:)

The scariest day of Maria Del Carmen’s life started with a phone call that initially cheered her up.

A native of Mexico, she has spent the last 24 years as a housekeeper in Philadelphia and had a dozen regular clients before the pandemic began. By April, she had three. Food banks became essential to feeding herself and her three children. To earn extra money, she started selling face masks stitched on her sewing machine.

So in mid-August, when a once-regular client — a pair of professors from the University of Pennsylvania and their children — asked her to come and clean, she was delighted. No one was home when she arrived, which seemed like a wise precaution, given social distancing guidelines. What struck her as odd were the three bottles of Lysol on the dining room table. She had a routine at every home, and it had never involved disinfectant.

Ms. Del Carmen started scrubbing, doing laundry and ironing. After a few hours, she stepped outside to throw away some garbage. A neighbor spotted her and all but shrieked: “Maria, what are you doing here?!” The professors and their children, the neighbor said, had all contracted the coronavirus.

“I was terrified,” Ms. Del Carmen recalled. “I started crying. Then I went home, took off all of my clothing, showered, got in bed, and for the next night and the next day, I waited for the coronavirus.”

She never got sick, but she still is livid. At 58 and, by her account, overweight, she considers herself at high risk. That is why she never took off her mask while cleaning that day — diligence she thinks might have saved her life.

“There are a lot of people who don’t want to disinfect their own homes,” she said, “so they call a housekeeper.”

The pandemic has had devastating consequences for a wide variety of occupations, but housekeepers have been among the hardest hit. Seventy-two percent of them reported that they had lost all of their clients by the first week of April, according to a survey by the National Domestic Workers Alliance. The fortunate had employers who continued to pay them. The unlucky called or texted their employers and heard nothing back. They weren’t laid off so much as ghosted, en masse.

Since July, hours have started picking up, though far short of pre-pandemic levels, and often for lower wages.

“We plateaued at about 40 percent employment in our surveys of members,” said Ai-jen Poo, executive director of the alliance. “And because most of these people are undocumented, they have not received any kind of government relief. We’re talking about a full-blown humanitarian crisis, a Depression-level situation for this work force.”

The ordeal of housekeepers is a case study in the wildly unequal ways that the pandemic has inflicted suffering. Their pay dwindled, in many cases, because employers left for vacation homes or because those employers could work from home and didn’t want visitors. Few housekeepers have much in the way of savings, let alone shares of stock, which means they are scrabbling for dollars as the wealthiest of their clients are prospering courtesy of the recent bull market.

In a dozen interviews, housekeepers in a handful of cities across the country described their feelings of fear and desperation over the last six months. A few said the pain had been alleviated by acts of generosity, mostly advances for future work. Far more said they were suspended, or perhaps fired, without so much as a conversation.

Scrubbing a fluffy little dog named Bobby

One of them is Vicenta, a 42-year-old native of Mexico who lives in Los Angeles, and who, like many contacted for this article, did not want her last name used because she is undocumented.

For 10 years, she had earned $2,000 a month cleaning two opulent homes in gated communities in Malibu, Calif. This included several exhausting weeks in 2018, when fires raged close enough to cover both homes in ash. Three times a week, she would visit both houses and scrub ash off floors, windows, walls and, for one family, a fluffy little dog named Bobby.

Vicenta received nothing extra for the added time it took to scour those houses during the fires. She would have settled for a glass of water, she said, but neither family offered one.

“It was incredibly hot, and my mouth and throat were really sore,” she recalled. “I should have seen a doctor, but we don’t have health insurance.”

If Vicenta thought her years of service had banked some good will, she was wrong. Early in May, both families called and left a message with her 16-year-old son, explaining that for the time being, she could not visit and clean. There was some vague talk about eventually asking her to return, but messages she left with the families for clarification went unreturned.

“Mostly, I feel really sad,” Vicenta said. “My children were born here, so they get coupons for food, but my husband lost his job as a prep cook in a restaurant last year and we are three months behind on rent. I don’t know what will happen next.”

Housekeepers have long had a uniquely precarious foothold in the U.S. labor market. Many people still refer to them as “the help,” which makes the job sound like something far less than an occupation. The Economic Policy Institute found that the country’s 2.2 million domestic workers — a group that includes housekeepers, child care workers and home health care aides — earn an average of $12.01 an hour and are three times as likely to live in poverty than other hourly workers. Few have benefits that are common in the American work force, like sick leave, health insurance, formal contracts or protection against unfair dismissal.

‘A treadmill life’

This underclass status can be traced as far back as the 1800s, historians say, and is squarely rooted in racism. Domestic work was then one of the few ways that Black women could earn money, and well into the 20th century, most of those women lived in the South. During the Jim Crow era, they were powerless and exploited. Far from the happy “mammy” found in popular culture like “Gone With the Wind,” these women were mistreated and overworked. In 1912, a publication called The Independent ran an essay by a woman identified only as a “Negro Nurse,” who described 14-hour workdays, seven days a week, for $10 a month.

“I live a treadmill life,” she wrote. “I see my own children only when they happen to see me on the streets.”

In 1935, the federal government all but codified the grim conditions of domestic work with the passage of the Social Security Act. The law was the crowning achievement of the New Deal, providing retirement benefits as well as the country’s first national unemployment compensation program — a safety net that was invaluable during the Depression. But the act excluded two categories of employment: domestic workers and agricultural laborers, jobs that were most essential to Black women and Black men, respectively.

The few Black people invited to weigh in on the bill pointed out the obvious. In February 1935, Charles Hamilton Houston, then special counsel to the N.A.A.C.P., testified before the Senate Finance Committee and said that from the viewpoint of Black people, the bill “looks like a sieve with the holes just big enough for the majority of Negroes to fall through.”

The historian Mary Poole, author of “The Segregated Origins of Social Security,” sifted through notes, diaries and transcripts created during the passage of the act and found that Black people were excluded not because white Southerners in control of Congress at the time insisted on it. The truth was more troubling, and more nuanced. Members of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s administration — most notably, the Treasury secretary, Henry Morgenthau Jr. — persuaded congressional leaders that the law would be far simpler to administer, and therefore far more likely to succeed, if the two occupations were left out of the bill.

In the years that followed, Black domestic workers were consistently at the mercy of white employers. In cities like New York, African-American women lined up at spots along certain streets, carrying a paper bag filled with work clothes, waiting for white housewives to offer them work, often for an hour or two, sometimes for the day. A reporter, Marvel Cooke, and an activist, Ella Baker, wrote a series of articles in 1935 for The Crisis, the journal of the N.A.A.C.P., describing life in what they called New York City’s “slave markets.”

The markets’ popularity diminished in the ’40s after Mayor Fiorello La Guardia opened hiring halls, where contracts were signed laying out terms for day labor arrangements. But in early 1950, Ms. Cooke found the markets in New York City were bustling again. In a series of first-person dispatches, she joined the “paper bag brigades” and went undercover to describe life for the Black women who stood in front of the Woolworths on 170th Street.

“That is the Bronx Slave Market,” she wrote in The Daily Compass in January 1950, “where Negro women wait, in rain or shine, in bitter cold or under broiling sun, to be hired by local housewives looking for bargains in human labor.”

That same year, domestic work was finally added to the Social Security Act, and by the 1970s it had been added to federal legislation intended to protect laborers, including the Fair Labor Standards Act. African-American women had won many of those protections by organizing, though by the 1980s, they had moved into other occupations and were largely replaced by women from South and Central America as well as the Caribbean.

A total lack of leverage

Today, many housekeepers are undocumented and either don’t know about their rights or are afraid to assert them. The sort of grass-roots organizations that tried to eradicate New York City’s “slave markets” are lobbying for state laws to protect domestic work. Nine states have domestic workers’ rights laws on the book. Last summer, Senator Kamala Harris introduced the Domestic Workers Bill of Rights, which would guarantee a minimum wage and overtime pay, along with protections against racial discrimination. The bill has yet to pass, and if it did, labor advocates and historians say it would merely be a beginning.

“It’s important to get a federal bill, but it leaves unanswered the question of enforcement,” said Premilla Nadasen, the author of “Household Workers Unite” and a professor of history at Barnard College. “The Department of Labor is overextended and it tends not to check up on individual employers. The imbalance of power between employer and employee has been magnified by the pandemic because millions of people are now looking for work. And xenophobic rhetoric has made women more fearful of being deported.”

The pandemic has laid bare not just the vulnerability of housekeepers to economic shocks but their total lack of leverage. Several workers said they had clients who would not let anyone clean who has had Covid-19; others know clients who will hire only Covid survivors, on the theory that after their recovery, they pose no health risk. Housekeepers are often given strict instructions about how they can commute, and are quizzed about whether and how much they interact with others. But they have no idea whether their employers are taking similar precautions. Nor, in many cases, are they accorded the simple decencies that are part of formal employment.

“It would be nice to have at least two days’ notice when someone cancels on you, either to let you know or compensate you for your time,” said Magdalena Zylinska, a housekeeper in Chicago who helped lobby for a domestic workers’ rights bill that passed in Illinois in 2017. “I think a lot of people don’t realize that if I don’t work, I don’t get paid and I still have to buy food, pay bills, utilities.”

Ms. Zylinska emigrated from Poland more than 20 years ago and has yet to get a week of paid vacation. The closest she came was in 1997, when a couple handed her $900 in cash, all at once — for work she’d just finished, work she would soon do, plus a holiday bonus.

“The couple said, ‘Merry Christmas, Maggie,’” she said. “I remember counting that money four times.”

[multific]

Cold and Emotionless

Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Mob!AU

Request: Maybe the reader gets accidently involved by getting caught up in a fight between the two mobs/gangs. They get saved and end up getting protect by Tom Hiddleston and other members from the other mob/gang

Warning: Smut, Violence

Word count: 6.7k

A/N: This turned out longer than I expected. Thank you for this request! I had a great time writing it. Also, please do not hate me for the medical stuff, I’m not a doctor, so I tried to explain why stuff happened the way they did. Hope you like it! Enjoy~

 You didn’t know how you got into this situation.

Perhaps working in a night club as a bartender, wasn’t the best career choice.  

You were currently trying your hardest not to move or irritate the leader that had you in his arms. That disgusting man had a strong grip on your wrist.

Everyone in the club knew that shady men often came there to settle their business and the owner didn’t mind, since they meant good money. All you wanted was to take the empty glasses. But you heard a name, and they couldn’t let you go because of that.

Hiddleston.

“Just let her go. All she heard is my name, I do not care.” if you had to be honest, he looked like a handsome reasonable man, compared to the other, even if he smelled of an expensive perfume, his arrogance was noticeable from far away.

“But I do. And she is well aware of the rules. She is not allowed down here when we are here.”

“I thought you were gone.” you said at a low voice but they all heard you. You felt the grip on your hand get tighter and then a hand landed on your cheek. You hear the noise, before you felt the sting on your face.

“How dare you talk to me, bitch?! I will make sure you won’t do that again!” he raised his hand again, you tried to fight back or move away, but his grip was strong.

“WAIT!” yelled the other man. “I will take care of her.” he still had a stoic face. No emotion, he was cold as ice.

The man let go of your hand but he didn’t fail to shove you in the direction of the table, you his your side and let out a hiss.

And now, you were beyond scared.

Sure the other man was aggressive, but this man, he looked even more dangerous. He was mysterious, cold, emotionless and he had a dark ominous aura around him. He signed for his men lo leave which they did. After the door closed, you thought about your options.

You could try and fight, and possible get shot or worse, or you could try to explain yourself and reason with him. After a few minutes, you settled on the latter.

“I-I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t hear anything. I thought everyone left that’s why I came, I just wanted the glasses.” you were shaking with fear, you weren’t ready to die.

“Oh, all you wanted is glasses and you got yourself into this mess.” his accent was thick, he furrowed his eyebrows. “What should I do to you?” he asked, but you knew, he didn’t want an answer. Yet, you gave him one.

“Please… Just let me leave. I won’t tell anyone your name sir. I can keep a secret.”

“So, you lied.” he said as he leant back. “You did hear something.”

You couldn’t respond to that. You looked down at your hand and your reddening wrist. Tears came into your eyes. You could feel blood in your mouth. You assumed you got a cut on your lip when the man hit you.

“He’s an animal. He shouldn’t have hurt you.” you didn’t look up but you did feel something touch your lips, it was a tissue.

The cold man in front of you placed it onto your lip to soak up the blood. He was now leaning towards you as his hand was out.

You noticed how long his libs were. He must be tall.

“Th-Thank you.” you said and took the tissue from him.

“I cannot leave you here, I’m afraid. He is a regular customer here, and if he sees you, he will do worse than just slap you.” he said, but it sounded more like a judge reading the sentence. “Come.” he commanded and you followed him. You had no other choice.

As soon as you took a step out of the room, you said the previous man right at the end of the corridor.

“I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t do it Hiddleston.” he said as he raised his gun at shot at you.

The next few minutes were a blur.

The man shot, Hiddleston’s men shot at him, Hiddleston pushed you back into the room. Then there was this pain. This horrible, unbearable pain in your leg. But you couldn’t stay awake as everything went black.

***

You woke up in a huge room. You saw the curtain move as the wind blew it.

When your brain was finally fully functioning, shock settled in. You weren’t in your room, not even in your home. You were in a stranger’s bed. You moved suddenly and as you did, you felt the pain in your leg. You let out a loud groan.

When you pulled the blanket, you noticed that from your knee down to your ankle, your left leg was in a cast.

Then the memories came back. The man at the end of the hall, the gun, the shooting. Hiddleston asking if you were okay, the pain, the blood.

That son of a bitch gangster shoot you… in the knee. Hiddleston wanted to take you somewhere, so he kidnapped you. At least you weren’t dead or in a dungeon. Or if this is the Britt’s idea of a dungeon, you’ll gladly stay.

The room was well lit. You could tell that it had a balcony. The room was nicely decorated, but it lacked character, so it must have been a guest room. It had a bookcase but there was about five books on it.

You thought about the situation.

Your leg was in a cast. You couldn’t walk. You couldn’t run away. So, you had to wait for your leg to heal and then you can try and escape. You said try because let’s face it. You were in a gangster’s house, security must be very high up, and there are probably as least one guard outside of your door. But on the good side of things, you weren’t dead. You thought why would Hiddleston try and save you from the man. Why did he care? Or was it just a reflex? Did he try and save himself not even you?

Then the door opened. And in came a woman. She was old, but she looked full of life.

She didn’t say anything just placed a tray down that had some food and tea on it.

“Wait! Please, where am I?” but the woman didn’t answer. You figured she wasn’t supposed to as she basically run out of the room.

It was frustrating to say the least. You were so bored.

The elderly woman came back for your dishes later, you tried to ask her to hand you a book, but she ran out once again.

You had to try and get it for yourself. As you were balancing your leg on the bed while you maneuvered to the shelf, the door opened.

The gang leader looked at you in shock, which he didn’t feel in a long time, as you finally reached a book. But when you noticed that he entered the room, you fell on the floor, you hit your leg, which gave you intense pain as tears welled up in your eyes.

You were quite shocked when he helped you back to your bed and placed three of the books onto your nightstand.

“Thank you.”

“I came to address your situation.” always straight to the point. “Initially, I wanted to let you leave. But since you were injured, I changed my mind. You will stay here while I kill the McGray and after you healed, you may leave.” his face showed no emotion as he just said that his intention was to commit murder.

“McGray?”

“The man in the club. Who shot you. But I need to make it clear for you. I’m doing this to defend my own honor, not yours. Also, Lisa, the woman who brought you food. She is not allowed to speak with you. There is a guard 24/7 in front of the door, so you cannot escape even if you tried to. I will come every day to check your health and a doctor will come every other week. That’s all.” and with that he left you. He didn’t even gave you time to ask any questions.  But at least his intimidating aura left,

All you thought about was if your friends and family will look for you. What will they think? Will they think you are dead? What if they call the police?

You looked at the books beside you, all Shakespeare.

It’s not that you hated him, but he wasn’t your favourite either. But you had to get used to it, since that was the only entertainment you had besides sleeping. Which you definitely needed after all of those night shifts.

***

Thomas William Hiddleston.

You learnt his name. Since the books that you were reading had his name in them. They were old and torn books, he must have read them a lot.

The elderly lady got you every food that you needed. One time, you were brave enough and asked her for some dessert, which she gave you. You were very thankful, even if she didn’t speak to you, her eyes told you stories.

You read all the books in just two days. They your entertainment was to make up stories in your head. And the woman, about Thomas and his empire. At one time, you made up a story that you are his sick wife. And he is so in love with you that he keeps you locked away like some kind of a sick Cinderella story.

He did as he promised. Every day, sometimes in the middle of the night, he came to check on you. And you slowly got used to him. His attitude, the way he carried himself and even his coldness.

Maybe it was Stockholm syndrome.

You weren’t sure. But you soon started daydreaming about him. At first you found it disturbing and scary.

After all, he was a handsome, rich and tall man. Attractive and he looked amazing in suits.

You only saw him in suits. Never in shirts or anything other than an Armani, Gucci or Westwood suit. He was elegant.

Elegant and dangerous.

Slim but muscular. His eyes, oh does baby blue eyes. And his thin, yet amazing lips. And his voice, so deep, rich, perfect for his accent.

Yeah, definitely Stockholm syndrome.

He wasn’t a bad man, at least, to you. He wasn’t kind either. But he was always gentlemanly. Like, the way he spoke, and the words he used.

After about a week since you had been in his house he came in one night and told you that he successfully killed McGray. No emotion whatsoever. Like he just told you that he killed a rat or a bug.

You didn’t know why or when, but you started to open up to him.

But not with your words. You r body language started to change.

You found yourself smiling at him, waiting for him to arrive, so you can have some to talk to. Even if you didn’t say more than a few words. You craved for human interaction.

One day, the brilliant idea came to your mind, you wanted to leave the bed and go to the balcony, since the door was open, it should be easy.

Yeah, no.

You nearly fell, twice, and hit your leg once.

But when you finally made it out. It was all worth it.

It seemed like you were in an old castle of some sorts. You were on the very top floor. And the beautiful view. You admired it as you lent on the stone railing.

All you saw was green. Trees, bushes, colourful flowers. Not a city not even a village in sight. But you also noticed the gates, guards and the security cameras. It looked like a prison.

“What are you doing?” came a voice behind you. It scared the living hell out of you. Nearly made you fall. When you turned back you saw Thomas standing in the door, looking like he usually did, bored and uninterested.

“I-I just needed some fresh air. I have been in that bed for so long.”

“Four days. You have been in bed for four days.”

“I was never good with just sitting around. At least…can I have more books? or a TV? I will not try to escape I swear, I just…I’m so bored.”

You didn’t know what you just saw, in his eyes, it seemed like, regret? No, it must have been your imagination.

“I will get you books and a chair so you can come out here. Anything else the lady would like?” he smiled. SMILED. Even if it was a sarcastic one.

“C-can I speak with the woman? She seems like a nice lady, and I don’t really speak to others excluding you. I need to speak to someone other than myself.”

“We will see. What kind of books do you like?”

“Um-“

“Wait, I have a better idea.” you heard him open the door and he told something to the guard. In a few minutes he was back with a wheelchair.

Why does he have those lying around? Maybe he DID have a sick wife?!

You sat in the chair as he rolled you out of the room.

You saw his castle for the first time. It was breathtaking. The ceiling was so high. It had paintings and statues all around, it looked more like a museum than a home. And just like the room you were in, the whole house lacked something, but you didn’t know what.

He suddenly turned and as the two doors opened, you mouth was left open as well.

Books.

Books everywhere.

A whole library.

“From now on, you may speak to Lisa, but not for long, and you can come here. But no further. The guard in front of your room will assist you here. That’s all the freedom than I will allow. But, If you behave. Next week, you may have dinner with me, downstairs. The doctor said that you can get walking cast next week.” you were so happy.

“Thank you!”  

Was he finally opening up to you?

***

Two weeks passed.

Lisa was an amazing partner to talk with. She told you a lot about Thomas. Thomas used to be a kind, energetic young man who was full of life. Lisa told you that he never had luck with women. His previous girlfriend cheated on him for money and the one before that was only with him for the gifts.  You learnt that he inherited his father’s business when he and his mother were murdered for the money. Since then, he was never the same. He became cold and he just wasn’t himself anymore.

You also went to the library a lot. Not only he had books there, but you also found his hidden bottles of very very expensive whiskey. You may or may not had a little of it.

However, the doctor was wrong.

Your knee wasn’t getting better, quite the opposite.

“The damage to the bone is fatal. I thought the cast would help, but you still feel pain and that isn’t right. This x-ray clearly shows that her bone is damaged to the state where it cannot be healed.”

“Is-Is there a solution?” you asked

“Well, either you have a risky surgery where we replace the bones with artificial ones or...amputation. The fact is that you cannot stand on it like this. Even with support, if it is left like this, your knee won’t last long and the pain will only get worse. It might seem like an exaggeration but imagine this. The bullet hit your knee at it’s week spot. It shattered the important bones and veins into pieces. And I must tell you that, even if you choose the surgery, it might not be a success… So, think about it. I will come next week to hear about what you decided.”

This left you broke.

Amputation?

Or a surgery that might not even work?

In your state of misery you looked at Thomas. He looked just as shocked as you did.

“Seems like I might have caused you more trouble than I thought. It’s okay if you want to make me leave now. I mean, I cannot run. But I do not want to cause more trouble.” you said.

“No.” he simply said and left your room without a word.

What?

Why did Thomas feel like this? Like he failed you? He barely knew you for a month and a half, yet he felt something inside him. Even before, he saw you in the club even before that day.

But why?

Why did he care for you?

He was supposed to be heartless, cold. So, why?

***

You didn’t see him, for the next week.

He didn’t came every night like he used to and that made you said.

When you asked Lisa she said that he was home, in his room, but he didn’t leave it. She said that it was like when his parents died. Like he needed comfort from someone, but he didn’t let anyone in.

You wanted to meet with him. Talk to him. You needed to.

You asked the guard to go and ask Thomas to meet with you in the library. You sat in your wheelchair, whiskey in hand a little table at your side with a chair sitting opposite of you, another glass filled with whiskey, waiting for Thomas.

Surprisingly, he came. He didn’t say anything, just sat down and drank his beverage. But he looked the same. Nothing changed on the outside.

“I needed to talk to you, because the doctor comes tomorrow. I do not want you to feel obligated because of my injury. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t. What kind of fairytale world do you live in? That I would think he shot you because of me? If I remember correctly, YOU were the one to be careless, YOU were the one that walked into the room, it was YOU. So don’t give me this peep talk. Because, I KNOW that it wasn’t my fault, so let the pink fog clear away and see the world as it is, Sweetheart. I kept you here because YOU went against the rules, YOU know my name, YOU got shot and horribly injured. I don’t give a single fuck about you or your pitiful life. You are nothing but a bartender a waitress a no one.” you were shocked, and hurt, you never heard him talk like this.

“Did it make you feel better?” you asked, fighting tears. “Did my humiliation make you feel better? I know damn well that it’s my fault! I know damn well that I am a worthless piece of shit, you don’t have to remind me! I just wanted YOU to feel better, because for some fucked up reason I care about YOU, Thomas. I get it okay? You are dangerous and a bad man, but that doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole! God damn it, if I could walk I would soo walk out and slam that door behind me, so pretend that I did!” by the time you finished tears were falling from your eyes. Thomas looked at you very shocked. No one ever talked to him like that, not even his father or mother. As the tears rolled down your cheeks, he reached out to wipe them, you tried to move away from his touch but he didn’t let you.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” this was the first time he used your name. “It was wrong of me to say those things. It’s just…I’m scared. And it’s pathetic. I’m scared of my own feelings. I never felt this was before, well that’s a lie. I did, once. And she broke me. I promised that I would never, ever fall in love again. But you. I saw you in the club. Making drinks for those dirty man. And then McGray. I was so angry, I wanted to punch him for touching you. But I promised, I won’t show any emotion.” you looked into your eyes, his words were so sincere and his eyes held so many emotions, there were tears in them too. “I barely even know you, I don’t even know anything about you, yet. I love you.” your head was spinning. It was too much to take in.

“I-let me think for a moment.” he did, he backed off, sat into his chair and downed another shot of whiskey. “I thought it was Stockholm syndrome. I’m not sure if it isn’t. But what you said, you don’t know me, I don’t know you. Well, besides what Lisa told me.”

“What did she say?”

“Oh, just about your parents and that you used to be energetic, just basic things.”

“That’s still more than what I know about you.”

“That’s true…Then how about. We leave your confession for another time. Give us time to get to know each other. And if you still feel the same, confess to me again, and I will give you an answer.”

“Sounds fair.” this was the first time you saw him smile, truly and whole heartedly. Suddenly the cold man was just a far memory. “Right, how did you decide? Will you go with the surgery?”

“No.”

“What? Why not?”

“The chances of it being successful are too low in my case.”

“So, you just. Give up your leg?”

“Yes. It was a hard decision and I read into it, well as much as I could and I did call the doctor to get some info.”

“How? I never gave you a phone!”

“There’s one here!” you said as you pointed at the machine in the library. Thomas forgot about that.

“And how did you know the number?”

“I asked Lisa to look it up for me.”

“Clever. You know, if you weren’t in that chair, you might have escaped from here.”

“I like to believe so.” you smiled proudly at him. You never told him that you did call your family and friends, and to your shock, they never noticed your absence. How disappointing. You thought they were worried, and nothing. They didn’t even care.

***

A whole month has passed.

You got your leg amputated and you were currently trying to get used to your prosthetic. Thomas was a lot of help during the process.

He hired a very good therapist to get you used to your new life. You even had a psychologist to keep your mental health straight.

And one more thing, you were dating Thomas.

As it turned out, he was one of the most feared gang leaders in the world, yes, the whole world. But the time you spent together after your surgery, and he took you on a lot of dates. He made you feel beautiful and special

You weren’t anxious about your missing limb, yet he made sure you never will. He complimented you a lot and made you feel good.

You established that with his line of work, you had to be careful and a personal guard will always be with you.

But considering that you barely left his castle, he didn’t need to worry.

And as it turned out, you assumption was half right.

You felt attraction towards your captivator because of the syndrome, but that was only half of the truth. You fell for him a little back then, you didn’t know how or when did it happen, but it did.

And now, that little something blossomed into a full romance.

You two were still in the very beginning of your relationship, yet you felt it that it was real love. After all, a man like him wouldn’t do such things to someone he doesn’t care about.

And when you asked him why did he confess you that night in the library, his answer shook you.

“You wanted to leave, and I didn’t want that to happen. And then I remembered the past. I played with the fire once and it didn’t end well for me. So, I wanted to push you away. Hurt you, so you’d beg to leave. Then it all went down when you started crying. I never felt that much pain in my life. Seeing you cry, it made me break my façade.”

You first kiss happened not long after.

At night, it was a huge storm outside. You couldn’t sleep, so you went to his bedroom. He wasn’t asleep either. You laid next to him, listening to the storm when he suddenly started talking. About everything he wanted to do the next day, he wanted to distract you. And it ended up with a sweet kiss. He slowly leant closer, you didn’t even notice it until he was placing his lips on your soft ones.

Nothing else happened that night.

But from then on, you slept in the same bed.

***

Even if he was a gang leader, he always came home in time. Even with blood on his suit. It was hard to get used to, but you somehow did. But he did promise to never come home like that again. Even if it was a few drops of blood weren’t even his.

His job scared you, but it was a part of him, a very big one. So, you had to accept it. You also thought about having a job, but Thomas dismissed the idea, saying you needed to heal and even then, it would be way to dangerous. If an enemy of his learns about you, they could use it against him.

So, you did what you could around the house. You even designed a new garden at the back. You had too much time in your hands. You started writing. Thomas gave you a laptop, and it worked out perfectly.

You wrote out all your worries, insecurities, fears and even happiness out. You started a blog where you helped the people who had the same fate as you. So, even if you didn’t have a paying day-time job, you felt useful and helpful.

As for your relationship, it was perfect. Thomas brought you on dates when he had time. He made sure that every single day he would be at home for dinner, so the two of you can eat together. But one thing bothered you.

Even if he told you every single day how beautiful you are, he never touched you. He never went further than kissing, and that made you crazy. Since he was such an attractive man, you really wanted to have sex or make love with him. You could settle with a slow and passionate love making session or a rough but very satisfying sex. Either of the two or somewhere in between.

“How was your day?” you asked once the two of you were in bed, you laid on his chest as his arm ran up and down your back.

“Hmm? You already asked me that.”

“I know. But your answer is always different when its just us.”

“It was rough. A man came and needed some money, so I gave them. You made me soft you know? Would have never loaned money otherwise. But it’s not a bad think. I just hope that rivals won’t see it as weakness.”

“I don’t know a lot about gangs. But I do know you. You do what you need to. And don’t blame me for you having a heart.”

“I always thought that I died with my parents. I’m happy that you proved me wrong, Darling.”

“I love you, Tom.”

“I love you too.”

The next morning you woke up, Tom has already left for work.

You had physical therapy scheduled but other than that, your day was free.

So, after you were done with the therapy, you thought about baking. You baked two trays of chocolate chip cookies, cupcakes and even a small cake decorated with macaroons. The whole place smelled like a bakery and the guards got hungry. You offered them some. At first they didn’t want to take it, they thought their boss would be mad, but you talked them into it.

Seeing how much they enjoyed the cookies, it made you happy. Even Lisa said that they were amazing.

Tom came home early that afternoon, he wanted to surprise you. You can imagine the amazement on his face when he saw his intimidating 6’3 tall guards eating cupcakes with pink and orange frosting.

But as soon as he entered his home, he smelt it. It had faded but the sweet smell was still lingering in the house.

“Welcome home.” you said with a smile while you were sitting in the living room, reading something on your tablet.

“Darling, care to tell me while my guards are eating sweets?”

“Oh, I baked some, at first I only wanted to bake for you, but then I thought they might want some as well.”

“You and your big heart.” he said as he leant over to place a quick kiss onto your lips.

“You are home early.”

“Yes, I intended on surprising you, but it turned out the other way around.”

“I’m glad. At least I can have you with me. Want to watch a movie before dinner?”

“Sure, let me change.”

“And after dinner, we can have dessert.” you said after him. You thought about the rich chocolate cake in the fridge but Tom had something else in mind.

After dinner, and chocolate cake, you found yourself in a make out session on the couch in a tangled heap of kissing and moaning.

Maybe you should say you were about to make love to Tom for the very first time. Tom pulled back for air and that is when you as it in his eyes, the need, the lust and the love.

He held you down, grinding his hips hard into your own with unusual desperation, it was like he was waiting for this for a long time.

His usually loving and caring expression was showing a hint of rare excitement. Tented eyebrows above warm blue eyes and a mouth that never left his partner’s skin, always kissing, sucking somewhere. His body curled over your own as his lips kissed your sensitive neck.

You really enjoyed this sexy, hot side of him.

He bit and sucked till your body became eager. You yearned for more of his wet tongue, more pinching fingers across your sensitive nipples, and his hands pushing your legs further apart. Yours were clutching desperately at his shoulders, guiding him to touch and kiss you harder.

“Tom. Please, bedroom.” you told him. You were ready for him to take you, but hot there, not on the couch, not as your first time with him.

He was quick to respond as he got up and picked you up, still abusing your neck as he walked to his bedroom, kicking the door shut.

In the room, he placed you on the bed and his hand went to the direction of your prosthetic, silently asking for permission to remove it. You gave him a quick nod.

Once he removed it, you felt a sudden rush of anxiety. You were about to cover yourself when he said it.

He was currently trying to get off your panties and bra.

“You are so beautiful.” the sincerity in his voice made you want to go further. You didn’t want to stop anymore.

You moaned out softly as you arched your back off the bed as he got a nipple in his hot mouth, your smooth stomach and hips brushed against his erection. He let out a groan at that.

You wanted to moan in relish at the feeling of him.

He was hard.

You could feel the outline against his shorts, and made sure to rub it down with sensual bucks of your right thigh.

That’s when you noticed that he was still wearing his shirt and boxer. You went ahead and removed them. As his clothing hit the floor he moved to cover your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

Muffled sounds of abandon from both of you became one your tongues met in the heat of the moment.  Tom was quick to realign, his mouth moving seamlessly against your lips in a hasty series of kisses. He was skilled and he definitely had experience in the past.

You gently gasped in appreciation as he kissed your stomach down to your womanhood and one hand slid from his shoulder to grasp into his hair.

This was intimate. A whole other level of love.

Just pleasure being shared between the two. As you finally melded into one.

Tom’s wet tongue explored your wetness boldly. Strong and sure he rubbed the tip of it against your sensitive clit hidden within your folds. You cried at the sensations but did not shy away from his touch. You remember him asking you wheatear or not you were ready, and you told him to take you. Since then, all of his focus was on you.

He licked up and down from opening to clit with firm pressure

“How’s that feel?” he asked lowly.

Your forehead was strained and your voice got high, breathless, and whining.

“So good!”

He stopped, too soon for your licking but he got to kiss you once again, you tasted yourself on his lips, he got you incredibly wet. You thought about returning the favour.

Immediately you reached for his erection, and relished his hiss as you rubbed at his swollen head with cautious fingers. He was warm and slick with pre-cum dripping out little beads of white at his tip.

You wiggled your hips suggestively and a little teasingly and gave him a firm tug that made him groan.

“So good.” he said as you worked your delicate fingers up and down his thick and long length.

It took only a second for Tom to pull away from your hand, he got a condom out of his bedside table and placed it on himself the next thing you knew, you could feel him nudging at your entrance. You made a small gasp out of surprise and steadied your hands around his neck while he grabbed your hips tightly. Your fingers moved up into his hair slightly tugging it.

“Tom!!” you raised your hips for him, and with one firm thrust and he was inside. You squeaked, clamping your mouth shut to stop you from moaning out too loud.

His first thrust, after so much anticipation was so wonderful. He was hot and so deliciously thick at his base, you couldn’t help yourself as you stopped breathing for a moment.

He curled over you again, one hand slipping down your back and to your ass to lift you up higher, the other braced the bed by your ribs and bare breasts. He took the sight in.

You, breathing heavily under him as he guided his length into you at a steady pace.  He took a moment to nuzzle into your neck again in that spot that made you roll your head back in satisfaction. He found that spot way too easy.

The man only smiled at the noise you just made, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at every enthusiastic moan. After all, your moans were clear signs that he was doing the right thing.

So, he inched forward little by little till he was sure you had taken all that you could of his long and thick cock. He let you adjust once again, tongue working on your breasts and collar bone, before rearing back and moving back in at a slightly quicker pace.

He was so deep, so so deep, you repeated in your mind. His presence above you were so close, it doubled the feelings building up in the pit of your stomach.

“Ohhh~” he relished that feeling for a moment, his erection being squeezed by your body, and the pure heat he felt from your slickness. You sighed against his temple and murmured to him.

“You feel so good inside me, Tom.”

Tom couldn’t help but press his hips just a little bit harder, pushing you open just a tiny bit wider so you’d wrap your leg tightly around his waist. Your hand went from his hair down his back, you felt every muscle of his move and tense as he moved into you. At last your hand landed on his ass. You felt his perfectly round bottom tense with his movements.

Tom decided to grind against your clit for a moment, making you shake a little and cry out of pleasure. He inhaled and receded quickly before moving forward in a pace that had you clutching onto his shoulders and lower back.

You gasped and began your own rocking to meet his every thrust, well as much as you could with one leg, but you succeeded judging by the way he let out a loud and long groan. You tried to keep quiet, biting down on your lips than at your hand in order to try to muffle your moans, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t hold back. You let your noises out.

You couldn’t help it. How could you when his movements were perfectly timed, his strong legs letting his cock fill you up over and over again in long and powerful strokes. He was hitting that spot inside that made your belly clench while you see stars.

Tom silently thanked that his stamina was good. Otherwise he would have already came just by the erotic noises you made.

You were aware of your voice as it was getting louder, and the pace of Tom’s hips meeting your body firmly in that sexual rhythm that turned you on oh so much. Skin hitting skin, the noises could be heard as it bounced back from the walls, on top of it all Tom’s own groaning in the shell of your ear was the last thing that made you incredibly crazy.

“That’s it.” Tom grunted, rolling his hips in a special way that made you chant his name.

How can he do that? It’s too good.

You were close, you could feel yourself climbing higher and higher to your climax.

You were about to cum, and his rhythm was getting faster and more erratic.

“Tom.”

“Y/N.” when he moaned your name, which was the last straw. You reached your high as you came. You dug your nails into his back, scratching him in the process.

But he didn’t care. He met his own high when you deliciously tightened around his member.

It took the two of you in total of ten minutes to calm your hearts. After he got rid of the condom, he came back to bed and hugged you from behind, blanket over the two of you. You felt his naked sweat soaked body against yours and it was amazing. You felt truly loved.

He kissed your shoulder as his hand stroked your left tight.

“I love you.” he said in between his kisses.

“I love you too.”

That is how you fell in love with the most dangerous man in the world. That is how he saved you and you saved him.

You turned this cold and emotionless man. Well, not entirely, he was still like that towards other, but to you, he was your sweet and affectionate Tommy.

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Descendants of Madness

Disclaimer: Nobody belongs to me. Which really sucks.

 Spoilers: TS - S2 (try to contain your shock); S&H – Bloodbath, Sweet Revenge

 Rating: PG-13

 Warnings: Don’t run with scissors.

  Descendants of Madness

By Gayle Smith

  May 30, 1998

Vacaville, CA

 “Si-mon.”

 “Si-mon.”

 “Si-mon.”

 “Si-mon.”

 Chanting filled the air as a shadowy figure stepped out of the prison transport and raised his shackled hands before him in triumph. “I dreamed this day and it has come to pass. I dreamed that my children would come for me, so that I might walk, unfettered once more, through the unclean cities of the fallen ones and gather the chosen before me.”

 His hand drifted down to touch the head of the supplicant kneeling before him, blank eyes reaching up to meet his. “I dreamed you’d come.”

 The young man, his guard’s uniform covered in the blood of a man he’d once called friend, dropped down to press a kiss to manacled foot in front of him. “Si-mon. Si-mon. Si-mon. Si-mon.”

* * *

 The harsh jangle of the phone disturbed the peaceful silence of the room, bringing a weary sigh from the lone occupant of the bed and seconds later a hand fumbled across the night stand until its fumbling fingers closed around the handset before disappearing beneath the blankets again.

 “‘lo?” A sleep-tinged voice answered, “‘s’it? Yeah. What?” The curly-haired figured shot up in bed, throwing back the covers and reaching for the crumbled pair of jeans on the floor. “How the hell did that happen? Damn it. When? Has anyone told Hutch? No, I’ll call him, then I’ll meet you down at the precinct. And I wanna see everything you’ve got on this. Everything.”

 * * *

 June 3, 1989

Boston, MA

 Laughter followed Debbie Foster as she crossed her office and called out to her companion. “Just give me five minutes to print that file and I’ll meet you in the board room.”

 Stepping across the room, she leaned over her computer and quickly brought up the document in question, sending it to the printer. Eyes still on the printer, she reached over idly to pick up the ringing phone and bring it to her ear, “Hello?”

 “Darkness falls, Simon calls.” A sibilant voice whispered in her ear.

 Papers drifted to the floor, falling from fingers gone slack. Every trace of emotion was wiped from her face.

 “Si-mon.”

 “The time of ascension draws near. Are you ready my child?”

 “Yes, father.”

 * * *

 June 10, 1998

Somewhere in California

 “Pick up the phone. Please, Gail, pick up the phone.” She clung desperately to the phone, her gaze moving nervously between it and the door. “Please, please.” A sigh of relief escaped her lips as the connection was made, “Gail, thank God I...”

 ... awfully busy, but if you leave a number, I’ll be sure to get back to you as soon as I return.” A light, breezy voice informed her.

 “Gail, oh please, you have to get this message. It’s very important. Simon is free. He’s coming for the children, you have to warn...”

 “I dreamed you’d betray me.”

 The soft voice froze the blood in her veins and she turned toward it in mute denial, shaking her head as she stumbled backward.

 “Yes, my child, I dreamed of this.” Simon Marcus reached out to touch her face, cupping it lovingly between his palms. “All of this. And then, I dreamed your death.”

 “No! Please, Simon, please, no.” She fell to her knees in front of him. “Please, I wasn’t betraying you. I swear. I was just trying to find him for you. I swear.”

 “There is no need for untruths between us.” He bent down before her, brushing her hair away from her face. “Simon knows the truth. He dreamed it.” With one swift motion, Simon snapped her neck, watching serenely as she fell bonelessly to the floor. “I dreamed your death.”

 * * *

 June 13, 1989

Cascade, WA

 “Get a move on, Chief.” Detective James Ellison bellowed at his partner as he checked his watch again. “Sandburg, what the hell’s taking so long?”

 “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Blair mumbled around the leather tie in his mouth as he smoothed his hair back into a ponytail, “Geez, Jim, what’s the hurry? Simon’s not expecting us to be at the station for another hour.”

 “I know, but I want to try and get some of the paperwork cleared off my desk before those bozos from the Federal Task force arrive.” Jim motioned toward the open door. “Which I’m not going to do if you don’t get the lead out.”

 “Get the lead out of what?” A cheery voice and the scent of sage brushed past Jim as Naomi Sandburg swept through the open doorway. “Blair, darling.” She enfolded her son in an embrace.

 “Mom? What are you doing here?” Blair’s arms tightened around her as he returned the hug. “When did you get here?”

 “I came straight from the airport, sweetie.” Naomi held Blair at arms length and ran a mother’s eye over him. “You look tired, are you getting enough rest?”

“I’m fine, Naomi.” Blair smiled indulgently at her, “And you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here.”

 “Oh, that’s quite simple, I’ve come to kidnap you,” Naomi responded brightly.

 “Kidnap?” Blair backed away warily. “Mom, what are you up to?”

 “Just trying to spend some quality time with my favorite son.” Naomi linked her arm though Blair’s and led him to the couch. “I thought it might be nice if we spent a little time together. I know the semester is over and I’m sure that Jim can spare you for a few days. Isn’t that right, Jim?” Naomi turned and fixed her bewitching gaze on Jim. “What do you say?”

 “I... ah...” Jim looked between the two figures on the couch, from Naomi’s steady gaze to Blair’s beseeching one. Noticing the slight shake of his partner’s head, a grin crept across his features. “You know, Naomi, I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Our little Blair’s been burning the candle at both ends trying to get through finals and help me out at the station. I think some time away to relax is just what the doctor ordered.”

 “But, Jim, man, don’t you need me down at the station?” Blair’s voice held a barely checked note of desperation. “What about that meeting with the Feds? Simon was expecting both of us for that.”

 “I’m sure Simon will understand, Chief,” Jim replied with a good-natured grin. “He knows how much extra time you’ve been putting in. Go on, go with your mom. Commune with nature, eat granola, meditate. I’ll be sure to save you all of the really exciting paperwork.”

 “Gee, thanks, man.” Blair frowned across the space at his roommate. “No, really, man, I mean that. Sincerely.”

 “Oh, come on, honey, is it really going to be so bad spending a few days alone with your mother?” Naomi reached out a hand to brush a stray lock of hair from his face.

 “No, mom, of course not.” Blair reached up to capture her hand and held it. “All right, I surrender. What should I pack?”

 “A little of everything,” Naomi replied mysteriously.

 Stopped in the doorway to take a final jab at his friend, Jim thought he saw something akin to relief cross Naomi’s face at Blair’s capitulation. He opened his mouth for a moment, intending to ask her if something was wrong just as she turned to him with a graceful smile and quietly waved him out the door.

 * * *

 “Ellison!”

 Jim winced as hot coffee splashed across his hand and turned to face his commanding officer. “Yes, sir?”

 “Where’s Sandburg?” Simon’s gaze traveled anxiously over Jim’s shoulder to the space usually occupied by his partner.

 “Probably still back at the loft, why?” Jim’s focus shifted to the two men waiting in Simon’s office. Both in their mid-50’s, neither had the look Jim had come to typically expect of Feds. The slight arrogance that seemed to surround most of their brethren was missing and both wore an air of weariness that Jim associated with cops who had spent too many years on the streets.

 “What do you mean ‘back at the loft’?” Simon snapped. “I told you both to be in my office at 8:00 to meet with the representatives from the task force.”

 “I know, sir, but Naomi turned up just as we were leaving.” Jim’s attention shifted back to Simon, a faint alarm going off in the back of his head over his captain’s reaction. Simon had said nothing to indicate that Blair’s presence was required at the meeting. “She wants spend a few days with Sandburg and with the way the kid’s been running himself ragged between school and working at the station, I figured he could use the down time. Why? Simon, what’s going on?”

  “Jim, you’d better come in here.” Simon motioned for Jim to join him in his office, closing his door on the curious glances of their co-workers.

 * * *

 “Blair, sweetie, you don’t have to pack everything you own,” Naomi chastised lovingly from the doorway of his room.

 “I’m not packing everything, I’m just... You know, this would be a lot easier if you told me where we were going.”

 “And ruin the surprise?” Naomi’s bright laughter filled the room. “Where’s that sense of adventure I always loved about you, my darling?”

 “Probably somewhere in this bag.” Blair gestured to the large duffel covering half his futon. “But if you tell me what the emergency is and why you’re in such a hurry to get me out of here, maybe I’ll be able to drag it out.” Shoving the duffel aside and plopping down on the bed, Blair reached a hand out to his mother and pulled her closer. “Naomi, what’s wrong? What are you running from?”

 “Nothing, sweetie, nothing at all.” Naomi drew him into her arms. “I’ve got everything I could ever need right here.”

 “Mom, please, I can tell you’re upset about something.” Blair rubbed soothing circles across his mother’s back as she clung to him. “What is it? Please, tell me. You’re not...” Naomi saw the sudden fear shining in Blair’s eyes. “Are you sick?”

 “No. No, Blair, love, I’m not sick. It’s nothing, nothing important.” Naomi stood and brushed away the tears that had suddenly sprung to her eyes. “Let’s just take what you have and go, Blair. We can get whatever we need when we get there. Please.”

 “Okay, mom,” Blair hefted the bag over his shoulder, “but when we get there I expect you tell me what’s going on. Everything.”

 “Anything you want, Blair, just hurry.” Naomi started for the door, her eyes widening fearfully as the phone began to ring. “NO! Blair, leave it.”

 “Mom, it could be Jim.” Blair dropped the bag and reached for the phone.

 “Sweetie, no!” Naomi’s hand closed over Blair’s. “Jim knows we’re leaving, and I know you, if that’s one of your friends from the University we could be here all day. Just let the machine get it. Please. For me.”

 “All right,” Blair shouldered the bag again and followed Naomi out the door. “But you’re going to tell me what’s going on, mom.”

 “Of course, sweetie. Of course.”

 * * *

 Jim paid little attention to the phone ringing in his ear, instead fixing his attention on the files scattered across Simon's desk and the worried frowns surrounding him. The topmost folder was open, revealing bloody crime scene photos of a man in prison guard's uniform with half his face blown away and the inside of a prison transport drenched in blood.

 Fixated on the dark red patterns and the tension radiating off the other men in the room, Jim nearly jumped out of his skin as his own voice greeted him from inside the phone. 'Shit. Answering machine.' Jim silently berated himself and took a deep breath, trying to push aside his feeling of impending doom. "Sandburg, are you there? Chief, if you're there pick up the phone. Okay, listen, I want you to call me as soon as you get this. If you come back to the loft don't leave before you call me, got that?"

 Hanging up the phone, he looked up to find three pairs of eyes watching him. "He must've left with Naomi already."

 "Who's Naomi?" One of the Feds, the angry looking blond one Simon had called Hutchinson, barked at Jim.

 "His mother. What the hell is it to you?" Jim returned the man's icy glare. "And what do you want with my partner?"

 "Hutch, calm down." The second man, his short, dark curls just beginning to turn gray, reached out and placed a calming hand on his partner's arm before fixing his gazing on Jim. "Do you have any idea where they went?"

 "No. Naomi just that said she wanted Blair to come away with her for a few days." Anxiety crept through Jim's gut again. There was something seriously wrong with this situation. Why the hell were these people so damn anxious to find his partner?

 "Simon, what the hell's going on here? Who are they?" Jim jabbed an angry finger in the direction of the visiting Feds. "And what the hell do they want with Sandburg? Is Blair in some kind of trouble?"

 "Jim, I think you'd better have a seat." Simon motioned to the table behind them and started gathering the files off his desk.

 "I don't want to have a seat, Sir." Jim replied coldly, his jaw tensing. "I want to know what the hell is going on."

 "Jim, please..."

 "Captain Banks," the dark-haired one cleared his throat uncomfortably, "I think you'd better get an APB out on Sandburg."

 "You think I don't know that?" Simon snapped at the man before taking a deep breath and continuing. "Captain Starsky, please, just take the files and wait with your partner at the table. Give me a minute to make that call and have a word with my detective."

 "We're wasting time here." Hutch hissed toward his partner. "I told you that we should've just headed straight to the apartment and picked up the kid."

 "Hutch, drop it." Starsky curled a hand around Hutch’s forearm and directed him to the table. “These people know what they’re doing, let’s give them a chance to do it.”

 “All right, I just...” a weary sigh escaped him and Hutch closed his eyes.

 “I know, babe, I know.” Starsky turned back and scooped the files off of Simon’s desk, meeting Jim’s hard stare. “While your captain’s taking care of that, there’s somethin’ I think you should see.”

 Jim studied the man closely, once again gaining the impression that he and his partner were something more or less than the harried Federal agents he’d been expecting. “Unless it’s going to tell me why you’re so interested in my partner, I don’t care.”

“It is. Please.” He gestured toward the table. “All I’m askin’ for is five minutes, detective. Just listen to what we’ve gotta tell you and then decide from there.”

 Jim sat stiffly across from them, suddenly not sure if he wanted to know what those bloody pictures had to do with his friend. As he watched, Starsky reached to pull the second file from the pile and flipped it open in front of him. Inside, a man of approximately 30 stared up at Jim, his guard’s uniform neatly pressed, his warm brown eyes holding a glint of humor.

 “Joseph Spinelli, a prison guard for the last 8 years. He and his partner and another guard were transferring a felon from Folsom prison to San Quentin thirteen days ago.” Jim tried to place the note in Starsky’s voice as he recited this information. Sadness? Regret? “Their prison transport was found abandoned at the side of the road, their prisoner gone and both Spinelli’s partner and the other guard murdered. No sign of Spinelli.”

 “What do a dirty guard and a prison break in California have to do with my...”

 “Debbie Foster,” Hutchinson intoned as he tossed the next folder down in front of Jim, “twenty-eight year-old investment banker in New  York. Walked into her office ten days ago to get a file and hasn’t been seen since.” He sorted through the files, “Jennifer Santo, disappeared from her home, leaving her five month old daughter behind, that same day. George Murphy, disappeared off a construction site. Tyler Parker. David Rhodes. Kathy Wilder.” His voice rising as he slapped each file down, until a hand land softly on top of his, stilling it.

 “What the hell have any of these people have to do with Sandburg?” Jim snapped, what little patience he had wearing thin. “Damn it, Simon, what’s going on?”

 “Twenty-two years ago,” Starsky leaned back in his chair, his voice so low that Jim had nudge his hearing up to catch it. “Hutch and I were part of the investigation that brought down Simon Marcus...”

 “Simon Marcus? The cult leader?” Jim found himself straining forward, vague memories of news stories flashing through his memory.

 The knot in Starsky’s stomach tightened as he remembered the horrors they’d found. “We were the arresting officers...” his voice faltered and he exchanged a glance with his friend that bespoke shared pain. “God, I can’t even begin to tell you what we found there. After all this time, everything we’ve seen as cops, none of it, not one other unholy terror compares to what they were doing. We managed to arrest Marcus and most of the cult’s hierarchy, or so we thought. It took eight months to bring Marcus to trial and convict him of the nine murders we could pin on him.”

 A sudden spike in Hutchinson’s pulse drew Jim’s attention. The man was reaching for a glass of water with a hand that trembled so slightly that even with his senses Jim could almost believe it was his imagination.

 “Hutch?” Somehow, Starsky had picked up on his partner’s discomfort as well, reaching out to gently touch Hutch’s back. The move was so intimate and familiar that for a moment Jim found himself leaning into the comforting hand that was always there when he needed it, turning to catch the smile that always offered support and encouragement, only to find it missing. A chill worked its way down his spine as he turned back to the two men.

 “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” The blond man waved off his friend’s concern and turned to Jim. “At the sentencing hearing, they got into the court house somehow and...” there it was again, that telltale spike in his pulse, a slight increase in respiration, “they kidnapped Starsky. Right from under our noses, right from under my nose.”

 “Hutch.” This time the warm voice held a note that was at once both supportive and concerned. “Don’t.”

 “Yeah, I know,” in a tone that clearly said he didn’t agree, “it wasn’t my fault.” Brushing a hand across his face, he looked up at Jim and continued, “When we found Starsky, the remaining cult leaders were holding him at an old, closed down city zoo. But that wasn’t all we found. God, if we’d had any idea...” his voice cracked, “they were holding children there. Thirteen children. Jesus Christ, you’d think that someone, some parent, grandparent, teacher, someone would’ve reported at least one of those children missing. The things they did to those children...”

 Starsky reached to pull Joseph Spinelli’s folder out and dropped it on top again. When he finished flipping through the first few pages, Jim found himself looking down at a picture a thin, young boy. Hunched in the corner of what appeared to be a cave, he was covered in filth, welts and bruises showing through the torn clothes he wore.

 “Damn,” Jim swore softly, his heart breaking for the scared little boy in the pictures, “Spinelli was one of the kids?” The implication suddenly hitting him as he looked sharply at the two shrewd pairs of eyes studying him. “All of them?”

 “Yes.” Hutchinson turned the pages in the next file. “It took over a week for anyone to make the connection between the disappearances and Marcus’ escape.”

 Feeling the cold dread that had started in the pit of his stomach spreading outward, Jim looked to Simon for support, afraid to ask the next question, not wanting to hear the answer he already knew. The brief flash of pain in Simon’s eyes before he turned away only confirmed Jim’s fear. Taking a deep breath, he asked. “Blair?”

 No words were spoken as another file was pushed in front of him. Worn, the edges tattered with age and use, the precise letters, written in neat block, everything about the file seemed to mock Jim, daring him to open it. In that moment, he found he couldn’t. Couldn’t open it. Couldn’t look at the words, the pictures. Couldn’t know that once, somewhere, someone had hurt Blair and that he’d been unable to stop it, hadn’t even known about it.

 But he had to look, didn’t he? Had to know if he was going to help, going to stop this from happening again. And so, slowly, so slowly that no one could tell it contained the same slight tremble that Hutchinson’s had just moments before, Jim’s hand reached out and touched the file. He ran his finger across the faded letters: Sandburg, Blair, as though it that could somehow change them. Then, with an almost too casual flick of his wrist, he opened it.

 Jim slammed his eyes shut at the sight that greeted him, as if those thin tissues of flesh could block out the image that was now seared into his brain. The sight of that achingly tiny boy, curled into a corner, his small body covered in bruises, painfully thin ribs straining against flesh that seemed stretched to the breaking point. And then there were the eyes, eyes that Jim recognized despite the intervening years and the changes they’d brought, eyes that should be full of joy and wonder, but only held fear.

 “Simon, I...” Jim closed his eyes against a flood of emotion, anger and fear warring with pain and regret. “I can’t look at this.”

 “Jim, I’m sorry.” The compassion in Simon’s eyes almost undid him. “I should’ve warned you. But...” he shook his head and turned away, whispering softly. “But how do you prepare someone for that.”

 A hand gripped his arm, squeezing briefly before pulling away. “Me too. I should’ve taken the pictures out. You didn’t need to see that, no one does.” Starsky shuffled through the file, removing a handful of photographs before handing it back to Jim. “Just the reports, if you think...” He left the thought unfinished, shrugging apologetically.

 Trying hard to check his emotions, Jim opened the file again, running a professional eye over the reports, ignoring the pang in his heart at what each methodically catalogued injury had meant to the little boy who was now his best friend. Closing it again, Jim pushed aside the nagging voice in the back of his head proclaimed there was something missing and focused his attention on Starsky and Hutchinson.

 “Why?”

 The question, spoken coldly, startled the two visitors and they exchanged a quick glance before Hutch asked. “Why what?”

 “Why help him? After everything Marcus and his followers did to these kids, why would Spinelli help him escape?” Catching the silent, almost imperceptible signals that flew between them, Jim knew there was still more they hadn’t told him. “And why kidnap the other children? What could they possibly want from them after all this time”

 Hutchinson’s pulse spike again and Jim turned a laser fine glare on him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

 “They weren’t kidnapped, at least not that we can prove.” Hutch slumped back in his chair, rubbing his face. “At least one we know wasn’t. Kristine Anderson was in protective custody in Portland, three days ago she answered the phone and then hit the officer guarding her over the head with a lamp and disappeared.”

 “So, she was in on it, went voluntarily?”

 “No, she was... From every report, the girl was terrified when the Portland PD picked her up and told her what was going on. She didn’t remember a lot of what happened, but enough to be scared. She went into protective custody willingly, gladly.” Hutch shifted uncomfortably, making eye contact once more. “Until she got that phone call, a phone call that shouldn’t have gotten through to her at the safe house, she was fine. Afterward... the officer said that she just went blank, like there was no one there.”

 “What the hell does that mean?” Jim’s heart raced at the implications. “Are you saying that they got to her? With just a phone call?”

 “We’re not sure what happened, but...” Starsky heaved a sigh, once again breaking eye contact. “Given the sudden circumstances behind each disappearance, the out-of-character nature of them... We know that the cult was usin’ brainwashing techniques back in the 70s and the docs figure that maybe the kids are reacting to some kind of post-hypnotic suggestion that was planted in ‘em before they were rescued. Now all they gotta do is call the kids and activate it.”

 “Naomi.” Jim suddenly sat upright in his chair. “I knew something was wrong with her. She was too desperate to get Blair out there this morning. She has to know that something’s wrong.”

 “You think she’s trying to protect Sandburg?” Simon asked dubiously.

 “If she is, it’s about time.” Jim’s eyes narrowed angrily as they drifted over the folder bearing Blair’s name. “How the hell could she let this happen, Simon? I know she wasn’t the most attentive mother, but for Christ’s sake, how the hell could she let something like this happen to her own child?”

 “I don’t know, Jim.” Pain shone in Simon’s eyes as he thought of his own son. “I can’t even begin to imagine.”

 “Wait a second.” Hutch snapped his fingers and reached across the table for the file. “Who did you say this Naomi person was?”

 “Blair’s mother.” Jim replied, scorn coloring his tone.

 “Not according to this.” Hutch flipped quickly through the pages, pointing insistently at the relevant line.

 “What are you talking about?” Jim snatched the file back, quickly scanning the page.

 Name: Blair Alonso Sandburg

DOB: 12/27/69      Age: 7

Father: Unknown

Mother: Deceased

 * * *

 “Blair, honey, you’re not eating.” Naomi reproved gently, cupping a hand over her son’s. “What’s wrong?”

 “Besides the fact that you won’t tell me what’s going on?” Blair turned his hand over to grasp hers. “Mom, I know there’s something more going on here than just your wanting to spend time with me. What is it?”

 “Yes, sweetie, you’re right, there is.” Extracting her hand, she reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear before patting his cheek. “But I’ve already promised to tell you all about it once we get to the cabin. I’m talking about whatever else is bothering you. Blair, sweetie, I can tell just by looking at you that something is wrong. You’re too pale, too thin. What’s wrong?”

 Blair looked at his mother for a long moment, as if weighing his choices, before shrugging and pulling away. “There was an accident, a few weeks ago. I guess I’m still recovering.”

 “Accident?” Naomi’s breath caught in her throat as she looked at her son’s pallid features. “What kind of accident? Does this have something to do with your work with Jim?”

 “Yes, no... Not exactly. It’s a long story, Mom. And I don’t think I’m really ready to talk about it yet.” He shifted uncomfortably and recaptured her hand. “The short version is Jim and I kind of had a falling out and we both said and did somethings we shouldn’t have and we’re still trying to put the friendship back together.”

 “Oh, sweetie, I know how much Jim means to you,” Naomi squeezed the hand holding hers and sighed. “My timing couldn’t have been worse, could it?”

 “Actually, Mom,” Blair laughed gently. “It could’ve been a lot worse considering. Besides, maybe some time apart will do us good. It seems like lately we’re either trying too hard to act normal or sniping at each other.” He shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable with the turn their conversation had taken, and pushed his plate away. “What do you say we get this circus on the road again?”

 “You’re right,” she sighed, gathering her belongs. “We still have a long drive in front of us. I’m just going to freshen up.”

 “Okay, I’ll meet you at the car.” Blair dropped some money on the table and started to slip his wallet in his back pocket before catching sight of a payphone across the restaurant. Pulling out his calling card, he walked over and quickly dialed.

 * * *

 “Major Crime.”

 “Hey, Henri, is Jim around?”

 “Hairboy, is that you?” Henri swiveled around in his chair, grinning gleefully at the sight of Jim shut away in Captain Banks’ office with the two federal task force agents. “Man, Simon was not happy to find out you’d skipped on this morning’s meeting.”

 “Damn. I was afraid that would happen. How loud was he?”

 “Loud,” Henri confirmed. “Just about took Ellison’s head off.”

 “Maybe I should head back...”

 “Where are you?”

 “A restaurant outside of Yelm.”

 “What’re you doing all the way out there?” Henri asked, rifling around in his top desk drawer.

 “That’s a good question.”

 “What?”

 “Going... somewhere with my mom. She showed up on our doorstep this morning to whisk me away for a long weekend of family bonding.”

 Henri burst into laughter. “I’ve seen your mother, Hairboy, I’d take a weekend in the mountains with her over a meeting between Jim and the Feds any day.”

 “Henri, man, she’s my mom. Cut that out. Listen, can you tell Jim I called? I’ll let him know where we’re headed as soon as I know.”

 “You got it Sandburg, later man.”

 * * *

 Jim stepped out of Simon’s office, pale and grim, making his way, woodenly, over to his desk and sat down heavily.

 God damn, he needed a drink. Jim couldn’t remember the last time he’d needed a drink to numb the horrors his job brought to him everyday, probably the night Lila died, but he’d just about sell his soul for one right now. For anything to help dim the memory of that thin, battered little boy and eyes that should only know joy filled with terror.

 “Jim? Man, are you all right?” Henri stood next to his desk, brow furled in concern. “I called you a couple times.”

 “Sorry, H. Yeah, I’m fine, just...” He waved a hand in the direction of Simon’s office. “This case is...” He trailed off, staring back through the blinds at Starsky and Hutchinson sorting through the files.

 “Ugly, huh?” When Jim nodded, Henri just shook his head. “Sorry, man. Listen, I just wanted to pass on a message from Sandburg. He wanted you to know—”

 “Sandburg?” Jim’s head whipped around audibly and he glared up at Brown. “When did you talk to Sandburg?”

 “About twenty minutes ago,” Henri replied, puzzled by the sudden change in Ellison’s attitude. “You were in with Captain Banks and the Feds.”

 “And you didn’t call me?” Jim snapped, rising angrily to his feet.

 “I told you, you were in with Simon and—”

 “I don’t give a damn who the hell I was in with, you should’ve called me.” Jim’s voice rose with every word.

 “Ellison.” Simon stood in the doorway of his office, glaring at his detective. “What’s the problem?”

 “Brown talked to Sandburg,” Jim ground out, pointing an accusatory finger at the other detective.

 “You what? When?” Simon demanded, the two Feds crowding in behind him.

 “I talked to Hairboy on the phone. What’s going on, Captain?” Henri asked, concerned. “Why the big deal about my talking to Sandburg?”

 “Did he say where he was?” Starsky pushed in between Jim and Simon.

 “Yeah, he said he was in a restaurant outside of Yelm.” Henri answered. “Simon, is Sandburg in some kind of trouble?”

 “We think he might be. Did he give you any idea where he was headed?”

 “No.” Henri shook his head in disgust. “He only said to let Jim know he called and that he’d try and call back when he knew where they were going. Jim, man, I’m sorry. If I’d had any idea that Sandburg was in some kind of trouble, I’d’ve got you right away.”

 “I know. I shouldn’t have come down on you like that,” Jim admitted apologetically. “I’m just worried.”

 “Yeah, I hear you, man.”

 “Okay, listen up people, I don’t want to have to repeat myself.” Simon stood in the middle of the bullpen, making sure he had everyone’s attention before continuing. “If anyone here takes a call from Sandburg, you find Detective Ellison or myself right away. Do not let him off the line. Is everyone clear on that?” A round of affirmations followed.

 “Captain Banks, this Yelm, where is it?” Hutch asked, following his partner and Jim back into the captain’s office.

 “It’s a small town about thirty, thirty-five miles South of here.” Simon pulled a map out of his filing cabinet and spread it out on the conference table. “Here.” He pointed to the spot on the map.

 “Is there anywhere around there that you think they could be going?” Starsky traced the line of freeways leading to the small dot on the map.

 “Nothing I can remember Sandburg bringing up,” Jim replied thoughtfully. “And from there they could be headed to any number of out of the way places. Up into the mountains to one of the National Parks or Forests, back over to I-5 and down into Oregon. Damn it, I should’ve stuck around and found out where Naomi was taking him.”

 “She probably wouldn’t have told you the truth anyway,” Hutch pointed out, turning to his partner. “What now?”

 “That’s up to Captain Banks.” Starsky watched him expectantly. “We’d like to stick around here, with your permission. Sandburg’s the last kid on the list, and the hardest to track down. I think if we’re going to have any hope of findin’ the others or Marcus it’s gonna be through him.”

 “We’d appreciate any support you’d be willing to lend us.” Simon replied, glancing significantly at his detective. “Have you checked into your hotel yet?”

 “No, we were kind of hoping we wouldn’t be staying that long,” Hutch sighed, rubbing long fingers across his forehead. “We should probably check in with the task force, too, let Franks know what’s going down.”

 “Ellison, forward your calls to your cell and tell Brown I want to see him in here. I want him to get started calling all of the contacts listed for Naomi in Sandburg’s personnel file. Then make sure Captains Starsky and Hutchinson get settled in their hotels,” Simon directed. “When you get back we’ll see what Brown’s come up with and see if you can come up with anyone else Sandburg’s mentioned.”

 “Contact list?” Hutchinson questioned. “You don’t just have a number you can call?”

 “For Naomi?” Simon snorted softly. “Not hardly. Ms. Sandburg travels quite frequently, usually to some of the more exotic locations. It makes it hard to find her when she isn’t trying to get lost.”

 “Makes her hard to find when her son needs her,” Jim muttered angrily.

 “Jim,” Simon warned softly.

 “Whatever,” Jim replied curtly. “I’m going to go transfer my calls, let me know when you’re ready.”

 “Mind if I ask what that was about?” Starsky motioned toward the closed door.

 “We’ve had a hard time getting a hold of Ms. Sandburg after Blair was injured on a couple of cases,” Simon explained. “Detective Ellison is a bit... protective of his partner, he tends to take things like that a little more personally than Sandburg does.”

 “I can understand that,” Hutch said softly, exchanging a knowing glance with his partner.

 * * *

 Jim leaned against the wall outside of the hotel room Starsky and Hutchinson had just checked into, carefully extending his hearing to pick up on their conversation.

 “What do you think of Ellison?”

 “Seems like a good cop to me. Really seems to care about the kid.”

 “You don’t think it’s a little strange that a former army ranger just happened to lose his partner at a time like this?”

 “Hey, you lost me once in a crowded court house.”

 “That’s not funny, Starsk!”

 “I know, Babe, but it’s true. I think Ellison’s a good cop who got caught in somethin’ none of us are prepared to deal with and I think you’re takin’ too much responsibility for this on yourself.”

      * * *

 Hutch jumped from the car, not even taking time to turn off the ignition, and scrambled around the front, his long legs eating up the distance between him and the horrifying tableau in front of him. With each hurried, pounding step, he could hear the sounds in front of him, the low fervent chanting of the cult members, grow louder, “Si-mon. Si-mon. Si-mon,” filling his ears.

 But it wasn’t the black robed figured that transfixed him, driving a cold spike of terror through his chest. It was a tiny slip of girl, red hair flowing across her simple white gown, and the knife she held above her head, poised to strike. It was the sight of his partner, his best friend, helpless before her, his hands tethered over his head.

 Even as he ran, legs pumping, lungs straining, he knew he was going to be too late. Too late. Too late. And then, there it was, the flash of morning sun against the blade as it moved in an inexorable arc, down, down, until the only sounds he heard were the soft sickening squelch of the blade sinking into vulnerable flesh and Starsky’s cry of pain.

 “NO!” The cry was torn from his throat as Starsky lifted eyes already fogged with pain to meet his. A brief second of recognition passed between them before those eyes slid silently, permanently, shut. “NO! STARSKY! NOOOOOOOOO!”

 "Hutch! Hutch!" Strong arms wrapped around the sobbing man, holding him close, "Hutch, come on, babe, wake up. It's just a nightmare, that's all," Starsky soothed, rocking his partner gently as he held him tight, "Just a nightmare. I'm right here."

 “Starsk?” Hutch clutched weakly

   Sentinel, Too – part 1: May 20 1998

New Moon – May 25th, 1998/June 24th, 1998/July 23rd,1998

Full Moon – June 10th, 1998/July 9th, 1998

Bloodbath - Judge Arlen B. Yager

[mitterstorm]

Dance For Me

Chapter 1

“Finally we are here today to seek and to receive comfort. We would be less than honest if we said that our hearts have not ached over this situation. We are not too proud to acknowledge-

You couldn’t take it anymore, just by standing here listening to that preach addressed his departure. Your knees feel weak and your eyes burn, but you refuse to make a scene, taking deep breaths while clenching your fists is helping you calm down.

Still, it’s not enough.

You want to scream again just as you did when you saw his body limp against yours, scratch your arms in attempts of making the pain and hurt go away. To drift your mind from these ugly feelings.

A sick way of coping indeed, teensy bit of self-harm ain't going to kill you. It helps you somehow, preventing yourself from breaking even further in a public place like the cemetery.

Finally, you regain control of yourself and shift back to the preacher. Unfortunately, he concluded, now you have to prepare for the worse.  

Henry, who is your most precious friend, is dead. His body was being carried away in the concealment of a coffin; he said his last farewell to you early in the morning when you ate breakfast with him, offering your company so he wouldn't feel alone, regain some strength by appreciation itself.

Something was up that morning; the old fart was more talkative than usual and flashed a smile here and there. You are at fault for not noticing from the start. You should have been more perceptive and observant; you are keen on people after all, especially when he gave you that look as if he was parting ways with you. He didn’t fight death, accepted it as embracing a hug from an old friend. That thought alone fills your head with doubt.

Was he even happy when he left?

 Did he feel satisfied with the life he lived?

 Were you enough?

 Fuck, you never would've imagined his passing will affect you this much.

<<You old geezer, why were you so kind to me? Why did we let ourselves get attached?>>

The time is near, you will eventually have to confront him with all of these people staring at you, but you need to be strong for sake. You are what’s left of his loved ones. Linda died long ago. They never had a chance to procreate and bring a new life, Joey went mad or something along those lines.

Just like the rest of the crew, and he didn’t make any friends while he was on service for the military. If he did, they were dead. He didn’t like to talk about it.

<<I tried to make you happy, make you feel at ease as you did for me>>

Yet he kept secrets from you, of course, you respected his wishes and didn’t pry any further.

However, it stung.

<<Now it’s not time to reminisce, there’s nothing to reminisce for me at the moment>>

They called your name to the front; you ran out of time. It’s your turn. Is your first time burying someone, yes, you have assisted other burials besides this one, but now you are who’s lost a loved one. Those past times were favors people close to you had asked a long time ago; they said it felt nice to have somebody there when someone else is missing in their lives. In other words, you were there as comfort. A shoulder they could use to cry and lean on.

Hesitant, you take away from the burier’s grasp his shovel and with a gulp. You start shoveling some dirt into the hole were Henry’s coffin lies.

<<Shit, I can’t stop trembling! Come on, stop being a pussy and get over with this!>>

Despite that, your body wouldn’t obey, it made you look clumsy. No matter how much you lied to yourself.

You are scared.

After burying Henry, your vision goes black.

Waking up tomorrow morning at home without a clue of how you got there made your mind fuzzy.

How fun.

You try to get up, but end up failing.

“Fuuuuuck! Why do I feel like absolute shit! Everything hurts!” These feel just like a hangover. Why does it feel like one? Did you go to a bar once Henry’s funeral ended? How much did you drink?

“Enough to blackout it appears,” You say under your breath. Of course, your dumb ass would go to a bar and get drunk to cope with the pain! An upcoming headache awaits you for being arbitrary, instead of showing apprehension towards the situation and mourn, as you should, your voice of reason zonked out. “I reek of booze. Agh, it stinks”.

No more addressing what happened yesterday; feeling like trash isn't doing you any good. Henry would have called you out on your bullshit.

"Stop whining like a whore and man up, chum! I'll buy you a drink. Later we can relax and cut you some slack, nothing a magsman like myself can't do".

“Ok boomer,” You said in a humdrum tone, at least it made you laugh internally. “lo and behold, this will be a shitty morning-err afternoon, it’s 1 PM, I thought it was too early to be awake”.

That means it’s time for brunch.

Must compel your stomach desires, eat a lot little of food. Therefore, you'll have to leave the bed, go downstairs where the kitchen is; you force yourself out of the comfiness that are your covers. So you walk out of the room barefoot towards the kitchen. You open the fridge faking interest with whatever is inside and close it, then repeat, only that this time you pay a little more of attention.

You grab the water pitcher and pour some in a glass, then look for oatmeal and toss three spoonfuls of it at the water, after that you chuck a spoonful of sugar and mix it. A simple drink full of roughage. It’ll suffice for now.

*Clink clink*

Metal hitting porcelain serves you as a white noise to rearrange your thoughts. Yesterday was hectic and had your mind high wire, you were thinking about the old man; how long have you two been friends? Five or six years more or less, you met each other by autumn at a hospital. On that occasion, you were merely an intern in the middle of their practice and had to change sheets, deliver meals, give them their meds and reassure they took them at the time the doctors had said. Like a nurse or carer (the difference it’s you possess more knowledge than one and can prescribe medication, it was also part of your duty as a trainee assisting the doctors with whatever you could). That’s how both of you came face to face with.

Mr. Stein was sick and injured. He needed to tend some wounds since they required special treatment. Battle scars, you didn’t know at the time, however, as days passed, you became close to him, he told you how he got them; the biggest can be found on his back.  

Unfortunately, a sharp pain arose, preventing you from wandering further in the past. You had forgotten about your headache, which it’s more noticeable now, you are sure there aren’t any pills left.

“I ain’t leaving being this crappy, besides I don’t feel like moving right now…” Your eyelids are heavy and keeping them open, it’s such a pain, so you shut ‘em in hopes of relaxing for a little bit. Leaning your back on the kitchen island while drinking your beverage, its coldness helping you somehow with the throb.

Once again, your mind wanders.

Thanks to it, you know where to find some ibuprofen.

“Are these the ones?” You asked while holding a box for him to see, squinting Henry finally recognized the packet.

“What’s it called again?” He questioned, rubbing his head to ease the ache a bit. His voice raspy because of a dry throat. His normal soft tone replaced by a croaky. He’s clearly suffering.  

“Ibuprofen.” You read aloud as you’ve been asked and turn back to look at him.

“Yup, that’s the one, lass. I know I’ve bothered you enough, but could you serve me a glass of water?”

“You old coot, not a bother at all. I’ll be back with your water in a jiffy”.

The pills are somewhere inside Henry’s studio. You can do that, going upstairs isn’t as demanding as buying them, cuz leaving home means changing clothes that look presentable and aren’t dirty. Henceforth, you don’t feel in the mood for seeing the outside.

“I should stop thinking of how lazy I am and look for those meds…” Talking to yourself it’s quite common, so you ain’t no stranger to these situations.

Therefore, you took a break from your bullshit and went upstairs where Henry Stein used to draw; he passed most of his time in there, secluded from the outside world, before military service, he worked at an animation studio owned by the man he once considered his best friend, Joey Drew was his name if your memory doesn’t fail you.

Your friend called him a bastard, never explained why only responded by saying: “He lost his mind.”

Nevertheless, Henry kept drawing cartoons, and sometimes, he would let you watch him sketch and answered your questions. He carried on with his old comics he left unfinished long ago. The same he had drawn back thirty years ago. The main characters are three little fellas: Bendy, Alice Angel, and Boris. Henry said they animated their adventures and later on, added side characters. The Butcher Gang, if you recall, also consists of a trio: Charley, Barley, and Edgar.

When Henry started storytelling, you felt like a kid back again, he could’ve marked your childhood just as the rest of animators who made those toons while you were a child. Oh, how you treasured these memories, you’ll never forget the time you spent together.

Evoking past times has helped to soothe your headache an itty-bitty, yet you still need to find the ibuprofen.

“Where could it be…” You asked to no one, hoping the walls may respond, even though it’ll never happen.

Seeking everywhere you soon turned the room upside down, papers on the floor resembling a carpet, art supplies rolling across the table (pencils, colors, pens, paintbrushes, blending stumps, etc.) and some books based on anatomy and animation were disorganized on their bookshelves. It all ended after you opened a drawer (this one didn’t need your touch, it was already a disorder) and found what you were looking for, and because of your rashness, more papers fell on the floor.

“Damn, what a mess…” You muttered under your breath a little irritated with yourself for being so careless while searching. You collected the papers and put them in order back again one by one, because of it you grew curious and read some of them, a letter grabbed your attention.

It was one of those fancy letters with a seal and all (what does it say? Seems of importance).

You don’t consider yourself nosy, just interested in its contents.

<<From Joey Drew? Huh, looks like your old buddy send you his salutations after all this time>>

Oh, you had no idea.

Henry knew about the letter, he already read it and did as they told him. The old studio where they used to make dreams come true transformed into a living hell.

‘DEAR HENRY

IT SEEMS LIKE A LIFETIME AGO SINCE WE WORKED ON CARTOONS TOGETHER.

30 YEARS REALLY SLIPS AWAY, DOESN’T IT?

IF YOU ARE BACK IN TOWN, COME VISIT THE OLD WORKSHOP.

THERE’S SOMETHING I NEED TO SHOW YOU.

YOUR BEST PAL, JOEY DREW’.

You finished reading the letter.

*Snrk*

Well shit.

Did you just read a confession or a love letter? Why not both? You don’t know why, but it feels like one.

“Okay, let’s stop right there. I can’t make jokes on circumstances as these ones”.

What could be so urgent for Joey to write a letter after thirty years of silence?

Should you investigate?

<<The letter could’ve been sent years ago! Henry surely read it; otherwise, it wouldn’t be inside a drawer of his studio, though there’s a possibility he didn’t, I doubt it. He must have seen his friend has written message>>

Okay, sure. Let’s suppose he didn’t pay any mind to the damn thing, you can pretend, now the real issue it’s the location. Joey Drew Studios must be closed (or broken down into pieces, you didn’t know if they decided to demolish the whole building).

“Wake up ___! Face reality, you shouldn’t be fantasizing, this ain’t some silly story with you as a heroine…instead of wasting my time, I shall swallow that damn pill and take some zzz’s”.

You left Henry’s solace and went to bed once again after you swallowed the pill with some water. A dreamless sleep greeted you.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bendy’s POV

“ん乇'丂 ムの刀乇”.

Even though he should be celebrating, the Inkarnate can’t seem to find any joy in his being, no emotion tried to overtake him. Why? He doesn’t feel anything. True, he may not possess all the emotions a human has, but anger, joy, sadness, and hysteria weren’t unbeknownst him. There’s no satisfaction nor sorrow towards his creator’s death, not even an ounce of regret. Ok no, he won’t sense any guilt for what happened to Henry, he deserved to die just as much as Joey, but he was grasping straws in here!

How’s it possible to not perceive the slightest of emotion within himself?

The Ink Demon was turning apathetic in regards to the subject; he didn’t have an answer as to why. One thing he’s sure of, his world turned dull no longer exciting as he thought.

It was as if the little dancing demon had opened his eyes for the first time, after all those years blinded by the dripping ink, before that, he only saw what his mind showed him. He finally realized how monochromatic his world truly is.

All is black and white for the demon’s eyes.

A wave of indifference invades his mind and his mind is fuzzy, he dissolves into his inky form and rests.

However, not for much.

“-aHahaHAhahaHahaHAhaha!”

Alice.

That bitch.

He despises her nearly as much as those liars, yet the little devil darling couldn’t give a damn about her right now. Let her laugh all she wants as the malady she’s. The Angel probably got the word, celebrating, unlike him.

Immersing himself even more inside the ink, he found…peace. He can work with that, serenity aids his jumbled thoughts; darkness envelopes him and swallows his body whole.

<<In the end…I feel empty. Is this how revenge it’s supposed to be like?>>

He can’t respond to that, how could he? He doesn’t even know what’s life supposed to feel like.

<<Their imagination cursed us all with life, they couldn’t take responsibility for their actions and show us how to drive through it>>

Back when he was the small little imp everybody loved, there were all kind of colors, unlike now. The studio felt warm in contrast to all the ink that surrounds it now.

The remains of those old days lurk inside the deep abyss as ink creatures, husks who replaced the humans that worked here.

Thinking about it got him tired, Bendy finds himself drifting from consciousness, he’s falling asleep.

“Was it worth it?”

<<Again that cunt>> Despite his thoughts, the Inkarnate didn’t feel irascible towards the narcissist woman. Actually, there isn’t much for him to perceive.

She’s not in here, she wouldn’t dare to step a foot on his domain. The wench had the nerve of placing her cutouts and posters; he destroyed a few just as she did the same. She is communicating with him using a damaged poster with her face.

“I know you can hear me, demon, don’t fake pretend.”

“Wんﾘ りの ﾘのひ ᄃﾑ尺乇?” He hopes to scare her, even though he knows it won’t work while using his beast form for some reason his speech turns nightmarish. Yet he doesn’t wield it often because of how difficult is controlling his instincts. Thoughts become more primal, talking it’s hard after a few hours transformed in it gets tiring, and he can’t measure his own force. He favors his inky form best: practical and gets the job done.

“I don’t”. So she’s just shitting with him, insufferable.

“Then why ask?”

“Spirit of inquiry. Your relationship intrigues me, up there in Heaven, we get curious as to why you didn’t kill him yourself. And don’t even try to justify your actions. You had many opportunities. The little errand boy nearly ends up killing you, he tried the same with me”.

After listening to what the Angel had to said, his permanent smile turned slowly into a frown. It’s never a good thing when the Lord ain’t wearing one.

“…”

“Well?”

The fallen angel is laughing at him.

“Not even you know the reason behind your acts of mercy!” He remains silent, it’s not like she’s wrong, the little devil does not why he was so resilient with Henry.

After that fiasco, she left him be.

Thanks to Alice’s short visit, Bendy finds questioning why she dropped by. They hate one another, true. She has eyes here and there, but it’s to keep him in line, so he won’t cross an inky limb on her domain. Unlike the female cartoon, he does not have any cutouts, posters, plushies, or ink servants near her place. He wants nothing to do with her. That’s why he finds it so unusual, it’s not like her.

Unless…

She fancies something he has.

<<If that bitch knows what’s good for her, she won’t be picking her nose in my business>>

Later he’ll do his rounds throughout the studio, maybe, the imp will find what she’s searching before she does, whatever it may be, he won’t let her have it.

He’ll make sure of it.

Who knows what her deranged mind has planned; he’s tired of the gruesome scenery this place is in, corpses all around, clones of his ol’ friend bring back unsavory images from the past. Oh, Lawrence, he’s a madman, made satanic circles as a way of showing his devotion towards the black devil. Thanks to Sammy, he has eyes in nearly the entire place.

Yes, he’s aware the musician it’s alive, but Sammy Lawrence continues being of use for him.

<<I’ll take care of him when I wake up…>>

He’s exhausted. However, he stays on his beast form sunken in ink.

The demon’s slumber it’s a peaceful one…

.

   .

   .

   .

   .

   Until you enter his kingdom.

 An animalistic rumble shakes the tinted walls.

 He’s coming for you.

  ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three days.

You paced on the issue for three days, until you finally had an answer.

“I’m gonna pay a visit to your ol’ pal, maybe he’s still alive…or not…” You lowered your voice in the last part; Henry called Joey a bastard and accused him of being mentally unstable, you trust his word, but what if…what if he changed? There’s a possibility he redeemed himself and went through a rehabilitation process to help him with his instability.

<<I need to look for the address and from there I’ll see what can be done>>

You googled ‘Joey Drew Studios’ on your phone and within seconds Google Maps showed up, you were going to click at it, but then something catches your eye.

An article and it’s quite old.

‘Joey Drew Studios, also known as the workshop. Is an American corporation and an animation studio of the Bendy franchise, established in 1929.

Founded by Joey Drew and Henry Stein in an unknown full date other than the year of 1929, Joey Drew Studios is located at Broadway, Brooklyn, New York City, New York.

In 1946, Joey Drew Studios was under investigation after reports of hazardous work environments, missing employees, harassment, and excessive back pay, as well the company's danger of being bankrupt, all of which are a result of Joey's mismanagement of the studio. Anonymous employees threatened to make labor unions over the poor conditions, which included unpermitted buildings, hazardous electrical wiring, and a plumbing system prone to bursting. In addition, there were excessive work hours, most of which were unpaid and several animators were unable to see their families in weeks, after being threatened with disciplinary action and termination if they were unable to finish animations on tight schedules.

There were reports of barricaded offices, employees locked up in work spaces, and complaints of crazy malfunctioning machinery. Despite the evidence against the company, Joey Drew remained firm that the studio has done nothing wrong, calling the accusations "preposterous" and "ridiculous", dismissing them as either complaint from menial employees, or feeble attempts by competing studios to discredit Joey.

On August 16, 1959, the law firm known as Snooks, Spitner and Snooks sued Joey Drew, having heard the rumors of Joey's mismanaging of his own workers. 12 days later, the studio was closed down in accordance to legal regulation 11 U.S Code § 1125 (which forbids the misrepresentation of legally established companies) as evident by the bankruptcy report found in Joey's apartment, as well as health and safety concerns directly by the mention of a health and safety board meeting schedule found in the appointment lobby.’

Oof.

<<That’s a lot to take in>>

Why the fuck would Henry’s friend would want to meet at that nightmare show? Has he learned nothing after all this years? And not only that, the sucker it´s/was an abusive prick with his employees!

<<Man, you weren’t joking>>

You fear a screw lose isn’t Joey’s only problem.

<<He sounds like an asshole, I don’t want to put up with his shit...I’ve got enough dealing with people like him on a daily basis. Sure, not everyone it’s an ass and there’s some decent/kind people out there, but handling jerks as the likes of him tires me out>>

Sometimes you aren’t the most patient person, it all depends. But this whole ordeal it’s too much for you.

<<The studio is in the big city, New York it’s fucking expensive. I don’t have the money for travelling that far, I’ll have to bid on my savings and package supplies for the journey>>

Crap. Three days and you didn’t think all of this through! How can you be so stupid?!

Now this looks like one of those impulsive decisions you take for being careless and inattentive.

<<How could Henry put up with me when not even I can stand myself?!>>

You need an adult, that’s what you ought to have beside you.

Your life is such a mess sometimes…

“Before spending money on my idiocy I should read more and prepare myself.” You mutter angrily to yourself.

That’s exactly what you did the next two days, finally you are ready for departing.

You grab your backpack and the car’s keys. “Cellphone in the front pocket, all that’s left is open the door, lock it and call Abby, easy.”

During those two days you made a few calls and went up for gas, it was going to be a long trip from Miami to New York. Sure, it ain’t that extensive, but you’ll be driving by yourself for approximately 20 hours. A place to stay, money, gasoline and food are big girl’s problems. Not counting the money you’ll spend on a cheap motel to rest your head.

“That or make a few stops on gas stations…maybe sleeping in the car won’t be that bad…” The good thing is you have options; you aren’t tied solely to one alternative.  

<<Abby won’t charge me for doing me this favor, another plus>>

She’ll guard the house in your absence and will call if any emergency transpires.

Now, you are free to go.

<<I hope I made a good decision doing this>>

The first 8 hours were a torment, bored and your ass felt numb of sitting for that long, the last time you remained that still was in high school, since you made your schedule. Your feet hurt just as your arms did. You made a stop for eating and going to the bathroom, after that another 8 hours.

Overall, the journey was relaxing, while driving you admired the views offered to you, savoring each sight. It helped you keeping away some melancholy.

You miss Henry, no matter how much you tried to distract yourself with this excursion of yours, the emptiness stays in the back of your mind.

Your wounds are still fresh, you haven’t mourned properly, because you don’t want to. That’s why you are doing this, to keep yourself busy so you won’t think about it. You need it, you ain’t prepared for it yet.

Soon you’ll be.

After a short nap (before that you made many stops, ‘cuz you’re a whining bitch who ain’t strong enough to control her fucking bladder), you started driving again. You have three or four hours left on the road.

Time to listen some music, you activate Bluetooth and connect your phone to the car’s stereo, finally you found a song of your liking in Spotify and play it. You spent the rest of the trip singing along; sometimes you’ll speed up a little bit on the spur of the moment.

Soon you got to your destination, didn’t waste time changing clothes, you collapsed on the bed in the motel and slept for an hour. After that, you washed yourself and got ready for visiting Joey Drew.

“Here goes nothing…”

You regret already coming here, silly you just ruined a change of clothes! Why is there so much ink? You’ll never get out the ink of your shoes, fuck! You have been here for less than ten minutes and all went to shit for you! It doesn’t help this place keeps giving you the heebies-jeebies! Every time you take a step on the creaky wooden floor it feels as if someone is following you, like a slithering sound. The ink splashes keep creeping you out, if it wasn’t black you would think it’s blood, Jesus Christ.

<<Thank God, the lights still work; it would make this place spookier if they didn’t>>

As you venture further deeper into the studio, a beast rumbles, shaking everything around you, more ink drops fall.

At that moment…

…you knew you fucked up.

So you hide.

Your mind provides you one last thought before going high drive

‘WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?! WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?!’

<<FUUU-

[cruecifymesixx]

Love and Leather /part four/

Word count: 1.8k

A/N: Thank you all for the kind words I’ve been receiving over this story, it makes my cold heart warm. I’m off work today so I’ll try to bust out a few chapters, before I return tomorrow...I have a busy week ahead.

Warnings: um, none for this part.

July 82’

I had just arrived at the Dallas airport and my driver was putting my suitcase in the trunk while I got inside the car.

“It’s nice to have you home, Miss. Blackwood.” I smiled at Benny, “It’s nice to be home.” I told him and he nodded and started driving.

About forty five minutes later we arrived in front of the gates of my parents home, I sighed in contentment. As much as I hate it here, I truly did miss being home. Benny drove us up the drive way and my mom, Clarissa was already standing on the doorstep, and I got out of the car and ran up to her.

“Oh Vanity, sugar...I’ve missed you so much.” Mom said while pulling me into a tight hug and I wrapped my arms around her, “I’ve missed you too, where is daddy?” I asked her and she pulled away from me, “Daddy is out doing business right now, but your brother and sister are home.” She told me and I nodded, “Benny bring in the bags when you have a chance.” Mom ordered him and he nodded.

I walked into the Foyer, Mom had done some re-decorating while I was gone. The floors were now a shiny white marble, and the railing of the stairs were now a cast iron black, instead of the mahogany they were last year.

“Greyson! Sage! Your sister is home.” Mom yelled. I heard doors slam and then the patter of their feet against the waxed floor and then I saw my siblings come down the stairs,

“Vanny!!” My younger sister shouted and pretty much tackled me to the floor, “I missed you so much! Please take me with you!” Sage was hyped up, and I looked at my younger sister, “Maybe when you’re older!” I responded and she helped me off the floor,

“Hey Grey.” I said and gave my brother a hug, “God you’ve gotten huge! Is this all from football?” I asked him while talking about the size of his arms and shoulders, “My little brother is a Total beefcake!” I said while laughing, “Don’t test me city girl! I’ll still whoop your ass.” He said while grabbing my head and putting me in a head lock and I started punching his back

“Enough children, Van are you hungry? I had Loretta prepare lunch.” Mom asked and I playfully shoved my brother away,

“Yeah, I could eat.” I responded, “Loretta! Please bring everything to the back patio.” Mom told her and she nodded, “It’s great to see you, Vanity.” Loretta said and I smiled at her.

Soon enough we were sitting at the patio table. I looked on as the pool guy was cleaning out leaves and sweeping the tile around the pool.

“Thank you.” I said as Loretta put a plate of food in front of me, “So how is Los Angeles, sweetheart?” Mom asked me while taking a sip of her Cabernet wine, “Its a lot of fun, hectic..but I enjoy it a lot.” I explained to her, “Still at the diner?” She interrogated me, “Yes mom, and I’m still paying bills, and the townhome is still standing.” I told her and she smiled, “Good, and your roommates?” “Yes mom, still the same girls.” I told her while getting annoyed and picking at the food on the table.

“Have you met anyone famous, Vanny?” Sage asked me and I looked at her, “Um...yeah...uh Motley Crue if you listen to them.” I told her and my brother gasped and clenched his chest,

“Are you serious! Those guys are so sick! I want to go to a show but Mom won’t let me.” Greyson told me and I chuckled, “Because they are filth honey.” Mom said and I sent a glare her way but she didn’t notice,

“They’re...uh...” I stopped and chuckled, “Actually they’re my friends.” I felt weird saying that out loud, but it was true.

Before they left again for another tour, the girls and I were constantly at their mansion and hanging out with them you could say. Tonya had fallen under the spell of Vince while Lucia found an interest in both Tommy and Mick. As for me, I found myself hanging out with Nikki a little bit more, and of course we partied with them.

Mom cleared her throat and took a sip of her wine, “Your father would just love to hear that one, Vanity.” Mom said with a sarcastic tone and I rolled my eyes, “They’re actually really fun to be around.” I told her,

“Are you doing drugs, Vanity Kay?” Mom questioned me, “No. Absolutely not.” Of course I lied to her, she would kill me and cut me off financially.

“Well there’s my princess!” I looked up and saw my dad, Ryan, “Dad!” I got out of my chair and ran over to him and hugged him tightly,

What can I say? I’ve always been daddy’s little girl ever since I could walk.

“Oh it’s so good for you to be home Van. I’ve missed you.” Dad said while letting go of me and kissing my forehead, “I’ve missed you too.” I told him and then sat back down,

“Hello sweetheart.” Dad said while giving mom a kiss, “Yuck.” Sage said under her breath and I chuckled.

“What’s everyone discussing?” Dad sat down and Loretta immediately walked out and brought dad a glass of scotch on the rocks.

“Our daughter was just telling us that she has been hanging out with that band Motley Crue.” Mom said with a hint of disgust in her voice,

“Vanity...really? You couldn’t of picked a better group of people to be around?” Dad lectured me and I rolled my eyes, “Don’t roll your eyes at me young lady.” I looked at him then looked away, “Yes, sir.” I lowered my tone and looked down at my food,

“But you guys shouldn’t believe whatever you’ve been reading.” I told them quietly, “I don’t have to read anything, I know just by looking at them they are nothing but damn trouble and you shouldn’t be associating yourself with them, Damnit Vanity, you know we have to protect the family and the money.” Dad said and I huffed,

“Yeah I know. Trust me I think about it every day.” I told him.

Our family struct gold, no not real gold, black gold. We’re rich in oil, with it being the great state of Texas and all, we’ve became pretty wealthy over the last few decades starting with my great grandpa. So I grew up very sheltered, and ended up keeping the rich part of me under wraps due to obvious reasons of being used for my family’s money.

“You’re twenty one years old, I know you can make smart decisions.” Dad said and I nodded while pushing my plate away from me.

“Sage, Greyson, go inside for a few minutes while your mother and I talk to your sister.” Dad ordered them and they both got up and walked inside. Before Greyson went inside he gave me a look, a look of uncertainty and it confused me.

“Honey...” Mom said somberly, while reaching across the table and grabbing my hand, “What? What’s going on?” I asked her, while starting to panic. I looked at dad as he took a sip of his booze,

“We want you to come back home.” Mom stated, I looked back and forth between mom and dad then started laughing,

“You’re joking right?” I said while trying to control my laughter, but they just looked at me, and then at each other, “What? What do you mean come back home!? I’m not coming back home.” I said while pulling my hand away from hers,

“Sweetie...just relax.” Dad said, but I interrupted him, “No!” I stood up from the chair, “I have a life there! Friends! I have a home that I bought! I can’t just leave and come back here!” I tried to defend my reasons,

“Ryan...” mom spoke softly while looking at him, “Dad? Please don’t make me come home.” I told him and he took another sip of his scotch, “Sit down, Vanity.” Dad said and I slowly pulled the chair back underneath me.

“Vanity...princess...” Dad took a breath, “I’m sick..I have brain cancer and the doctors are only giving me six months to live.”

I stared at him. I couldn’t blink, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t form a word, let alone a sentence. I kept my eyes locked on his, trying to study his facial expressions,

“Why are you just now telling me!?” I said with tears brimming at the surface, “Honey...we didn’t want you to worry...we know how you can get sometimes.” Mom said and I rolled my eyes, “Worry? Daddy is dying!!” I yelled at them while slamming my hand on the glass table,

“I’m not coming home just to watch you die!” I yelled at dad, “Lower your damn voice!” Dads bass depended and it startled me,

“I will visit more, but please I am happy where I’m at.” I begged them, “Please?” My voice cracked and they both sighed, “I’ll visit every month, please, please don’t make me leave California. I love it there.” I spoke in almost a whisper while licking the saltiness off my lips, but I couldn’t stop the tears from coming.

“How did this happen?” I asked while finally breaking down and putting my head in my hands,

Dad came over and sat by me and pulled me into him and I just cried into his chest. “Well...I was at the yard going about daily business when I just got dizzy out of no where. Then I collapsed in front of the team, and I was rushed straight to the hospital. They thought it was just dehydration from the heat and out working.” Dad spoke softly and soothed his hand over my head,

“But I was also having very bad migraines and my pupils weren’t dilating as they should when they were shining the light into my eyes so they sent me for an MRI...and my whole head lit up like a Christmas tree.” He continued to explain and cleared his throat,

“I have tumors in my frontal and occipital lobe that are inoperable, so with this happening to me I’ve realized life is precious and it is to be cherished at all costs which is why you can stay in Los Angeles.” Dad told me and I looked up at him, “Really?” I said while wiping my tears away,

“Ryan.” Mom gave him her oh so famous glare, “But...you are to come home once a month, no ifs, ands, or buts.” He warned me and I nodded,

“Of course Dad, I’ll be here no matter what.”

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