#fucked up season from the POV of a fourteen year old

[teenagemutantninjatrauma]

tell us about how Not Ok Cody Jones is :3c

Oh brother where do I even start! Let’s see:

So, his parents mysteriously died when he was a baby. This might or might not have been directly caused by Dunn, we don’t know for sure.

He was then technically raised by Dunn but we all know his real parent is actually Serling. But Serling is there primarily to protect Cody and Dunn wanted to isolate Cody, both of which contributed to him having zero social skills and zero friends. And no idea what the world outside is like.

(Not to drag my other interests into this too much but he does pretty much live the Adrien Agreste lifestyle.)

And we have to add that Dunn is not like. All that outwardly abusive. For the majority of Cody’s life, Dunn does not hit Cody, or threaten him, he just… keeps him at home, where it’s safe and nothing can endanger him. He gives him gifts – Cody can’t go live his own adventures, so instead he collects relics of the adventures of his ancestors. He whispers poison in his ear. He brings him out for events like a pet trained to do tricks, as proof that he is still entitled to the inheritance that is supposed to be Cody’s one day.

This makes his betrayal worse. Because Cody, who is kind and loving, truly believes that Dunn has his best interests at heart, and then this illusion crumbles under his feet. HE is the one who discovers where Dunn illegally makes weapons. And then he experiences Dunn lying to his face about it, and the cops not trusting him, and even the TURTLES questioning what he saw (not because they don’t believe him, but because at the time it seems impossible. But still, it sucks!). Do you think that, for a second, when he was in the room masked by a hologram, he doubted himself? Maybe he really is just seeing things. Maybe the guys and Splinter are wrong about uncle Dunn. Surely…

But things keep not adding up. The vibes are permanently off now. Dunn keeps coincidentally being connected to dangers that Cody gets into, and eventually, Splinter nudges Cody to trust his gut. So Cody does.

And on his birthday, his uncle tries to kill him.

Dunn tries to kill him, in a way that is violent, and cruel, and though he doesn’t succeed, he does kill Serling instead. Serling, who has been nothing short of Cody’s dad, his guardian, and Dunn just straight up kills him, AND HE USES CODY’S MECH TO DO IT. WHILE CODY JONES IS INSIDE THE MECH. AND HE TELLS HIM, DON’T CLOSE YOUR EYES, CODY, YOU’LL MISS THE BEST PART. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—

Anyways. Cody Jones fixes Serling before the end of the episode. Because Serling is a robot. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. And it’s fucked! It’s fucked up!!! That just happens to him! His one hobby that he’s able to have is inventing things, and then his own invention is turned into a weapon, because that’s what Dunn DOES, he takes the O’Neil genius and uses it for HURTING PEOPLE. Do you think Dark Leo ever tells Cody about the electroshock chips installed in their brains? Do you think somehow, in someway, that was made by the O’Neil Tech, originally?

Do you think he feels responsible?

And then he’s left alone. Because the show was kind of on a last leg, so it’s not the narrative’s fault, but still! The turtles have to, rather abruptly, go home. And, accidentally, Serling is dragged in with them. So where does that leave Cody? Alone, with his homicidal criminal uncle on the loose.

And he’s only started to become independent like half a year ago. And he’s fifteen. And they tried to kill him on his birthday. And his dad and his family are gone.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fourteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 5.8K

Warnings: References to sex, Mentions of sex (not really explicit), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking/Snorting Drugs, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from Soldier Boy's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Previously:

"Y/f/n Y/l/n?" The dark haired man asks, an accent tilting the ends of his words.

"Who's asking?"

He pulls out a badge, holding it up to the peep hole. "I'm Agent Butcher, this is Agent Campbell. We’re from the CIA, here to ask you a couple of questions about Soldier Boy."

You open the door to look at them. "The rapper?"

"What?" Agent Butcher looks confused.

"The rapper? Soulja Boy-" You arch a brow feigning confusion. "Because honestly I don't understand why the CIA would be asking me about that."

“No.” Agent Butcher holds up a photo.

You keep your face impassive. It’s a photo of Ben and you at a movie premiere the week before he left to go to Nicaragua.

“You’re here to talk to me about my mom?” You flit your eyes back to the two men standing in the doorway, easily slipping into the lie that you and Legend invented.

“Your mom?” Agent Campbell looks confused.

“Yeah. Indigo. Who did you think I meant?" You ask.

Present Day

*Soldier Boy POV*

The longer Ben sat in the motel room the more he thought of you. It wasn’t unusual. Ben was always thinking of you, even before he fucked everything up and before you two became supes, Ben rarely thought about anyone else. He hated that he did that, hated that you were always on his mind because he believed that he shouldn’t care about you as much as he did. Because why would you want someone like him? He was a fuck up before and after the serum and you deserved better. You always had deserved better.

When his cage had finally opened your name had been on his lips. He was ready to see you again, tell you how sorry he was, and how much he loved you. He hoped that it was you finally coming to take him away, but it wasn’t.

Y/n said she never wanted to see you again. Of course it wasn’t her.

He sighs and takes a bite of cheeseburger. His first one in 40 years, that the British fuck had gotten him, but it tastes like sandpaper, because he can't focus on anything but you.

"Well we know a few of your old team members are already dead." Butcher breezes pacing in the dingy motel room. "Countess, Gunpowder, Indigo-"

Ben reaches for his knife to grind up the oxy on the table in front of him, hoping that the pills will bring more relief than the whiskey.

It had been three days since he got out of Russia. Two since he visited Legend, when Legend told him that you were dead and Ben threw Legend's red armchair through the window of his apartment.

When Legend said it, Ben couldn't breathe, couldn't grasp that you were really gone. He didn't want to believe it.

You were all he thought the past 40 years, you were the only reason why he wanted to get the fuck out of Russia. He hated himself for what he had done, felt that he deserved the torture, but it was nothing compared to how he had tortured himself over the years.

The last thing he said to you often replayed in his mind and the way you looked when he said it burned against his eyes at night. He hadn't meant to hurt you, he didn't want to hurt you, never did. You were his oldest friend, the only person he knew that could be honest with him, call him out on all his shit, the only person who knew the real him, and the only person he could trust to be the voice of reason when he lost his temper.

And he threw you away like you meant nothing to him, when you were the only person who meant everything, the one person that he actually gave a fuck about.

Ben thought about your last night together often, remembered the dinner in the little restaurant when you wore a dress the color of his suit and looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen you as you danced to the song that always made him think of you. Remembered how he felt when he finally took you to bed, how each time you cried out his name it made him feel proud that it was him making you feel that way, that you wanted him as much as he had wanted you for so long.

Of course, then the memory of the next morning broke in his mind. When he woke up before you and held you closer than he'd held anyone else, slowly stroking your back and watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slept and allowing himself to feel at peace. He couldn’t stop smiling in that moment because you genuinely wanted him to hold you close to him. When he woke up with you in his arms when you were children he feared that you wouldn’t want him to hold you, so he always pulled away, afraid of the rejection. He felt rejection from his father, but Ben knew that if you ever rejected him he wouldn't recover.

And then I rejected her, like a dumb fuck.

Ben was not a cuddler, he didn't think it was manly, but being there with you the morning after was different, and he believed he could have laid there for eternity listening to the soft beat of your heart where you rested against his chest and watch the gentle rise and fall of your body as you breathed. He had trailed his fingers along your spine as you laid on his chest, happy for the first time in his life.

When you told him that you loved him, he had been stunned. He remembered the soft blush of your cheeks and wide smile as you said it. He had wanted to say it back, to hear you say it once more, and to make love to you again while he said it- because he knew that’s what you had done together. He had fucked a lot of women, but that night with you was different, he cared how you felt, wanted it to be good for you, wanted to be everything you needed.

But the thought of you loving him scared him.

As much as it made him a pussy, Ben understood that it scared him.

You shouldn't love him because he didn't think that he could be what you wanted, that after all these years he couldn't be enough for you, and he believed that he shouldn't care for anyone as much as he did for you, because that meant weakness. That meant that every time you were on a mission together he would have to worry about you more than anything else. And Soldier Boy couldn't be weak.

So he pushed you away and ran to Countess. Ben's jaw tightens.

The psychotic bitch that sold me out. 

It had surprised him, how recently she had died. Butcher hadn't taken responsibility for it as he had for Gunpowder, which made Ben curious as to who had done it.

"Are you sure that Indigo is dead?" Ben asks taking another bite of the hamburger, but it still tastes like nothing.

He wondered if that was because you were gone and then wondered if he'd ever be able to taste anything ever again.

"What?" Hughie looks up from his bag of food. "Why would you think that?"

"Countess. Y/n hated her." Ben takes a swig from the bottle of whiskey on the table to try and dissipate some of the sadness he felt when he thought of you being gone. "Who told you that y/n was dead?"

"Her daughter." Hughie answers.

Ben freezes, his muscles tightening as a sickening feeling rises in the pit of his stomach. "She-she had a kid?" The thought made jealousy burn in his chest. Someone else had loved you, someone else had been man enough to say the thing that kept him up at night.

Of course she had a kid. She said she wanted a family. I was just too fucking stupid and couldn't admit that I wanted to give her that, to give her anything she wanted because I fucking love her. Did I really think she was going to wait for me? After everything I did to her? After everything I said? 

"Yeah-" Butcher shrugs. "Spitting image of her."

"She looks like her?" The thought of seeing you smile again makes something stir in his chest.

But it wouldn't be y/n. Ben reasons to himself. Because she’s gone.

His hand tightens on the bottle of whiskey and he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter in his hand as a wave of sadness comes over him. The memory of you and him at Fairmount Park, when you painted him briefly flashes across his mind and he allows himself to bask in your smile for a few fleeting moments before it’s gone. It makes him feel like he’d taken a knife to the chest at the thought that he’d never see it again and never hear you laugh.

"Yeah. Calls herself the same thing." Butcher continues.

"I want to meet her." Ben states taking one last drag of whiskey from the bottle.

"What?" Hughie chokes on his food.

Ben stands up. "I want to meet her. Where is she?"

"Oi, I don't think that's a good idea. She didn't really seem too keen on seeing you-"

"What do you mean?" Ben spits back, eyes narrowing.

Hughie shifts in his seat uncomfortably and Ben can hear Hughie's heartbeat quicken in fear.

"Don't be a pussy and just tell me." Ben snaps, becoming angry.

"She didn't want to talk too much about her mom. But she did mention how upset her mom was with you." Hughie states.

Ben felt the memories of the past creep up on him again.

Of course she was upset.

He remembered how broken you had looked the night you caught him and Countess. The look on your face forever sealed in his memory. He’d never seen you look so small. Honestly he was surprised that you hadn’t killed Countess that night. If he had walked in on anybody fucking you after the night you shared together, he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from killing them.

Because you were his.

He thinks about Howard briefly. Ben had almost killed him before you were supes when he called you his at the dance. It was also difficult to walk away when Howard hurt you.

Ben’s thoughts drift back to Countess. Her body had been burned beyond recognition, but her head was no longer attached. It would have taken an extreme amount of force for someone to do that.

Could she still be alive?

Ben thought about your ability. He was the only one who knew what it really was, that you didn't just come back from the dead, that your body was able to take the power of any supe that killed you. It made you incredibly indestructible, more invulnerable than him, even though he didn't want to admit that. He liked the thought that he was stronger than you because it meant that you needed him to protect you. He liked the thought that you needed him.

The day you both figured it out momentarily dances across his mind, making him tighten his jaw.

He remembered the sound of the gun and how you immediately pushed him out of the way to take the bullet for him, because you didn't know he was bulletproof and your gut reaction was to protect him.

Ben remembered how he held you when you took your last breath, watched the fear and pain in your eyes, mirrored in his own body at the thought of losing you, of trying to exist in a world where you weren't there. It was how he felt now.

Purposeless.

He remembered the broken feeling that rose in his chest when he heard your heart beat for the last time and how he begged internally for you to come back to him, because he didn't want to live if it meant losing you. He remembered gently brushing your hair back from your face as relief swelled in his chest when you came back and he clung to you like you had been gone a millennia. Of course after he had yelled at you for being so stupid, for putting yourself in that situation, tried to act like he didn't care as much as he did, but you'd only yelled back and refused to listen to him.

She was just so damn stubborn all the time.

"I don't care. I want to talk to her." Ben grabs the black leather coat that Butcher brought him and changes into a dark t-shirt and a pair of jeans. "Take me to her."

Butcher rolls his eyes. "Well, she did call the other day and say that she had some information for me." Butcher shrugs. "Let's go."

"But-" Hughie interjects.

"Oi Hughie. Calm down."

"She lost her mother. I don't think she wants any reminders of that."

"I promise I'll be gentle, cupcake." Ben rolls his eyes and pushes past Hughie to the door, the thought of seeing you again or just someone who shared your face enough to make him feel something for the first time in forty years.

"Oi, Y/n you in there." Butcher presses the call button on the outside wall of the brick apartment building.

Ben looks up and down the street, noting the people who are walking down the cracked sidewalks. It was weird to be back in New York, to be in a city that he lived in for so long and feel out of place. Hughie had tried to explain some things to him about the new century, but Ben was still confused, and honestly he didn’t care. The only thing he could focus on was you and the possibility of you living here.

Not you. He corrected. But maybe. He still didn't quite believe that you were dead, that you could die.

A minute passes and Ben is tired of waiting. He confidently walks up to the glass front door, and pulls with  enough of his superstrength to break the lock and open it.

"What are you doing?" Hughie whispers following behind him, but Ben ignores the question strutting straight to the stairwell.

"What floor?"

"8th." Butcher says.

When they finally reach your door Ben pauses. He's not sure if he can look you in the eye, not after all of these years, if it really is you. And if it wasn't then what? What would I say to her daughter?

The thought makes the fear that he refuses to acknowledge grip his chest, the fear that you were dead followed by the feeling of purposelessness that seemed to follow him since he heard the news.

If it is her daughter, maybe she’ll tell me if y/n suffered, if she died thinking that I hated her.

The memory of the fight stirs in his chest as Butcher knocks on the door and waits. But nobody answers.

"Must not be home." Hughie shrugs. "We could call her-" He begins to say, but Butcher deftly picks the lock and the door swings open into the darkness.

As soon as Butcher opens the front door of the apartment and Ben steps through, all he smells is you. It's enough to confirm in his heart that it is you and not your daughter. He felt something in his chest stutter to a halt as he inhales the familiar scent of lavender and lemons. It was everywhere, all around him, flooding his senses. 

And for the first time in forty years he felt comfort, at peace. For a moment all thoughts of revenge, rage, and justice fades from his mind and he is left with the memory of you.

Ben immediately is transported back to those quiet moments when he settled into bed next to you after climbing through your window. When you would fall asleep before him and curl against him subconsciously, your hair tickling his cheeks and sending the soft smell over him. The nights when he’d wrap his arm around you as soon as you fell asleep because he was afraid to do it when you were awake, afraid that you would reject him like so many others did. Those nights with you outweighed any other time in his life. He remembered that each time he crawled through your window you smiled up at him, were happy to see him, so different than the home he left behind, where his father wouldn't look at him.

He remembered the nights after you took Compound V, when even after a hard day when he was a dick, you still allowed him into your bed, allowed him to sleep next to you. Those quiet moments in the late hours of the morning when you cuddled into his side and muttered words in your sleep that he couldn’t understand all the while he brushed your hair back from your face stayed with him. As much as he refused to admit to anyone, refused to show any emotion, being there with you, felt more like home than anywhere else.

That's why he asked you to come with him in the first place. He couldn't leave you behind. Maybe that was selfish of him, but he would not pretend to be unselfish, not when it came to you.

He thinks about all the suitors that he scared away before him and you left Philadelphia, all his friends who expressed interest in you only to have him drive them away, and of course the one that wouldn't leave. The one that bought you jewelry and finally asked you to marry him, another reason why Ben convinced you to come with him.

The jealousy was familiar. Ben didn't want to leave you behind, the thought that some other man would possess you or love you made his chest hurt. You were his. No one felt the way about you that he did, never would. No one would know you, care about you or understand you like he did, and no one knew you as long as he did. And although Ben had trouble expressing it, he knew that he loved you, he hated himself for being unable to say it. He couldn’t decide if admitting that he loved you made him a pussy or it was his fear of telling you that made him one.

Ben looks around the apartment, noticing the artwork on the walls, the messy studio table, and smiles. He remembered the way you always had a sketchbook with you, he used to tease you about it,  but you would only roll your eyes at him and continue to draw. He loved watching you sketch, watching how focused you were as you created something so effortlessly. He remembered watching you paint with the watercolors he got you, feeling a swell of pride that he was the one who started that love. Ben had been afraid to give them to you, afraid that it was too thoughtful, but then he remembered how widely you smiled, how happy you had been.

The apartment felt like you.

And by now again he knows that it is you and perhaps that's worse, because now he has to face you and he doesn't know how to fix this, any of it.

You weren’t like him or anyone else. You didn’t bend under easy promises and gifts like the other women he had been with over the years. Your ability to read him and understand him meant that you were special. And you were. You were special to him.

He moves forward towards the darkened hallway.

"Hey wait-" He hears Hughie say behind him, but Ben ignores him.

Ben finds your bedroom easily and the smell grows when he opens the door. He takes in the controlled chaos of the room before his eyes fall on the suitcase on the large bed.

Where was she going?

Ben pulls your supe suit out of the bag and smiles at the memory of the day you first tried it on. You never wore anything form fitting, hid your shape under shirts and pants, but the day he saw you in this for the first time made his breath catch in his chest. He knew that you thought you were fat, but Ben never believed that. He loved every curve of your body, loved to trace them with his eyes when you weren’t looking  and when you finally let him take you to bed, his hands. Seeing you in the suit for the first time was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he kept it together.

He notices the plane ticket on the edge of the bed, beneath the bag, and he pulls out the printed piece of paper, reading the fine print.

She was going to Russia. She was going to come get me even after I-

The emotion that rises in Ben's chest is unfamiliar. He did not like giving in to emotions the same way others did because he believed that made him weak, a lesson his father had ingrained into his mind. But this time he doesn't attempt to push it down. The plane ticket crumples in his hand as his jaw clenches tight. A part of him was relieved, relieved to know that somewhere deep down you still cared about him, maybe that meant that you would be willing to see him.

But he still didn’t know how to fix this. He'd never been good with words or apologizing or, well, love in general. He’d never loved anyone before you. He frowns at the thought of all the meaningless flings he'd had in the past. There was only one relationship with a woman he'd ever been in, with you, and he'd fucked it all up.

He kneels and reaches under your bed, looking for the box he knows will be there. It's a dark rosewood, one from your bedroom when you were a kid, but now it holds a different value. Ben sits on the end of your bed and opens it.

He had caught you with it a few times, usually when you started drinking or on your birthday, always on your birthday. It's why he never let you stay at home, he made sure you came out with him, because your mind would drift when you were alone and Ben didn't like the dark places it took you.

Ben rarely liked leaving you alone. Whenever he was on movie shoots in another country he would call you just to hear your voice, and even when he went to bed with someone else and they fell asleep he would stay up thinking of you, wondering if you missed him as much as he missed you, and wondering if you could sleep without him because he couldn’t sleep without you. Another reason why he pushed you away, believing that it made him weak.

The photo on top is unfamiliar to him, it's newer, and shows you standing with a young brunette woman outside of a college dorm. He traces the lines of your face with his thumb. He hadn't seen a picture of you in forty years, but you were just as beautiful as he remembered. The one that follows is also unfamiliar, you holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket, the baby’s hand wrapped around your index finger, and you looking down at it like it's your whole world.

The look in your eyes does something to him. He remembered when you looked at him like that, the morning when you woke up next to him and whispered those four little words to him that he always wanted to hear while holding his face tenderly between your palms, "I love you Ben."

When things got bad in Russia he would strain to remember the memory, remember the way you looked at him, the way the words sounded falling from your lips. The words that he always wanted to hear you say. The morning that he wished he could change and the disastrous night he wished never happened.

"We shouldn't be here." Hughie says to Butcher in the living room.

"She ain't home. We'll go when he wants to leave." Ben hears Butcher respond.

But Ben knew that he didn't want to leave, wouldn't want to leave. He had spent the past forty years away from you and he didn't want to spend anymore time apart from you, even if that made him a pussy, he didn't care.

"This isn't a good idea. Y/n didn't want him here-" Hughie tries again

"Oi, look at this. She's looking at flights." Butcher states, when he notices the laptop on the counter.

"What?" Hughie asks.

"If it ain't her, how would she know about Russia?" Butcher says back. Ben hears a rustling like Butcher is going through the trashcan “And take a look at this-“

Ben shuts out their conversation and pulls other photos out, finally pulling out strip of paper from a Photo Booth. It was the day he took you to a baseball game,  before you were supes. You’d never been to one before and Ben had only been to the one his father took him to, when his dad got drunk and forgot Ben was with him. Ben frowns for a second but then looks back at the collection of photos on the strip. It was a good day. He had bought you a ridiculous hat, and you'd sat next to him looking radiant in the sunlight like you always did sketching him. Ben loved it when you drew him, it made him happy to know that when you looked through the pages of your sketchbook later that you were thinking of him. He often wondered if you thought of him as much as he thought of you. You'd both gotten drunk on cheap beer and when a woman yelled at you for being unladylike you flipped her the bird and said some choice words that made the tips of the woman’s ears turn pink.

Ben loved that about you, that you never seemed to care what others thought of you, especially your friendship with him. Everyone you knew had told you to keep a wide berth from him, but you didn’t listen.

Ben traces your young face in the photo with his fingertip.

Maybe she should have.

He turns back and pulls out a yellowed photo of you and your mother. Ben frowns at the expression on your face. You were never happy when she was around. He hated your mother, not just because she hated him, but he hated what she did to you. He hated that she made you feel ugly, when you were the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. Even as teenagers, Ben couldn’t help but notice how pretty your figure was and how you filled out the soft dresses you wore when you went with him on adventures through the city. He never thought you were too fat, if anything he liked your curves. The night you were finally together he worshipped them, wanted you to know that you were beautiful, to understand that he saw your beauty, because he knew that you still thought about what your mother said to you. He hated that she had such a hold on your life even though she had been dead for so long.

He hears a rattle along the bottom of the box and when he picks up the source of the noise he immediately wishes he hadn't.  It's a single pearl, and Ben understands what it's from. It's from the necklace he bought you for your birthday, the one that you ripped off your neck when you found him with Countess. He had agonized over whether or not to get it for you, thought that maybe it was too thoughtful or rather was too romantic. But the look on your face when you opened the box made him feel like he’d swallowed the sun.

Ben's teeth clench together as a wave of guilt crashes over him remembering what he yelled at you, remembering what he did to you. He thought that it had been what he needed to do, that he needed to push you away because he didn't want to care about anyone else, at least not the way he cared about you.

He hadn’t thought it would hurt as much to say those things to you, but it had all but ripped his own heart out.

But even before you found them together all Ben felt was guilt. He wasn’t enjoying anything he was doing to Countess, all he wanted was to do those things with you. He thought it was necessary, that by doing those things with her he could somehow clear his head of you, but all it did was make him feel guilty and want you more.

He thinks about the days that followed before his mission in Nicaragua, when he agonized over calling you, over showing up to your apartment, but he couldn't. He couldn't face you.  He hadn't been able to sleep those nights before the mission and wanted desperately for you to be there with him.  Ben couldn't sleep when you weren’t with him. He hated that he'd finally gotten you and then lost you so quickly.

Ben notices a velvet box, and he sighs when he opens it. It's an engagement ring, the engagement ring that you showed him the night he asked you to come with him.

He briefly wonders if you thought that was his version of a proposal. That you believed, turning your back on your family and coming with him meant more.

I’m such a fucking idiot. I should’ve-

“It really is a shitty ring.” He mutters. And it was, it was all wrong for you. Ben knew what you liked and he couldn’t believe that this was what that asshole got you.

Why did she keep it? Because she wanted to remember what her life could have been like if I didn’t ask her to come?

Ben remembers when he asked you if he ruined your life, before everything exploded. He imagined that after that night you changed your answer, because how could you look at him, let alone want to be around him after what he did to you?

Ben examines the ring again allowing the memory of the night you showed it to him push its way into his mind. He remembered being scared, of course he’d never admit that, he wasn’t a pussy, but he acutely remembered the moment you showed it to him. The fear of losing you that struck him when he noticed it on your finger, as the weight of what it represented settled on his shoulders. He knew that the asshole who proposed would quickly turn you against him, and this time you’d believe it because you loved that dick or-

Ben reconsidered. She didn’t love him because she came with you. She loved you.

He remembers again what it was like to be with you in  bed, when you whispered those words so tenderly to him and is struck with guilt all over again.

You had looked almost sheepish when you showed me the ring, like you were afraid to tell me-

Of course she was afraid to tell you. She wanted you to propose but you didn’t instead you fucking ruined her life and strung her along for 40 fucking years-

He never understood how you did that. Survived all those years with him while he fucked his way through everything that crossed his path. How you continued to stand by him when he was a dick to you and so many others. And yet you never let any other man into your life.

He remembers the night after you got between him and Noir, remembers asking you if you wanted to marry Howard, but you said no. The other things you said struck something within him. When you said you wanted someone to come home to, someone who would love you, a family. He remembers how you looked the night of your birthday in the restaurant, how you watched the couples around your table and smiled. He knew what you were thinking, and he had tried to show you that he could be that for you by taking your hand where it rested on the table even though it went against every instinct he had. He wanted so badly to give you those things, to make you happy. Ben didn’t want you to find that with anyone else. He would have loved to have a family with you, to be with you always the way you were always there for him, or were until he fucked it all up. He remembers asking you to marry him, apart of it had been a joke, just to gauge your reaction, but deep down he was curious. He hadn't expected it to hurt so much when you laughed him off.

Ben sighs. When you spoke about leaving Payback he was worried, worried that it meant you would leave him too and then who would he have? No one. It’s why he spent so many nights in your bed, with you curled up beside him. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.

He shuts the ring box with a snap and throws it back inside. The memory of the night you spent together is just on the edge begging to be let in. Ben indulged in that memory many times over the years, letting it strengthen him. Remembered every detail. It was the first time that he actually cared what someone else wanted in bed. He remembered how your cheeks blushed when you told him that you’d never had sex before and how you said that you wanted it to be him. He never imagined that you would want him the same way that he’d wanted you all those years.The exact reason why he drowned himself in so many other women, because he thought that’s what he needed to do. Because you deserved someone better than him, you always had.

The thought is immediately followed by what he yelled at you in the bathroom at the premiere, when he turned something that you believed to be special, one of the happiest nights of his life, into a cheap fuck.

He remembered the broken expression on your face. He'd never seen you look so small. Ben always admired how strong you were, but as soon as he said those things to you, he watched you crumble when he broke your heart.

Worse still was when he grabbed you. He fights the shudder, remembering how he grabbed onto your arms. As many times as you’d stood between him and the source of his anger, he’d never laid a hand on you but that night, he was just so damn frustrated. You were looking at him with those big eyes of yours that always saw through him, understood him, and he was frustrated because he wanted to tell you that he loved you that he always had loved you but he couldn’t. He couldn’t admit it because he was a man and damn it a man didn’t show emotions and he was Soldier Boy he didn’t need anyone-

His jaw clenches together so tight that he hears the click of his teeth.

But he did. He knew that all he needed was you.

I’m such a fucking asshole. Y/n doesn’t need me and I don’t deserve her-

Ben raises his head to look at your bedroom door as he hears the front door of your apartment swing open. And he freezes.

Because why would you want to see him? He had ruined your life.

A/N: Alright everybody we made it to the chapter right before the reunion!!! What will happen? Will she forgive him? Who knows?! Even me, honestly. 😂

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know. :)

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[caitbird]

fic recs batch 12/31/2025

I'm adding some new bookmarks to my ao3 bookmarks, so I wanted to share this latest batch of fic recs here! I'm going to try to do this from now on, posting a new batch of fic recs here every time I add another batch of bookmarks to ao3.

disclaimer: as always, please heed all tags and warnings on each individual fic. You are responsible for your own reading experience!

Fandom: All For The Game

Not Yours To Bleed, by Coffeexandxangst Rating: Explicit Ship: Andrew/Neil, Ichirou/Neil, other ships Word count: 370k Status: WIP Summary: The Pros were never in the cards. Not for an ex-medicated alleged psychotic with a dysfunctional family and an Exy career he’d rather not have. But even if it wasn't his first choice, no matter what happens, it can’t possibly be worse than that one fucked up sophomore year when he stood toe to toe with the Yakuza-and won. At least, that’s what Andrew thinks until a familiar face shows up. Another Raven!Neil AU. Or, the one where the boys don’t meet until the Pros. My bookmark: Amazing Raven!Neil AU that takes a bit of a different approach to the trope, where Neil and Andrew don’t get to know each other until after Neil’s left the Nest – but he’s still far from free. Brutal, gut-wrenching, brilliant. I’m hooked, and desperately want to see Neil find happiness after the hell he’s been through!           Note: *please* mind all tags and warnings – this one gets rough.

Running Defense, by Coffeexandxangst Rating: Explicit Ship: Jeremy/Jean Word count: 8k Status: complete Summary: Jean had just begun to trust that it didn’t happen here. He was wrong. This work takes place during Jean’s year with the USC Trojans, during which time Neil is still in the nest. My bookmark: A misunderstanding leads to a first time between Jean and Jeremy. NYTB ‘verse.

Cuffing Season, by Coffeexandxangst Rating: Explicit Ship: Neil/Riko Word count: 6k Status: complete Summary: (noun): Usually in colder months, fall or winter, when new relationships start and old relationships turn into engagements. “Buy us some time.” Jean said. Time for Kevin to get out, to get him help. Neil could give them that. It has been seven years since the boy named Nathaniel came to live at the nest. The men who call themselves his masters like to think themselves monsters-but they are wrong. Neil can survive this, even when he feels like he can’t. This fic CANNOT be read as a standalone and should be read after NYTB. At minimum, you should be past chapter 28 before reading this. This story takes place during the time in which Jean and Neil are still in the nest. My bookmark: NYTB backstory – Neil’s POV of the night Kevin left the Nest. As with the main fic, mind the tags and warnings – this one’s *rough*.

By a Thousand Cuts, by Coffeexandxangst Rating: Explicit Ship: Jeremy/Jean/Renee Word count: 9k Status: complete Summary: Renee is here for Jean. Jeremy is an unfortunate bi-product. This story takes place shortly after Jeremy and Jean are signed by the Seattle Serpents, during Neil’s final year in the nest. It can be read as a stand alone or as a companion to NYTB! My bookmark: Renee and Jeremy are both with Jean, but they’re not with each other – yet. They have some things to work out first (and work them out they do).

Hope Was a Dangerous, Disquieting Thing, by BisexualChaosDemon Rating: Mature Ship: Andrew/Neil Word count: 440k Status: complete Summary: When Neil was fourteen, his father caught up to them in Seattle and he got separated from Mary. Unfortunately, neither of them escaped unscathed, but they did escape despite all the odds. They manage to reunite at one of their emergency rendezvous and take off running. That's where their luck ran out though because they only made it to California before Mary's injuries finally bested her. In the end, his mother couldn't go on but she made Neil promise to keep running because one of them had to make it. With no other choice, Neil burned her body, buried her ashes on the beach, and did what he had promised. Then, impossibly, things went from bad to worse — After a month of just sort of drifting in his grief, Neil found out he was pregnant. My bookmark: Canonverse with some major twists – Neil is trans, Mary dies earlier, and Neil has an adorable toddler daughter named Anastasia. I love this kid fic, AFTG-style – I would die for Ana, and it’s so nice to find a young child character who’s actually written realistically, rather than as either a child-shaped prop or a miniature adult. I love seeing Neil, Andrew and all of the Foxes with her, and seeing what changes in the story with the presence of Neil’s “sister.” It’s very much a canon retelling, so expect canon-typical violence and angst, with added TWs as well as moments of cuteness and family feels.

Fandom: DCU

Settle Our Bones (series), by batmoniker, justbeyondstars, motleyfam Rating: Teen Ship: None Word count: 145k Status: WIP Summary: A hurt/comfort focused series where Jason never dies, but the Waynes’ weird neighbor kid gets strung along for the ride all the same. My bookmark: ‘Tim-joins-the-Batfam-early/Jason-never-dies’ essential reading. Tim keeps getting into Situations™, and the Waynes are always there for him. Lots of great h/c & found fam feels.

*fav* Before I met you / I didn't have anything to think about., by giganoodle Rating: Explicit Ship: Damian/Tim Word count: 112k Status: WIP Summary: Then gifts start arriving at his apartment, on the first of every month, like clockwork, like an apology. There is never any note, but the wrapping paper is Japanese, thick and expensive, and always blue-black. He could pretend they were from anyone; from Alfred, or from Bruce, as unlikely as that would be. The lack of a signature made it easy to compartmentalise again. Perhaps that was the point. It was usually food, or astronomically expensive, understated clothing that Tim would never buy for himself. Once, when his prescription ran out, it was melatonin; of course that little- whoever it was, kept tabs on that. *** A young Damian attempts to initiate a relationship with a horrified Tim. Damian swears that he won't be refused, and begins a five year, long-distance campaign of seduction via gift giving, poetry and abortive attempts to get Tim to just sleep for once. My bookmark: THE DamiTim fic ever <3 Gorgeously written, featuring an incredibly intense and complex relationship & amazing characterization of both Tim and Damian.

evergreen ever sun ever moon, by Sister Rating: Explicit Ship: Jason/Tim Word count: 38k Status: complete Summary: He peels the domino off of Tim’s face. The blown blood vessels are back in the whites of Tim’s eyes, and the dark circles are dire again, blue-purple and sunk in deep. “You wanna tell me how much sleep you didn’t get today?” Jason says. ++ Tim’s insomnia is out of control. Jason helps. My bookmark: Another incredible fic from my favorite JayTim author, plotty and well written and overall awesome. Jason’s characterization is impeccable (as always). I really loved Steph in this as well.

melograno, by saltwater_oracle Rating: Explicit Ship: Jason/Tim Word count: 18k Status: complete Summary: At the sound of a struck match, Tim twisted, fixed on the flame. “What?” His eyes followed the movement of Jason lighting his cigarette, and snuffing out the match in the dirt. The Florentine countryside was evidently quite dry, so he dug it in extra hard. For a while, they watched each other, until Tim sniffed the air and said, “You smoke Marlboros.” “That’s not in my personnel file?” “No, it…” he caught himself and shook his head, once, like he didn’t mean to and had to catch himself again. Jason had thrown him, somehow. “It is. Ha.” “Ha,” Jason repeated back, now thrown, himself. “What else is in there?” Beyond the cliff, a firework exploded in brilliant blues and greens, peacock-colored. It lit Tim’s left cheek and eye in cerulean. He was alien, cut from Kryptonite or something like it, horribly powerful and difficult to look at. Tim said, “your shit schedule,” and turned back to the sky. (Tim asks Jason to help him work an undercover op in Italy. Things get complicated.) My bookmark: JayTim case fic & romance against the backdrop of beautiful Florence, Italy. Lovely writing.

Tournée du Chat Noir, by Meabd Rating: Explicit Ship: Jason/Tim Word count: 23k Status: complete Summary: Red Hood, the sometimes-criminal, sometimes-anti-hero, meets a cat burglar with an opaque past and a flexible moral code. Jason Todd, the TA, meets an over-caffeinated, half-feral underclassman. These events are definitely not related, right? My bookmark: Delightful JayTim AU feat. Stray!Tim & TA!Jason. Love Tim’s characterization in this especially.

Fandom: Harry Potter

Height, by senlinyu Rating: Explicit Ship: Draco/Hermione Word count: 9k Status: complete Summary: “Tall? That’s what you think I should notice about Malfoy? His height?” Ginny quirked an eyebrow and licked the tip of her quill suggestively. ”Well, isn’t that your thing? Lockhart. Krum. McLaggen. Ron. The only thing they have in common is being tall enough to give me a neck ache.” Hermione felt her ears grow hot, and she gripped her book tighter. “I don’t have a thing for tall men. Their height is—completely coincidental.” My bookmark: Height difference kink, yes! Cute.

Manacled, by senlinyu Rating: Explicit Ship: Draco/Hermione Word count: 371k Status: complete Summary: Harry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Hermione Granger has an Order secret, lost but hidden in her mind, so she is sent as an enslaved surrogate to the High Reeve until her mind can be cracked. My bookmark: Incredible, very dark, epic Voldemort Wins AU Dramione. The fic that finally got me into Dramione after many years in this fandom, while also possibly ruining me for all other Dramione fics. Not for the faint of heart, but well worth a read.

Forever Is Composed of Nows [James/Aurore], by senlinyu Rating: Teen Ship: James Sirius/OFC Word count: 6k Status: complete Summary: When James was at the hospital, he didn’t call his mum. A tale of bedside vigils. My bookmark: A small Manacled coda featuring the next generation.

Love and Other Misfortunes, by senlinyu Rating: Mature Ship: Draco/Hermione Word count: 99k Status: complete Summary: Draco Malfoy is dying. He's part-Veela and needs his mate to survive. Post-war, Hermione Granger is a workaholic, up to her eyeballs in legal activism on behalf of Magical Beings, and hasn't yet noticed that Malfoy is the Magical Being who needs her most. “Because I don’t want to be saved by you just because you feel like you have to.” He was properly furious now. “I’m in love with you." Hermione stared at him. She knew but somehow hearing him say it made the air shimmer with magic. "I’m in love with you,” he said again, despairingly. “And that means I want you to be as happy as you possibly can. And you won’t be, not with me.” My bookmark: Enjoyable creature!fic Dramione ft. nobly pining Veela!Draco and oblivious workaholic Hermione.

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

*fav* Dogs of War, by pseudonyme Rating: Explicit Ship: Gojo/Yuuji Word count: 498k Status: WIP Summary: Yuuji Itadori does not believe in magic— and he certainly does not believe in fate. In fact, he refuses to believe that the universe has some kind of big, grand plan for him and the plain, little life he lives in which he struggles to pay the bills, take care of his ailing grandfather, and keep his head down. Fate decides to prove him very, very wrong. My bookmark: AMAZING, incredible, epic mafia Omegaverse GoYuu AU story. It’s a little slow build to start with, but so so worth it! I’m completely obsessed and can’t stop thinking about this story.

*fav* The Language of Ultimatum, by pseudonyme Rating: Explicit Ship: Gojo/Yuuji, other ships Word count: 29k Status: WIP Summary: No one can outrun their true purpose in life and the tangled threads of Fate wrap the tightest around those who struggle to cut themselves free. Some will fight to escape their past. Some will fight to escape their future. And yet all will be faced with ultimatums that will change the course of destiny. - A Dogs of War Prequel - My bookmark: That good good backstory!

18/40 GoYuu confession thread, by pseudonyme_ao3 (pseudonyme) Rating: Not Rated Ship: Gojo/Yuuji Word count: 5k Status: complete Summary: #goyuu AU with 18 y/o 🐯 and 40 y/o 5️⃣ where Yuuji has been in love with his best friend’s dad since middle school and he Finally decides to confess on the day of their high school graduation… My bookmark: Prequel to All Is Merry & Bright

All Is Merry & Bright, by pseudonyme Rating: Explicit Ship: Gojo/Yuuji Word count: 65k Status: complete Summary: When a record breaking snow storm strands Yuuji and Satoru alone in a picturesque winter cabin just days before Christmas, sparks from their past become hard to ignore. As they try to deck the halls and create their own Christmas magic, Yuuji begins to wonder if everything really is as it seems. With snowflakes falling and holiday magic in the air, will this Christmas bring them closer together? Or will their chance at love melt away with the snow? My bookmark: The most delightful, perfectly indulgent holiday fic ever <3

I am standing in the middle of alexandria, by rollingeuthunda Rating: E Ship: Gojo/Yuuji Word count: 24k Status: complete Summary: "Why do you look at me like that?" "Like what?" "Like you're looking at somebody else." Satoru emerges from the Prison Realm, and everything falls apart. My bookmark: When Gojo is freed from the Prison Realm, he’s forgotten Yuuji and their secret relationship. Yuuji quietly pines while waiting for Satoru to remember.

heliocentrism, by kadal Rating: Teen Ship: Yuuji/Everyone Word count: 5k Status: complete Summary: Fushiguro reaches out and holds the charm carefully in his hands. What a simp. Fushiguro would probably love being a wet blanket, as long as he was draped over Itadori’s dumb body, all muscle, no brain, full skin-to-skin contact. “....Normally, I’d be pissed,” says Fushiguro, ignoring Nobara saying that he is pissed 24/7 and tucking the charm away in his pocket. “But I’ll let it slide this time. Thanks.” (Itadori is popular. Nobara just wants a shopping partner.) My bookmark: Everyone loves Yuuji, because of course they do. Nobara suffers.

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

*fav* Bucky Barnes Gets His Groove Back & Other International Incidents, by silentwalrus (series) Rating: Explicit Ship: Steve/Bucky Word count: 301k Status: WIP Summary: Steve gets out of the hospital in two days, but just barely. “I’m fine,” he tells Sam, Nurse Eunjung and the phalanx of doctors assigned to make sure Captain America didn’t bleed out and die and get bad PR all over their nice clean hospital. “I have an advanced healing factor. It’s fine. See? I’m standing.” “That is not standing,” Sam tells him. “You’re bending the IV stand,” Nurse Eunjung adds pointedly. “Let go and sit down, they don’t grow on trees.”   aka Steve and Bucky's Global Honeymoon Revenge World Tour. My bookmark: One of my favorite Stucky series of all time! Featuring World War Threesome, Steve and Bucky’s Global Honeymoon Revenge World Tour, The USS Motherfucker, Operation Reverse Skullfuck, Sam/mac & cheese, buzzcut Natasha, one (1) dog, and so much more. It’s an amazingly enjoyable ride – highly recommended!

Fandom: The Untamed

the new machine, by hisevilforest Rating: Explicit Ship: Song/Xue/Xiao Word count: 43k Status: complete Summary: Xue Yang is not about to let himself get fired without a final fuck you to the corporate order, so he steals the AI mind control weapon he's been testing and stashes it inside his brain. What could possibly go wrong! My bookmark: An immersive and enjoyable cyberpunk AU.

Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender

Slip the Surly Bonds, by Sol1056 Rating: Teen Ship: None Word count: 87k Status: complete Summary: Tasked with finding and teaching fifty students with the potential to reach his caliber as a pilot, Shiro instead finds one who has the potential to surpass him. But first, he's got to get the scrawny delinquent to shape up and fly right. On impulse Shiro shoved the low table out of the way, and drew his chair closer to Keith. He bent forward, elbows on his knees, and held out his hands, palm-up. Keith was already cornered—literally and figuratively, on so many levels—and Shiro wasn't about to make that sensation worse. But he could show he came unarmed. My bookmark: The story of Shiro and Keith’s pre-canon relationship. Long, well written and well characterized; reminded me why I love these two.

happy reading! :)

[foxymoxynoona]

Amended Drabble: Taehyung & Kristin: Friends

Ok, someone sent in this drabble request idea ages ago but I can't find it in my inbox, so I suspect it was part of another thing I already answered. But here it is now!

Request/Summary: "Btw a drabble on Kristen and Taehyung from Amended, I recall she was into him for a long while and I think Itd be nice to explore that dynamic, maybe from her pov … him not being interested at first and then they end up together… it’s really fascinating to me that she actually remained open to him especially after he ignored her feelings for so long even when they lived together and from what jk said would regularly bring other women around…"

Story: Amended Characters: Taehyung & Kristin CW: denial, some dirty jokes

Kristin failed to catch the bag of chips Anna tossed at her, taking the bag of tortilla crisps right to the face. Her complaint turned into a yelp as Anna acted like she was going to throw the bottle of Corona as well only to laugh and set both down on the coffee table –no coasters– between the salsa and guac.

“Limes?” Kristin asked.

Anna’s face scrunched up, “For… what?”

“The beers? Damn, I forgot you’re not a beer drinker–”

“Hey I’m trying here!”

“You don’t have to try to drink something you don’t like, but if you’re gonna to do it, you should at least do it right. Who are you trying to impress though? Not me.”

Anna admitted, “Well, to be honest, I fucked up the sangria.”

“How?!”

“Salt instead of sugar…”

“Damn you make me feel so competent.”

“Hey!” Anna’s laugh was punctuated by a kick to Kristin’s ankles. Kristin, unlike Anna, was a beer drinker, though less enthused about drinking a Corona without the requisite lime. Who had taught her that? She tried to recall, then backpedaled from the memory –Taehyung had taught her about Coronas with lime, the first summer she’d gone tubing at the river with her then-roommates Jimin and Jungkook, and Jungkook’s cousin Taehyung. 

“It’s fine without a lime,” Kristin assured her. 

“I got the good guac at least!”

“You did! Good girl!” Kristin teased. She settled the chips as Anna pulled up the entertainment of choice for their “self care” day: binging as much as they wanted of the latest season of Love Island. They didn’t often laze around this hard, but why not, when they both had the day and the desire and plenty of snacks?

And then, several episodes in, her phone buzzed. Kristin wasn’t always the most timely texter, but it buzzed while she was already holding it, reading Twitter reactions outloud to Anna as they bickered about the on-screen drama.

[Taehyung]: hey I need a bj

Kristin couldn’t stop the snort, the eye roll, and apparently that was enough to make Anna’s eyes narrow suspiciously.

[Taehyung]: I mean a trip to bj’s

Kristin knew the smug grin he was wearing as he sent the texts. He thought he was so funny. Every fourteen-year-old got a good laugh that the big-box discount store was called BJ’s, but leave it to Taehyung to still be making the joke into his twenties. Leave it to Taehyung to make the joke to a girl who– well, whatever.

[Kristin]: I’m sure you do but I’m busy beg someone else

[Taehyung]: I’m begging you

Kristin sighed through her nose. He knew the things he said. He was such a flirt when he wanted something and it was both an aggravating and endearing trait of his. She suspected he had already pestered Yoongi and been turned down. His own parents had a membership too,  though, so why her?

Not for the reasons she had wished for long ago, that was for damn sure. And that was fine. Fine! Even if Anna’s expression made it seem not fine.

“I can tell who it is by your face,” Anna smirked.

“Oh really? The annoyance is that clear?”

“Annoyance? That’s what you’d call it?”

Kristin glared.

Anna sighed, “Kristiiiin…”

“What? I didn’t say anything! It’s just Taehyung asking to use my BJ’s membership.”

“And you want to go. On this, our sacred Love Island–”

“I didn’t say that. I’m not going.” At Anna’s arched eyebrow, Kristin defended, “I’m not going!”

“You always go.”

“I do not. You’re going to piss me off. I tell him no all the fucking time.”

“Ok ok, I know.”

“That ship sailed years ago,” Kristin continued.

Anna nodded, “I know, I know.”

“It’s just friendly. He’s just mooching off my membership.”

“Are you telling me or yourself?”

Kristin huffed, “Well if you’re going to be like this–”

“Sorry, I’ve had too many beers,” Anna frowned, trying to slide across Kristin’s lap even though Anna wasn’t typically a very physical person.

“You’ve had two!”

“Which is enough to buzz me enough to tell you that I just don’t want to see you slide back into sad puppy Kristin just because he seems to be texting you a lot lately.”

Kristin held her breath for a moment as Anna slithered to get comfortable, before pressing carefully, “You think so?” She thought so, but she didn’t think it was anything remarkable enough anyone else would notice. But yeah, though she’d been friends with Taehyung for years now, the last month or so she did think he’d been messaging her more than usual. Not anything important, just to tell her… a band they liked was coming to town, or to make sure she knew they were all heading to the bar, or to ask her to fact check this or that ‘white girl’ thing he’d seen a TikTok meme about. It wasn’t like texting between them was unusual. It just seemed like he was doing it… you know, a little more often.

But that didn’t mean anything and she knew that. How many years of her life had she wasted pining after this guy who saw her as nothing more than his cousin’s former roommate at worst, “one of his bros” at best? Anna knew the whole saga, which Kristin had done her best to downplay over the years. She really had boxed up those feelings and put them on the shelf. Everyone lived with former feelings for at least one of their friends, right? And hers was Taehyung, but it had only ever been friendly with him, and she’d understood years ago that wasn’t going to change. She’d dated other people. Sort of. A little bit. Ok, maybe it was true she didn’t have much luck with guys, which included Taehyung, but she wasn’t just sitting around pining for him. Not anymore! 

And he has sure dated other people. 

“Just go,” Anna said, stretching to reach for the remote and nearly falling off the sofa. “I want to take a nap anyway. Beer makes me sleepy.”

“I’m not going to go. I’m not going to change my plans just because Taehyung needs toilet paper or whatever! We’re just friends and friends can tell each other no. I tell him no all the time.”

“Mm-hm.”

“I do! I’m busy. Start the next episode.”

**

“Ahhhh they keep it so nice and cold in here,” Taehyung sighed, throwing his hair back, running his fingers through it like someone was taking pictures. Someone ought to be.

Kristin knew she seemed casual and cool. That’s who she was; Taehyung had said so himself before. He had no idea of her feelings, she was pretty sure of that too, that most of their friend group didn’t except Anna. At least nobody had ever said anything to her. Or maybe they thought she was just kind of pathetic, crushing on a guy who didn’t have a whiff of romantic feelings towards her. Maybe she really was pathetic to have spent so long getting butterflies under the sunbeam of his attention, platonic though it was. At least she could say she hadn’t let her heart get too broken up over it. She had known better than to hope for anything. After all, her crush had begun in high school when he was way too cool to even look her way at the next locker over, making the limits of his attraction to her obvious from the start –long before he helped Jungkook move in and she realized her mistake in agreeing Jungkook could have the third bedroom in her place with Jimin.

“That stuff tastes like shit,” Taehyung scowled and literally took the box of Blueberry K-Cups from her hands to put back on the shelf.

Instantly she huffed, “It’s not for you!”

“Yeah? Well you can’t drink it.”

“I can drink whatever the fuck I want.”

“Your breath will smell like it.”

“What do you care what my breath smells like? You don’t even like coffee,” she scowled, because the thing that sucked about being Taehyung’s friend when you used to have a crush on him was that sometimes he said things like that. Who said things like that to their friends?! She’d never figured out whether he couldn’t help flirting with her because he was so charming with everyone, or if it didn’t even register to him that it could sound like flirting because it was her. Kristin. Pumpkin-spice-latte loving, riding-boot-wearing, former marching band trumpet and varsity volleyball playing Kristin. Generic Kristin. 

That was another thing about hanging out with Taehyung. He was just so exceptional –in looks, in personality, in style– that sometimes you felt insignificant next to him because he looked like that, and other times he made you feel great about yourself because of his attention, his friendship, and because he was so damn nice. He wasn’t an asshole and he could have been, everyone would have understood if he turned out to be an asshole, looking like that. Instead he was casual and cool and nice and Kristin felt so fucking plain. Not that she was usually so down on herself, usually. She was fine! She did ok! She liked herself overall, she was comfortable in her skin. 

But then you stand next to someone who looks like that as he eases a giant box of Coca-Cola off the shelf above his head, forearm muscles twitching, chin lifted and eyes narrowed in concentration, and…

“You aren’t going to help at all,” he realized with a laugh.

“You’ve got it.”

“At least move the paper towels?”

“You’re putting it on the bottom? No, put it in this part–”

“The paper towels can go on top of it.”

“On the bottom of the cart together? There’s not room!”

“I’ll make room, just move it.”

“You can’t just make room–”

“Kristin, just move it!”

“God you’re bossy,” she huffed and tugged the bulk pack of paper towels out of the bottom of the cart so he could finally set the Cokes down with an oomph. She thought it was cute how strong and weak he was at the same time. Sometimes they arm-wrestled when they were drunk and she felt great pride that they were pretty evenly matched. He had no reason to let her win. He was a good sport about losing, yet another positive feature. He had flaws… she just couldn’t remember what they were right now…. Oh yeah, he was stubborn as shit…

She stood back, arms crossed and amusement on her face as she watched him do his best to wedge the paper towels in on top of the Coke box. It didn’t fit, just as she’d warned. He kept trying, clearly determined to prove her wrong, until she couldn’t help laughing.

“So fucking stubborn!” she teased, pushing his arm. “Move, let me show you.” He scowled but let her rearrange the cart to make things fit: the paper towels, the Coca-Cola, the Red Solo cups, the gallon of Goldfish, the 250-count of freezer pops, 120 gallon ziplock bags, 250 yards of tin foil, and so on.

“Wowww,” he said, unclear whether he was teasing or sincere. “Tetris master, huh?”

“You make that same joke every time we come here.”

“I don’t repeat jokes. Sorry, you’ve got me confused with the other guys you do BJ’s with.”

His repetition of another joke made her laugh. She hated laughing, hated that he could make her laugh so easily, hated how smug he looked about it.

“You’re an idiot,” she laughed and began to walk again.

“What part of that was idiot? You don’t mean I’m the only guy you bring to BJ’s.”

“Obviously not,” she quickly answered. “Are you kidding? This membership is a great way to pick up guys.”

“No, don’t let guys use you for your BJ’s membership!”

“Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?” she pointed out.

“Well I mean except for me,” he quickly corrected. “I’m special.”

“Uh huh.”

She walked along, hands pulled into the cardigan she’d stolen from Taehyung’s car because it was always so fucking cold in BJ’s. Taehyung pushed the card, gaining some momentum and riding on the bar of it until they reached the end of the aisle.

“What, you didn’t bring… what was the guy’s name… uh…”

Kristin raised her eyebrows, genuinely not sure who the fuck he was talking about.

“That guy you went on a couple dates with.”

“Adam?”

“Yeah.”

“What made you think of him? I only went on like three dates with him.”

“Three dates is a lot for…”

“For me?” She gasped and shoved his arm. “Asshole. It’s a lot for you.”

“Maybe it is,” he admitted. “I don’t know, I don’t see the point of getting past date two if I can’t see myself just spending an afternoon at BJ’s with a girl, you know?”

See? Sometimes he said things like that.

Kristin awkwardly pointed, “Ah, raisin bread! I don’t need two loaves of it though.”

“Throw it in, we can split it,” he suggested, so she did, and thankfully the dating conversation got dropped. She didn’t know what had made him think of it, but Taehyung’s mind was a funny one to try and track. You didn’t always know where he was stepping next but he expected you to keep up, he wasn’t going to explain the connections.

They reached the end of the aisle and Taehyung sighed, “Ahhh, should we go through the bakery part?”

“Obviously.”

“But I’ll want to buy everything. I fucking love bread and stuff.”

“So buy some bread and stuff,” Kristin said. “Isn’t that why you came?”

“Not for cinnamon rolls! I need like… Spam, and pasta sauce and Pizza Rolls and–”

“Wait, have we not gotten anything on your list yet?!”

“Coke and paper towels. Anyway, I don’t have a list, I just get whatever I’m moved to get. I know it when I see it.”

Kristin shook her head and led him to the bakery section, where they spent a great deal of time debating cookies or brownies or cinnamon rolls and who would take how many of each home. She grabbed the 48-pack of Hawaiian rolls, which Taehyung never left without, and rolled her eyes when he fluttered his eyelashes at her and teased her for remembering that. 

They wandered down the toy aisles without it needing to be said, and teased each other over being drawn to completely unnecessary things: big boxes of chalk, a plastic tower of off-brand Hot Wheels cars, Nerf guns. Kristin grinned when Taehyung took the pack of bubble wands from her hand and put them in the cart. When she grabbed a toy space gun and pretended to open fire, he grabbed a baseball bat to use as a light saber and ducked around the aisle, their game continuing until two actual children wandered past and Taehyung solemnly handed one his bat ‘to protect yourself from the space invaders.’

The thing Kristin liked about Taehyung is that he never made you feel stupid for being playful, or getting something wrong, or indulging yourself. Other than his tradition of pretending he wasn’t going to load the cart up with bread, Taehyung believed you ought to enjoy life and fuck anyone who bothered you about it. Kristin hadn’t adopted that philosophy completely, but on occasion found it very freeing.

Which was quite the set up for him suddenly pulling a large very floral shirt off the tables with affordable apparel and saying, “You should buy this.”

“Uh… why?” Kristin didn’t take it from him, so he held it up himself. It looked like something a middle-aged suburban woman would wear, which wasn’t a bad thing but it wasn’t Kristin’s style at all.

“It’ll look good on you.”

“Be serious.”

“I am! It’s stylish and you have that kind of feminine sporty leisure style to you.”

“What does that even mean?” Kristin laughed. She had never once in her life considered herself fashionable, and hearing such a lie from the lips of the very fashionable Taehyung was quite the joke.

“No, look, this size will hang off your shoulder. I think it’ll look good.”

“Might as well get that Winnie the Pooh sweatshirt too,” she joked.

“Yeah, why not? You like Winnie the Pooh? I think that’s fashionable too.”

“Wait are you just insulting my style?” she cried.

His face looked sincere as he insisted, “No, I’m serious! You have that look to you, you have that kind of vibe where you can make something like this look trendy and cool.”

Kristin didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t mean that, it was an absurd thing to say, but his telltale smirk didn’t creep out as she merely stared at him. She didn’t. 

“My style,” she said slowly, “is kind of just that I wear whatever the fuck I want.”

“Exactly, I like that about your style! So I think this would look good on you, that’s all I meant,” he said, turning away. He actually looked sulky about it now and Kristin got the distinct impression he’d been serious. “Whatever,” he continued. “I like it so I’ll get it for me and wear it.”

Quickly she yanked it out of his hands, “No, you said it would look good on me. Better.”

“I didn’t say better.”

“But you meant better.”

He laughed and argued, “I did not. It would look good on you but it would look great on me.”

“It’s for women.”

“Stupid rules are only for stupid people,” Taehyung argued. “Be smart.”

“Well I’m buying the shirt, so…”

“No, I’m buying the shirt,” he argued.

“We’re not getting matching shirts.”

“I guess we are if you don’t back down, because I’m buying the shirt.”

Kristin made a face, “No, I’m not matching with you. Just buy the shirt for me and maybe I’ll let you borrow it sometimes.” She’d said it all in jest. Taehyung was absurd and this conversation was absurd.

“Ok, deal,” he agreed and tossed it into the cart. And there was his smug grin, his eyes flashing as he began to push the cart again, as if this had just gone exactly the way he intended The whole thing was so confusing, but that’s how Taehyung was! He did confusing things, and it amused the hell out of Kristin.

“Wait, I need to buy you one too then,” she said.

“God no.”

“What!”

“Ah, my style is…”

She tried to pinch his ribs but he twisted away as she cried, “Are you saying I’m not stylish enough to pick a shirt out for you? What happened to being Taehyung Kim, able to wear anything?”

“Ah… yes, that’s true… I can pull off anything– that’s not a dare!” he laughed as she began to dig through the tables. “I picked out something actually good for you.”

Kristin yanked up a t shirt and tossed it at him: a vintage-y looking t-shirt that said Everything I know I learned on Sesame Street with several cast members.

“Fuck, this is really cool,” he admitted, looking it over with a pleased smile.

“See?”

“Ok ok and then we’ll get the Winnie the Pooh sweatshirts–”

“We don’t need those,” she laughed. “It’s June!”

“Come on, let’s get them to commemorate our day.”

For the briefest moment Kristin could have sworn he said date. But of course he hadn’t. Day. Because that was such a normal thing, to buy sweatshirts to commemorate a shopping trip to BJ’s.

“Not Winnie the Pooh. Something that’s like… more subtle,” Kristin insisted, reaching around him to dig. 

Taehyung snickered, “Ok yeah that’s funny, we could wear them and see if anyone notices….”

They wound up settling on a striped blue short-sleeved button up shirt, both laughing at how differently they would style it. It was silly. So was their next debate over whether to get a S’mores kit even though neither of them had access to a firepit, but instead they bought a two-pack of water bottles to split because Taehyung said he needed a new one but only one and Kristin had a hard time saying no to him even though she had a cabinet full of mismatched water bottles already.

At the checkout, Taehyung gave her his (annoyingly) cute boxy grin as she scanned her card, only to protest when she nudged him to pay.

“No, you pay and tell me how much I owe you,” he whined.

“You bought more stuff! You do the math.”

“I don’t do math.”

“Me neither.”

“Kristin. Don’t make me do math.”

“Yes. It’s time you learned.”

“Look, one of us was a nerd in high school–”

“Hey!” she scoffed as he stepped around her to pay, as if they weren’t still arguing. “Being a band nerd isn’t the same as being a math nerd and besides you have since admitted you wish you were in the band.”

“I did not! I said I wished I played saxophone earlier but not in the marching band.”

 “Why, too good for marching band?” she taunted.

She should have predicted his answer, “Definitely.”

“You’re such an ass.”

He gave her that boxy grin again as he accepted the receipt and offered, “Well since I’m the ass who’s stuck doing the math, I’ll let you buy me a slice of pizza and a Coke while I try to figure it out.”

“Oh, you’ll let me?” Kristin repeated with a roll of her eyes.

“It’s a good deal!”

“You should buy it, you’re the one piggy-backing on my membership.”

“Ah, that’s almost a good point,” he said, taking it upon himself to push the cart towards the small food court space. “But look at it this way, you got my dazzling company for an afternoon. So I guess you could say it’s not piggy-backing, it’s a symbiotic–”

“Nah, you’re a parasite,” she assured him. And the way his dark hair bounced as he shook his head was so annoyingly gorgeous that she tripped over the voice in her head reminding you don’t have a crush anymore; you’re over him; you’re just friends; this is not a date and you wouldn’t care even if it was because you’re over this and conceded, “Fine, I’ll buy the pizza and Cokes but then I want a coffee while we figure the math out together.”

“This late? You’ll be up all night!”

“What do you know about it?” she laughed.

“Well if you’re up all night you can come over and play games,” he decided. It brought her up short. She didn’t really play games, and it was an odd invitation.

“Oh you’re playing with who tonight, Yoongi? Not Jungkook, he’s so wrapped up with–”

“No, no plans, I don’t even know what I’m going to play yet,” Taehyung shrugged. 

The invitation was like a zap of electricity through Kristin. It didn’t really make sense. Like, ok, she and Taehyung were friends. They could go to BJ’s together, though they didn’t do that often. Sometimes they’d bum a ride from each other. They’d joke around at friend gatherings. Once they’d even gone to a movie together just the two of them, but only because Jimin had bailed at the last second. She’d been sleepless with delusions from that “not a date” for days. But they didn’t exactly just go to each other’s place to hang, just the two of them, ever. For Kristin’s self-preservation maybe more than anything, but it wasn’t like Taehyung invited her over to hang just the two of them.

But she knew it didn’t mean anything. Not the way she would have wanted it to mean anything –years ago. Not now, obviously, because now they were just friends and she was fine with that. Taehyung was a great friend. They could have fun together even just shopping at BJ’s.

Her determination to hold her boundary and prove to herself as much as anyone else that she was fine and over it led her to laugh, “Come on, it’s Saturday night, I already have plans!”

“Really? With who?” He carefully edged the cart to the side of a table to claim a spot before they went to get their food.

“None of your business.”

“Fine fine, don’t tell me about your dating life. Guess you won’t mind being up all night then, I’ll buy you the coffee. Meet back here?”

“You betcha,” Kristin grinned, and tried not to read into his curiosity. Taehyung was just a nosy person. It didn’t mean anything. 

They were friends, nothing more, and though once it might have been a painful disappointment, by now Kristin just felt lucky. Lucky that this goofy, playful, handsome, charming guy seemed to enjoy spending an afternoon with her. Lucky that she was the one who got to settle down for the greasy meal with him. Lucky she was the one his smile aimed at when she told him about the grease on his chin and threw a napkin and he threw it back. Lucky that when she sipped her coffee, she realized he had put just the right amount of cream and sugar in it, even though he didn’t drink coffee himself. Well, close enough anyway.

After all, Taehyung was the kind of guy it was better to be friends with than nothing. How great to be friends with Taehyung. Kristin was a lucky girl. 

“What are you smiling about?” he asked and her stomach did a painful twist.

“You have grease on your cheek,” she lied. “How do you eat like a toddler?”

“Wipe it off for me.”

“I’m not wiping your face!”

“I’ll just smear it around if I try to do it.”

Kristin grabbed the napkin and just slapped it against his cheek. He laughed so hard he choked on the bite he’d been talking around and hurried to slurp down his Coke. She didn’t understand why it was so funny but his laughter made her laugh, she couldn’t stop either. Just two idiots laughing at the BJ’s over pizza grease that wasn’t even there. Friends. 

[ramonahblog]

Sooo apparently my latest fic is going to be a series and yes, I did just link it because no shame over here. We are all on tumblr, no point in having shame.

There are plans to have both Clark and Lois’s POV in that series. Possibly different fics, possible different chapters in one fic. IDK. Anyway point is, I’m trying to keep it canon-compliant up until 2x13 which means I’ve got to really delve into their minds and decision-making. Especially regarding their parenting choices in regards to Jon throughout the series. 

Spoilers for CW Superman and Lois. All the Spoilers. Stop reading if you don’t want spoilers. 

And now that I had time to process my Superman and Lois binge...I realised another thing. The way Clark and Lois treat Jon reminds me of how people’s relationships with their parents change once they are  adults. It’s like they forget he’s also a fourteen/fifteen year old? So when he makes a dumb teenage mistake, they react like he is an adult still living at home and not paying rent. 

And to be clear, I don’t think they mean to. Especially in season one, for the most part, he reacts and acts maturely. Like enough that I can see how Clark and Lois might accidentally place higher expectations on Jon than Jordan. Because Jordan, for the most part, acts like a fourteen (then fifteen) year old.  

And the thing about teenagers being “mature for their age” is they often get punished more severely than their peers. Because of those expectations. And they also often get the “it will be fine, just give it me more time” treatment which if you really think about it, is just “suck it up” in a pretty outfit. Basically adults forget they are dealing with teenagers so when those “mature for their age” be, you know, teenagers, they get punished more severely. 

And at the start of season one, these boys were only fourteen. And now they are fifteen. So Clark&Lois are dealing with young teenagers. 

The other thing is when Jon makes a dumb teenage mistake, he really makes a dumb teenage mistake the himbo. Like he’s the kind of teenager that would dive into water off a cliff and break his spine. But when he isn’t being a himbo  making dumb teenage mistakes, he acts older than his fourteen/fifteen years. 

And it goes the other way around. Like, in season one, when Jordan made the really dumb teenage mistake of trying to punch another kid in a head. With super strength. And the twins were outside despite the rule being stay in the hotel room and only outside because Jordan wanted to go with the team. Like Jon initially turns down the Smallville’s team offer to go out and get drunk and seems rather firm in it. Jordan is the one that accepts the offer and he does it by trying to get Jon to accept as well. Jon follows him.

Huh. 👀 Anyone want to write an AU where Jon does not follow Jordan here? 👀 The angst and drama and tragedy potential. 👀

And Clark and Lois weren’t pointing out that Jordan did mean to hit someone and in the head. He just didn’t mean to hit Jon. They left that out. And they did know this because Jon says it to Jordan in front of them and, well, context clues even if Jon hadn’t. But their response to this was a stern talking to Jordan and then an offer for ice cream the next day. The fuck, Lois? Why are you rewarding him here? 

Verses Clois’s response to Jon preventing this from happening and getting a broken arm as a result. Was to dismiss his feelings and no follow up once Jon (visibly upset) takes himself to his room. Lois also straight up tells Jon that it could have been worse. Which sounds so incredibly dismissive and most teenagers (hell most adults) would take it as dismissive. Okay, Lois. The night of injury is not the time to say that. Let your FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD be upset about his broken arm. 

And tbf, this is followed by Clark telling Jordan that Jon has the right to be upset. But no one followed Jon.  

While Jordan gets ice-cream the next morning. Again, the fuck Lois? Did Jon get ice-cream, Lois? Did you offer him ice-cream, Lois? 

And if you consider this as Clois responding to Jon as if he’s older than he actually is while treating Jordan as the age the twins actually are or younger. Because the fuck, Lois? It makes perfect sense. Because then Clois is going with the assumption that it is obvious to Jon because they are treating Jon as if he’s older then he is. 

Problem is Jon is fourteen (and then fifteen) and they need to stop going by that assumption that Jon will automatically know these things. 

Also I don’t think we talk enough about how Lois drops the parenting ball with Jon as well. And also Jordan. Different extremes (being directly responsible for breaking your sibling’s arm because you were planning to hit someone’s head with your super strength is certainly a situation you should get ice-cream for /sarcasm) but still dropping it.

Skip to season two, Jon makes really dumb teenage mistake and does drugs. Clois are focusing on external factors because they are stuck in this weird-ass belief that Jon is older than he actually is but also they can somehow protect him like he’s newborn. So, to them, it looks like Jon took drugs for superficial reasons and is apparently covering for an actual drug dealer for no reasons. Which is why, even after a night’s sleep, they aren’t getting to the bottom of anything because they aren’t looking at the internal factors. Or why Clark keeps interrupting Jon’s attempt to explain what he was/is thinking. 

You can even see it when Jon-El crosses over to Prime World. Jon gets snappy with Clark because Clark lets Jon-El go in order to not hurt Lana’s feelings to keep his secret (only for that to be reversed by the end so it was pointless, A+ parenting Clark 👍) and is sent to his room by Lois (A+ parenting Lois 👍). 

Let’s reiterate: Jon is actively being hunted down. He’s also having painful seizure-like attacks that leave him writhing on the floor. Clark had the chance to actively stop the threat to Jon’s and didn’t. Jon gets snappy (and if you wouldn’t in the same situation you are either lying or need better self-esteem, please work on that). He is sent to his room.

Meanwhile Lois goes to talk to Sarah about Jordan. Jordan finds this out and gets snappy at her. He is comforted.   

Result: Jordan gets snappy at his mom because she talked to his newly ex-girlfriend about him. Lois comforts him. Jon gets snappy at Clark for letting a threat to Jon’s life escape and BONUS said threat is the reason Jon is having painful seizure-like attacks. Lois sends him to his room. 

Why no getting sent to room for Jordan, Lois? What lesson do you think the Kent Boys learnt from this? If you get snappy because your life is actively at risk, you deserve to get sent to your room. But if you get snappy because your mom *checks notes* talked to your ex-girlfriend, you deserve to be comforted. 

Also speaking of this episode and Clark’s A+ Parenting 👍. Clark literally tells Jon that the Secret keeps the family safe right after the secret is directly responsible for letting Jon-El aka active threat to Jon’s life right now escaping. Jon doesn’t know this at this point but it’s literally only TWO SCENES later. 

The fuck? The actual fuck?  

IDK. Am I making sense here? Thoughts anyone? 

Sorry if I’m not making sense. Apparently, I am coming down with something if the hot/cold, tiredness and my head feeling like someone decided to use it as a knifeblock is any indication. 

[hoboal87]

Elastic Heart Chapter Fifteen (Fin)

Title: Elastic Heart - Stay

Characters: Y/N Y/L/N, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Cordelia Y/L/N, OFC’s

Pairing(s): Sam x Reader, Reader x OMC

Summary: In the aftermath of the final Trial, Dean reaches out to Y/N. Dean is willing to do whatever it takes to save Sam, but is he going to push Y/N too far?

Word Count: 13.4k(!)

Warnings: Angst, Bits of Fluff, Character Injury, Major Character Death, Time Jump, Implied Smut.

A/N: Series is mostly canon compliant, taking place during season 8/9. For the purposes of this fic Sam was born in '84 instead of '83.

A/N 2: Here it is, the final chapter! I have to thank my wonderful, awesome beta @deanwinchesterswitch! Kym, you are the best, thank you so much for making this fic the best possible version of itself. I will definitely miss our RIDICULOUSLY long notes and comments. I literally cannot say thank you enough for putting up with my crazy brain-dumps and last minute changes. 

Elastic Heart Masterlist

Read Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen: Stay

Y/N POV

I take a deep breath as I pull out my phone and set the timer, setting the test next to two others. Stupid, I chastise myself, putting yourself in this position again. I lean against the counter before sliding down onto the floor, still being mindful of my arm. I stare blankly at the wall and let my mind wander. We were careless, so caught up in the moment, nothing else seemed to matter at the time. What were the odds of this happening again? The thought hadn’t even entered my brain until after Crowley’s attack. It’s been over a week, and I can still hear his words as clear as the day he said them. Sam didn’t come back to you, choosing girl after girl. Would you like to know the real cause of your parent’s accident? You are the ultimate bargaining chips. He must’ve known; it would explain his taunts about having Cordy call him ‘father.’ The buzzing of my phone pulls me out of my thoughts, I expect to see the timer, but it’s Dean’s name popping up on the caller ID. I reject the call without a second thought; he and Sam are the last people I want to talk to right now.

I haven’t even had the chance to put my phone back down before it starts vibrating again. A glance tells me it’s Dean calling again. “It’s 7 am, Dean,” I grumble, staring down at my phone. Whatever is causing him to reach out after nearly three months of complete silence must be important, at least to him. I hesitate briefly before rejecting the call.

I check the timer, two minutes. Crowley’s voice is in my head, and I’m back to that night again. Your precious Y/N is running out of time, Sam. As soon as we moved in, I was going to reach out to Sam, tell him I was ready for him to be a part of mine and Cordy’s lives. We still had our issues to work through, but Cordy had expressed more than once that she was ready to know him, and at the time, I started to forgive him. Sam repeatedly called after Crowley had left me, but Crowley’s words were all too fresh in my mind.

I peer into my room to see Cordy sleeping soundly in my bed. She’s afraid to leave me at night, something that I can’t blame her for. As I watch her sleep, my mind drifts back to the morning after Crowley’s attack.

I was trying to keep myself calm as I read through Sam’s multiple apology-ridden messages. I didn’t care that he was sorry; it couldn’t make up for the fact he and Dean had left us so utterly vulnerable to their enemies. I watched from the living room window as Cordy walked back over; I didn’t know how to explain my injury to her and how much of the truth I could tell her without further traumatizing her. I couldn’t lie my way out of it, but demons were not something I knew how to explain to a ten-year-old. Tears welled in Cordy’s eyes the minute she caught sight of me; she could see through my forced smile, she ran to me and wrapped her arms tight around my waist.

“Hey.” I tried to soothe her, using my good arm to rub a hand down her back. “It’s okay, I’m okay,” I half lied. “Couple of months, and I’ll be good as new.”

Cordy’s grip briefly loosened when I moved us onto the couch, I couldn’t pick her up like I wanted to, but I wasn’t going to stop her from crawling into my lap and burying her head into my shoulder. I let her weep against me; through her sobs, I heard a muffled ‘mom.’

It had been weeks since she’d called out for mom or dad when she was scared. By the time we had moved, her nightmares about the accident had become fewer and farther in between. Cordy had taken to climbing into my bed and letting me lull her back to sleep whenever one had woken her up.

“I know,” I whispered, trying to keep my tears at bay. “I miss them too.”

Cordy pulled away, her face blotchy, eyes blood-shot, and shook her head. “You’re my mom, Y/N,” she mumbled. “I do-don’t wanna lo-lose you too.” Cordy splutters through her tears. “You-you’re all I– I have le-left.”

I choked back a sob; she’s right; we only have each other. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t count on Sam to be there if something ever did happen to me. Cordy already lost one set of parents; I didn’t want to think about her losing Sam or me.

The vibration of my phone causes me to jump as it brings me back to the present. I sigh as I look down at the phone, rejecting the call. “Take the hint, Dean,” I mutter to myself. I check the timer, thirty seconds. I reach for the first test and vaguely remember an x-ray technician asking me if there was any possibility of me being pregnant. At the time, I didn’t even think about it; my night with Sam was the furthest thing on my mind.

I mindlessly chew away at my fingernails as the phone vibrates again, and I silently plead for it to stop. Relief floods through me when it does; maybe it’s finally gotten through to Dean that I don’t want to speak to him. The timer chirps and I grab the test off the counter and cover the results box with my hands. I close my eyes for a brief moment, praying that somehow I’m wrong. I take a shuddering breath as I slowly open my eyes, letting them land on the word ‘pregnant.’

Dean’s name briefly fills the screen again before I reject the call, setting my phone down on the tile. Surely he’ll get the message that I am intentionally not answering. I pull the second test off of the counter, pregnant. I don’t bother with the third. Even if somehow it was negative, the two positive pregnancy tests can’t both be wrong. I choke back a sob as I run through all of my options in my head. I can’t believe this is happening again. What am I going to tell Cordy? What about Sam? We weren’t in a good place when he left—that stupid fight.

The loud buzzing doesn’t just annoy me this time; it makes me want to pick up my phone and throw it against the wall. I grab my phone off the floor, and for a brief moment, I think of smashing into hundreds of pieces. I shake the thought out of my head before contemplating whether I should answer the call, my thumb hovering between the red and green circles.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you, Dean,” I say before ending the call, not giving him the chance to respond. I look back down at the test again, praying, willing it to change. I know it won’t, it was the first time I had sex in months, and of course, it’s with Sam fucking Winchester who had to go and get me pregnant. “Perfect vessel for Winchester children,” I mumble and let out a dry laugh. I wonder if the angels knew about this one, I chuckle to try to keep myself from crying, but the tears fall anyway, and my laughter quickly devolves into sobbing. Pregnant. Again. My phone chirps, 6 missed calls - Dean Winchester.

“Fuck,” I mutter as his name pops up again. I push the bathroom door closed, not wanting to wake Cordy. I clear my throat and wipe the tears away, taking a long and calming breath before accepting the call. “What do you want, Dean?”

“Y/N, don’t hang up, please, just–” Dean sighs, “I know you’re pissed, and you have every right, but–”

“Pissed is the understatement of the year.”

“Y/N–”

“The fucking King of Hell showed up on my doorstep. Came into my home and threatened the lives of both my daughter and me.” I hiss while trying to keep my voice down. “You know, I actually believed Sam when he said that Cas would show up if I prayed to him. Do you wanna know how many times I prayed for him to help? He did nothing, showing up hours later, giving some bullshit excuse about us not being in ‘real’ danger.”

“I–”

“What’s your excuse, Dean? Are you calling to apologize? You think that’ll make it all better? I don’t want your apology.” I can hear him huffing in anger on the other end. “Have a nice life, Dean.”

“Wait just a goddamn minute, Y/N,” he snaps before letting out a loud sigh and softening his voice. “I– I’m sorry. You have to believe that we didn’t know. If we even thought there was a chance of Crowley... we wouldn’t have let it happen. Sammy and I would’ve shown you how to protect yourself. Y/N, Sam has more guilt about Crowley than you’ll ever know. We didn’t think he knew about you or Cordy.”

“He said he’d been watching me for weeks,” I say, memories of that night playing in my head. “Weeks, Dean.”

“You would have been safe if you had stayed in Weldon,” Dean grumbles.

“The phone works both ways, Dean,” I murmur, trying to lessen my own guilt about leaving. “If you or Sam had bothered to keep in touch, you’d have known that we were planning to move.”

“Bullshit, Y/N,” Dean growls. “You stopped responding to Sam’s messages the day we left Weldon. You didn’t want to accept his apology, and at the time, as much as it broke him, he understood. You had no intention of telling us that you were moving. You can spout out crap about us not reaching out to you, Y/N, but you said it yourself, the phone works both ways.”

I let Dean’s words sink in. I’d threatened Sam with taking Cordy far away from him, but that wasn’t what the move was about; Cordy and I needed a change. I was able to leave so much of my baggage behind. I didn’t have to lie anymore; I didn’t have to carry the shame that my parents had made me feel for years.

“You asked for space, for time, and we were– are trying to respect that. You asked us to leave Weldon, and we did. I practically had to drag Sam outta there. He didn’t wanna leave you again, but I got his ass in the car, and we left. And all I heard from Weldon to Lebanon was how he wanted to tell you how sorry he was and that he was afraid that you would feel abandoned by him. It killed him to leave you and Cordy; you two are the only family we have left, and then you moved away without a single word. If you’d told us that you were planning on leaving Weldon, we would’ve found a way to protect you and Cordy. If you weren’t ready to be around Sam, we could’ve sent another hunter to protect you and Cordy.”

“We shouldn’t need protection, Dean. For ten years, we didn’t need protection. But the moment Sam steps back into my life, suddenly Cordy and I are targets for your enemies,” I let my eyes fall back on to the test in my hands. “I have to protect my family, Dean, and if that means Sam can’t be a part of our lives, then so be it. I refuse to live in constant fear that something like that could happen again. I’m not going to be some damsel in distress. I told Cas; Cordy and I are not bargaining chips.”

“The Crowley who attacked you doesn't exist anymore, Y/N. He's no longer the King of Hell; he's nothing more than a regular human. Crowley can't hurt you or Cordy ever again.”

“You can’t expect me to believe that’s true, Dean.”

“It is, Y/N.” Dean sighs, “Cas told us he warded your house. Wherever you are, you and Cordy are safe. I give you my word.”

“Your word isn’t the one I want, Dean. You’re not the reason Crowley came after us; Sam is. All of it was about him and me.”

“You don’t think that I care–?”

“I know you do, Dean,” I sigh, “but you’re on the phone with me instead of Sam. You’re the one playing peace-keeper. Sam should be the one telling me all of these things, not you. If Sam wants me to forgive him and think about letting him back into mine and Cordy’s life, then I need to hear it from him.”

Dean is silent on the other line, and through the static of the phone, I can hear a muffled voice coming through a speaker. A deep breath cuts through the silence before he speaks again.

“Sam’s– Sammy’s hurt, Y/N,” Dean’s voice hitches as if he’s trying to keep himself calm. “It’s– it’s bad.” Suddenly, all the background noises I’ve been hearing make sense. “He was doing okay for a couple of days, but then he took a turn for the worse. Sam’s…” Dean trails off briefly, and I fear that I already know what his next words will be. “You should be here, Y/N, you and Cordy. Sam needs his girls by his side.”

I smile briefly at Dean’s words before my heart falls into my stomach. There’s something he isn’t telling me, and every breath I try to take becomes more difficult. I grip the test tighter in my hands, and I try to let go of all of my anger that had been residing in me since the night we fought. I regret the last words spoken between us, fueled by rage and fear; we don’t need you; I should’ve taken the words back.

“Where are you?”

“Linwood Memorial Hospital in Randolf, New York.” Dean doesn’t hesitate.

“New York? You’re not in Kansas? I thought–”

“Randolf, New York,” Dean reiterates, “Linwood Memorial Hospital.”

I tell Dean that I will have to get a flight to him, and he insists on giving me a scammed credit card to pay for it. A part of me almost doesn’t want to take it, but after seeing how much such a last-minute flight would cost, I accept it.

I call the school as soon as I hang up with Dean, explaining that Cordy will be out for at least the rest of the week. The receptionist seems to understand, reminding me to reach out to her teachers for lessons and homework.

I step into my closet, grabbing two bags, and begin packing my belongings as quietly as I can. I set my bag down at the top of the stairs before repeating the process in Cordy’s room. I place Cordy’s bag next to my own before glancing back into my room. Cordy’s still sleeping, arms tightly gripping her teddy bear. I don't want to wake her, not yet, so I gently close my bedroom door before making my way downstairs. When I open the front door, there’s nothing but the sounds of nature greeting me. A few of the houses are bathed in an orange light where the sun is just barely peeking over rooftops. I step out onto the dewy grass, setting the bags down. I relish in the quiet of the neighborhood for a moment and let myself get lost in thought.

“Y/N,” a low voice says as their hand lands on my arm.

“Jesus!” I yelp, balling my fist and ready to throw a punch. I turn quickly to see my neighbor, Jason, standing behind me.

“Whoa! Sorry,” Jason puts his hands up in surrender, and I unclench my fist. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Someone oughta put a bell on you,” I laugh slightly. “It’s not polite to sneak up on people. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?”

“I called your name a couple of times,” he shrugs. “I guess you were off somewhere else?”

“Yeah, something like that.” I nod.

“Here, let me help you,” Jason picks up the two bags. “Looks like you’re makin’ a break for it.”

“I guess you could say that,” I shrug and walk towards my car, Jason matching my steps. “Thanks.”

“Don’t tell me we’ve scared you outta the neighborhood already?” Jason chuckles. “Is it Old Lady Nelson?” I try to speak, but he playfully cuts me off. “She’s a witch, you know.”

“Is she?” I raise an eyebrow and pop the trunk. “What kind of witch? Do I need to keep a bucket of water on hand?”

“No, more like the fortune-telling kind,” he grins, slowing his steps, before stopping at the trunk. “She paid me a visit the other day and said I would meet someone.”

“Oh?” I ask as he sets the two bags down, and he nods his head. Suddenly, I’m painfully aware that he’s flirting and that I may be unintentionally encouraging it.

“She said that she would have a-” Jason’s blue eyes dart around me, “a robin’s nest in her yard. Oh!” He dramatically yells as I close the trunk. ”Will you look at that?” He points to the robin’s nest and winks. I shake my head; we both know it was there long before I moved in. “So whaddya say, Y/N? Can I take you out for dinner sometime?”

“Cut right to the chase, don’t you?” I tease him. “Listen, Jason, I think you’re really nice, but–”

“But,” Jason sighs and frowns slightly, “you’re not interested?”

“I’m– I–” I don’t know how to describe my relationship with Sam. He isn’t my boyfriend, but he’s more than just the father of my daughter. “I’m with someone, Cordy’s dad. We’re going to be visiting him for the next couple of days.”

“Shit, Y/N, I’m sorry,” Jason runs his hands through his short hair and gives me an embarrassed smile. “Cynthia told me you were single and has been pushing for me to ask you out. If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have–”

“We have a complicated relationship,” I laugh weakly. “‘Sides you deserve someone who doesn’t have a mountain of baggage.”

“Well, if Mr. Complicated doesn’t wise up, he better be prepared to put up a fight for you,” he teases, and a slight tinge of pink fills his cheeks. “I don’t give up easily, and baggage doesn’t bother me.”

“You’re sweet,” I reach for his arm and gently squeeze it, “but you hardly know me. For all you know, I could be some stage five clinger psychopath or– or an assassin.”

“Then we’ll be two peas in a pod,” Jason smirks, stepping closer to me and brushing a stray hair away from my face. For a moment, I lean into his touch, but I stop myself.

“I have to go,” I exclaim and run back into the house, slamming the door behind me.

I scold myself as I pace my living room. Sam’s in some hospital, and you’re outside flirting with the neighbor? The clock on the wall catches my attention, 8 am, we have to leave soon.

“Y/N?” Cordy’s scratchy voice pulls me out of my thoughts; she looks to be on the verge of tears. “I woke up, and you weren’t there.”

“Oh, kid, I’m sorry.” I close the gap between us and let her settle against me. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ve had a busy morning. You and me, we’re going on a trip.”

“Really?” Cordy’s face lights up, “what kind of a trip?”

“We’re gonna visit Sam,” Cordy’s smile grows; this is something she’s wanted for the last month. “He’s sick,” I explain, and Cordy’s smile fades.

“Is he gonna be okay?”

“I hope so, kid. But I don’t know, that’s why we’re gonna go see him.”

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

When we arrive in Randolf, it’s almost 9 pm. Cordy and I are exhausted, unused to this kind of travel. It makes me wonder how Sam and Dean live in the Impala for hours and sometimes days on end. The hospital’s visiting hours will be over by now, so I send a message to Dean, letting him know that we are staying at a hotel for the night. He tells me that he has already added us to Sam's visitor list and that he would be under the name Dougherty. I crawl into the large bed, Cordy’s already sleeping soundly, and let my mind wander.

Sam is going to make it out of this, isn’t he? Will he be happy when I tell him about the baby? Will he come back to Lawrence with us when all of this is over? Will he walk away from Dean for the three of us? Will Dean let him?

It’s still early when a turning in my stomach makes me bolt towards the bathroom, emptying my stomach into the porcelain bowl.

“Y/N?” Cordy calls from outside the bathroom, and before I can muster out an answer, I feel the bile rising in my throat again. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Go back to bed, Cordy,” I say more harshly than I mean to. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

When I open the bathroom door, Cordy is still standing there, tears filling her eyes. “Are you mad at me?” She asks as a tear slips out.

“Oh, kid, I’m sorry I yelled at you,” I crouch down and meet her eyes. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Are you sick too?” Cordy sniffles.

“No,” I shake my head. “I’m– I’m gonna have a baby.”

Guilt overwhelms me as I pull into the hospital’s parking lot; I need Sam to know that I still love him, that all the words exchanged weren’t how I truly felt. Ten years of thinking he had run away, and the anger that exploded from us both drove my words. I know, deep down, that Sam wouldn’t have left if he’d known the truth. We were scared kids and didn’t know how not to believe the words of our parents. I know that if either one of us could go back, we would.

Even though Cas changed her memories, Cordy’s body tenses as we step into the hospital. She grips my hand tightly as we walk to the main desk and check-in. I ask for Sam Dougherty’s room, pulling out my ID and handing it to the receptionist. She smiles warmly as she hands over the visitor passes she printed for us.

“I need to ask you something, Cordy,” I say as I kneel to place the badge on the front of her shirt. “When we get up to Sam’s room, do you want to see him?” She fidgets at the mention of being in a hospital room. “You don’t have to; it’s your decision.”

“I don’t know,” she answers sheepishly. “If you want me to-”

“No, kid. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to. It’s okay if you don’t,” I squeeze her arm. “I know we’ve talked about you getting to know Sam as your dad, but you’ve only met him a couple of times. If you’re not ready to see him, I’m not going to force you.”

“Is he gonna look scary?” She murmurs, looking down at the floor.

I don’t know how to answer the question. Dean said he was hurt badly. If Sam wasn’t going to get better from this, I don’t know if I want her one of her only memories of him to be attached to machines, bruised, and broken. If she’s only going to have one real memory of Sam, let it be of the day that he visited her after the accident.

“How ‘bout,” I offer, “I go and see him first, by myself. And if I think he looks too scary, I’ll tell you.”

“Sammy isn’t gonna be mad?” Cordy looks up to meet my eyes.

“No, of course not,” I say firmly, “he wouldn’t want you to be afraid.” She nods and grabs my hand as we head up to Sam’s room.

I leave Cordy just outside Sam’s room. She looks around for a moment before I hand over my tablet and headphones, letting her drown out the noises of the hospital. I hesitate to leave her, and when a nurse volunteers to sit with her, I graciously accept. I place a kiss on her forehead, whispering one four three in her ear before heading into Sam’s room. I peer into the open door of the room. Sam’s long frame fills the bed. He looks emaciated; his face bruised, eyes and cheeks sunken in, and skin stretched taut over his bones.

Dean’s at his side, hunched over; I can see his mouth moving but can’t make out anything he’s saying. I wipe the forming tears away, knocking softly on the door. Dean jumps slightly at the sound, and a look of relief washes over his face when he sees me.

“Y/N,” Dean frowns when he catches sight of me, his eyes immediately fall on my broken arm. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers as he wraps his arms around me. “Cas said he tried to heal–”

“What happened, Dean?” I pull away from him, focusing my attention on Sam. “How did he get this bad?”

“Did Cas tell you what we were trying to do?”

“Said something about closing Hell Gates,” I can’t take my eyes off of Sam’s body. Dean leads me to a chair, letting me sit down before moving to the opposite side of the bed. He grabs a second chair, pulling it around so that he’s sitting next to me.

“Yeah. What we didn’t know when Sam started them is that to complete the Trials, Sam would have to die.” Dean looks back over to Sam. “I couldn’t let that happen. I tried to convince him to stop, Y/N, but he wouldn’t listen. He couldn’t stop,” Dean seems to be reassuring himself just as much as me. “The only reason he’s probably still alive right now is that he collapsed before he could finish it.”

“Where’s Cas? Can’t he do something?” I ask, hopefully. “He can heal Sam, can’t he?”

“Sam’s been too damaged for months for Cas to do anything,” Dean sighs. “Tried to help a while back, and even then, he couldn’t do anything. I haven’t let that stop me, Y/N,” Dean offers a sad smile. “I’ve tried praying, but Cas won’t answer.”

“What about another angel?” I’m desperate, taking Sam’s lifeless hand in my own. “Cas can’t be the only one who can help.”

“The thing about angels, Y/N, is most of ‘em are dicks.” Dean lets out a pained laugh. “And they’re not exactly fans of Sam and me. Most won’t help even if they can.”

“You have to do something, Dean,” I plead. “You can’t let him die. You said you’d watch out for him. He can’t die, not now; I need him. Me and Cordy, we need him.”

“Y/N.”

“You’re friends with a freaking angel, you know the King of Hell, but you can’t do anything to save Sam? You’re not trying hard enough, Dean.” I direct all of the guilt I’m feeling at Dean; a part of me knows it’s not fair to him, but I can’t help it. “All this will be for nothing if he’s gone. You tried to stop him and now look at him,” I direct my attention back to Sam.

Dean silently takes my verbal lashing, his emerald eyes filling with tears.

“Screw you,” he says, barely above a whisper. “Sam is my brother, and we’ve been through more shit together than you will ever know.” I can hear the pain in Dean’s voice, but he remains calm and quiet, and I notice him discreetly wiping a tear away. “I’ve watched him die too many times already, and I wasn’t gonna let it happen again. I couldn’t let another Winchester grow up without a parent; me and Sam, we practically raised ourselves. Cordy deserves to have both of her parents raising her.”

“Dean–”

“You don’t know how messed up Sam got, Y/N!” Dean’s face reddens, and his voice starts to rise. “He was about to die, and he didn’t even care! If you’d heard what he said in that church– He thinks that you and Cordy are better off without him; that you can just replace him. He’s not replaceable, Y/N. I was trying to talk him off a ledge, and you wanna know the worst part? I’m the reason he got so messed up. I was the one that was supposed to be doing the Trials, not Sam. I could’ve finished them, and he could’ve finally gotten out. I had to save my brother; I will always do whatever it takes to save him. You can put the blame on me for how he is now, but don’t act like you wouldn’t have at least tried to stop him if you were there.”

“Dean,” I can barely speak, “I’m sorry. I just–”

“D’you know what he’s wanted since we were kids?” Dean doesn’t wait for me to respond and focuses back on Sam. “A normal life. He never wanted to be a hunter, follow in dad’s footsteps; he wanted to be his own person. I’m the one who dragged his ass away from Stanford, I’m the reason he wasn’t there when Jessica was murdered, and I know that deep down, a part of him will never be able to forgive me for it. Sam had his chance at normal, but he gave it up for me. If I hadn’t pulled him into that hunt, he probably wouldn’t have come back. He’d be living some apple-pie life with you or Jessica; married, a couple of kids running around, a dog, house with a white picket fence.”

“I don’t have a white picket fence,” I say softly, garnering a small chuckle from Dean. “But, I want all that with him. I want him around, to be a father to Cordy and- and...” I stop myself from saying any more, reluctant to tell him about this baby as well. If I tell him and Sam doesn’t make it through this, I can’t have Dean as a looming presence in Cordy and this baby’s life, reminding all of us of something we can never have. “Before Crowley, I was ready to find a way to make it work with Sam. After Crowley left, I was so scared, Dean, so angry. I still am, but I want us to move past all that. Cordy’s ready to know her dad.”

“Cordy knows?” Dean asks, his eyes going wide at my confession, “I thought you were– You said you didn’t want to tell her, that you wanted to wait until she was ready?” Dean’s brow furrows, and I can hear the anger in his voice. I had insisted to both brothers that Cordy wasn’t ready to know the truth, but now, only a few months later, she was suddenly ready?

“I was,” I focus my attention back on Sam, and I can feel the daggers Dean is staring into me. “That morning, after you left? That box of photos was still out,” I explain. I could tell he thought that I’d lied to him that night. “I’d meant to put them away, but after everything that happened, I was exhausted and pretty much passed out on the couch. When I woke up, Cordy was going through it and started asking questions. She was putting everything together before I could even come up with an excuse. The kid’s too smart for her own good,” I chuckle, and Dean relaxes slightly. “It was rough; Cordy was angry and confused, but she’s adjusting, we both are. She’s been getting used to the idea, and for the last month, she’s been asking me about getting to know Sam.”

“I’ll find a way to get him back to the both of you,” Dean promises, reaching out to give my hand a firm squeeze. “I promise, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Dean and I sit in silence for a few minutes before a doctor joins us. He explains the extent of Sam’s injuries: massive internal burns, oxygen deprivation, the coma is Sam’s last resort of self-preservation.

“He’s dying,” Dean mutters.

“If he continues on this trajectory, I’m afraid so. The machines may be able to keep him alive, but with injuries such as these–”

“There isn’t anything you can do?” I question the doctor.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but it’s in God’s hands now,” the doctor smiles at me sympathetically.

“God’s hands?” Dean huffs, and his face hardens. “You’re a medical professional, and you’re telling us that my brother’s life is in God’s hands? What, is that supposed to be some sort of– of comfort?”

“Dean,” I sigh, “he’s just saying–”

“No, Y/N,” Dean snaps at me. He immediately gives me an apologetic smile before standing up to meet the doctor at the edge of the bed. “God has nothing to do with this equation. If I wanted to leave it up to God, I wouldn’t have brought him here in the first place. Do your job, save my brother.”

The doctor doesn’t flinch at Dean’s verbal assault, taking it as gracefully as one can. He apologizes again before leaving us alone. Dean refuses to sit back down, pacing around the room and muttering under his breath. I focus back on Sam, squeezing his hand tighter, praying for some kind of response to show that he’s still there, fighting his way back to Cordy and me.

“You have to fight, Sam,” I lean in and whisper. “I didn’t mean what I said that night; I was angry and scared. We do need you. You can’t leave Cordy and me, not like this.”

The room is silent, save for the heart monitor beeping steadily and my sniffling. Dean has stopped pacing, and when I look up, he’s staring at Sam and me, waiting as much as I am for some kind of sign that Sam isn’t giving up. I wipe my tears away and take a long, calming breath before speaking.

“Cordy’s outside,” I say as I leave my seat. “I’m– I’m gonna talk to her, see if she wants to see Sam.”

Dean nods slightly, and as I walk by him, he pulls me into a hug, “I’ll find a way to fix this, Y/N,” he reassures me. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get him better again.”

When I get back to Cordy, she is intensely focused on the tablet in her hands. I take another long inhale, hoping that I can hide the evidence of my tears. I playfully tug at her headphones, pulling her attention away from the tablet, and I see she’s watching a video from a channel called Ghostfacers.

“Learn anything interesting?” I ask as I take the seat next to her.

“Nah,” she shrugs and turns off the tablet, “those guys are weirdos.”

I laugh as she puts the tablet back into my bag. I try to figure out the best way to breach the subject of Sam to Cordy.

“How’s Sammy?” Cordy asks as if she can read my mind, and I give her a tight-lipped smile.

“He’s– He’s not doing okay.” I try to think of a way to explain his condition to her, something that will make sense. “You know how sometimes when you’re sick, you just want to sleep?” Cordy nods. “Well, right now, Sam is really sick, so he’s gonna stay asleep until he’s better.”

“How long is Sammy gonna sleep?” Cordy questions innocently. “Are we gonna stay until he wakes up?”

“I– I don’t know, kid,” I tell her honestly. “It could be days, weeks, or,” I struggle with the next words, “Sam may never wake up.”

Cordy seems to understand what I’m saying, and I’m thankful that I don’t have to say the words, ‘Sam’s dying.’ I don’t push her to respond, letting her think over whatever she may want to say next. I keep my own conflicted feelings at bay; half wants to take her back to Lawrence and never talk about this ever again; the other half wants her to go in and see him so that at least she can get a proper goodbye.

“Can I see him?” Cordy asks after a few moments of silence. “Would that be okay?”

“If that’s what you want, kid,” I grab her hand in mine and gently squeeze it before walking us back towards Sam’s room.

Dean’s still pacing the floor when I walk in; Cordy stays behind me, gripping my hand tightly. I try to move forward, but she pulls back against me, stopping at the doorway. Dean peers around me before closing the gap between us and crouches down to meet Cordy at her eye-level.

“Hey, Princess, do you remember me?” Dean asks sweetly.

Cordy smiles and nods, “Y/N says you’re my uncle.”

“That’s right,” Dean’s eyes shine with pride. “I’m Sammy’s big brother. Do you know what big brothers do?” he asks, and Cordy shakes her head. “We protect our little brothers. We don’t let anything happen to them.”

“Can I talk to him?” She looks between Dean and me. “Is that okay?”

“Sure, kid,” I smile weakly.

Cordy lets go of my hand and makes her way to the empty chair by Sam’s side. Dean gives my arm a reassuring squeeze as I walk by, and I sit in the chair that he previously occupied. Cordy doesn’t say anything at first, seemingly studying Sam silently, she wasn’t one to normally shy away from a conversation, but this is a new experience for her.

“Why don’t you tell Sam about school?” I suggest, knowing that once she starts talking, it’ll be hard to get her to stop.

Cordy nods before explaining in unbelievable detail about her teachers and classmates. She tells him all about our new house and how she decorated her room because she’s not a little kid anymore, which causes a small laugh from both Dean and me. She speaks non-stop for what seems like hours, telling Sam everything he would ever need to know to become integrated into our lives.

“Definitely Sam’s kid,” Dean jokes from the edge of the bed, listening just as intently as Sam would. Cordy doesn’t pay any attention and goes right back to chattering.

After a few minutes, Dean gets up and gestures for me to join him outside the room. He tells me he has a plan, that it could be our only hope to save Sam, and gently orders me not to let anyone else into the room until he gets back. I want to pry for more details, but it must be a long-shot or something dangerous if Dean’s not giving them.

When I walk back into the room, Cordy is telling Sam how she hopes that he will be awake for her birthday, and my heart breaks. Unless Dean can pull off some miracle, Sam won’t recover from this; his body is far too damaged.

When Dean returns a half-hour later, a bruise is blossoming on his cheek as if he’s been in a fight, and a large man follows closely behind him. Something about him is unsettling, and Cordy stops speaking when she sees him, leaving her seat to move into my lap.

“Y/N, I think you should take Cordy outside,” Dean suggests, and the man eyes the two of us.

For a moment, I want to protest, but Dean hardens his face, and it seems that he’s as wary of this stranger as I am.

“Okay,” I nod, getting out of the chair and grabbing Cordy by the hand. She tugs against me and takes a few steps towards the head of the bed. She leans over so much that only her toes are touching the ground and does her best to hug Sam and places a kiss on his cheek. If I had any less control over myself, I’d be a sobbing mess at the sight—damn hormones.

I give Cordy a small smile when she turns around and returns her hand to mine. I settle her back into the same seat before returning to Sam’s room.

“Dean? What’s going on? Who is this?”

“My name is Ezekiel,” the man faces me, “I am not here to harm you or your daughter, Y/N.”

“How do you–”

“Angel,” Dean answers before I can finish asking my question. “He’s here to help, right?” Ezekiel nods. “Even cut-off from Heaven, you can still heal him, can’t you?”

“Your brother is very weak.”

“No, no,” Dean growls, “I saved your life, and you said you could help. That was our deal: I fight, you save.”

“Please,” I say, stepping closer to Ezekiel. “You can’t do anything?”

“There are no good ways, I’m afraid.”

“Then what are some of the bad ones?” Dean says. “He’s dying, let’s hear ‘em, good or bad.”

Ezekiel explains that he can help from the inside. I watch as Dean contemplates what Ezekiel says, looking to me for some kind of relief. I shake my head, and I tell him I don’t understand.

“Possession,” Dean explains.

“It is your decision, Y/N, and yours, Dean,” Ezekiel sits down.

“No, it’s not,” Dean murmurs. “It’s Sam’s. He’d never say yes to being some angel’s meatsuit.”

“I understand, but without my help, your brother will die.”

Dean turns his attention to Sam and sighs, “do it.”

“Dean,” I pull him towards me. “You can’t seriously be considering this.”

“He can fix Sam, Y/N!” Dean argues. “This is the only solution I can think of that doesn’t involve something worse.”

“Worse than you letting some angel possess him?” I question in disbelief. “I know you want to help him, Dean. But this isn’t the way, tell me you don’t know that.”

“What, you want to leave it in God's hands? Just wait and see if maybe he comes out of this? Those Trials– The person completing them is meant to die; it’s supposed to be the ultimate sacrifice. I say Sam’s sacrificed enough in his life. He deserves to live, Y/N.”

“I don’t want him gone either, Dean, but this should be his choice, not yours or mine. You know him better than anyone. Do you think this is how he’d want you to save him? He wouldn’t want this, Dean. I don’t want this.”

“You told me to fix him, that you want to keep him in your life, Y/N. That’s what I’m doing.”

“I know, but–” I turn my gaze to Ezekiel and then back to Sam. “This isn’t right, Dean. You know it isn’t.”

Dean shrugs me off of him and steps closer to Ezekiel, and they begin talking in hushed tones. My eyes land on Sam, and for a moment, I consider what Dean is saying, thinking that it may be the only way to keep Sam in my and Cordy’s lives. I watch Ezekiel; his voice is too low for me to make out any exact words. There’s something he’s not telling us. Ezekiel repeats his offer.

“He’d never say yes to you,” Dean murmurs.

“But he would say yes to you or Y/N,” Ezekiel offers, his eyes land between us. "If you want me to help Sam, we must act quickly." Despite his words, there is no urgency in Ezekiel's voice, no emotion. "Your brother doesn't have much time."

"No," I murmur, shaking my head when Dean faces me. "You're not going to use me to manipulate Sam. There's gotta be another way, Dean."

“There's not, Y/N," Dean sighs. "You heard the doctor; there's nothing more they can do."

"That's not what he said, Dean," I argue, even though from what we were told, there was little chance of Sam recovering. I have to hope that somehow he can get better. "People wake up from comas every day. There are new therapies–"

"They will not work, Y/N," Ezekiel states matter-of-factly. "The damage done to Sam's body cannot be healed by mere mortals. Sam will die unless you allow me to help."

"If I’m going to consider this, you show me, prove to me how bad he is," Dean's desperate; we both are. Ezekiel moves, placing one hand on Sam and the other on Dean, and both men go still for a few moments. I stand there, unable to do anything but watch as the heart monitor beeps become further apart.

"What're you doing, Sam?" Dean says barely above a whisper. He turns to face me again, and I can see the fear and panic playing on his face. He turns back to Ezekiel. "Go in as me to convince him."

"Dean!"

“Tell him I gotta plan, that he has to trust me," Dean ignores me and instructs Ezekiel. "And– and that he has a kid that needs him."

I can’t take it anymore, and I don’t want to be anymore complicit in Dean letting Ezekiel possess Sam than I already am. Dean and Ezekiel are too caught up in their conversation to notice me walking towards Sam. If Dean wants Ezekiel to save Sam, he's not going to use us to do it.

I lean forward and whisper in his ear, “I’m sorry.” I squeeze Sam’s lifeless hand and place a kiss on his forehead. "One four three."

I don’t say anything else to Dean or Ezekiel and reluctantly leave the room. I try to keep myself calm when I get back to Cordy, giving her a pained smile that I hope she doesn't see through. She doesn’t question me when I take her hand in mine and begin walking us towards the elevators. I know I’ll have to explain why we’re leaving at some point, but I can’t do it now, not when I can hardly wrap my brain around it.

We’re halfway down the hall when I hear Dean calling after me, I do my best to ignore it, but it becomes more difficult when Cordy points it out as if somehow I don’t hear him. Dean's voice continues to follow, and I can see Cordy giving me a questioning look out of the corner of my eye.

“Y/N!” Dean’s hand lands on my shoulder, only moments after we reach the elevator bay. “Don’t leave, please, I’m begging you,” he pleads. “It’s the only way.”

"You're not doing this in front of Cordy, Dean," I scold him before turning my attention to Cordy. "Go take a seat over there, please," I gesture to a row of empty chairs.

"But, Y/N–" Cordy tries to protest.

"Now, Cordy." She pouts, and once she is far enough away that she can no longer hear us, Dean tries to start in again, but I beat him to it. "How fucking dare you. You think I'm gonna let you use Cordy and me to trick Sam into letting some,” I lower my voice as a staff worker walks by, “angel possess him?”

"I’m doing this for you, for Cordy.”

“You’re doing this for you, Dean,” I argue back. “You don’t even know this guy. He could be lying to you. How do you know he’s not going to just–” I can feel myself getting worked up and take a deep breath. “I might not know anything about angels, but you can’t tell me that Ezekiel doesn’t seem to be a little off?”

“So, what, you just– just want to let him die? You're ready to just give up on him?” Dean’s face grows red, and his forehead crinkles.

“Stop it, Dean,” I snap. “I want him back too, but this isn’t the way.” I take a deep breath. “I'm not okay with this, Dean, and you know Sam wouldn't be either."

“What about Cordy, everything you've told me? You want her to grow up without her dad?”

“Screw you, Dean.” I bite back, the palm of my hand connecting with his cheek. “Cordy is my kid and the most important person in my world. I won’t let you guilt me into thinking you're doing this for her.”

“We’re outta options, Y/N. What else do you want me to do? I can’t– I won’t walk away when there’s a chance to save him. Sam’ll–”

“Sam will never forgive you, Dean.”

“He might be pissed at me for the rest of his life, but at least he’ll be alive, Y/N.”

"I can't stop you, Dean. But if you go through with it: making Sam's choice for him, then you're making mine too." I call out for Cordy, and she joins me by my side again. "Say goodbye to Dean," I instruct her gently, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Don't do this," Dean whispers, and I shake my head, twisting slightly to press the button on the wall. I can't stay, not when I have two other people to think about. "Please."

Cordy hesitantly places her arms around Dean and mumbles goodbye to him. When she steps back, I lay my hands on her shoulder and pull her closer to me so that she can't see the tears slipping from my eyes.

"Goodbye, Dean," I say as I hear the doors ding open and turn around to step into the elevator. Dean's emerald eyes are filled with tears as I face him a final time. "I hope you make the right choice," I whisper as the doors close.

As we exit the hospital, Cordy questions why we’re leaving, and I struggle to find an answer. We'll be back on a plane to Lawrence tomorrow, and I do everything I can to evade her questions about Sam, eventually settling on Sam may never wake up.

We are walking into the house when a backfiring car sends me over the edge. Cordy helplessly watches as I’m thrust back into my memories of the night of the werewolf attack; its amber eyes staring me down, its claws swiping at me, how I had to lie to everyone about what happened, how I still have to. Sam never leaving my side until we were pulled apart by my parents.

My whole world is crashing down around me, and all I want is Sam. I want to feel his arms around me again, telling me that everything will be okay. I want to sink my body into his, taking solace in his comforting embrace, and let myself get lost in him. I want him to be with us forever, having the family he’s wanted since I told him I was pregnant all those years ago.

My Sam may be gone forever, and the only thing I can do is pray that Dean made the right decision.

Three Years Later

“Cordelia Mary!” I yell from the bottom of the stairs. “Your butt better be down here in five minutes.”

“Mo-om!” I hear her door opening, and she steps onto the landing. “That’s not enough time–”

“Too bad, kid,” I huff. “I mean it, Cordy, five minutes, or I'm taking your phone away.” A grumbled okay comes from the top of the stairs. I head back towards the kitchen, blue and green orbs watching me as I walk back in. “What’re we gonna do about her, Sammy?” I laugh as I bend down and scoop him up in my arms. “No ideas, huh?”

"You yell at sissy." He giggles when I nuzzle into his neck and blow raspberries on his chubby cheeks. “Sissy in t’ouble?"

"No, baby. Sissy isn't in trouble," I sit him down in his chair and run my fingers through his chestnut locks. Sammy’s eyes widen, and a smile forms when he looks behind me.

Large hands wrapping around my waist cause me to jump back and let out a yelp. I turn around to a cheeky grin; he’s obviously very proud of himself.

“You jerk,” I swat at his chest, trying to retain my serious demeanor, which becomes harder to do as Sammy’s laughter fills the kitchen. Warm, comforting arms pull me closer to him. I let my hands settle on the back of his neck, curling my fingers in his hair. He leans down to place a tender kiss on my lips, letting his two-day scruff scratch against my lips. “I don’t know why I put up with you sometimes.” I roll my eyes playfully at him.

“You say that, but,” his lips move to the shell of my ear, “we both know exactly why you put up with me.” He pulls back and gives me a wink. His hand leaves my waist and delicately takes my left hand into his kissing the diamond ring still settling on my finger. “‘Sides, you love me, and you know it.”

“Love?” I scoff, trying to hide my smile. “I don’t know if I would say that. Not if you insist on sneaking up on me all the time.”

“Sammy saw me, didn’t you?” I turn in his embrace, letting my back settle against his chest, and his arms stay tight around me. Sammy giggles and shakes his head. “Traitor,” he whispers.

I curl my hands around his arms; it has taken us so long to get here, something I never thought would happen. The watch on his wrist alerts me to the time, and I gently pull away from him, making my way back towards the stairs.

“Cordy! I’m serious!” I yell up the stairs, “You’d better be down here in two minutes!”

"Do you want me to talk to her?” he asks as I walk back into the kitchen. He’s sitting down next to Sammy, cutting fruit into halves as Sammy tries shoveling the food into his mouth. “See what the problem is?"

"She's a teenager; that's the problem," I laugh, taking a seat at the table. “Didn’t think you’d be here three years ago, did you?”

“What do you mean?” His eyebrow furrows in confusion.

“Raising a teenager and a toddler with someone who works ridiculous hours and has serious abandonment issues,” I keep my tone light, but he knows the insecurity behind my words.

“Y/N,” Jason reaches for my hand and gently squeezes it. “I told you a long time ago, I don’t give up that easily. If I didn’t think I could handle it, I wouldn’t have pursued you for as long as I did,” he says with a chuckle. “I love you, Y/N; Cordy and Sammy, they may not be mine, but I’ll never treat them any different than if they were. I’m never gonna walk away from you or them.”

Cordy is downstairs just as I’m about to call out for her again. She chatters away as she eats her breakfast, only to be interrupted by Sammy’s need to chime in. She placates her little brother, and we all listen intently as he struggles to connect one thought to another.

“C’mon, kid,” I stand up from the table, “it’s our turn to carpool; go get Ava.”

She quickly gets out of her chair and places a kiss on Sammy’s cheek. She lets Jason pull her in for a quick hug before grabbing her backpack and making for the front door. I lean down and place a kiss on his lips before doing the same with Sammy. By the time I’m outside, Cordy and Ava are both in the back seat, deep in conversation.

I drop the girls off at school and make my way back home, ready to sleep for hours and thankful that I have the next two days off. Jason plans his schedule around mine so that one of us can be home with Cordy and Sammy more often than not. On a day like today, when I’m coming off a twelve-hour shift from the hospital, he’ll leave late in the morning and come back in the early afternoon. I find it comforting to know that I will never have to worry about him not returning from a job.

Jason and Sammy are sitting on the living room floor when I walk through the door, watching some kids show that I can’t quite place. I laugh to myself when I notice that Jason seems to be just as invested as Sammy. I take the opportunity to sneak up on him, and Jason nearly jumps to his feet when my hands land on his back. Sammy lets out a loud, high-pitched squeal and claps his chubby hands together, laughing as Jason chuckles.

“Consider that your payback,” I giggle as he turns around, wrapping my arms around his neck, and he lands a playful swat on my ass.

"You'll pay for that later," he teases before leaning forward to press a kiss on my lips.

I sit with them for as long as I can before exhaustion starts to overpower my will to stay awake—damn midnight shifts.

I make my way upstairs and crawl into the comfort of my bed, allowing sleep to finally take me. The bed dips and the warmth of a body where there was once cold causes me to stir, and I roll over, opening my eyes to meet Jason’s blue ones. I smile sleepily as he presses his lips on my forehead and tells me that he’s put Sammy down for his nap. I pull his face downward, allowing him to kiss me properly. Jason holds me close, pulling me flush against him, letting me take comfort in his warm embrace until I’m asleep again.

“Mama.” Sammy’s small voice wakes me, and I open my eyes to see him reach for the edge of the bed, his curls matted on one side. “Wake up, mama!”

“Hey, baby,” I coo, trying to shake the hoarseness away. I swing my legs over the bed and reach for Sammy, pulling him into my lap. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Good nap, mama,” he repeats.

“Are you ready for a snack?” I ask as I stand up, letting Sammy settle on my hip.

“Hung’y, mama,” Sammy happily nods as we make our way downstairs.

I set Sammy down in his pack n’ play and pour some Puffs into a bowl, letting his loud crunching and noisy toys fill the kitchen as I fix us something to eat. As I’m setting the plates down, I hear a knock on the front door.

“Ugh, every time,” I complain, taking a small piece of apple and placing it in my mouth. “I’ll be back in just a minute, okay?”

“‘Kay, mama,” Sammy says as he picks up another puff.

Another rapping comes from the door, this one louder than the last, probably some salesperson, I murmur. When I open the door, all I see at first is a broad, tall body covered by a blue plaid shirt, and as I let my eyes travel up, I meet a pair of eyes that I never thought I’d see again.

“Sam.”

“Y/N/N.”

My heart races at the sound of my name on his lips, but I can’t move; the last time I saw Sam, Dean was about to let an angel possess him. What if this wasn’t Sam? What if this was Ezekiel? I eye him suspiciously. Should I call Cas?

“It’s me, Y/N/N,” Sam says as if he can read my mind.

“No.” I shake my head and attempt to close the door. “I don’t know who or what you are, but you stay away from my family and me.”

“Y/N/N, baby, it’s me." Sam gently steps forward and stops the door. "We met Thanksgiving 2002,” he offers. “I saved you from a werewolf, you clung to me the whole night, and I started falling for you right then. I had to convince my dad to let me stay, I told him it was for school, but it’s ‘cause I wanted to stay close to you. The first time you said ‘I love you’ was Valentine’s Day; we went to The Tavern, and you were concerned about the prices. The day you told me you were pregnant– it was one of the happiest days of my life, even though I was scared shitless. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you again at Joe’s. I wanted to tell you right then and there how much I missed you; how sorry I was–”

“You’re rambling,” I murmur, reaching out and pressing my palm to his cheek, and he leans into my touch. Sam wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tightly as if he’s afraid to let me go.

“What– what’re you doing here? How–?” I mumble into his chest.

“Cas,” Sam takes a deep breath. I let him hold on to me while I try to keep myself calm. “Told us you were in Lawrence; I can’t tell you how pissed Dean–” I pull away slightly, and Sam shakes his head. “Quick search gave me your address,” he gives me an embarrassed smile that quickly fades. Sam’s embrace around me loosens, and I step back to scan his face. The dark circles under his eyes hint at the fact that it’s probably been days since he last slept. “I guess I should have called first?” Sam lets out a laugh that seems to be hiding pained thoughts.

“It’s not that,” I shake my head. “I– I can’t believe you’re here. I didn’t think–”

Sam takes my hand in his rubbing it gently, and gives me a small smile. His brow furrows, and his smile quickly fades as his eyes travel down toward our connected hands.

“You’re married,” Sam states, brushing his thumb over the ring on my finger. “Of course you are." He lets go and shakes his head, seemingly in disbelief. “I’ll just– I’ll go. I don’t–”

“Wait, Sam,” I stop him. “Come in, please,” I insist. Sam nods his head warily, and I step aside so that he can walk in. I can hardly form a coherent thought as he walks into my house. He doesn’t make it far in before stopping, reaching out to touch a photo hanging on the wall. Even without a clear view, I know it’s of Cordy, taken only a few weeks ago on the first day of school. The smile that forms on Sam’s face is instant, and I can see his eyes beginning to water.

“Corie, she’s– she’s beautiful, Y/N/N,” he says, eyes never leaving the frame.

I join him in front of the photo, and I watch as he studies it intensely. "Let's talk," I whisper as I move away from the wall and towards the kitchen. My eyes immediately fall on Sammy when I walk back in, who’s keeping himself busy with one of his many toys, smiling at the random noises coming from him. I turn around when I can no longer feel Sam’s presence behind me, and I see him staring blankly at Sammy through the mesh material.

“You– you had a baby,” Sam murmurs, taking his eyes off the toddler and gives me a sad smile. “I’m happy for you, Y/N/N,” Sam’s words are hollow. “I'm sure Corie’s a great big sister."

“She tries,” I laugh slightly, “maybe Dean could–”

“Dean’s dead.” Sam cuts me off, his bluntness taking me by surprise. “He sacrificed himself so that we could be together– our family could be together,” Sam’s jaw clenches slightly, and his face reddens. “But I come back here, and you’re married, and have another kid–”

“Sam,” I move towards him. I know how it must look—that shortly after we last saw each other, I found someone else; that I replaced him. “I need to tell you–”

“No, Y/N/N, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Voice laced with anger, Sam stiffens before taking a few steps back. “It’s been three years,” He turns around and heads back towards the front of the house. "I couldn’t expect you to wait around forever, could I?”

“Sam–!” I try to get his attention before he leaves, but he ignores me. I grab Sammy and chase him down as best I can with a toddler in my arms.

“I just– I want to be in Corie’s life, Y/N/N,” Sam says as he reaches for the door. “I want to know my daughter, and I want her to know me. I’m out of the life. Without Dean, I can’t do it; I’m not a hunter anymore. Talk it over with your husband; I’ll do whatever you want, Y/N/N, please, just don’t keep Corie away from me.”

“Sam, wait, please–” He’s halfway across the lawn when I stop him, my free hand landing on his shoulder. Sam stills but doesn’t turn around. I walk around him so that I’m standing in front of him. Sam’s eyes are bloodshot, tears flowing freely from them as he stares at the ground. “Stay.”

“I can’t,” Sam looks up to meet my gaze. “I can’t stay and not be with you, Y/N/N. You and Corie– You’re a real family now,” his eyes briefly land on Sammy again, who’s tugging at the necklace Sam gave me. “I’m not going to stand in your way. You and your husband–”

“Stop, Sam,” I plead, reaching up to wipe his tear-stained cheeks. “I’m so sorry about Dean.”

“We didn’t have any other choice,” Sam murmurs, leaning into my touch as I tuck back some of his fallen hair behind his ear. “Dean, he– he made me promise to come to find you, get our family back. Said that he wanted us to be together, made Cas tell me where you were. I-I didn’t think...” Sam shakes his head and his voice trembles. “I-I wanna stay nearby so that I can stay close to Corie.”

“Mama, look!” Sammy points to Jason’s truck as it pulls into the driveway and tries to squirm out of my hold. “Daddy!” By the time Sammy is down, Jason is already heading towards us. Sammy is wobbly on his feet as he makes for Jason, who lifts him into his arms, causing a giggle to leave Sammy.

“Hey, babe,” Jason places a light kiss on my lips and lets his free hand around settle on my waist. “Who’s this?”

“Jason, this is Sam,” I say cautiously. Jason’s brows raise in surprise as he seemingly puts it together. Sam doesn’t move, only narrowing his eyes on Jason. “Sam, this is Jason.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Jason offers his hand to Sam, and I know he’s trying to play nice. Sam doesn’t move, giving him a tight-lipped smile and a nod. Jason closes his hand and brings it back to his side. “I’m gonna take him inside,” Jason gestures to Sammy, breaking the growing tension between the three of us. “I can hear this one’s stomach growling,” he jokes. “You hungry, buddy?”

Sammy nods his head excitedly, and Jason lets him down onto the grass. Sammy is tugging at his arm, guiding Jason back towards the house.

“It was nice meeting you, Sam,” Jason says after taking a few steps away from us. Sam doesn’t respond again, only giving another nod.

Jason disappears back inside the house, leaving Sam and me alone on the lawn. I don’t know how to tell him everything that I need to.

“He’s cute,” Sam says half-heartedly, and I lift my brow in confusion, “The kid. I guess your husband is too. How long have you been together?”

“Jason isn’t– we’re not married,” I finally get the chance to correct him. “He proposed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Is he good to you?” Sam takes a step closer to me. “He treats you and Corie right? Because if he’s not–”

“He’s been good for us, all of us. Stepped into a role when he could’ve run the other direction,” I laugh slightly.

I can see that Sam has more questions, but my front yard’s public nature makes it difficult. Realizing that Cordy will be home in a couple of hours, I suggest going somewhere more private, promising to answer all of his questions. Sam agrees, and I run back into the house to redress and tell Jason that Sam and I need to discuss everything alone. Jason hesitates, but he reluctantly agrees that it would be for the best. I leave him and Sammy with a kiss, promising to be back in a few hours.

"Dean said that you came to the hospital." Sam sits down across from me at the diner, nodding politely at the waitress as she drops off our two coffees.

"I had to," I murmur, bringing the ceramic cup to my lips and taking a sip. "I'm sorry that I didn't stay. I wanted to, but something about Ezekiel and what Dean wanted him to do, it didn't feel right."

"It's okay," Sam assures me and reaches across the table to take my hand in his. "Ezekiel, he– he wasn’t who he said he was, he lied to Dean from the start, didn’t even tell him his real name, Gadreel. When Dean became suspicious, Gadreel– he locked me away inside my mind, and used my body to kill innocent people,” Sam tears his gaze away from mine and brings his hand back into his lap. “It’s good that you left. You and Corie, you– you wouldn’t have been safe if you stayed.”

Sam spends the better part of the next hour filling me in on everything that happened since we’d last seen each other. I don’t know how to tell Sam about Sammy, and for a brief moment, I consider letting him think that Sammy isn’t his, but quickly decide against it. Sam's face lights up when I tell him, and tears fill his eyes as I pull out my phone to show him the trove of photos of Sammy and Cordy. If Sam was truly out, then I had to give him the chance to be a part of our lives, didn’t I? Cordy and Sammy deserve the chance to know Sam, the Sam I fell in love with.

It’s late by the time I return, and I do everything I can to act as if everything is normal. Cordy, Sammy, and Jason are curled up on the couch, watching a movie, and I greet them quickly before heading upstairs. Cordy calls out for me to join them, causing Jason to turn around and take in my appearance. I tell her I’ll be back down after a shower, and I see Jason getting up out of the corner of my eye.

I don’t realize that Jason is behind me until I hear the door closing only moments after walking into my room.

"I think we should talk," He murmurs, closing the gap between us. I fiddle with the ring on my finger and move towards the bed, taking a seat on the edge. "About us, the kids; about Sam," I nod, and my eyes stay fixated on the ring on my finger. “Whatever happened today, just- just don’t lie, Y/N, please, no matter how difficult the truth is.”

“Okay,” I nod again, and Jason places a kiss on my temple.

“You told me that Sam disappeared,” Jason moves down so that our eyes can meet. “Did you know that he was going to show up here today?”

The topic of Sam was a difficult one for me to breach with Jason. He’s never pushed me for more information than what I am willing to give him. When we first started dating, Sammy was only a few months old. I had finally come to terms with the fact that Sam was most likely dead or worse. Radio silence from Dean seemingly confirmed my suspicions, and I allowed myself to move on, to fall in love again. My feelings for Sam never disappeared, they stayed deep inside me, and when I saw him again, they all came rushing to the surface.

"No," I answer honestly. "The last time I saw Sam, he was in a coma. His brother and I couldn’t agree on what to do. Dean wanted to use,” I hesitate, “extreme measures, I had just found out I was pregnant with Sammy, and I couldn’t–” I don’t know how to explain it to Jason; how I seemingly took Cordy and ran away. I try to find something that resembles the truth. “He was dying, I wanted him to get better, but I couldn’t watch him become an empty shell of himself. Dean had medical power of attorney, and I had no chance of winning any contestation. Legally, Sam’s not Cordy’s dad; there was nothing I could do. Cordy and I said goodbye, and we left. I thought he died since we didn’t hear from either of them again.”

Jason listens carefully and takes a deep breath before speaking again. Whatever it is, I can tell it's going to be difficult. “Did anything happen while you were with him?"

I’m caught off-guard by the question, and guilt begins to fill every inch of my body. I look away from Jason and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is mussed, and my lips are still swollen; it couldn’t be any more obvious what happened. Jason is studying me when I face him again, and tears fill my eyes. I don’t want to admit what Sam and I did less than two hours ago.

“Jason, please," I beg, my shame taking over. “I can’t.”

"Please, Y/N," he demands softly, and a choked sob leaves me. “Did you kiss him?” I nod my head and Jason tenses. I glance up and see a mixture of anger and sadness at my confession, which only makes me cry harder.

“Did you–” Jason struggles to get the words out, and I fear I know exactly what his next question will be. “Did you sleep with him?”

"I'm sorry!" I cry, and Jason moves away from me at my confession. He paces the floor in front of me, face growing redder by the second, his jaw clenches, and I see him ball his fists. “I didn’t– I wasn’t– It just happened.”

"It just happened?" Jason stops in his tracks, questioning me in disbelief. "You don't accidentally sleep with someone who isn't your fiancé, Y/N!"

“I- I know,” I sob, barely able to choke out the words. “It all hap-happened so fast," I try to explain myself. “One minute we were talking and the next Sam was kissing me and then…”

"I don't need the details, Y/N," Jason snaps. "Just tell me, why?"

"I don't know. I wasn't thinking. I needed closure; we've never been able to give each other a proper goodbye."

"And sleeping with him got you that?!" He asks in a hushed yell. If the kids weren't downstairs, we'd be in a screaming match right now. "A proper goodbye? So does that mean Sam's leaving? That he’s going to give you and Cordy and Sammy up? Disappear from our lives forever?"

"I-I don't know," I say between sniffs.

Jason storms out of the room, leaving me alone with my guilt. Jason had been there for Sammy’s birth, holding my hand the entire time. He stepped into the role of step-father when he could’ve walked away. Jason is the only father Sammy has ever known; Cordy took longer to warm up to him, still holding out hope that Sam would be a part of our lives again one day. Jason and I discussed him adopting both Cordy and Sammy after we were married, but now that Sam is back, I’m questioning everything.

When Jason returns half an hour later, he’s calmer than before, but I can still see the anger written on his face. He didn’t deserve what Sam and I did to him, and I wouldn’t blame him for leaving me—us. I watch closely as he walks over to the bed and sits down next to me.

“Are you still in love with Sam?” Jason hesitantly asks and takes my hand in his, his thumb grazing over the ring. “Do you want to be with him?”

“He’s Cordy and Sammy’s dad; a part of me will always love him.”

“That’s not what I asked, Y/N,” Jason gently grabs my chin and turns my face towards him. “Are you in love with Sam?” He asks more pointedly.

“I– I don’t know,” I murmur.

“Y/N,” he sighs, “I love you, and if you tell me this won’t ever happen again, I am ready to find a way for us to work through it. But you have to decide what you want, who you want: Sam, or me.”

I let his words sink in, wondering if the situations were reversed if I would be able to do the same. I can’t tell him something like that will never happen again because I don’t know if I can ever trust myself to not fall back into Sam’s arms. Sam was all I ever wanted for ten years, but I had to put my feelings for him aside so that I could focus on Cordy and Sammy; I have to do what’s best for them.

“I’m going to stay at my house tonight.” Jason’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Think about what I’ve said.” He leans down and places a kiss on my forehead.

“Jason,” I reach for his hand, “I never meant to hurt you.”

He smiles sadly, then leaves. I hear him say goodbye to Cordy and Sammy. The silence that follows when the front door closes breaks my heart. A few minutes later, Cordy carries Sammy into my room, and they both crawl into my bed. She’s old enough to understand that something happened between Jason and me. I don’t know if I should tell her of Sam’s return and decide against it. I’m not ready to answer the questions that will inevitably follow. The three of us fall asleep together; Sammy sandwiched between Cordy and me.

When I wake up the next morning, I know what I want. I know who I want. He was the last thing to cross my mind before I fell asleep and the first thing I thought of when I woke up.

I reach for my phone and send him a message asking him to come over as soon as possible. He replies quickly, telling me he will be over shortly. I put the phone down and turn to wake Cordy and Sammy. She grumbles, but I give her a little nudge and ask her to wait downstairs. Cordy sends me a questioning look through her sleepy features, but she complies when I tell her it’s important.

Cordy’s still half-asleep on the couch when I make my way down, Sammy propped on my hip, also unable to keep his eyes open. My whole body is shaking with nerves as I impatiently wait for him to arrive.

Three light raps on the door have me on my feet in seconds, racing towards the future with the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. I swing the door open, letting him step into the house, and he wraps his arms around Sammy and me, holding onto us as tight as he can. I relax into his embrace and breathe in his familiar scent.

As I pull away, I let my eyes fall on his familiar features. I run my free hand through his hair, and a smile appears on his lips. He leans down to press a gentle yet eager kiss on my lips. His rough, calloused fingers tenderly brush against Sammy’s face, and tears fill his eyes as he takes in the little boy’s features. I hand Sammy over to him and notice how small the toddler looks wrapped in his arms. He closes his eyes in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, but when he opens them again, I see the kaleidoscope of blues and greens that I had fallen in love with all those years ago.

“Cordy,” I call into the living room, “come here, please.”

I can hear the padding of Cordy’s feet as she mumbles about it being too early to be up. When she turns the corner, Cordy’s eyes widen, and a broad smile spreads across her face. She runs towards us, ready to jump into his arms.

"Dad!"

A/N 3: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it! I did not intend on this chapter on being as long as it is, but, sometimes you can't stop yourself from writing!

Did you love it? Hate it? Please give a reblog or send an ask and let me know what you think of this final chapter!

Elastic Heart Tags @manawhaat   @that-one-gay-girl @awesomesusiebstuff​ @mrswhozeewhatsis @ilovetaquitosmmmm @suckmyapplejacks​ @traceyaudette​ 

Forever Tags: @akshi8278​

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Empires on the Horizon XIV

Jason is a CEO: Part XIV

masterlist for other parts, more jercy, bad headcanons, and an abundance of crackships

SURPRISE!!! i finally got my laptop back and thankfully they didn’t have to wipe anything so i still had all my work! Between you and me i was more worried about all my fanfics than my uni work...... But I’ve learned my lesson. Do everything on google docs now!! Anyway this is a Percy POV and i hope you enjoy because i’ve missed this little universe more than you could possibly know and we’re finally (only fourteen chapters later) getting to the jercy part of this fic?! LOL it’s been wild.

i know i’m releasing a ton of fanfics at the moment so i hope you guys don’t feel overwhelmed. You know i adore your comments and thoughts but please don’t feel pressured to read all the fics i’m posting. I’ve just had a lot of time in the last weeks so it’s been easier to create. Please take care  of yourself, i love you very much and i hope you have a magical holiday season!

Percy Jackson stretched his legs out in front of him and draped a blanket over them. There were few things he indulged in, but a good plane seat was one of them. He was spoilt for it but having the space to lay his unreasonably tall body down for eight hours seemed like a worthy investment. The announcements that continuously filtered through the crackly speakers were background noise as the bustle of people getting to their seats flowed throughout the cabins. He stared out his little window at the neon-jacketed guides and airport officials directing people to wherever they needed to be. He loved watching people just do things. There was something calming about knowing others weren’t interested in him in any way. That people got on with their lives despite the turmoil nobody knew about.

A flight attendant stopped next to him with a polite smile, “Champagne sir?”

“No thank you, a water please. Too early for alcohol.” He grimaced.

Mirth danced in her eyes as she glanced up at the rest of the passengers, some dangling flutes between their fingers. “Absolutely sir, anything else?”

He shook his head, before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. His pre-flight ritual, which consisted of him snuggling as comfortably as possible it his seat and trying to fall asleep, was already behind. The presence of a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed CEO taking up the scattered pieces of his mind. It was crazy to think they had met almost a year ago, crazier still to think that about how much they had changed in that time. Percy at least felt like a completely different person to the one who had stepped off a plane from Hawaii all those months ago and attended his alma mater’s dinner. Although the university had surprised them with plaques honouring their contributions, it was seeing Jason Grace, learning about him that felt like the real reward. Hell, he was only half joking when he said he’d marry the guy the next Tuesday.

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts. We will be taking off shortly. In the meantime please turn your attention to the screens in front of you for a video detailing the safety measures you will need to know while aboard this flight.”

He blinked back into the world and turned half his attention to the screen and the other half to locating the blonde he couldn’t seem to keep away from. He knew the safety briefings by heart, but he always felt bad for not paying attention. Someone worked hard to make those. He didn’t spot Jason in the two minutes the video played and then it was too late because the plane gave a low rumble and suddenly, they were lurching into motion. His heart climbed to his throat and he gripped his fingers underneath the blanket.

“Okay Percy,” He mouthed to himself, “You can do this. It’s at most fifteen minutes of instability and then you’ll be up in the air and you won’t even feel it.”

“Just fifteen minutes.” He kept repeating, taking deep shaky breaths. “Fifteen minutes.”

The plane jaggered down the runway, slow enough that he could still read the road signs indicating altitudes and compass directions and all sorts of fun information he didn’t care about. He felt the huge machine turn into the long stretch of tar that led them to the sky and his stomach clenched painfully. This was always the worst part. Take off. It felt like his entire body flew off with the plane while he stuck to the ground, superglue cementing him to the floor with no escape. He didn’t feel free. He felt torn.

The plane gave a horrible lurch and then it was screaming down the runway, grass and yellow lines blurring past them. They were going so fast he’s sure they’d break the sound barrier. He squeezed his eyes shut. Knuckles white as he twisted his hands together. The plan flew down the road and into the sky. His whole body felt suspended in space. He wanted to come down. He didn’t want to be here. Even with his eyes closed he could feel how high they were. He hated it.

Slowly, the plane started to level out until he felt his body realign: feet under him, hands beside him, head above him. He opened his eyes, spots dancing in his vision as they got used to the light once more. The seatbelt sign dinged above him, and a series of clicks followed. People got up to use the bathroom and grab things from the overhead compartments. He wasn’t going to get up until he was out of this plane. So he shoved his headphones over his ears and pressed play.

I will always love you how I do

Let go of a prayer for you

Just a sweet word

He gazed out the window, clouds close enough to whisper to, and his lips pulled up in a soft smile. The sky was beautiful. It just sucked that they had to get into a death trap to get to it. With his ocean eyes pinned to the balls of cotton hanging in the blue expanse his mind drifted. Reyna. He blinked. It was almost shameful how little he had thought of her since their breakup considering their year together. She had taught him tai quan do and baked him blueberry tarts. They had escaped to a little bubble in the forest and watched the leaves turn brown as they tumbled in bed. He knew she tapped her right foot when she was annoyed but her left fingers danced when she was excited. He knew she liked her eggs fried hard because she didn’t have time for sloppy yolk, but she liked them scrambled soft because it meant a richer croissant. But despite this she did not light his soul on fire. And he did not light hers either. They were merely striking matches without wood to burn. He heaved a sigh as he watched the threads of his relationship flutter before his eyes and fell asleep to them disappearing in gold strands leaking into the clouds. He succumbed to the bright sun and the soft warmth of memories and he didn’t wake until a loud announcement gave the signal that they were landing.

It was over so fast he didn’t have time to panic and he was grateful. Finally he was collecting his bags and walking out. A driver with his surname scribbled on a plaque stood front and center and with a quick flash of his ID and a hello they were piling into the car. He didn’t get a chance to see the blonde beauty, but the island was small and time was a plenty. They would find each other again.

“To the hotel sir?”

“Yes Luca, and then please stick around for half an hour. It’s just a quick freshen before I go to work. We have a lab meeting.”

The man nodded and then focused on the busy Italian streets they were navigating. He took in the colours and sounds as they whizzed by. It felt like a different universe. People were loud and excited and full of life and the little markets seemed to pull energy from the sun and direct it into joy. He wanted to tell Luca, to pull over, screw work, and take in the beauty of this little section of the world. But his phone buzzed in his pocket and he knew with a disappointed sinking in his chest that adventure would have to wait.

“Hello Percy,” Rachel Elizabeth Dare bubbled, ‘I assume you’ve arrived?”

“Yes Rach,” He sighed but amusement caught between his lips, “Have you got news for me?”

“No,” She sounded suspicious, “Why would I have news for you?”

“Because you only track my exact times when you want something but you’re too scared to ask me so you wait till I’m halfway across the country before asking.” He wanted to laugh as she made an indignant sound.

“Okay fine,’ She grumbled, “I wanted to know if I could close up the scuba for the weekend. I met a girl and i wanted to go out on Friday night with her.”

He couldn’t hold in his laugh any longer, “Of course you can Rachel. But I’m curious to know…” He trailed off.

“Ugh you are impossible.” He could imagine her eye roll so vividly. “It’s Clarisse. The principal from your old school.”

“Well, well, well,” He grinned, “I better be getting premium seats to the wedding.”

“Why does everything always end in weddings for you?” She groaned.

“Scuse me for wanting a happily ever after.” He scrunched his face, “Oh and guess who’s here?”

“Is this a good guess or a bad one?”

“Good.” He smiled, “Very good.”

She gasped, speaker crackling at his ear, “Tell me!”

“Jason Grace.”

“What?” She squealed, “Are you guys going to have hot rebound sex and then realise you like each other more than just casual fuck-buddies and end up getting married and adopting like six children?”

He burst with amusement, “Slow down there Rach. I know I throw around the marriage idea, but kids seem like a big commitment.”

“You right,” She said decidedly, “Kids are a lot of effort. Just get married then. But no eloping!” He pictured the crease in her freckled brows. “I want to be a bridesmaid.”

“Can’t promise anything,” He giggled.

“Perseus Jackson!” She scolded.

“Oof the full name.”

“I will tell your mother and she will kick your ass.”

“Okay, okay,” He laughed, “No eloping. I have to go. But remember to take the keys for the scuba with you. We do not need the fire department breaking the door again.”

She grumbled about hating him and then blew him a kiss and ended the call. With a smile still playing on his lips he thanked Luca and rushed into the hotel. Thankfully the check in was painless and fast and he was stumbling into his room in no time. He barely had time to appreciate the gorgeous floor-to-ceiling windows and the ocean view it laid out before him. He promised himself he would take the time when he got back.

Quickly he hopped into the shower cursing when he realised he’d forgotten to take his socks off. With a horrified shudder he peeled them off and chucked them into the laundry basket, thankful it gets emptied every day. The water beat against his back, fogging up the glass and calming the racing in his veins. He gave himself the luxury of one extra minute to just take a deep breath and screw his head back onto his shoulders and then he jumped out and shoved on a pair of black slacks and a white button down. He didn’t bother to do the top few buttons, figuring he’d have time in the car. Instead he fastened a watch to his wrists, rolled up the sleeves till they sat at his forearms– any attempt to bear the Italian heat– and then he slid his feet into a pair of sleek ankle boots and mussed his damp curls. With half a moments glance at the mirror to make sure his face didn’t have patches of sun-cream and his collar was straight he grabbed his briefcase and walked out.

Glancing at his watch distractedly he rounded the corner, only to bump right into a hard chest.

“Oh,” He frowned, stepping back into a door. “Jason.”

“Hey,” The blonde smiled, “What a coincidence?” He laughed.

“You’re staying here?” It was really starting to feel like the universe was trying to tell him something.

‘Yep,” He gave a shy smile, blue gaze bright. “Guess you’re going to see a lot more of me then you expected huh?”

“I think you may be at more of a disadvantage than me.”

Jason looked at him, eyes dragging from his face down his body and eventually dropping to his shoes. Percy gave an involuntary shiver as the blonde tracked the same slow pace back up. “I think this could be very advantageous.”

“If you don’t stop staring at me like that I’m going to be very late for my meeting.”

He laughed, the previous sultriness giving away to a sparkle and flashing white teeth, “See you around Jackson.” He started walking away.

“Wait!” Percy called, “Date? Tonight? We can explore the city together?”

Jason smiled as bright as diamonds, “Sounds fun. Meet you in the bar at?”

He realised their time depended on when his meeting finished and suddenly, he wanted to cancel the whole thing and start now. ‘Seven thirty?”

“See you there. And have a good meeting.”

The blonde walked away, and Percy felt this time like he was floating away while his body remained superglued to the floor. He wanted to live in this feeling. Because this did not feel like being torn apart. This felt like coming home.

The elevator dinged down the passage and he crashed back to reality. With a string of curse words he raced for it and jumped in just as the doors began to close.

The meeting and subsequent lab tour felt endless and he concentrated on little less than half of what was being said, his mind more interested on the things waiting for him at the hotel, the person. But eventually it was over and him and Luca were cruising towards the Casa de Vita.

“Anything else you need sir?” His driver looked at him from the rear-view mirror as they turned into the hotel road.

“Recommend any good places for a first date?”

“Already met a lady sir?” Luca’s dark eyebrows almost touched his hairline in surprise.

“A man actually.”

The Italian chuckled, nodding his head as if in on some invisible joke, “The Tesora. It is just down the path and near the ocean.”

“Thank you Luca, have a goodnight.”

“And you sir.” Luca winked before peeling out of the entrance and fading into the setting sun.

Percy strolled to his room with a smile on his face, lost in a world full of possibilities. It was unsurprising then that he didn’t see the extra bag against the wall, or the shoes neatly placed by the door that weren’t his.

He took off his watch and undid the few buttons on his shirt, head lost to the glimmer of the ocean. He let his shirt fall open as he slipped off his shoes and walked towards the windows. The view really was spectacular. No matter how much he travelled it always blew his mind the places that existed, that he had yet to learn of. It was irresistible. It was perfect. It didn’t fail to cross his mind that the ocean was the exact same colour as a certain pair of gorgeous blue eyes. He blinked the image away, turning around, and his gaze landed on that exact aquamarine gaze.

“Jason?” He gasped, clutching his chest in surprise. “What are you doing in my room?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Tags (if you want to be added/taken off the tag list just let me know. All my channels of communication are open):

@lesbian-peanuts​​

@leydiangelo​​​

@queen-of-demons-and-hell​​

@msdrpreist​​

@sparkythunderstorm​​

@nishlicious-01​​

@lucyisblue​

@pjo-hp-things​

[fanfictionquotess]

Rec List: The Umbrella Academy

Part 1  Part 2

Rec List 2: Electric Boogaloo. I’m back with more fanfic recommendations for TUA! 

For the most part this rec list consists of only gen fanfics with the exception of one or two that focuses more on Klaus/Dave and their relationship rather than the dysfunctional siblings we know and love. You can probably guess what tags I’m currently frequenting. 

Again, this list only includes completed works. I’m also going to include an all encompassing drug-content warning because Klaus Hargreeves. 

Total Fics Recommended In This List:  35 Total in Last Part: 26

Is It Your Heart That Breaks First Or Your Fragile Bones by VeteranKlaus

Words: 37,803   Chapters: 10    Role-Swap AU   Pairings: Klaus x Dave

Summary: Number Four was a failure, he said. Number Four didn't have powers, no, he had schizophrenia. He took pills that came from his father's hands and told himself it was all a hallucination.

In the end, they should have known better. Klaus Hargreeves can speak to the dead, can conjure and control every dead soul, and he ends the world.

Or,Klaus' powers get out of hand at a young age. Reginald, the A+ parent, claims him as schizophrenic from there on. Eventually, he breaks.

Part 1 of  Neon Gravestones Try To Call (For My Bones)

Comments: Please, please do yourself a favor and read this. I ended up binge-reading it in a day during a roadtrip. The second half is especially good. I’m very excited for the sequel.

---

Tactile by HapaxLegomenon

Words: 10483   Chapters: 1     Post-S1

Summary: "After the apocalypse that wasn't, Klaus struggles."

Or: Five times Klaus’s siblings tolerated his need for touch, and one time it (and he) was embraced.

---

Of Powers & Regret by CheerfullyCynical

Words: 3755   Chapters: 1  

Summary: In a world where sibling love is stronger than Luther’s idiotic idea to lock Vanya in a cage, Klaus – in a sober stupor – fights with his newfound powers.

Or, sibling bonding is the best bonding, Klaus' powers are out of control, and everyone needs a hug (but Klaus most of all).

---

Saturday Night by Cyane

Words: 1707  Chapters: 1

Summary:  One minute, Klaus is in the bowling alley, and the next minute, he's huddled in the trenches of Vietnam.

---

Where Love Should Have Been by Skullszeyes

Words: 1520  Chapters: 1

Summary:  Klaus still suffers from drug withdrawal, but he's also trying to figure out how to bond with his siblings, and be with them more.

Part 1 of Eating the Dead

---

Don’t Stop Me Now by twinfinite

Words: 5120  Chapters: 1    Pre-S1

Summary: Ben is dead and Klaus is doing Great.

---

The Cage You Wove Around Me is Perfect by shadowlancer_95

Words: 1702   Chapters: 1  

Summary: Klaus has a terrifying moment of clarity where he wonders just how much like dad Luther was.

Or,

In which Klaus is reminded of the mausoleum, decides to say fuck it to Luther and averts the apocalypse all on his own.

Part 1 of  The Umbrella Academy For Excellent Parenting

---

Because I Could Not Stop For Death by shadowlancer_95

Words: 13,128   Chapters: 1   Pre-S1

Summary: No matter what anyone said, he isn’t suicidal.

Not really.

Or,

They've all been given a second chance, not just to stop the apocalypse, but to live their lives once again. This time, he's determined to not to be the useless weak link that he was in their previous timeline.

Comments: CW: Major Character Death.

Part 3 of The Umbrella Academy For Excellent Parenting

---

it's almost summer, playing dumber than in fall by ohmygodwhy Words: 3259  Chapters: 1   Pre-S1

Summary: “Hey,” he says, leaning over the back of the couch, “can I knock down the wall between me ‘n Vanya’s old room?”

“What?” Luther asks, distracted.

“The wall,” Klaus repeats.

(alternatively: vanya went to college and klaus said "move, i'm gay")

Comments: Fun wholesome content amidst all of the angst.

---

you know you can bet on it by wearealltalesintheend Words: 1103   Chapters: 1

Summary: ...or, the one where the Great Bacon War is fought, bets are drawn, and sometimes the past really comes back to kick you.based on the prompt: “It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.”

Part 1 of Tumblr Prompts

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Talk to the Hand by PunJedi Words: 5848  Chapters: 1

Summary: ...Or, an exploration into the mind of Klaus Hargreeves, aka The Séance, aka No. 4, aka everyone's favorite pansexual junkie disaster.

---

Children Behave (That’s What They Say When We’re Together) by CaffeinatedWriter Words: 12,837  Chapters: 1

Summary: Klaus has always used the past to ground himself to the present.

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A Little More Blue by Adox Words: 18,591   Chapters: 1   Pre-S1

Summary: Diego finds Klaus on one of his drug busts, and Detective Patch puts him in charge of babysitting the witness. It's harder than it looks, what with the trauma and all.

---

all the glamour and the trauma by ohmygodwhy Words: 8394  Chapters: 1   Pre-S1

Summary: They’re supposed to write a list, on their own time, of either the wrongs they’ve done to other people or the people that they’ve done wrong to, whichever one is easier. Klaus rolls the pencil between his fingers.

So far he’s got: Denny’s I stole a syrup bottle from, with buy a new syrup bottle and return it as a possible solution.

My dead brother, is second. Can’t bring him back to life, so nothing to be done there.

---

soul kitchen by ohmygodwhy Words: 17,088  Chapters:  2   Pairings: Klaus x Dave

Summary: He trips on acid for the first time at fourteen, leaves home at nineteen and meets Dave at thirty. Give or take.

(klaus, his love life, and maybe the love of his life, too.)

Comments: Not going to lie, this is absolutely one of my favorite fanfics I’ve read so far for TUA. It ruined Klave for me because they depict exactly how I want their relationship dynamic to be.

---

I’m Not Okay (I’m Getting There) by kittycatthetacodemon

Words: 49,739  Chapter: 2   Pairings: Klaus x Dave, Gen fic at heart

Summary: Between seven adults, even ones as severely damaged as they are, there's got to be at least enough common sense to mimic one semi-functional, competent human. Post-season one, Klaus and his siblings travel around in their own pasts, sort out some of their shit, and relive the week of the apocalypse one last time.This time, they get it right.

Comments: PLEASE DO YOURSELF A FAVOR AND READ THIS. Chapter 1 was *mwah* but chapter 2 has a scene with Five that blew my mind. I loved it so much. Chapter 1 is Klaus POV and Chapter 2 is Five POV.

--- I’ll never ask for more by lunalou

Words: 7132  Chapters: 1

Summary:  or, Klaus is forced to face his fears in the mausoleum and his family worry

---

broken technology by JKWriter Words: 1438   Chapters: 1       Post-S1

Summary:  diego makes the mistake of buying klaus a phone

---

Ben Forgets He Can’t Walk Through Walls and Five is Helpful by dogsledwolf Words: 1487    Chapters:  1      Post-S1

Summary: He doesn't remember waking up, or for that matter, falling asleep. All he remembers is one minute there was nothing, a blissful unconsciousness, and the next he was standing in the middle of his room.

OrBen is having a bad day and Five helps.

Part 2 of How Does One Live?

---

The Truth Hurts by pupeez4eva Words: 2274     Chapters:  1

Summary: Diego whirled on her, glaring. “No! Our brother died! And what, that asshole just left him there? Didn’t even think to bring it up?!”

“Wow,” Klaus murmured, “He’s…really mad.”

...(Klaus lets it slip that he died, met God, and came back to life. His siblings are understandably shocked).

---

Ghost by smile_it_wll_get_better Words:  4629     Chapters: 1      Post-S1

Summary: Ben knew exactly where Klaus was going, why they gave him sedatives so he wouldn’t protest, wouldn’t make a noise. They were taking him to the mausoleum. The very place that hunted him all the way to his 30’s made him weep and scream and turn to drugs and alcohol just so he could forget it.

“Bring him back here now.” Ben screamed at their father, who was watching him with what almost looked like curiosity.

---

Going Native by sexysadie Words: 10,601    Chapters: 1     Pre-S1

Summary:  Klaus is broke. Drugs are expensive. Of course, his siblings are (not) more than happy to help out, and feelings come out along the way.

---

there is simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends by Drhair76

Words:  1196    Chapters:  1

Summary:  or, the one where Klaus 'loses' a hoodie, Five gets a hug and Ben is proud.

Part 1 by  the night is dark but the moon is bright

---

wake my spirit cold by captaincolonel Words:  29,632      Chapters: 1

Summary:  Klaus discovers his powers when he’s nine years old.It's pretty much downhill from there.

Part 1 of the wake my spirit cold

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Tripping Over Tombstones by apathyinreverie Words:  18,259         Oneshot Series: Incomplete       Post-S1

Summary:  A series of stories mainly about Ben and Klaus. Because they are my favorites.

Comments: I was basically reccing the entire series at this point so...

---

The Bottom Is A Rock by  Kierkegarden Words: 3781    Chapters: 1     Pre-S1

Summary:  ... or the 'how Klaus wound up in prison' story.

---

everything is half here by grit Words:  631   Chapters: 1

Summary:    Death has made him cold, but Ben still smiles genuinely at Klaus every now and then. He doesn't rage, doesn't scream, doesn't torment. That's not his way, that was never his way, and he doesn't pity himself.

---

break these bones till they’re better by Karturtle Words:  2436   Chapters:  1    Post-S1

Summary:   Ben always had a soft spot for Diego.

Part 4 of  you ask me where i've been(like i ask you where you are)

---

i rebuild when i break down by Karturtle Words:  2436   Chapters: 1    Post-S1

Summary:  Klaus and Ben hang out. Klaus fondly reminisces.(a cut scene from love you without any strings attached, my ben + klaus fic. can be read without prior knowledge)

Part 5 of  you ask me where i've been(like i ask you where you are)

---

By The Firelight by courflakes Words: 14,681   Chapters:  6      Pairings: Klaus x Dave

Summary: The five significant times Klaus spoke to Dave. The one time he never will again.

Or, how they fell in love.

---

the inaugural class of the umbrella academy by zweebie Words:  13,028    Oneshot Series: Incomplete      

Summary: (usually) unconnected one shots about my umbrella children

PREVIOUSLY CALLED, BUT STILL INCLUDING: vaguely (if at all) connected one shots about klaus's deaths through the years

because Klaus going full on gina linetti and meeting god was probably my favorite part of the series (even though the scene broke my heart)

---

It Is Always Winter When Klaus Comes Home by tiredperalta Words: 11,305     Chapters: 1

Summary:  There begins a sort of ritual, every time Klaus leaves. It begins this way: A boy packs his bag with the intention of leaving once again. He walks into the nearest bathroom, washes his face in the sink with cold water. He looks at himself in the bathroom mirror. He buries his nails into his pale skin. He stands back after a moment, takes a deep breath and inspects the red indents appearing on his skin.

It finishes this way: The boy leaves the house via a bedroom window or a back door. On his way out, he sits on the ground in his garden. He lies back - more often than not in the snow that covers the ground - look up at the moon and then he disappears.

---

Into the Deep End. by Wendihomo

Words:  468   Chapters: 1    Pairings: Harold x Vanya

Summary:  The water was cold. No that wasn’t right. The water was eerie. Silent and completely still, soaking her from head to toe and seeping deep into her muscles. Her bones ached, fingers clutched into tight little fists. The water was growing colder, the soft drip of the tap was a constant buzz in the back of her mind.

Part 1 of  The Mind’s Eye

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Eave of Destruction by  siriuspiggyback Words: 5418  Chapters: 1   Post-S1

Summary:  Klaus was self aware enough to know that he’s been fucked up for a long time. So sure, the nightmares, the heart palpitations, the way his lungs collapsed when he thought about his childhood for too long - yeah, it sucked, but he was used to it. The flashbacks, though. They were new.

After two months post the almost apocalypse, Klaus was feeling pretty proud of how carefully he had maintained his mask of normality around his siblings. He was still fidgety and annoying, sure, but none of them had glimpsed at his fun new brand of fucked.

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Dirge Without Music by  temporal-infidelity (gyabou)

Words: 13,354   Chapter: 5

Summary:  After Dave dies, he meets a little boy without a name who can see ghosts. He's strangely familiar.

Part 1 of  but I am not resigned

[malyen0retsev]

Find it funny how y’all treat Joe vs Maisie on here. If Joe says/said something against Gendrya it’s like “I understand his POV, he’s completely justified in his reasoning” but if Maisie does the same thing or says something “against” Arya bc D&D have made Arya that way it’s “oh my god she doesn’t even understand the character that she plays, what she says doesn’t even matter. Can she shut up and go read the books. ”. Im also annoyed at the misinterpretation of Arya but not because of Maisie.

Errr… no, just no. When Joe has said something against it IN THE PAST we’ve been like “I understand” simply because that was about six years ago, when Maisie was fourteen, and it’s understandable that a guy in his mid-twenties was apprehensive about a relationship being sexualised when the girl in question was fourteen. The last season, now Maisie is over 18, Joe hasn’t said anything along those lines. It was ‘justified’ simply because I think being uncomfortable with sexualising a 14 year old is totally ok behaviour?! It’d be worrying if he wasn’t?! Since Season 7, when Gendrya is mentioned he’s overwhelmingly pro it now, because the age issue isn’t there. So that’s not a fair example.

We don’t hate Maisie here at all, and I’ve never said she doesn’t understand Arya or that things she says don’t matter. I’m saying that amongst lots of totally good valuable things Maisie says about Arya, it’s frustrating when she says things that are very obviously due to not reading the books and not grasping why people might be upset at that perception. The writing of Arya has been off for the last season or so, and I don’t blame Maisie for that at all - that lies squarely with D&D. 

But OK, example here; the last few seasons, the writing of Jaime has been utterly fucked, and the difference is Nikolaj has read the books - and due to him having read the books, he’s able to bring in totally valid, literary canonical statements about Jaime’s behaviour, about why he’s frustrated, about why Jaime should have left KL ages ago. He gets every intricacy of Jaime because he’s read the books, so we’re never in a situation where Nik is saying stuff that book readers are like ‘… I love you but that just isn’t Jaime’. Whereas Maisie hasn’t read the books, and it’s frustrating as a book reader who loves the character, who loves her as Arya, seeing her say this stuff that just isn’t Arya.

Plz don’t make this a ‘this actor v this actor treatment’ thing, bc as I said way at the start, the parallel with Joe’s statements isn’t exactly fair due to the age thing from years ago.

[boneandfur]

Closure [6&7]

Chapter Six [The Princess]

Notes: This is two chapters in one, featuring the POV of both Sophy & Maxwell.

Words: 2164

Tag list: @drakewalkerwhipped  @hhiggs  @youwontlikewherewewillgo @nicestrokepam @theroyalweisme @hopefulmoonobject @laniquelove @penguininapinktuxedo @pbchoicesobsessed @dangerous-capri15 @alicars @mfackenthal @ninamckenzie22 @topsyturvy-dream @viktoriapetit ~ sorry if I missed anyone!

Song: Let Her Go, Passenger

Sophy hates this party. The sugar mice have already been eaten, and her mummy is dancing, dancing, dancing with the king, which has made Papa sad. It's made her Uncle Bertrand happy though -- he's been smiling like his face will fall off since they arrived at the palace, as if he wasn't talking to Mummy in that grumpy voice before they left. 

Don't you remember? We've been practicing for months. You must remember, Lilly. Sophy, you are dismissed. Go play with your dolls. Of course, he was not so grumpy with Sophy, but she saw the way he looked at Mummy, and fiercely wanted her Papa to come home.

I'll be home soon, my sweet little squirrel. Look after your mama and your little sisters. Papa had kissed her on the forehead, and she had wondered, in the morning, why Uncle Bertrand was so grumpy. 

She hadn't had to wonder for long.

She, Gemma and Talia had been playing with their dolls under the long table in the breakfast room (Kenna had defeated the evil Azura, she was marrying Diavolos and Valentina, and her best friend was a dragon). They all tensed when the shouting match began. Talia screwed up her face, like she was about to start bawling, but Gemma grabbed her hand and pointed down the tunnel of chairs that led to the door. After Talia started crawling, clutching her blue dragon plushie, Gemma had looked at Sophy, her brown eyes filled with tears. 

Come on, Gemma mouthed. In Sophy's ear, she whispered, Let's go see the babies and Miss Jess. 

Miss Jess was a lady that Uncle Bertrand had hired as a nursemaid to watch the babies for the social season. She knew the King's big brother, which confused Sophy (shouldn't a big brother be King?), but she was more fun than Mummy, which made Sophy feel bad, so unlike her sisters, she could not warm up to Miss Jess. If she thought she might love Miss Jess more than Mummy, Mummy would feel bad and send her away -- just like her Aunty Vannah had gone away, Mummy screaming bad words and throwing things. Whenever she begged for Percy to come home, Papa tried to pretend he was not about to cry. 

You go. I want to see Papa, Sophy whispered. Tell Miss Jess I'm in the greenhouse.

The lie felt funny in her stomach, like the time she took a bite of Papa's birthday cake that before it was served. Gemma hugged her, hard. Then she followed Talia down the tunnel of chairs, not once looking behind her. The shouting got louder. Sophy saw Uncle Bertrand's feet, pacing up and down. His voice was the loudest. 

Peacocks would be welcome! The Cote d' Or... Bleeding us dry! I've had to borrow money to fund our return to court, quite a bit of it. How could you leave like that... I'm sick to death of it, do you hear me, brother? 

Bertrand, it's not like that, I was winning, if I could have a little money, I can win it all back for us, please... I only need ten thousand euro...

A little money, Max, that is not a little! Some commoners make only twice that in a year. Our pockets are not deep like your Saudi friends, they are full of holes. ...Yes, I borrowed money. Quite a bit. So stay away from the casinos until after I have paid at least half of it back, or god help me, we will be in it up to our necks. 

Papa! Sophy burst out from under the table, throwing herself in his arms. Uncle Bertrand turned his face away. The ugly scowl on his face scared Sophy, and she buried her face in her Papa's chest. 

That child... You are truly your father's daughter. Uncle Bertrand patted her on the head with affection. Max, we'll continue this later. 

But if they had, Sophy had not heard a word of it. Instead, Mummy had told her she was to accompany them to court, because the king was throwing a party for her, for Sophy, because she was such a big girl now, and he had heard that she was the very best of all House Beaumont's daughters.  

"This is boring." Sophy looks at Jack. He is a funny boy, with messy dark hair, green eyes, and freckles. "Aren't there any other kids for us to play with?" 

"No." He sticks out his tongue at Sophy. "Look!" Jack points out the corral. Something is glinting outside in the grass, a piece of gold foil. "That looks like a chocolate crown! Those are my favorites!" 

Jack wriggles our first, and Sophy follows him, game for anything. The  edge of her dress rips, and she knows Mummy will be mad, but she doesn't care. Once they get outside, the candy lies on the ground between them. It's a piece of chocolate, wrapped in gold foil and stamped with a crown. They both fall in it, squabbling. Chocolate with a Cordonian Ruby nougat center is Sophy's favorite. 

"Look!" Jack points. "There's another one!" 

It's like a game. They fill their pockets with the little candies, grinning at each other, each trying to get more than the other. The candies lead to a dark path, down a twisting maze of tall hedges. Sophy pauses at the edge, unsure, but Jack breezes past her, shouting:

"Look, Sophy! A lollipop!" He holds it up in his hands triumphantly, it's a rainbow swirl bigger than his head. "And there's a unicorn horn for you!" 

Pushing back her trepidation, Sophy follows him. It is very dark here, beyond the lights, and the blackness seems alive. "Jack..."

"Well, well, well. Who have we here? Well met, Master Jackson Nevrakis." 

Sophy cannot breathe. Jack turns around in confusion. He has a smear of chocolate around his mouth. He doesn't look scared, so why does Sophy feel so funny? She turns, too. There is a whiff of something sickly and sweet. 

A beautiful lady stands before them in a golden gown, pale hair glittering with diamond combs. "You must be Sophy Beaumont," she says with a soft chuckle that makes all the hairs on Sophy's arms rise on edge. 

Run, Jack! But she never gets the words out. Something sweet smelling is pressed on her nose and mouth, and beside her she hears Jack's body hit the grass with a soft whumpf.

Chapter 7  [The Husband]

"Maxwell!" Olivia snaps her fingers in front of his face. "Are you listening?" Her gaze follows his. The king and Lilly have waltzed out of the ballroom and the open doors to the balcony. Olivia's lips twist into a grimace. "We may as well wait. He likes to take his time, he's quite the generous lover." 

Maxwell feels like he's been stabbed all over, like he is bleeding out. His vision flickers, everything going dark except Olivia's face. He feels for a chair, collapsing into it. 

My Little Bird with throat so red, sings sorrow, sorrow, sorrow. He's singing for his love who's dead, sing sorrow, sorrow, sorrow. (1)

Maxwell jumped when he heard the lullaby. Lilly stood near the cradle, rocking baby Sophy in her arms. He was overcome with emotion, and he pressed his fist in his mouth, not daring to interrupt the moment. For before this, Lilly's interest in the baby had been nil, and Maxwell was the one who rocked Sophy to sleep every night, her sweet, milk-drunk face making him fall more and more in love with her. She had a nursemaid, of course, a sweet girl from the village, but to see Lilly with their daughter in his arms broke his heart. 

The doctor had told him Lilly would come around, that it was a thing called postpartum depression, and soon she would love Sophy just as much as he. Plenty of rest, the doctor ordered. And perhaps, her own mother...? 

But who is Lilly's mother? She would never speak of her life before Cordonia. All she would say, when pressed, was that That was a long time ago. I don't want to talk about it. 

He pressed his forehead against the doorframe and listened, for now she had begun to speak in a soothing voice. It is like the fairytales his own mother would tell him as a child, about brave Kenna, fighting for her kingdom against the evil Luther, and Valentina, the fierce and lovely female mercenary who fought by her side. As Maxwell listened, a chill crept into his veins. Though Sophy was not yet at the age of understanding, he still did not want her to hear this. 

Once upon a time, there was a little girl with hair like crow's feathers and golden eyes like the moon. The old king died when she was still in her cradle, and her mother stole her from the palace in the dark of night, the blood of the regent on her hands. They wandered for many moons, over hill and dale, until they heard a little bird singing in a lonely cove. There, they found a little cottage in the mangroves. And there they stayed, and they were happy. But when the little girl turned fourteen, the queen ate poison and died...

Lilly. He'd opened the door, and stood there. She'd turned to him, a sudden darkness in her eyes. Her arms tightened around Sophy, who let out a shriek of pain. Maxwell grabbed Sophy from her arms, cuddling her to his chest until she quieted. Lilly's eyes in the low light were unfathomable. 

That night, she had wanted him to hurt her in bed. Hold me down, she said savagely. Fuck me like your whore. Don't think I haven't noticed the way she looks at you. Well, she can't have you. Fuck me hard, Max, or I'll go find Bertrand. I've seen the way he looks at me when he drinks. 

To his shame, he hadn't been able to perform. I can't hurt you, Lilly! he'd protested, and she'd thrown her drink at him, screaming that she wanted a real man, someone who would fuck her like she deserved, someone who knew how to make her come. After that, she was gone for three weeks, and when she returned she was satiated and satisfied with herself, like a cat in heat that has been let out to roam. Faded yellow and green love bites had peppered her neck and breasts, and her look had dared him to do violence, to make her his in a sick way, but he was never that sort of man, the kind she needed, the one she wanted. 

Someone shoves a glass into his hand, and he drinks, not caring what it is, until the room swims back into focus. "Lilly..." 

"That's right. Your precious Lilly." Olivia's voice is fierce, yet she is trembling, and there is such a vulnerability in her eyes that Maxwell cannot look at her, it mirrors his own pain too deeply. "Spreading her thighs for the king, taking my place. You know I loved him once," she continues, staring off into the distance. "But I loved Drake more. Everything was taken from me, Maxwell. Love... dignity... But for Jack, I would quit this accursed island." Bitterly, she sets her glass down. Tears run freely from her eyes. "Why didn't you send her away, once you knew what she was?"

But Maxwell is striding away, oblivious to Bertrand's hiss of disapproval, and when he exits the ballroom into the gardens he breaks into a run, his feet taking him down the paths he remembers running through as a child, before Lilly, before Liam was king, tears blinding his eyes. "Lilly!" Maxwell howls. "Lilly, Lilly!" 

The King passes him in the moonlight and sees his tears, but says nothing. Liam is like a man possessed, on his face is every betrayal scarred across Maxwell's heart for all eternity. Something familiar is in his face, so familiar, so dear, that Maxwell has looked at every day for the past seven years and denied -- not wanting to recognize the truth. The pain doubles him over. 

Past him rushes Lilly, calling for the king. She has greenery in her hair, her skirts are rumpled. She does not know Maxwell, she does not care. The darkness opens up and Maxwell grabs her by the waist, throwing her down in the soft grass. Lilly stares up at him in surprise, and then fear. He doesn't know what he wants to do, only that he wants her to know that she is his wife, his Lilly, his and only his, the desire to hurt her like a black serpent twisting under his skin, where it has lain for seven years in bitter solitude. 

That is when he hears it, the panicked shouts that makes his blood run cold, and the fear crystallize in his veins. 

"Sophy! Sophy, where are you?!"

this rhyme is from the fairy tale, Jorinda and Joringel

[janiedean]

on jaime lannister’s mental health and what it means to you

tldr: in between this season’s beginning where I’ve seen a fair amount of ‘has jaime lost his balls with his hand’ in the jaime tag (....) and the finale after which I’ve seen a fair amount of ‘oh finally jaime grew some balls it was time’, I would like to list you a few friendly reminders in bullet list form of why jaime lannister has always had some of the strongest metaphorical and not balls in these series and why he’s always had a spine and he didn’t need to grow anyfuckingthing never mind that he didn’t lose anyfuckingthing with the hand.

in order:

jaime grew up spending all of his time with cersei until tyrion was born and it’s not like he stopped after. without going into how it might have started or not, he’s honestly convinced he’s the same person as cersei (he even said it in canon, if I was a woman I’d be cersei). growing together with someone in such a close environment would lend itself to actually be like them if they have a dominating personality (which she has). he thinks he’s her.

except that while cersei abused tyrion from the moment he was born and it’s pretty much strongly implied that she killed that friend of hers she went to talk to maggy to because she dared ask maggy if she’d marry jaime (i.e., she had basically assumed she could have him when cersei thought he was hers or no one’s), he… was… the only person in the family who actually loved tyrion (I don’t mean didn’t abuse him, I mean actually loved him) and was having daydreams of going around westeros being a knight, which is not exactly what cersei has as a life target.

then he got into the kingsguard half because he wanted to be like arthur dayne and half because cersei was like ‘if you do we can be together always’ which basically merged the two things he wanted, at fifteen

then it turned out aerys was what he was and since he was fifteen until he was seventeen he got through so much trauma (witnessing aerys raping his wife and being unable to do nothing, getting all the vows he believed in materially questioned, watching two people get burned alive) that he actually started dissociating to cope with it. dissociation is a fairly common effect of ptsd. this guy developed ptsd before he turned seventeen, and even with that he went, did the smart thing and killed aerys to save everyone, basically doing everything knightly oaths tell you not to do and count that we’re talking about a seventeen year old who dreamed of being arthur dayne hmmmmmmmmmm

then he could have actually become king, which is something cersei would have done at once, and he didn’t, even if if I was a woman I’d be cersei, which suggests me that someone in here managed to develop a distinct and definite personality who’s not cersei’s… without even realizing that he did it, or at least rationally, which should say volumes about the level of fucked up this guy is when talking mental health

then everyone got pissed at him for aerys without even bothering to ask him why which makes him reject everything he loved when it comes to knighthood and turn into the cynical bastard he was at the beginning -

ah, but let’s add that not even that long later tywin aka his father basically forced him to lie about tysha to tyrion with all the baggage we know, so his father forced him to hurt his brother whom jaime actually loves very much, to the point that later when jaime freed him (in book canon at least) he told him also because he was being eaten by guilt and I’m sure that must have been totally healthy for someone who dissociated at seventeen

and should I mention that he fathered three children and cersei never let him be in their lives, which is probably not as bad for a man as it’d be for a woman but wow, that totally doesn’t add up to the trauma

and then we’re surprised that a guy who didn’t treat any of his mental trauma for at least fourteen years if not more and who from that point on only gave a fuck about his family/his relationship with cersei which as seen above is kind of really toxic in the best of cases arrives to the point of shoving a kid out of a window to save his and her hide (ps: I’m not justifying it and even jaime knows it was shitty - the things I do for love, he said with loathing - but if we’re surprised that this is how he reacts… lol)

anyway, after that he ends up prisoner for one year, gets freed, runs into a bunch of bandits and OH WAIT THEY CUT OFF HIS RIGHT HAND WHICH IS INCIDENTALLY NECESSARY IF YOU’RE RIGHT-HANDED AND THE BEST SWORDSMAN IN THE REALM which turns into another fairly horrid trauma because hey, try losing that important a limb, having to ride it out and only having a total stranger who hated your guts until three days before helping you out and giving you a modicum of dignity during that time! because it’s totally fun to not being able to change your clothes and being given horse piss to drink, riding with your hand around your neck and so on, because that’s totally not traumatic at all, and then he goes on out of a) spite, b) brienne giving him her a+ pep talks, c) wanting to see cersei again

now, given all that, he… went back for brienne when he could have just left for KL and jumped into a bear pit for her after coming out of the above situation, having just healed, missing a hand and without even a weapon, which is totally something that someone without balls or a spine would do, wouldn’t they, same as someone without balls would have let people kick him in a healing stump to save brienne from being raped (because, addendum, he advised her to *go away inside* i.e. dissociate and she told him they could forget it)

and that’s just the first, but okay, so that sends him thinking, makes him realize he either has to be more than his sword hand or what’s the point, and the fact that he ran into a true knight TM made him realize that maybe some existed and that he kind of wanted to be like that still -

ah, yeah, and when he gets back to KL - in the book - cersei calls him a useless cripple and throws plates/cutlery at him never mind gets fairly handsy the moment he disagrees with her/doesn’t agree with her anymore, and then she tells him to get riverrun even if he doesn’t want to since he swore cat to never raise arms against the tullys

now, never mind that he managed to actually take riverrun without fighting and so on, but other than the above, since jaime lannister went through even more extensive trauma, in the books he: gave brienne oathkeeper and sent her off to save sansa therefore going against cersei’s wishes, saved tyrion when cersei wanted jaime to actually kill him, saves a serving girl no one gave a fuck about and with a reputation for being a **whore** from being raped for the umpteenth time and takes her in his service (I totally can see cersei doing that or even caring hmmm /sarcasm), tries to be as decent as he can manage, he’s one of the few povs who’s fairly open about hating what he does and about how dumb he thinks the war is being, realizes he doesn’t even want to go back to king’s landing because it’s not what he wanted, obviously gives more than a fuck about his honor and he’s fairly open about it, he incidentally defended brienne’s honor because he’s gallant like that, wanted to vomit when he was told the dude who cut off his hand ended up cannibalized (totally a dude who cares for revenge…) and when cersei asked him for help he burned the letter, which should somehow suggest he realized he’s really not her -

ah, I should probably mention that he’s also trying to relearn to fight with his left all over again instead of just giving up like a lot of people might have done -

ah, among all of this he went around advising tommen that he should go away inside aka dissociating to stand having to stand vigil next to his grandfather’s dead body when cersei’s advice was basically stop being a weakling and handle it (because an eight-year old totally would enjoy that), and cersei of course stopped his fathering there because of course what a travesty, but given that after he left cersei forced tommen to whip a servant we can absolutely see how much they’re the same person or how jaime has not, like, a personality of his own

now, jaime has also done a fair amount of reprehensible things in that time and I’m not wanting to say he’s a saint or something, because he’s not and he knows he’s done reprehensible things - he tells that to himself and everyone all the time.

also, I know that’s book canon and people in this case were discussing show canon, but point in case, while I think that the show made his development a serious disservice and didn’t lead up to him dumping cersei, they did more or less show that he’s not the same person as she is, and now we go to the crux of it. as in, but I’m honestly tired of hearing that he ‘grew balls’ on one side for leaving cersei now in the show same as I was fairly horrified when I went into his tag after the premiere and saw people going like ‘omg he lost his balls with his hand’ which is what cersei told him in the book I mean seriously, because -

this dude comes from a lifetime of emotional manipulation at best and abuse at worst, and anyway when cersei was twelve she considered him her property enough that she threw someone down a well because the poor girl dared ask maggy if she might marry him so I don’t really think it could have been healthy even in the best of cases, which was then topped by years of trauma that gave him ptsd symptoms at an age in which in my country he couldn’t drink, vote or drive a car and which caused him to kill people including his king and destroy most of his dreams and eventually topped by his father forcing him to hurt his brother who is the one relative with whom he has an actual healthy-ish relationship. and that’s not counting the huge-ass amount of trauma that came later with losing a limb that was pretty much his life/the most important for his line of work and so on, and even with all of this this guy managed to grow a fucking personality wholly different from his sister’s out of I don’t know what kind of emotional strength honestly without even realizing he wasn’t like her at all, he found it in himself to turn his life around as much as he could, he realized he didn’t want the same things as everyone else thinks he did and he’s trying to be a more decent person even if no one thinks he can be and everyone has pre-judged him already, and he’s done plenty more than decent things pre and post traumas of whichever kind.

and in the middle of all this I’d like to remind everyone again that he fathered three kids that he was never let near. I mean, if it had been a woman having three children and then being forced to never interact with them would it be chill? nah.

back to the show: so it took him a hell of a long time to leave KL. I also think it wasn’t very well paced. but for fuck’s sake, taking it at face value, this guy spent his entire life being either manipulated or subtly/not so subtly emotionally amused or going through heavy trauma, and people are surprised that it took him a hell of a long time to say fuck it and leave? (especially when cersei was also using the ‘I’m pregnant’ card but never mind, which is totally not an abusive/manipulating tactic at all - I mean, she told him the moment she suspected he was being fed up with her nonsense/craziness post-sept burning and incidentally gave him everything he wanted i.e. their relationship in the open and told him she’d have let him father the kid. aha. when she didn’t let him father the three before. totally not emotional manipulation. hmmm.) fuck’s sake, this guy has guts of steel for having even been himself i.e. someone his sister is not all along, for bad or good.

I’m not even going to go over people assuming that the moment he didn’t want to go along with cersei’s crap in the premiere/he had doubts after then he didn’t have balls anymore - so now realizing that cersei was being bonkers and having an opinion and some development he already had in spades in the book is not having balls? - but this idea that he’s only growing a spine now that he left her or that he never had it before losing the hand is just… it takes a hell of a long time to get over that kind of trauma/abuse/manipulation. he has fifteen years’ worth of untreated ptsd/trauma going on, he’s had maybe three healthy relationships just talking about the show (in the book there might be more but honest it’s not like addam marbrand or ilyn payne are significant in the way tyrion and brienne are, and in the book he’s obviously not in a good place with tyrion right now so..), where on top of that they made him watch his daughter die in front of him for who knows what ill-informed artistic decision, just after she recognized him as her father, which absolutely wouldn’t add to the trauma, wouldn’t it?

and even with all of that he… is around, functioning, doing his thing, taking his decisions, trying to be a better person as uneven as it’s being (which is normal), wanting to be a better person and wanting to follow his old dreams and like, having a personality, again. and he’s always managed to be his own person all along.

if that is not having a spine or having balls or having enormous emotional strength whether he realizes it or not I don’t know what it’s called, but… like, he hasn’t grown any balls or anything, nor lost them. he’s always had them. and even if it’s not plainly obvious because for some reason if it’s guys being abuse victims most of the signs aren’t plain or aren’t seen as such, but it doesn’t make that any less true and it’d be really nice if more people noticed that this guy has mental health issues which did and do affect his behavior and his choices instead of assuming he’s an asshole/exactly like his sister and then got his eyes opened when he lost his hand.

like. one would think that we wouldn’t call getting out of abusive/toxic relationships *growing some balls*, but what do I know. I have a feeling no one would say the equivalent if jaime had been a woman and cersei had been a man (I mean, when any woman does away with their abusers in this show no one says that they finally grew some balls…) but even with that, can we just acknowledge that this guy never actually was some kind of doormat that everyone stepped on and at some point just decided to wake up and grow a personality out of nowhere into his adulthood? thank you very much.

/out

[recentanimenews]

O Maidens in Your Savage Season – 05 – A Completely Different Creature Entirely

This week picks right up from the last but flips the POV, from Kazusa to Niina and Izumi. I’m not going to say they don’t flirt with each other quite a bit on their train ride, but it’s certainly not the sweaty tryst Kazusa’s out-of-control imagination makes it out to be.

While it isn’t clear whether it’s a coincidence that Niina’s old acting coach Saegusa is on the very same train, she ends up utilizing Izumi in much same way she used Kazusa a few weeks back: as a prop in a fiction. In this case, she makes a big show of being with her “boyfriend” in front of Saegusa, who nods a gentle approval before taking his leave.

As Momoko tries (mostly in vain) to reassure Kazusa that there’s probably a harmless explanation for the two on the train, Hitoha just happens to be ridden past their exact position on the bridge. She’s in Yamagishi’s car, where he continues to make it clear he’s not into high school girls, and causing Hitoha to cry, as she doesn’t know what else to do; having her authorial debut is everything to her.

Meanwhile, we and Izumi learn about Saegusa and what a phenomenally creepy dude he was, singling Niina out when she was 11, rubbing his face on her shoe, and taking her out alone to shows and meals. But Izumi is only grossed out on the most basic level of suspecting Saegusa of being a paedophile. He doesn’t realize how deep and fucked up the bond became between Saegua and Niina.

And yet Niina declares Saegusa never laid a finger on him…even when she was fourteen, starting to get that kind of attention, and the age when she decided to ask why he wouldn’t do it with her. But he told her he could never love her as a woman, only her girlish nature, and to touch her would be to instantly transform her into something else entirely—something he had no interest in.

All I can say is…Damn. Poor Niina. Unfortunately, she’s very far from the only victim of this particular brand of push/pull mind game bullshit. Niina loathes attention because the only person she wanted it from utterly rejected her. But that does make a nice segue to her original subject of conversation with Izumi: his willingness so say something so “cruel and heartless” to Kazusa—the very same thing Saegusa told her.

But the fact is, Izumi didn’t see it as cruel or heartless at the time, because didn’t even know Kazusa had a crush on him until Niina let it slip right then, assuming (reasonably, and at the same time totally unreasonably so) he did. Indeed, Niina is rather shocked (and amused!) by Izumi’s denseness, having pegged him as someone quick on the uptake. Clearly, he has a significant blind spot…which sports a bob cut.

While she keeps up a brave front in front of Momo, when left on her own in her room Kaz’s mind continues to race, as she deliberates over how impossible it would be to compete against a goddess like Niina. Kaz gets so worked up, she doesn’t realize she’s thinking out loud, talking about being way too obsessed with sex just as her mom steps into her room.

Turns out Kazusa’s and Izumi’s families go out for bowling night on occasion. That has to be the most goddamn fun thing I’ve ever heard! Sure, it’s a little awkward for Izumi and Kaz, especially when…Izumi…sticks his fingers…in the three holes of the ball…GAAAH, anyway things calm down when Kazusa goes to grab some refreshments and Izumi follows her, now knowing exactly what’s eating her.

What follows is the second most heartwarming scene of the episode (the first most comes later): the two, knowing each other so well, recall each other’s childish likes (Kaz a bit of milk in her Calpis; Izumi with melon soda). In this moment they remember how close they are and have always been, and that even with their raging hormones, they can find such moments of peace if they try.

Izumi even sets Kazusa’s mind at ease, first by almost reading it (she wants to bring up Niina, but he beats her to it), then by saying Niina is “more weird than pretty.”

Switching to Momoko, now a much more visible and compelling character, she goes on a date with Sugimoto and it’s…fine? Kinda meh? She honestly doesn’t know how to feel or act or speak, and is basically just relieved to be on the train home.

She’s surprised to find “opening up” by saying she has no dad is such a big deal to him. In any case, it’s a clear case of Momo…just not feeling it. Is it just because of the guy, or is she not into guys, or girls, or anyone? Not enough data to know yet, but I’m intrigued.

As stated last week I’m much less enamored of Yamagishi doing anything at all with Hitoha, and predictably, he decides to continue indulging Hitoha by ruling out direct eroticism and settling for indirect methods, such as Hitoha staking out a spot where he and only he can watch her show him her panties.

Hitoha is apparently getting what she wants—personal sexual experiences with which to improve her writing and hasten her debut—but without getting overbearingly paternalistic, I still fear for her. She’s doing this, at least in part, because she feels she has no other way to achieve her dreams.

That desperation, her limited years and Yamagishi’s more numerous ones all conspire to call her ability to consent into serious question. Yamagishi is the adult here. It’s completely on him to stop this, and endure the cascade of hate from Hitoha. She will get over him, in that situation. She may not get over where this is headed.

The first time Kazusa sees Niina at school, Niina calls Izumi “weird” just as Izumi used to describe her, and the wheels in Kazusa’s head start spinning all over again, helped not at all by a reading in club by Rika that describes exactly the means by which two people think and speak alike. If they both think each other are weird, that doesn’t bode well, Kazusa thinks, and she may well be right.

While we leave Kazusa trapped in a typhoon of suspicion, indecision, despair, and longing, the episode thankfully ends on that first-most heartwarming note I mentioned earlier, as Rika meets Amagi on the rooftop to deliver him his report, which she’s marked up in red to correct his errors in grammar, spelling, and punctuation…oh, and on the last page where he asked her out, she wrote in tiny letters if you would be so kind. It’s a yes!

Rika had hoped not to be right there when he discovered that note, but when Amagi sees it, he starts leaping around the flying pages of the report in unabashed joy. Rika most certainly is abashed, at first covering her ears on the stairs, then chiding Amagi for being so loud about his happiness.

Rika is happy no doubt; but she’s no doubt scared shitless. The territory couldn’t be more uncharted if she started reading Shounen Jump. Not to mention, what if she ends up becoming a completely different creature entirely? Boy or girl, every single one of these kids is going to eventually become that—whether they like it or not.

By: sesameacrylic