#get this kid AWAY from the military I am on my hands and knees begging and pleading | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

almostfancywombat · 11 months ago

Text

Gossamer-Thin Meridian

It’s January, but the sign outside the airport reads 103. In the pallor of dusk,

expansive windows allow a grand view of the ocean,

of the dingy piss-yellow sky reflecting off its face.

On the frothy coasts of Achiet, waves boil and bubble,

shifting ships

stray sideways

like bath toys.

weeping saltwater tears onto the pier.

The sky is setting, spilling pink and orange carnage. I think of that Italian place

near the hospital. The meatballs there are violently red.

I stand at the curb and raise my hand to the sky.

Lovebugs swarm my arm.

I wait until a rickety old vehicle chugs along to lower it, shedding them.

Fingers curling around the leather handle, I load my luggage into the backseat.

‘Where to?’ comes the cabbie’s gruff voice.

Break is over, so I know

where I must be heading but not why. ‘Scriabin.’

A sympathetic,

pathetic glance passes through the rearview mirror.

Message transmitted. Received.

He slinks into position and dives into the streets.

I throw my head over the back of the leather seats.

Sunlight stains my eyes. His voice scrapes against my eardrums.

Haven’t I already left home?

Questions, criticisms; hearing it from a stranger stings less than family. There isn’t a hint of inter-personality.

I get it.

It’s difficult to cope when your child is throwing 14k a year at a useless degree.

But to a cabbie, this grand travesty is conversation. He doesn’t care. The government gets paid and so does the military, so nobody does.

We, at the Scriabin College of Liberal Arts and Sciences, are revered by none. A tiny, satellite campus that hugs the shoreline.

r e v

g Pluto o around larger state institutions.

n i v l

No one who ends up here deserves better.

Mediocre students go where the money is.

When a college digs into its pockets, students ought to drop to their knees and beg. When I applied, I was almost denied, but I begged.

Iasked questions no one could answer. Where am I going where have I been?

They didn’t know, so I was referred to an admissions counselor,

who referred the registrar. The registrar referred a professor.

I went to his office and waited half an hour, only for a frazzled TA to rush in.

Speaking like shoes racing over marbles, he said the professor had been dead

for thirteen days. No one knew he was dead,

died on a research trip in the Andes.

I almost had career counseling with that dead guy.

Maybe it would’ve been a helpful discussion so I’d know

how not to wind up like him.

Because I’m a follower.

I hate Achiet, I have the grand desire to get away,

to leave more permanently than winter from the peninsula.

Scriabin is not optimal for anything,

yet it only exists in dramatic contrasts.

Everyone has to take cars everywhere but parking passes and insurance are too expensive to buy. Carbon monoxide poisoning and pollution are at all-time highs yet only the people who walk die. Drivers drive drunk.

Everyone is either fresh-blooded and shrieking war calls

or thirteen years into their first semester. Some are both and neither.

Some homeless guys set up a camp in the steam tunnels beneath the school.

Nobody cares besides the kids who drive past them in BMWs.

The rest, we’re nobody.

We don’t care;

they piss less and do substantially fewer drugs than the BMW Bros

Less disruptive, too, so there’s no need to wage war

against anything. Nothing ever contests this artificial peace.

I hop out on an identical slice of the shore.

Below sea level, Scriabin sits upon mossy sands.

Today is the first day after the winter holiday.

Classes are in session yet it seems that the campus is mine. Save for my rusted pick-up truck with flaky blue paint on the sides, the parking lot is e m p t y.

I walk the stretch of asphalt, suitcase huffing behind.

Its wheels squeak and groan with every long stride.

My trek to the dorms is solitary. The path opens with three walkways.

Each is lined with palm trees and withered plants.

There’s a welcome arch to get past, then the Student Center, an ugly modern building that was built in the ‘70s.

The pond is the only saving grace, then the space pours into swatches of overgrown grass and haphazardly placed buildings. There are several, just enough to house the meager thousand-student population.

On the piece of the beach owned by the school, there’s the I-Station, reserved for rich international students and visiting professors.

For the common student, accommodations are far less accommodating. Lined with creepers and cracks, the dorms look like reed-mouthed flytraps.

One blocky, bulky, red-chalky unit near the duck pond pulses with a faint green light. Occupying every window, the light ebbs through the windows like waves.

Accompanying the strange drone, like a piano to its violin is a gentle, stringed percussion, there is a plucking noise.

The sound of something straining and tearing resounds.

Then a final piercing screech rings out, and it begins its macabre song all over again. I don’t realize the buzzard ditty has me glued to the spot until I feel flies crawling around my ears.

The building is nothing strange.

It must be one of those Fine Arts or Engineering Department freaks—

majoring in performance arts, learning to embody the chaos or to become its proponent.

These people eat bowls of treble clefs and bolts,

let manuscripts and soundbeams

wind through their ventricles and hearts.

Music is pretty and so are designs, but who does that?

Devote their life to the intangible?

The only worse masochists are the Pre-Meds.

At least they have realistic aspirations;

anyone can become a great doctor, but not anyone can

become Tan or Paganini or Bilbao.

Most creative-thinkers won’t even become footnotes in their respective field.

Perhaps, they’ll be chronicled in separate books, referenced in larger works,

but a life in academia is one of parasitism.

Weird dorms aside, there is a culture of dormancy at Scriabin.

There isn’t much of a nightlife when most of the town depends on tourists.

The city:

has the air of a retirement village if the residents were pumped full of steroids.

is where old people come to boil and the tourists come to fry.

is where everyone is in bed before the bingo hall closes.

If you’re quiet when you pass by an alley,

you’ll hear someone puking.

With my suitcase dragging behind,

I file into the Common Hall.

This place is poorly and unfashionably designed.

The rugs are repurposed from an arcade that closed during Arcade Heyday.

The general architecture looks like it was stolen from a retro-futurism concept board.

Before I brave a hike up several sets of stairs, I stop by the mailroom. It looks like a wall of honeycombs.

The room next to mine is empty while its mailbox is filled.

As usual, I find their letters encroaching on my box. They swamp the room.

No one else is here, but if they were, they wouldn’t mind, so I don’t.

College is conformity;

going against the mold means life doesn’t get any better.

Often, I think that boy must miss his mom.

A bunch of teal envelopes and coupons to fast food chains are in his hoard.

I snag one of each from atop the pile.

If he’s gone, he doesn’t need food or heartfelt notes.

A million posters loiter on the bulletin board.

It chronicles the past better than a Joseon historian or casual Mormon.

Every day, a notice is added for yesterday.

I just missed a free screening of some avant-garde French film. The poster doesn’t feature the ubiquitous Floating Head arrangement.

No, this is a Quirky Film;

its design is compiled with geometric shapes and other elements of Bauhaus.

Besides it is another flier. With an unsightly font,

it shares how the resident kook of an author held another publishing party

for a record turnout of seventeen.

Authors—who needs them? I’ve never read a book that stuck with me.

I stare at the signboard. Yesterdays upon yesterdays. Days lost to time.

This building’s elevator doesn’t work anymore. I miss my elevator buddy.

I drag my suitcase up several tedious flights of stairs,

then have to do it all over again one more time because I climb too high.

Recalling numbers is impossible.

Each hall:

is the same expanse of ugly carpet and beige walls

is a Soviet shoebox of an apartment, but not even those damn Commies faced as much radiation.

These dorms have issues.

Totally unfit for residency.

There was even mercury poisoning at some point.

When you shower and when you drink from the tap,

the water never doesn’t taste like lead.

A blur flies past me down the stairs.

Someone without breath, someone faceless. The darkness on their face must be their eye bags. The blur mutters about tourists with immense disdain.

Miserable students are all alike;

each student is unhappy in their own way.

No one likes having them around, but those pricing-us-out vagrants are why we have minimum wage jobs that help put us through college with hefty loans.

For now, I work at a local store.

My roommate interns in Information Systems somewhere.

Or so I hear. I don’t know what that is or who my roommate is. Maybe I saw a glimpse during orientation. Maybe not. I don’t recall anyone else being there.

I venture down an identical hall.

I stop before a door that is only distinguishable from the others because I draw on the little whiteboard hanging outside.

Halting, I erase the weeks-old doodle with my sleeve and replace it. A grotesque face with a ghastly expression, giraffe-like neck, and spindly body replace the old.

Cap between my teeth,

I slide the marker in, skimming my lip.

I attach it to the board and kick the door open.

Decisively,

unpacking is tomorrow’s chore.

I toss the suitcase inside, retrieve my bag

then trudge back down the stairs and head back to the first floor.

When I emerge, it takes a while, but I keep blinking and blinking,

then they’re all there. People, loads of them;

in the building

worming across the grass

slinking across and hissing like snakes before they slither over sand into sea.

There isn’t Greek Life or anything interesting, but Scriabin

has the Quad Gods, who perch by the welcome gates like unsightly gargoyles.

They’re all athletic in some way.

One does track. One does CrossFit.

The third does semi-competitive figure skating.

I wonder where he finds the time to skate and where he first found a rink.

They’re all fairly attractive.

They are all spindly and look like they don’t have waists.

With excessive handsomeness and vanity,

one of them ought to be the god of something,

but there’s a bunch of fanatic old people here.

Deities shouldn’t be spoken of so casually.

To most, the only god that exists is the only one you won’t ever see.

I don’t know if anyone has ever seen these guys away from their spot,

so in a way, one of them might be a god.

They’re always perching by the entrance gates, covered in dust like they haven’t and won’t move for years and years and years.

Now that I look, I realize I don’t even know their names.

I know them, but how?

Do they even go to school here? Who knows? Who cares?

Outliers significantly affect statistical values;

they’re why Scriabin has such a terrible reputation with sexual assault cases—

among students, they shoulder the blame.

If you don’t look, they won’t pounce.

With better things to do, I keep my head down.

Staring at them won’t go to the lecture that will explain the homework that will help me prepare for the test that will ensure I get a good grade at College-ing so I’ll have a job that will pay for a little picket fence in the suburbs someday.

The Faculty of Psychology is halfway across campus, right in front of the duck pond. Its glass facade reflects against the disturbed water. Jets keep it churning so the fish occupying it won’t die. Benches line the perimeter.

Perfect for my kind of student;

besides Architecture, Psyche students are most prone to tears;

being aware of your emotions, the sentience of grass,

believing that people should be skinned with life-long labels,

that not confining them to a box

means a life condemned to misery does mess with the nerves.

Brain Science is more neurosis than neurology

a neurologist can recite physiology and stimuli, but a psychiatrist is a mystic.

I enter the building. It’s like an anthill in there,

people lugging heavy bags around, rushing upstairs, across every hall.

They all look like they’re running, but no one goes anywhere.

Instead, they circle and circle. They’re all moving so fast, almost like a time-lapse.

I keep my head down and ascend to the second floor.

The elevator here works but I don’t even go near it

because it’s cursed and you need a buddy if you want to use it.

When I reach the lecture hall,

I find that it’s empty.

Peeking inside, I check the schedule. Displeased with the results, I check it again.

I already took Psych 101 last semester. Maybe I failed.

Damn American higher education. It wants to drain everybody of everything.

If anyone had told me it would be so difficult to stay in college,

I wouldn’t have got in.

Maybe if not, I’d be learning how to weld,

or embalm bodies somewhere in the Midwest,

or I’d be a goat farmer in Uzbekistan.

Maybe my class is supposed to be in the library today.

It’s Monday. Those are Independent Study Days.

Hear:

when the professor doesn’t feel like coming to class, so we all trudge to the library to make the most of the day while we’re still inspired.

Every day feels like Monday, but I never feel like going to the library.

Too many geeks and nerds typing

click-clack on computers instead of writing notes.

Too many annoying people with millions of highlighters and washi tape.

Too many revolutionary ideas to steal.

I concentrate on child psychology because their minds are difficult to understand

and I don’t want to understand anyone who might be like me.

As a minor, I take Spanish.

Still don’t speak a word of it.

I listen to videos that are meant to teach me Arabic but it’s useless in America

unless you want to go somewhere and work in intelligence

or read the best, most soul-searing poetry.

Before leaving, I step inside.

The lecture hall rises in a spiral; slats of windows line the ceiling,

Stale-aired and tasting of salt.

I look at the chalkboard,

AstroTurf Green marred by white.

I run my fingers against it.

Chalk peels away and disintegrates in lukewarm hands.

When my stained fingers rise to meet the board again,

I discover a message I hadn’t seen before.

“HOW DO YOU FLOAT?” in thick, large letters.

As if swiped away by an unseen hand, they smear.

A carving on the board becomes clear, but I’m busy viewing the torrent threatening to consume the words.

Swirling around it are mutterings and psych-ward doodles,

the kind of things you might draw on a stall in a public bathroom.

At the center is a figure composed of haphazard lines.

Outlines, something lacking shape.

With a dull hum, the projector flickers to life.

Faint outlines appear on the board in puffs of chalk smoke. Nails screech across the surface. Watery hands rake along it, desperate to find purchase.

The hurricane abates. The figure stills, staring ahead.

Before it solidifies, I drop my bag onto the floor and scamper out of the building.

a/n: i hope i can go far, far away for college. i need distance. i need to be able to focus on myself.

0 notes

la-fille-en-aiguilles · 4 years ago

Text

Dog Tags

Billy Russo x Female!Reader

Request by @nebulastarr : Hey! Whenever requests open up again, could you do a Billy Russo x Reader where the reader liked Billy but doesn’t want to tell him because she thinks he won’t feel the same way

A/N: I was going to wait and get down to writing this once I was finished with my series... But this one has simply hit a little too close to home. I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I saw it and I ended up putting a lot of personal stuff in it so I’m sorry if it feels chaotic at times. Thank you for requesting, love, I hope it lives up to your expectations. The Only Living Thing series will be back with its third part next week. The song: Isak Danielson - Power

All you heard was an excited scream, that raised above all of the New York’s past-6-pm commotion, as a slender tall body smashed into you, locking you in a bone-crushing hug. You laughed happily, albeit feeling a little bit uncomfortable in Karen’s strong hold. You knew it didn’t seem that way, but Karen packed a wicked punch in those elegant arms of hers. Those self-defense sessions with Frankie boy that she’s been gushing about over the phone must have been finally paying off.

“Once I am done hugging you, I am so kicking your ass,” she breathed out into your hair as she squeezed you harder, as if reading your thoughts. “You’ve been ghosting me for what, a month now?”

You sighed guiltily as Karen pushed you slightly away, keeping her hands on your shoulders. You watched her as she studied your face, a creeping smile stinging at the corners of her mouth.

Grabbing one of her elbows, you groaned dramatically, pulling her towards the busy road. With your hands locked, you finally admitted:

“I did suck at communicating these past couple of weeks. Work’s been…. hectic”, the lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but this was the best explanation you’ve been able to come up with so far. “Please don’t kill me”.

Trying to keep up with your power walk, Karen let a bubbling laughter leave her lips.

“You’re not the one who should be worried then,” she gave you one of those bright trademark smiles of hers. “Next time I’m going to interview Russo, I’ll…”

You stuttered at her tirade as you walked, and of course it didn’t go by unnoticed. Karen was the best journalist you have ever met during your prominent career. She just sensed that sort of thing.

“I’m getting this ‘I-meant-to-tell-you-Karen-but-I-didn’t-and-now-you’ll-need-to-fight-it-out-of-me’ vibe”, she gave you a scrutinising look. “Want to maybe share whatever it is you’ve been not telling me before I go full interrogation mode on your plump backside?”

You rolled your eyes as you led her to a terrace-ringed Upper East Side high-rise, waving to the doorman through the glass doors. Jackson, a thirty-five year old ex-military with three kids and a labrador, gave you a brilliant smile as he hurried to open them for you.

“Good evening, Mrs Y/L/N!” He bowed his head in a stiff, very army-like manner. “A package arrived this afternoon for you, should I bring it up?”

From the corner of your eye, you caught Karen looking around, confusion written all over her face. You had a lot to catch up on.

“Don’t worry about it, Jax, just give it to me,” you didn’t mean to urge him, but you couldn’t wait to change out of your corporate attire into some comfortable old pyjamas and crack open a bottle of whiskey - that’s right, some habits did die hard. And to think you were a bubbles-kind of girl a year ago when you met him.

You could feel Karen’s blue eyes drill a hole in the back of your head as you took a small, envelope-sized package from Jackson’s hands.

It wasn’t until you both stepped into the elevator that Karen cleared her throat.

“When you said you’d rather have a girls’ night in, I asked Frank to pick me up from Queens, not from…here,” she spoke, her eyes skimming expensive red wood and mirrors. “Did you finally sleep with Russo and moved in with him?”

Whatever it was that Karen expected you to say to that, it definitely didn’t include you spitting out a roaring laugh, as you nearly dropped the package on the floor.

“Quite the opposite, actually,” you informed her after you finally restored your breath. “I left Anvil. And, well, Russo. At the end of last month”.

—

A half-bottle of whiskey for you and a bottle of white wine for Karen later, both of you were sprawled out on the lambskins thrown over the hardwood floor in your living room. Jazz music was seeping out of the speakers by the TV, a couple of Diptyque candles emitting a soft yellow glow.

You stared at the ceiling of your new living quarters, your mind a blur. As you folded your hands on your stomach, you felt Karen twitch as she bent her elbow and leaned her blond head on the palm of her hand, facing you.

“So let me get this straight,” she paused, narrowing her eyes. “After becoming the Forbes’ hottest CSO, concluding what can easily be described as deals of the century - especially the one with Anthony Stark aka Iron Man and his magnificent goatee…”

Involuntary, you giggled at this. This talk brought out some very dear memories that you wouldn’t trade for the world - the way Billy’s dark eyes shimmered in the dim lights of the opera house as he gave you a look that said you did it, ever the perfect team… Or the way he threw his arms around your frame, his long fingers sliding down your back… You knew you looked good in that dress, but the moment Billy saw you wearing it… You felt like the only girl in the world, the way his jaw dropped a tad, his lips opening up in awe…

Oookay, Y/N, can’t go there, your mind screamed at you as you wiped that dreamy smile off your face. Sitting down, you took your whiskey glass, and washed those memories away with a gulp of amber liquid.

Meanwhile, Karen ranted on.

“…you just quit?!”

She jumped to her feet all of the sudden, brushing her blond hair away from her face as she watched you excitedly.

“Jesus Christ, did Billy make a move?! He made a move on you, didn’t he?”

The urge to facepalm was fierce, almost overpowering, but you managed to resist. Slamming your empty glass against the floor harder than you intended, you gave her a bored look.

“No, Karen, why… Why in the world would you think that?” You sounded just a little short of desperate, so you cleared your throat. “I was his second-in-command, that wouldn’t have been appropriate…”

When you were done studying the flame, dancing within the glass walls of one of the nearby candles, you raised your eyes to meet Karen’s. She wore quite possibly the most blatant look of ‘you are shitting me’ on her face.

“So you just quit?” she stared at you in disbelief, unblinking. “No explanations provided?”

“This wasn’t how it happened,” you said, hating the fact that you felt like you had to justify yourself. You brought your knees closer, hugging them tightly. “I…”

—

“…I’m here to see William Russo”.  

With a nonchalant gesture, you unbuttoned your Burberry coat, looking at a red-head secretary behind a desk that screamed power and status with every inch of its epic proportions.

Anvil was certainly new money. With all of those hedge funds injecting their cash into emerging companies, there was no shortage of these - entrepreneurial endeavours that didn’t last long.

You didn’t know that at the time, but you were going to make sure this one would.

“My name is Y/N Y/N/L,” you added, perching your sunglasses on top of your head. “He’s expecting me.”

The red-head gave you a polite smile before checking something on her Mac.

“Welcome, Miss Y/N/L,” she almost seemed shy, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before standing up. “Mr Russo is indeed waiting for you. If you would like to follow me, please”.

As the redhead led you through the training grounds, packed with fit men and women that looked like they walked straight outta Gym Shark ad, you did notice a couple of vagrant stares in your direction. You couldn’t blame them. You looked slightly out of place; more Vogue than the setting allowed for.

You quit your job as the COO of a global FinTech company just weeks ago, looking for a new challenge. It was an adventure of a lifetime, and while your ex-executive board had literally begged you to stay, once you’d decided something, no promise of a generous promotion could make you change your mind. While you absolutely loved your job, working for one of the most prominent online payment giants in the world, it felt like it was time for you to step down. Due to all the processes and wise investments you’d initiated, the company could make millions of profits without their CEO having so much as to lift a finger.

And you, well, you lived for the hustle. And that’s exactly what you were here for.

You still had your doubts about Anvil’s owner and acting CEO, though. William “Billy” Russo had already become a household name in the financial circles, albeit the company he was spearheading had little to do with the FinTech space. Some said he had the potential to succeed; others badmouthed him for being ruthless and balancing on the very edge of legal limits.

In short, the man had you intrigued. So the very moment he called and invited you to drop by Anvil to talk strategy, you knew you had to meet him.

See the beast for yourself, so to speak.

The first thing you noticed about William Russo as you walked into his office, spacious and entirely transparent, with its glass walls overlooking the training grounds, was experience, for the lack of a better word. It was etched into his every handsome feature, especially into his scruff strong-willed jaw. As he raised his gaze to meet yours upon the red-head’s announcement, his black eyes swallowing you whole, you realized no light reflected on their surface. There was a certain confidence to him as he raised from his chair, his white shirt straining some over his chest, long dark strands of hair falling onto his long eyelashes. This man meant business, as those black impenetrable eyes zeroed in on yours. He almost seemed too flawless - to spotless to be an ex-marine, stained with blood and murder.

All that Hallmark handsomeness was nothing but a cover.

Before William Russo had even got a chance to open his mouth, you were determined to find out what was lurking underneath.

“Mrs Y/L/N”, the hot-shot gave you a polite smile. “Thank you for coming”.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Russo”, you didn’t move an inch. He may have invited you for interview, but he wasn’t the only one with a long set of demands.

You briefly wondered if he knew that.

Before your thoughts could take you further, William Russo made his way to you, composed and calculated. He stopped by your side, albeit for a moment; rolling the sleeves of his shirt further up, he shot the red-head a charming smile (nothing like the one he gave you).

“Olivia, would you please bring a fresh pot of coffee to the conference room? Mrs Y/L/N and I have a lot to discuss”.

When he turned back to face you, you noted unconsciously that he was taller than you expected, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders. The cool and composed look was back on his face as he motioned towards the doors.

“Would you like to follow me, Mrs…”

“Y/N”, you cut in with a slight raise of your chin. “I’d also prefer to call you William while I tear Anvil’s strategy down”.

His reaction didn’t disappoint. Some tension left his arms, his stung-up body relaxing just enough for a spark of mischief and curiosity flicker its way to his eyes’ surface.

A twinkle of a smile danced across his lips as he bit on the inside of his cheek, nodding ever so slightly in approval.

“It’s Billy”, he said, amusement echoing in his every word. "I don’t expect any leniency, Y/N”.

“Good”, you replied instantly, looking him straight into his eyes. “That’s not what I came here for”.

He nodded again.

And this time, there was liveliness in the quirk of his brow and a touch of insecurity in the corners of his mouth.

Now that was the man you could potentially work with.

—

Working with William Russo was anything but predictable. There were, however, certain patterns to his way of handling things. Whatever the trouble was, Billy was good at seeing the bigger picture - he was usually able to put things into perspective, but there were occasions when he refused to. You dare say that sometimes, you felt like he thought that money didn’t matter - like Anvil’s financial prosperity didn’t matter - as long as his team got not to risk their lives one extra time. You watched him turn down several lucrative deals that you’d busted your ass to put on his table, because it involved sending his men a little too far from home, in a place where he had no strings to pull whatsoever should anything go south. A part of you (the part that wasn’t frustrated as hell) admired him for that - it didn’t, however, stop you from disagreeing with him, time and again.

You may have never been to Iraq, and may have never known the horrors of sleeping with the bombs exploding a mere kilometer away, but you knew a game-changer when you saw it. There were risks involved, there was no arguing about that, but those were calculated, and those kind of deals could make Anvil jump straight to the top of the private military sector overnight.

William and you disagreed.

When William and you disagreed, no voice was raised, no blood was spilt, but Billy usually became distant, cold and just short of snappy when those conversations took place. 

He only crossed the line once.

  You were three months into your job as Anvil’s Chief Strategy Officer when Mayhew happened.

The clock on your desk showed midnight as you paced in your office, on the phone with Rex Mayhew, the U.S. Ambassador in Cairo. A cat-and-mouse game between the Egyptian Armed Forces and the nefarious arms dealer group had become common knowledge since a week or so; the U.S. special forces got involved in the conflict when it’d been discovered that the arms were being transported onto American soil. Rex, an old friend from your Yale days, had let you in on the fact that General Richard Ravelin, in charge of the operation, was looking to reinforce his rangs with private military before “neutralising the threat”. This was a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity, with a potential governmental recognition in play… and Billy wanted to hear nothing of it.

You were exhausted and barely hanging in there; Billy was categorical and stubborn.

You’ve dropped the phone on your table promising Rex you were going to give him an answer in two hours, tops. Taking a deep breath, you walked out of your office, your bare feet thudding on the parquet floors of the corridor. When you reached Billy’s hideout, you found the man leaning against his desk with a glass of whiskey in his unnerved hand.

“Billy…” you spoke firmly, barely stepping through the doorway. “Rex…”

“Can go fuck himself”.

Oh, okay. No sugarcoating this. Alright.

You saw his lips barely touch the amber liquid as he slammed the glass against the surface of his desk.

“I said no, Y/N,” he wasn’t facing you anymore, leaning on his desk with his hands digging into the wood, his back tense. “Please just go home. Have a good night sleep. We will talk about this tomorrow.”

You could have sworn you felt your head starting to fume. This was the third time Billy Russo was shutting you down. For the third time he was making you feel like an incompetent fool when you were trying to do your goddamn job.

Why in hell would he hire you if whatever vision you had for Anvil didn’t match with his own?!

“You could at least say this to my face, Billy,” you spoke a bit harshly before you could stop yourself. “You know, to my tired and disappointed face, with a mouth that you have been shutting up every time it offers you a deal of the century”.

This sounded so much better in your head.

“Why did you hire me?” you asked almost immediately, trying to soften the impact of the words that had already escaped. “If this isn’t the direction in which you want to take your company, maybe I should just…”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Y/N, just fucking leave already!” Billy snapped like a branch that’s been holding too much weight, the sound of it dry and final.

…maybe I should just rethink the entire plan.

There was no point in finishing that sentence now, was there?

“I was there long before you came along, so I’d think I know a shitstorm in the making when I see one!” Billy was looking at you alright, brushing his hair back, his eyes black and void.

You had wished It would have been new to you - looking in William Russo’s eyes and not seeing him there. But it wasn’t. He was back to his Hallmark version of a man, but instead of playing a hero, he was now putting on his villain guise.

“Let’s get something straight here,” he leaned back on his desk, crossing his arms on his chest, his black eyes narrowed. “While you were making your way to the top of a rich-ass cookie-cutter FinTech company, I was crawling in the dirt in Iraq under a downpour of the Trident D5LE missiles. While the closest thing you’ve come to havin’ your hands dirty was bribing an investor or two, I was fucking beheadin’ people under the direction of the CIA,” his words were cold, measured and rhythmic, like a round of bullets being fired on a range. “You know nothing of what’s it like to be in the middle of that kind of shit show, princess, so when I fucking say no, you listen. Is that clear?”

Bark. Sit. Roll over.

“Crystal. Sir.”, you finally broke the heavy silence hanging in the air, just barely resisting the urge to salute him. “I’ll see myself out.”

Biting the inside of your cheek like your life depended on it, once you turned your back on him, your first thought was don’t you dare cry on his account, bitch and then almost right away wait at least until you’re home.

You could have sworn you heard William call your name in a stranded voice, but you made sure to slam the door somewhat hard as you left his office so you could pretend you didn’t hear him.

If you were to face him now, with all that power and toughness he exuded… You would never admit it, even to yourself, but you’d just end up on the floor, huddled into a shivering little ball.

—

You were grateful that the next day after the shit went down with Mayhew fell on a Friday. When you stumbled into your apartment in Queens at almost one in the morning, you immediately shot an email to the HR department asking for a day off. Once that’d been done, you dialled Rex to decline his offer to introduce Anvil to general Ravelin, washed the makeup off your face and crawled into bed, hugging the second pillow close to your chest.

You didn’t cry, if that’s what you’re wondering.

As you rolled out of bed in the morning at around 8 am, you took a shower and grabbed a coffee from the kitchen before settling behind your home office desk with a heavy head. When you opened up the Keynote presentation with your strategy outlined for the H1, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at the iPhone you left on your couch last night.

You weren’t going to check if you had any missing calls.

There was nothing you had left to say to each other.

…with your chest hollow, you powered up the screen. There were no missed calls and no new messages.

It all looked like you had another strategy to build now. If Billy Russo thought that calling you a rich-ass princess that knew nothing of the world, all butterflies and rainbows, was going to make you resign, then man, was he in for a surprise.

You once heard one of his men compare you to a military convoy, when the guy thought you weren’t listening.

He had no idea.

You spent the morning refilling you coffee cup and rebuilding your H1 plan from scratch. After about eleven calls with the people you knew could get you a foot in the door of the offices of some government officials, billionaires and generals, after typing, deleting and typing again for 5 hours straight, by 2pm you had a solid game plan. You were pretty sure it would still need some tweaking from Castle, who essentially held the role of the Chief Operating Officer, dispatching men and women on missions and planning operations, and, well, from Billy Russo.

The Badass-ex-Sniper-turned-CEO himself.

You kept the email short and to-the-point, sending the document over to Russo with Castle on copy, saying you’d be in the office to debrief on Monday.   Refusing to check whether your email’d been opened, you slammed your MacBook shut.

The rest of the day rolled on uneventfully. You grabbed a coffee with the People Culture Officer from your previous company, who also happened to be one of your dearest friends; then you picked up your dry cleaners and did some shopping, cracking for a pair of new shoes in Saks Fifth Avenue.

Shoes were, indeed, your weakness.

By the time you got home, the tired sun was yawning, stretching its rays in one last effort before rolling into bed. Humming a Dua Lipa song under your breath, you were putting your new Jimmy Choo’s away when you suddenly heard your phone ring.

You didn’t even have to look at it to know who it was.   You checked the time, however, noticing is was two minutes after the official end of the working day.

“Hi, Y/N”, Billy spoke, clearing his throat. “Are you… Um… Any chance you’re available to meet tonight? I would really appreciate it if you could give me fifteen minutes of your time. Please.”

It sounded like the real Billy Russo was back around. Insecure. Rugged. Imperfect.

“Can you pick me up?” you asked softly, “I’ll text you my address. There’s a pizza place just around the corner, I could use a free slice”, you circled the cold coffee cup you left on the counter with your finger. “Free as in you’re paying, Russo”.

A laugh that came somewhere from within caressed your ear.

“Uh, yes, I’m actually… Yeah, thanks. I’m leaving the office now,” even if he tried to hide it, a shocked surprise still seeped through the cracks in between the vowels.

You chuckled silently at his reaction.

“Just one more thing,” you ventured, placing the cup in the sink and making your way to the balcony - your small piece of heaven with a wooden chair, pillows and lavender. As you stepped outside, you put oyour free hand on the railing, just to feel the coolness of it, the evening air and the gentle flower smell stroking your skin. “What kind of car should I be on the lookout for?”

Billy hesitated, biting his bottom lip, running his nervous fingers through the thick strands of dark hair. The setting sun was hitting him just from the right angle, making his sculpted cheeks look like they were made of marble.

“A Rolls Royce Wraith”, he squirmed, rubbing his forehead, probably realising how lame and pretentious it sounded. “I’ll call you once I’m downstairs”.

“Uh-huh”, you smirked, leaning on the railing with your forearms.

You saw Russo pinch the bridge of his nose, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip again.   Your small balcony provided quite a view, when you really thought about it.

“Don’t take too long”, you couldn’t help it, it really was stronger than you. “I’m starving”.

With a wide grin, you dropped the call and went back into your apartment.

You were planning to make him wait for ten extra minutes when he would finally “arrive”.

Just for the hell of it.

—

“That’s a lot of hot sauce for one pizza”, Billy commented, watching you spray your truffles and cheese generously with the piquant olive oil.

You gave him a mischievous smile.

“What can I say,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair and licking the tip of your finger after you swept a drop of it from the top of the bottle. “I like them hot”.

That startled a laugh out of Billy as he eyed you with something in his irises looking a lot like awe.

Just when he was about to speak, a servant brought a glass of red wine for him and bottle of sparkling water for you.

You thanked the guy with a sweet smile, while Billy eyed him a bit coldly, obviously waiting for him to leave.

When the waiter had finally made himself scarce, Billy softly called your name.

You raised your eyes to meet him, struggling as hell to keep your stare vacant. (Which was hard to do with some foreign tightness in your throat).

“Before we dig in and I hope spend a nice evening as two friends, getting together on a Friday night”, he didn’t even blink? Was he blinking? You couldn’t tell, his black eyes swallowing you whole, again. “I want to apologise. I was completely out of line… It was unacceptable. You don’t need my validation, of course, but I still want you to know that you are doing a terrific job at Anvil, taking us to the heights I never even thought existed. It’s just… It’s hard for me sometimes to be a good CEO and someone who promised to take care of my men at the same time… Everything is happening so fast, I’m afraid to lose my footing.”

You reached out for his hand across the table before you could stop yourself. You didn’t take it, but your fingers brushed his ever so slightly before you realized what you were just about to do. Your eyes widened as you looked at him, searching for a reaction.   Billy remained perfectly still, not taking his eyes off you.

You grabbed a napkin next to his wrist, pretending this was what you had meant to do all along.   “We’ll get there, Billy”, you said, a small encouraging smile blooming on your lips. “We just need some tweaking”.

You weren’t sure if you were talking about strategy at this point anymore.

—

You had a great time at dinner.

(And a whole-hearted laugh as Billy finished your remainders of the truffle pizza, downing a litre of water to numb down the burning sensation in his throat afterwards).

You talked about your respective lives, your ex-colleagues, your hopes for the future… You dared think this who the real Billy Russo was.

And he was incredible.

After the two of you were done with dinner, you offered him to come upstairs to your place and go through the new strategy together. He didn’t hesitate, although you could swear you’d seen something ambiguous flash in the depths of his dark eyes before he nodded.

(You must have imagined it.)

The two of you ended up sprawled out on your soft faux fur carpet talking game plan, bouncing ideas off each other. You watched Billy frown, as he rubbed his mouth with his long fingers, smile in excitement and shake his head in awe when you voiced your ideas - you felt proud and appreciated, and you wouldn’t trade the sensation for anything in the world.

A couple of hours later the two of you had finally decided that it was enough brainstorming for one night, and you rose to your feet to go and make Billy a coffee before he got behind the wheel. As you pushed the start button on your coffee machine, you heard him speak over the noise.

“You know I’ve done four tours - three in Iraq and one in Afghanistan”, you popped your head up, only to see him play absentmindedly with something on his chest. “And every time I’m considering a mission for Anvil, I find myself back in there again… A part of a death squad.”

You carefully picked up his cup of coffee and made your way back to him. You didn’t say a word as you leaned lower to hand it over to him, encouraging him to go on.   Billy thanked you in a whisper before clearing his throat.

“Every time I have to send them somewhere, especially overseas, I force myself to stop and think… Is this really worth it? Is a fat check really worth putting the lives of my men and women in danger? And most importantly - you may think it’s stupid…” he avoided your gaze, staring into his coffee cup, a miserable smile on his lips. “I think, will it make a difference? If one of them dies on a mission, I have to at least know they made a difference… it’s selfish and it’s more about the peace of my own mind, but it is what it is, you know?”

When he looked up at you, his eyes were full, full to the brim. There was so much emotion in them, hatred, misery, hope, adoration, all whipped in a wild mix that was Billy Russo’s dark, velvet eyes.

“I carry these at all times,” the fingers of his free hand dropped to his chest, as he got a hold of something hanging around his neck. A necklace? “When in doubt, I just look at them - they help me remember where I’ve been and what I’ve done - and I just know if it’s worth it or not. The answer is usually no, by the way”.

He smiled again, the curve of his lips looking less haunted this time, as he sipped on his coffee.

Dog tags. Those were Russo’s dog tags.

“So they’re your reminder that, even being a badass CEO of a private military company”, you couldn’t help but feel some kind of zero gravity settling in your lower stomach as you saw him chuckle at your words. “…you still have a heart”.

“How poetic”, Billy teased you without missing a beat, putting the empty cup on the floor next to him. “But yeah. Sort of, I guess”.

As you fell asleep that night, you dreamed about explosions, piquant olive oil and holding Billy Russo’s dog tags in your hand.

—

The time flew by after that. In 8-month time (after some tweaking) Billy Russo and you became a team. It sometimes felt like nothing could stop you, as long as you were together.

It should not have come as a surprise that the two of you earned yourselves a catchy nickname - at first, it was spoken solely behind your backs, but soon enough it became some kind of a title, more powerful than that of the CEO or the CSO.

Anvil’s men and women (and especially Frank - the fact that he invented the nickname secretly tickled him pink) - were now calling you Bonnie and Clyde. The ultimate partners in crime, against all odds, doing the impossible.

The two of you also settled in an almost homely kind of routine. Ever since that Mayhew fiasco and the day that followed, Friday had become the non-spoken partners in crime day. What it meant in practice was exchanging Friday jokes on Anvil’s internal communications suite…

(Billy once attacked you with a “would you look at this, just found the actual footage of your interview @ Anvil”. Before you even got a chance to answer, he forwarded you a cheesy meme with two old women speaking to each other, one of them saying “We need someone who can do the job of two men”, and the other responding “oh, so it’s only a part-time job then”. When you shot him back a message asking whether he really considered himself an arthritic old woman, that seemed to have shut him up).

…grabbing a beer in a bar nearby…

(you sometimes invited your colleagues to join you, plus it was an unspoken rule that Frank and Karen were to be there as well)

…you making fun of Billy Russo’s eating habits…

(It was honestly a nuisance to have a lunch with him. The list of things he refused to eat went on and on: no asian food, no food chain restaurants (even high-rated), no soups, no cheesecakes… He sure was settling well in that peaceful life he earned after spending all those tours living off canned food).

…and just overall enjoying each other’s company.

By the time the ninth month of your being Anvil’s CSO had rolled in, you couldn’t imagine not seeing Billy Russo every day. Not noticing him rolling his eyes at a smart-ass comment you or Frank made, or his orbs lighting up every time you told him the deal with that or this decision maker had gone through. You simply could not understand how you managed to live day in and day out, and think you were genuinely happy, before you actually met Billy. Everything before him just faded away somehow, your memories lost their colour and spike in comparison to the life you were living now. You kicked ass at your job, your career thrived, but most importantly, you were feeling like this was exactly where you were meant to be, braving the obstacles by Billy Russo’s side, knowing he would catch you should you fall.

He would, wouldn’t he?

It was your usual Friday night outing, the seven of you - Billy, Frank, Karen, Curtis, James from legal, Ashley from mine clearance and yourself - occupying your usual table at Whimsy, the bar that must have made 90% or their revenus off of Anvil’s folk. It was just around the corner from the headquarters, after all.

The overall mood of the evening was rather nostalgic. It’d been four weeks since you’d lost a team member in a crossfire in Falluja, Iraq. After everything was said and done, his loss still hung heavy in the air, and it felt right to get one more drink in Jasper’s honour. The conversation flowed easily, even though the topics you’d spoken about were anything but.

“I remember how I felt when I lost Andy”, Ashley nursed her beer as she stared into the distance. “I just literally had the weight of the entire world on my shoulders, pinning me to the ground, I just couldn’t move on”, she finished her bottle in one go and motioned for the bartender to bring her another one. “Sometimes, I just ask myself, what would have I done if I’d known he was going to die the next day? Would I have stopped him from going? I think I would,” she thanked the bartender as he put the beer in front of her, her eyes a bit foggy. “Yeah, I definitely would have.”

Frank grasped Ashley’s shoulder and squeezed it hard in a comforting gesture; Karen gave her a tender look.

You didn’t know why your mind had gone there, but all of the sudden a memory of Billy sitting in his office chair, laughing his ass off at some offhand comment you’d made flashed before your eyes; it quickly got replaced by the recollection of his hand brushing against yours during the Zoom meeting you’ve had with general Warren Singer; then you remembered him putting his hand on the small of your back, staring daggers at some army brat wanting to join Anvil, eyeing you like a piece of meat (you learned later that day that the man’d been thrown out before having a chance to introduce himself); until finally, your brain stopped dead at the picture of Billy running his nervous fingers through his hair as he called you from his car, telling you he was only leaving the office.

What would you do if you knew he was going to die tomorrow?

Your heart sunk at the thought as you gulped hard, ducking your head and staring at your hands folded in your lap.

A soft touch enveloping your elbow had you facing the man of the hour, his black eyes shimmering with concern.

“Are you okay?” he half-whispered, half-mouthed, not letting go of your hand.

No.

Nothing is okay, Billy.

I’m so happy that I met you, but you’re scaring the hell out of me.

I never wanted any form of eternity until now, I never saw the point…

So stay. Please, stay forever, and feel something for me, too.

“Yes. I’m fine,” you whispered back, staring into his eyes, hypnotised and helpless. You watched him turn away from you as if in slow motion, the warmth of his hand leaving nothing behind but emptiness in your bones.

“Here is to always telling the things that matter to the people who matter”, Billy spoke firmly, raising his beer. “Here’s to never missing a chance to open up to the people we love”.

Well, if this was his way of crossing the t's and putting the dots to the i’s regarding his feelings for you, he couldn’t have been clearer.  

As far as confessions of love went, this one was non-existent.

—

You tried, time and again, to convince yourself you had to go. You learned the hard way that your unrequited feelings were feeding on a sort of inadvertent parasitic relationship where every moment of your day depended on the level of Billy’s unintentional emotional indifference. Your days were spent questioning his every move - every look and every touch; until, the grown-ass woman that you were, you’d commanded yourself to stop second-guessing everything - stop feeling - and decided your best course of action would be… to work yourself into the ground.

If Billy ever noticed anything, he didn’t show it - your were still you, after all, working hard, laughing when he said something funny, calling him out on his bullshit when needed. He didn’t notice slight change in your eyes, when their icy surface cracked at every other compliment he threw in your direction (and there was no shortage of those). He didn’t realize the smile you gave him was different from those tightlipped signs of appreciation you gave to Anvil’s potential clients, he didn’t think twice about the reason for which you glowed around him, your every move softening, your every gesture emanating warmth.

Because Billy hadn’t really known you until you started to have feelings for him.

You knew this couldn’t go on forever. This entire situation was bound to result in some explosion of nuclear proportions, and then all hell would break loose. You needed to get yourself out of this situations, but you just… couldn’t. You couldn’t imagine your life without Billy Russo. You couldn’t leave him.

Even if being friends with him meant tearing yourself apart and suffering in silence.

  Long story short, you waited with fear in your bones for someone to walk into your life and to get you out. You’ve had no fight left in you to do it yourself.

Your salvation came in the form of a phone call on a Friday evening, when Billy was on a recruiting mission in California.

You were typing back a response to his cheeky message when the call cut in half-sentence.

Billy Russo: Please remind me to take you with me instead of Frank next time? He’s driving me insane trying to set me up with the ladies from the Organising Committee. Any ideas on how I can calm him the fuck down?

You: Sorry, Billy, but recruiting is out of my mission scope. As for the calm down part, try bondage maybe? :)

Billy Russo: I’m going to pretend you did not just suggest I engage in sexual practices with Frankie. Karen will have my balls.

Billy Russo: But perhaps you’re right. Taking you with me is probably not a good idea. Wouldn’t want my new recruits’ brains to turn into mush because of how beautiful you are.

You: The flattery will….

“Hello? Y/N speaking”, you brought your phone close to your ear, your cheeks still a lovely shade of pink. If you were going to feel miserable when Billy came back, acting like nothing happened, you were sure going to make the best of that fuzzy feeling in your chest right now.

“Miss Y/N/L”, a smooth deep voice greeted you, and you could have sworn you’d heard it many times before. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”

Frowning in an attempt to remember, you urged:

“No, not at all. How can I help you?” you stared into the screen of your Mac, wheels turning in your head as you silently catalogued all the men you were in discussions with regarding a deal. “I didn’t catch your name…”

“Oh, how rude of me”, the man chuckled but there was no mockery in his voice, more like self-depreciation. “Tony Stark, from Stark Industries”.

Your mind went blank. Did you hear his last words correctly?

“Uh… Mr. Stark”, you quickly got a hold of yourself - well, as quickly as you could. “I appreciate you reaching out to me directly. What can Anvil do for you?”

You did a pretty bang-up job trying to mask your amazement with polite cheerfulness, and Stark had caught on that.

Tony Stark just called your cellphone number. What in the world?…

“We don’t really do alien invasions”.

Ohyourgod, did you just say it out loud?!

His uproarious laughter took you by surprise, reverberating through your entire body. It took every ounce of your self-control not to giggle in response.

“That’s a good one, I love it”, Stark finally said, restoring his breath. “And the better question would be, Y/N - can I call you Y/N? - what you can do for me”.

Before your brain could take you into some naughty direction, freaking Iron Man cleared his throat.

“Okay, this came out wrong,” he admitted with a sense of self-irony. “I um… I’m looking for the Co-Chief Executive Officer for Stark Industries. Well, Virginia Potts is actually looking for a Co-CEO, I’m just her errand boy. And my missions apparently include recruiting…. Anyway,” it was a bit of a challenge to follow Anthony Stark’s train of thought, but you were also still shocked, so that could explain it. “…I think you are the perfect fit for the job”.

You just stared into the screen front of you, your breathing barely audible.

“Mrs Potts and I would love it if you could swing by the A-Tower, let’s say, on Thursday? You’ll be surprised, but I can also whip up a mean cup of coffee…”

Say something.

Fucking hell.

Say something!…

“Thursday sounds great,” you blurted out without thinking. “Let me just shuffle my schedule around… I could stop by after lunch?”   Your hands were slightly shaking as you clicked on your mouse, opening your schedule window.

“Whatever works for you, Y/N”, you could hear Stark smile. “Not to sound like a creep, but I’ve been following your career for quite a while now, and I think that the work you've done in such a short span of time for Anvil is outstanding, even though you still don’t offer protection from alien invasions”.

That made you chuckle, pushing you halfway out of your stupor.

“I’ll put that on the list of things for us to consider”, you promised.

"Tell Mr. Russo I sent my best,” Stark added, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. “I actually might have some ideas for how we could collaborate. Let's discuss this on Thursday, too, shall we?”

After you said your goodbyes, you fell back in your chair, dropping your iPhone on the table.

You: The flattery will….

...get you nowhere.

You never finished that message, leaving Russo on Read.

—

Starting with that evening, things were moving fast - too fast for you to keep track.

After a three-hour long coffee and the tour of the A-Tower, Virginia Potts, the acting CEO of the Stark Industries, had offered you the job - just like that - and asked you to come back to her executive assistant should you wish to take the job, with your salary expectations and the information about your notice period. You thanked her for her time and promised to get back to her as soon as you made your decision.

Virginia Potts was a brilliant woman; but running a company like Stark Industries while being equipped with a vagina was certainly no walk in the park. Sexism was still very much present within the Boards of the Tech Businesses. You understood perfectly well why she wanted a woman in her corner - it would have been a massive slap in the Board’s face, but it was also about having someone to lean on, who just understood.

In any other circumstances you would have peed your pants in excitement. It was an opportunity to work for Stark Industries - no, scratch that - it was an opportunity to step in as a Stark Industries co-CEO. The idea of it still made you dizzy.

…but as you looked at Virginia’s email sent to your personal address thanking you for stopping by, your eyes were swimming with tears.

You weren’t ready to leave Billy.  You just couldn’t.  You couldn’t leave him.   There was no epic finale to your story. There was no big revelation, no closure, no moment of relief, no acceptance, nothing. Only a fat-ass what if.

And you didn’t know how to let go of a what if with Billy Russo.

And that was exactly why you had to do it.

You heard Billy come in the next Monday earlier than usual. He was positively humming Usher’s Yeah! quietly as he made his way past your office’s doors straight into his own.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You’ve been psyching yourself up during the entire weekend, telling yourself it wasn’t a big deal, we wouldn’t even flinch when you were going to tell him.

You had to tell him.

As you stood up from your chair, straightening you skirt with the palms of your hands, you suddenly heard the footsteps coming back in your direction. You froze in place like a deer in headlights when Billy swung open the door to your office, a box of Pierre Hermé macarons in his hands.

Your goddamn favorite Pierre Hermé macarons.

“You’re here!” Billy’s warm smile illuminated the room. “So much for a surprise, huh?”

He shook the box carefully in the air. You stared at it, dumbfounded, every single thought leaving you.

You couldn’t breathe.

In the hazy morning light seeping through the windows of your office, Billy looked beautiful and dissolute, shirt open at the collar, longer strands of dark hair falling into his eyes.

He was going to be the death of you. It really wasn’t fair.

“Billy, I have to tell you something.”

Was it you who spoke those words? They seemed distant and cold, so uncharacteristically detached.

Blood roared in your ears.

“What’s wrong?”

Billy’s reaction was instant. In three decisive steps he closed the distance that separated you, leaving the macarons on your desk. He stood still just mere inches away, and just like during your very first meeting, you had a fleeting thought cross your mind: you really were tiny next to him, the top of your head barely reaching his shoulders.

You bit the inside of your bottom lip, trying to keep your composure. He stared at you unblinking. He wasn’t touching you, but it felt like his eyes were looking straight into your soul, undressing you, blowing that wall you built around yourself into dust. They were taking you down, piece by piece, determined to see what you’d been keeping from him.   Because, of course, he knew. He should have known something was going on. Hence the surprise this morning.

He had no idea what it was though.

“Maybe you should sit,” you said, making a physical effort to tear your eyes away from him, feigning sudden interest in the buttons of his shirt.

  That chest…

  …was going to be just fine. He didn’t feel the same way you did. He would just find someone else to fill your position. With brilliant women stalking him - in cooperative packs - that would not be a problem.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you”.

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as his words reached your ears.  Fucking hell, you should have done that by phone. Or with other people around. You should have…

“You’re leaving”, you heard Billy repeat as his voice broke a little. He stepped away, burying his face in his hands as he dragged them down his jaw and neck, staring into the ceiling.

“Billy, listen, I…”

You were the one to close the space between the two of you this time, and before you could think too much into it… You threw your hands around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

The sensation struck you like a bolt of lightening when you felt his hands cross behind you back and pull you closer.

He smelled heavenly. Like a forest fire, a hint of smoke with oud and pine. You inhaled deep, deeper still, losing yourself in his comforting touch.

In his arms, just for a second there, you felt home.

“You… The company doesn’t need me anymore”, you nearly choked on words, screaming internally at yourself to keep the waterworks at bay. “It’s thriving, there’s not much else I can give you. My job here is done.”

I need to leave because your indifference is destroying me, and when I think I’m ready to let go, all it takes is one look from you, and I’m back to wanting you, to settling for anything you give me, like a goddamn fool.

“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?!” Billy exclaimed, his hands grasping your shoulders as he distanced your bodies just enough for him to look into your eyes. “I nee- The company needs you! I was… You know, I was planning to make you the CEO of Anvil in a couple months time,” his smile, as earnest as it was, did not reach his eyes. “Yeah”, noticing your eyes go wide in shock, he let his hands slide down your sides. “You’re so much better at it than I ever was. I was going to join Frank and just manage operations… under you”.

You just stared at him, dumbfounded, not feeling a stray tear escape your eye and rolling down your cheekbone.

“These are the tears of happiness, I hope”, Billy added, and you barely registered his touch as his thumb wiped the salty drop off. “Well, I guess Anvil will have to settle for the little old me. With my best girl going places."

You gave him a strained smile before you carefully wiped your cheeks, just taking a moment to look at him. To try and read him.

Billy Russo was a goddamn ceiling. Plain white, cool and unattainable. In all of your time working for him, you have never seen this Hallmark version of him before. Which one was it?  

Oh wait, you guessed you knew. The happy-for-you friend.

“So where are you going?” Billy asked, his eyes empty. “Who snatched you away from m- Anvil?”

The stutter was so subtle you barely noticed. You were finally tired of reading into shit.

“Stark Industries. I’ll be their co-CEO”.

—

Before you left Anvil you promised yourself you’d get the deal with Stark Industries up and running. There was no one in the world you trusted more in terms of security than Billy.

(The fact that you couldn’t keep your heart safe from him didn’t really count, did it?)

As a matter of fact, Billy and you were going to shake hands with Anthony Stark on the deal on your last night of being Anvil’s CSO. It was happening in The Metropolitan Opera and required both Billy and yourself to dress for the occasion.   He promised to come pick you up at 6pm sharp; you were putting on the Jimmy Choo’s you’d bought a coulee months ago in Saks Fifth Avenue when you heard a low knock on your door.

Straightening up, you threw a quick glance at your reflection in the mirror. You decided to go with a long Marchesa black velvet gown with a rather deep V-line, a pair of long diamond earrings and an elegant half-up half-down hairdo, soft curls in the front framing your face.

“I’m coming”, you yelled out, picking up your leather jacket (because why the hell not) and your purse from the kitchen counter. Sharply opening the entrance door, you realized moments later that you didn’t even take time to prepare yourself for seeing William Russo in a tux.

If you weren’t already half in love with him, the sight before your eyes would have sealed the deal.

God-fucking-damn, like he needed any help being unforgettable.

With a black jacket thrown on a crisp white shirt with a couple of buttons undone and the tie hanging loosely around his neck, Billy was here to make a statement, to leave a mark. His hair was coiffed back in his usual style; honest to God, he looked like he just stepped out of the Man of the Year special GQ edition…

Just when your thoughts were about to switch to the way you must have looked next to him, ridiculous in your simplicity, like you refused to make an effort…

…Your eyes met his.

And the way he looked at you was so intense, his big black eyes with galaxies in them probing into yours, his strong jaw slack. There was beauty and tragedy reflecting in those orbs, but only just for a second - just for a second, he looked at you the way he probably looked at the sky he could never reach. Just for a second, he looked at you the way that made your heart beat twice as fast, like the world could crumble all around him and he still would not have blinked.

Would not have taken his eyes off you.

“Wow, Y/N, you look… You look beautiful”, he finally said. “I just can't spot a part of you that beats the other.”

Something in your chest exploded silently.

“Thank you, Billy,” you smiled at him - a genuine and happy smile, because you felt on top of the world with his adoring eyes on you. “You’re quite a catch yourself”.

Before you could scold yourself for your choice of words, you stepped out of your apartment and locked the door behind you.

“Shall we?” Billy offered his hand to you, without hesitation it seemed.

“We shall”, you replied instantly, slowly sliding your hand into the crook of his elbow.

And, just like always, you were going to enjoy it while it lasted.

—

The crowd in the opera was so posh, the looks all the women had been throwing you first made you question your choice of outfit. It’s after overhearing their conversations that you realized, the reason they stared daggers at you was the man that kept by your side no matter where you went.

Virginia and Anthony welcomed you at the buffet with sun-stained sincere smiles. After a short small talk, Anthony Stark informed you both that he had signed the contract earlier today, thus officially giving Anvil an exclusive security deal with Stark Industries. As of now, Anvil was the only company allowed on the Stark Industries’ premises in the quality of guards and protection officers.

The look Billy and you exchanged spoke volumes; while your eyes were sparkling with excitement though, screaming “we did it!!”, his bottomless black eyes were whispering “thanks to you”.

The four of you then shook hands and went through rounds of gratitude and appreciation; when a pleasant woman’s voice announced the imminent start of Onegin, inviting the guests to go to their seats. Virginia immediately took you hand, leading you straight into the Opera house, saying something about leaving men to finish their drinks. You threw Billy a laughing look over your shoulder, mouthing “come join me” before disappearing out of his sight.

“So on the scale of one to ten, how pissed at me are you, Mr. Russo?”

Billy turned his head sharply to a side, leaning on the high table, and spotted Anthony Stark himself, nursing a glass of whiskey. “For taking your queen away from you? Excuse the chess metaphor, but that woman”, Stark took a sip of his whiskey and savoured it before swallowing it down. “Is a goddamn queen.”

Billy chuckled, straightening up, digging his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“That, she is,” he whispered, his eyes still piercing the spot in the crowd where your smiling face was mere minutes ago.

—

When the opera ended, both Billy and you couldn’t be more relieved - because both of you hated it with passion.

Exchanging meaningful glances in the dark during the singers’ performances now and then, you had to bite your tongue in order to not just ask Billy if you could maybe sneak out. Russo proved to be more stoic than you, carefully covering your hand with his in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

You didn’t look at him once after that, afraid to say or do something that would make him remove his hand.

How much more pathetic could you get?

When the performance was over, Billy led you out of the opera house without saying a word, his hand hugging carefully the small of your back.

His silence was unnerving. You didn’t know what to make of it. Should you have shaken his hand off back in the darkness of the concert hall? Or should you have caressed it with your thumb?

Your mind was spinning in circles by the time he opened the door for you and you slid into the front passenger seat of his Rolls goddamn Royce.

When he got in the car and gripped his steering wheel, you reached out and placed your hand on his whitening knuckles.

“Billy,” you spoke softly, barely audibly. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” he whispered back, turning his head to a side to face you. His black eyes stared into yours, looking hypnotised and helpless. “Everything is fine.”

It didn’t take a degree in Psychology to see that he was lying. You could feel his gaze on you as you turned away from him, taking your hand away at the same time.

Billy started the car. The revving engine filled the silence, loaded with the unsaid words.

—

“…he then walked me to my door, we exchanged our goodbyes. And that was it,” you finished lightly, looking back at Karen.

Her eyes were red as she stared at you, unblinking.

“Unbelievable…” she whispered. “So you never told him?…” her lips barely moved.

You sighed.

“Have you ever felt like you’re potentially in love with someone? Like, you don’t actually love him, you know you don’t, but one day you realise that you could? You realise just how easy it would be for you to fall in love with him? With all the teasing and the banter, the play hitting each other, calling each other names, just…. You start to pick up on little things - like if you listen closely, in every shut up, there’s a barely-there ring of I could love you.”  You shifted on the floor a little, and Karen watched your memories transport you somewhere else again. While physically your were here, in your apartment - with your fluttering eye-lashes, uneven breathing and loaded expression - mentally, you were somewhere else.

“….You probably don’t notice it at first, but your body is drawn to him. Every accidental or absentminded touch…” you continued quietly. “And there’s that twinkle in his eyes when he looks at you and it messes you up, because - what’s going on with you? What the hell does it even mean? Are you imagining shit? You’re trying to make sense.”  

Karen didn’t interrupt, still staring at you as if she were seeing you for the first time

“I mean, he didn’t ask for any of it, you know?” you finally raised your foggy stare at Karen, as if searching for confirmation. “Maybe he just did something dumb one day, smiled at you or said something that seemed important and then all of the sudden you’re full on Looney Tunes, seeing stuff that isn’t there?”

Your words barely audible, you swallowed hard, before continuing.  “…I just kept looking at him with what ifs, and could haves, seeing all that goddamn potential. It’s so fucking twisted. Over-analyzing everything? Waiting for a sign?…” you chuckled bitterly all of the sudden. “…I was so fucking scared of reading too much into it, of crossing that line, because… It would be so easy!… Falling in love with him would have been so easy.”

Oh sweetheart, Karen’s eyes glowed with comfort as she reached out for your hand and squeezed it softly. But you already are in love with him.   

A loaded silence ripped through the air in your living room. The sound of an engine revving somewhere close squeezed its way through the slit of an opened window, and it seemed to break the trance.

Both Karen and you shuddered, and as you took in the realisation Karen’s eyes just bestowed upon you, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“It’s pretty late,” Karen spoke up, reading you like an open book. She knew it was her cue to leave the stage. You needed time to process. “Frank is in a bar nearby with Curtis, let me just give him a call, okay, sweetheart?” she gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze. “You know where to find me when you need me”.

“Yes”, you responded, blinking tiredly. “Thank you so much for coming, Karen. I didn’t mean to unload on you like that…”

“Shut the hell up,” the blonde advised, raising her eyebrows. “But honestly, Y/N, please call me once you… come to terms with things, okay?”

You nodded.

When Karen left, leaving the sweet and pleasant smell of her perfume behind, you closed the door behind her and turned around, leaning on the cold wood and metal with your eyes closed.

It’s been a month. This was supposed to pass by now. Billy was supposed to stop inviting himself into your dreams. You were supposed to heal.

You may have just realized you were in love with the man instead.

Letting out half a moan, half a groan, you peeled yourself from the door slowly, and brushed your hair back, wanting nothing more than to fall face-first into bed.

After you at least cleaned up a bit and put out the Dyptique candles, that is.

As your eyes scanned your living room in an attempt to asses the size of the job at hand, you stopped mid-way, zeroing in on the box Jax gave you earlier in the evening. It rested silently on the kitchen table.

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you made your way to the kitchen area. Grabbing the package, you turned it around, looking for any indication of the sender.

The package wasn’t even stamped.

Curiosity getting the best of you, you took a moment to grab a knife from one of the drawers, and carefully swished it between the two cardboard sheets.

Flipping over the envelop, you heard something fall out of it before you could actually see it. A small sheet of paper floated in the air before falling on the surface, partially covering whatever fell out of the package.

Your heart squeezed the second your brain identified the object, attached to a worn silver chain.

With trembling fingers, you slid two metal pieces from under the paper, covering your mouth.

Finding their home in the palm of your hand, Billy’s dog tags shimmered in the dim candlelight.

Squeezing them in between your fingers, you grabbed the paper with your free hand, your eyes staring at one single sentence scribbled on its surface.

“You took my heart with you”.

#billy russo x you #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo angst #billy russo fanfic #billy russo story #the punisher imagine #billy russo imagine #the punisher story #billy russo request

624 notes · View notes

axoxtxhxh · 4 years ago

Text

Not Without Trying - Chapter 13

Summary: The questioning of Reiner takes place, but will Reader be able to handle seeing him?

LevixFem!Reader

ReinerxFem!Reader

Warnings: A small bit of torture (it’s mainly punching)

Word Count: ~ 2,600

“Did… um…” The lump in her throat was so big at this point, she could barely speak. “Did you really love me?” Tears were pouring down her cheeks and her nose was dripping. She sniffled. Reiner looked at her, devastated.

“Y/N… I’ve never stopped loving you.” He revealed. “Not once.”

“But you…” She wiped her nose on her sleeve and brushed away her tears. “You still did this.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” He tried to approach her, but the chains kept him close to the wall. “Please, Y/N just let me explain. I promise, I—”

“All those houses…” The tears were rolling down her cheeks like waterfalls and her breath was starting to hitch. “All those people…” Reiner continued trying to get free from the chains to reach her, his own eyes watering now. He just needed to explain to her.

“Y/N… I…” He couldn’t see her like this. He couldn’t look at her this hurt, knowing he caused it and couldn’t hold her.

“There were so many people who suffered.” She started sobbing. “Reiner, my family.” She covered her face in her hands and wept.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” He pulled from the wall again, but couldn’t move more than a few inches away. “Please, I’m so sorry.” He pulled again and again and again, but no luck. “Fuck! These stupid chains!” He twisted his body, trying to get free just to go to her. “Please! Y/N! Please!” He was sobbing now and sunk down onto the concrete. He just needed to hold her. He needed to explain everything. Every stupid decision he made, all the regrets he had, he just needed her to know.

They were both crying that they didn’t hear Levi open the cell and walk over to her. He put his hand on her back and guided her out of the cell and headed upstairs.

“Wait!” Reiner called. “Wait! Y/N, Please! I love you! Just let me explain!” She continued hearing him call until she was in the mess hall. Levi guided her upstairs to her room and laid her on the bed.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” He asked her, sitting on the bed. She nodded and he rested his hand on her shoulder, rubbing her arm then leaned back on the bed so she could rest on his chest. Levi reached his hands up and pulled her hair loose, running his hands through her hair as she cried.

After about an hour, Hange knocked lightly on the door and opened it, peeking inside. Levi and Y/N sat up.

“Sorry to bother you so soon.” She said from halfway behind the door. “Levi, Pixis wants to see us. Y/N, when you feel up to it, please come to my office.” They both nodded and he left.

Levi turned to Y/N, resting his hand on her cheek and rubbing away the tear lines. His shirt was fully soaked through. She laid her head on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do anything.” He held her hand as he spoke. “They can do whatever they need with Hange, Miche, and me. You could stay here until everything is figured out.”

“I know.” She nodded. “But I need an explanation too.” He kissed the top of her head and stood up, looking at her one more time before he made his way to the door and opened it. “Levi.” She called and he turned around to look at her. “Can we take the restraints off of him?”

Levi clenched his jaw and looked away from her.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Then he left. Levi met Hange in the hallway.

“They want us to question Reiner again.” Hange told him. “They don’t think he will talk, but they want it to look like we tried before they send Y/N in again.” Levi’s head shot up to look at Hange.

“They what?” Levi glowered.

“I know what you’re think—”

“I won’t allow this.” He started to walk back to their office, but Hange grabbed his arm.

“If this weren’t Y/N, you’d be suggesting the same thing.” Their voice was quiet. “They will obviously give her a choice, but we both know what she will say.”

Levi and Hange went back down the cell to question Reiner. At this point Levi was visibly furious, hating the fact that he had to put on a show for Reiner.

“Where’s Y/N?” Reiner asked. The tears on his cheeks were dry now. His eyes followed Levi as he opened the cell and walked inside. Hange stayed outside.

“She’s not here.” Levi released the restraints around Reiner’s hands allowing him to separate from the wall and pulled a chair up to sit in front of him.

“What are you—” Reiner started.

“I am asking the questions.” Levi stated. “Where are you from?”

“I only want to speak to Y/N.” Reiner declared.

“You are not in any position to negotiate. Where are you from?” He repeated.

“I am only speaking to—”

Levi leaned forward, stepping on Reiner’s hand and Reiner cried out.

“Do whatever you want,” Reiner panted. “I only want to speak to Y/N.”

Levi shot up from the chair and was on top of Reiner, holding his collar. He punched his cheek.

“Maybe—” Punch. “—I should—” Punch. “—hit you—” Punch. “—for every—” Punch. “—time I had—” Punch. “—to see—” Punch. “—Y/N cry—” Punch. “—because of—” Punch. “—YOU—” Punch. “—You piece—” Punch. “—of shit.” Punch.

He let go, sinking to his knees, breathing heavily and Reiner collapsed to the floor.

“Levi.” Hange’s hand was on his shoulder. “He’s unconscious.”

…..

Back in the main office, there was a small knock at the door and Y/N walked in.

The room was empty until Levi, Miche, and Hange walked in. Levi looking significantly angrier than when he left Y/N and Hange looking worried. Hange passed out tea to everyone and when Levi sat next to Y/N and took a sip from his cup, Y/N noticed how bloody his knuckles were.

“What happened to your hand?” She asked, worriedly.

“It’s nothing.” He put his hand on hers and they waited for Hange to speak.

“I think you might know what I’m going to say. The only thing we need is to get Reiner to talk.” Hange walked to the side of the table and Levi stood up, almost making a barrier between them and Y/N. Y/N and Miche’s eyes moved back and forth between Hange and Levi. Hange walked back to their seat and sat down and Levi moved to stand in front of Y/N’s chair, leaning against the desk. “He seems like he will talk as long as it’s to you, Y/N.”

“I’ll do it—”

“No. No way.” Levi protested. “No fucking way. I won’t let you.”

“You won’t let me?” She scoffed.

“You know what I mean.” He looked at her. “You are only thinking about everyone else right now. You need to think about yourself.”

“It’s my decision, Levi.” Y/N grabbed his hand. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but Hange is right, this is the easiest way.”

“Please just think about this, Y/N.” He begged.

“I am thinking about it.” She told. “Think of the information we can get from him. If he really is willing to tell us everything. Answers about titans, where he comes from, who else is there. We could know all of it. I can get Reiner to tell me.” Levi sighed and looked at the ground. Hange noticed the way Y/N was looking at Levi and realized it might be better if they could talk alone.

“Miche, let me debrief you on some things.” He stood and they walked outside, closing the door behind them.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Y/N started, “But I can do it. The first time was hard, but I’m prepared now. I have all the questions in this packet, I even have some of my own.”

Levi didn’t respond, he just leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, her hands in his. Y/N reached forward and pulled him into her lap. Levi glowered at her and she laughed then pulled him in for a hug. They stayed like this for a while.

“If at any point you want to stop,” he began, “just tell me.”

“I will.” Y/N pulled his face close and kissed him. “What do you say you come to my room tonight? After all the questioning.”

He looked at her and let himself smile a bit before leaning down and connecting their lips. They let it get deep enough, but then pulled away. Levi stood up and reached for her hand and they both left to meet the others.

…..

They made their way back down to the cell. Pixis, Hange, Levi, Miche, and Y/N were the only ones there, hoping to keep the group small so no information could be leaked. As they reached Reiner’s cell, Y/N could see him sitting on the bed, hugging his knees. He looked up as he saw them. As soon as he saw Y/N, he stood up and was about to speak.

“If you can’t stay seated, we will have to restrain you again.” Levi directed. Reiner sat back down.

They placed a chair in front of where Reiner sat with enough space between to feel safe. Y/N sat there and the rest of them sat against the back wall. She could see that he’d gotten a beating since she was last here. That explains Levi’s hands. Reiner kept trying to smile at her, each time wincing from his split lip.

“Where are you from?” She began, reading from the list of questions they gave her.

“I—I’m from a place called Marley.” His throat was dry, the words coming out scratchy. Y/N turned around and looked at Hange. They stood up, getting a glass of water and handing it to him.

“When did you become a titan?” She continued.

“When I was 12 years old.” This made Y/N freeze, her breath caught and she looked at him, heart beating quickly. She quickly cleared her throat and continued.

As she asked each question, she became more and more confused as Reiner explained his situation. She started crying when she learned about the children being manipulated into giving their lives, their futures to a cause they never chose, Reiner needing to be reminded that he had to stay sitting.

She moved her chair closer when Reiner spoke about his mother and father and his reasoning for joining the military. Scooted even closer when he recalled his father’s reaction when he first spoke to him. She held his hand when he spoke of Bertoldt and Annie and what happened to Marcel, but soon dropped it after he talked about breaking the wall.

“You were a kid,” she whispered. “You were a scared kid who didn’t have any options.” She was looking at the ground, eyes moving back and forth, unable to believe what she was hearing. “Reiner…” She looked up at him and tears were filling his eyes.

“I wish I could take it all back,” he spoke so softly. In spite of everyone protesting, Levi being the first to say something, Y/N stood up, grabbing Reiner and pulled him into a hug. He leaned his head on her shoulder and cried, squeezing fistfuls of her jacket as he hugged her. They stayed like this for a couple minutes until Y/N sat him back down on the bed and she sat next to him, arm over his shoulder.

There were a couple final questions that they went over. The biggest worry being that Marley would attack looking for Reiner and that they still wanted Eren. Pixis, Hange, Miche, and Levi all stood up.

“That’s enough for now,” Pixis spoke. “We will have another short round of questions in a couple of hours.” Y/N put her hand on Reiner’s leg, squeezing a bit for reassurance and then stood up to leave.

“Y/N…” Reiner paused, making sure she would wait. “If I had told you before, would that have made a difference?” She turned around, looking at him.

“Honestly,” She started, “… I really don’t know.” Then walked out the cell.

…..

Y/N laid in bed wondering if Levi was actually going to show up. She regretted making plans to be with him tonight. Not that she didn’t want him to be here with her, but she couldn’t get her mind off of Reiner’s story. He was a child, just a small kid who didn’t know what he was doing. He thought he was doing his best. Taking care of his friends and trying to help his people.

The door to her room opened up and Levi walked in, closing the door behind him. Y/N propped herself up on her elbows and watched him as he approached the bed.

“You’re not sleeping?” He asked, getting in bed with her. She laid back down, turning her body around so she was facing him.

“I was waiting for you.” She pulled the covers up to her chin and he rested his hand on her waist.

“Sorry, things got busy.” He pulled himself closer to her.

“What things?” She asked. “No one told me anything was happening.”

“It’s nothing.” He pressed his lips together, almost smiling. “It’s just some last few questions.”

“Nothing?” She sat up. “Like your knuckles were nothing?” Levi looked at his hand and took a deep breath. Y/N continued staring at him. “I don’t like being used.”

“That’s not—”

“Isn’t it? She was starting to get angry. “Use me to get to Reiner, but keep me entirely out of the loop. Then after he gives us all the information we need, we just dump him?”

“Dump him?” Levi asked surprised. “What are you thinking is going to happen? We’re just going to let him go live his fucking life? Walk free just because he gave us some information?”

“He only has a couple years left,” she whispered then started crying. Levi took another deep breath.

“I know you’re worried about him.” He started. “But… do you really think that anyone will just let him go free?”

“It’s not like I think he should go free, but…” She took a deep breath. “Maybe a second chance? I don’t know… I know he did a lot of bad things. I know. They were unforgivable things and I will never forgive him for what he did to my family, to Erwin and to everyone else… But it doesn’t seem like he did them because he wanted to do them. Can we really punish the person who was forced to do it?”

She looked over at him. Since Reiner got back, Levi had a lot of things running through his mind. Things related to the safety of the scouts, the safety of the people, the safety of everyone’s lives within the walls, but the more he spoke with Y/N, the more he continued wondering about their relationship.

“Are… Are you still in love with him?” Levi swallowed hard, not sure if he actually wanted to hear the answer.

“No... Maybe.” She wiped her cheeks. “I don’t know. I think so. He just left so fast, I guess I never got the time to really get over him… I don’t know. I don’t think I can forgive him. Everything he did. And he lied to me.” She looked at Levi. “I’m stupid. I’m being stupid, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re not.” He reached and put his hand on her cheek. “This thing you do, where you care about pieces of shit, it’s one of the reasons I love you… and I think it’s a big reason you love me.” She laughed quietly. “Why don’t we just go to sleep?”

She nodded and laid back down, cuddling into Levi’s chest. She didn’t know what her feelings were for Reiner right now, but she definitely needed to talk to him more. She didn’t know how, but she just knew that she needed to see him.

Taglist: @levisbebe @nefelimalfoy @lainessia

#Not Without Trying #Attack on Titan x reader #AOT x reader #Shinjeki no kyojin x reader #SNK x reader #Levi x reader #Reiner x reader #AOT angst #SNK angst #Levi x reader angst #Reiner x reader angst #tw: torture #AOT Levi x reader #AOT Reiner x reader #Reiner braun x reader #Levi Ackerman x reader #Levi angst #AOT Levi angst #SNK Levi angst

117 notes · View notes

letsunity · 3 years ago

Text

Not Afraid - Chapter 4

Summery -

The Bad Batch go to Tatooine to resupply and avoid the Empire. As per the usual, Omega gets separated from the group. Fortunately for her, Krayt's Claw just so happens to be nearby. Bossk and Embo guide her to Boba Fett, who takes interest in why the Kaminoans want her. It's a reluctant partnership, with the Bad Batch having to rely on Krayt's Claw to navigate non-military life.

With some wandering around, Bossk managed to get them a job.

It wasn't anything big, but the pay was good enough - They could get rations, fuel, the essentials.

According to the client, someone is stealing from local farmers. All they have to do is catch them, get their reward and move on. With Hunter's tracking, it shouldn't be a difficult task to complete. They were only dealing with a thief, so Omega would be fine to tag along, which she was happy about.

Seeing how excited she was to join was sweet.

"Don't expect anything, laddies and lady. It goes to plan if you don't have one!" Bossk hissed, cocking his blaster with a grin.

"That doesn't make any sense," Echo countered, pulling a face at the reptile.

"Because you're thinking like a soldier," Bossk smirked, flicking Echo's head. "Plans seldom work. All you need is explosives, knowing what you're doing and instinct. Trust yourself, your abilities, and retreat to bring back more explosives."

"Sounds great!" Wrecker agreed, itching to blow something up. "You guys can get the col illegal stuff, right? We can make things go boom?" The reptile snorted, equally happy about explosions.

With them so happy, Hunter was curious about something. Why didn't they rent speeders to this location; why walk?

The only reason would be that Boba wanted them to see something.

"You wanna see something cool?" Boba asked Omega, having a confident smirk on his face.

He whistled loudly, changing the tune with a harsh rhythm like he was imitating a call. Bossk already knew, rolling his reptilian eyes at his nephew. He knew that it was to give the squirt something special, but still, he was showing off.

Omega waited, uncertain of why he made that noise. While waiting, she saw a wolf-like creature climb atop a hill. Several others appeared, though far darker than the main one. The white one slowly stalked towards them, sniffing warily.

Boba knelt, lightly guiding her hand out and upwards. There was tingling at her fingertips like there was an electrical charge coursing through her. The titanic canid stepped to her, their wet black nose brushing against her palm. In that brief touch, there was the spark of connection.

She could feel it, and it could feel her. It lowered its head into her hand, making eye contact through the helmet.

The wolf grunted towards Wrecker, Echo and Hunter, shaking their head. It grumbled, making several sounds towards them as the other wolves began to run away. With a stamp of its reptile-like paw, it barked and ran off, leaving them confused.

"The centre returned makes seven; burnt comes and makes it six. Anguished are the five, particularly the four. Soon to be three, suddenly two. One shines through, seven again," Bossk translated, thinking over the cryptic warning.

"That's incredibly ominous," Hunter stated, unsure of what to make of that.

"You always get stuff like that from them. It's part of their cryptic 'future sight' or whatever they call it," Boba shrugged, not overly bothered. "Other than the ominous warnings, they're cool to meet. Get them some Wookie meat, and they love you; they're obsessed with it."

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

This new Empire seemed interesting. It didn't affect the Bounty Hunter's Guild, but it could prove profitable.

"Cad Bane. Am I right?" asked some stiff-upper-lip rookie.

Bane didn't care about them, not bothering to remember their name. Admiral Ram-whatever, it wasn't important.

"I prefer meeting on planets without incontinent clouds, Admiral. I don't like rain," Bane hissed, his distorted voice shivering the blank human. Humans had a habit of looking similar to one another. "My price is doubled for that alone."

"I understand, Mister Bane. I can assure you that you'll be incredibly well paid for," said Admiral Rampart, sitting across from the Duros. "There is a bounty on a child named Omega."

"Don't bother. That little brat Boba's probably already involved. At least with his father, you could make a deal, but the boy is annoyingly stubborn."

The kid wasn't popular because of that and was a pain in Bane's ass. His commitment to his rules was somewhat admirable, but it wasn't practical. Even with his little club, the jobs he'll get won't do him much good. He's not going to amount to much in the future.

"You misunderstand, Mister Bane. The Kaminoans want to capture her, and I suspect it's to encourage Tarkin to keep the cloning program. I want you to stop it."

"As I said, it's not worth the time. It doesn't matter where I go; the brat will follow. I'd lead him straight to you, meaning I lose credits."

"I don't want you to capture her, Mister Bane. I want you to kill her."

"Now, that's far simpler. That's triple my pay, but if you'd like, I'll bring you the skin like a rug."

"No, I only need her eliminated. The cloning program must end. To assist you, I'll have my best team to work alongside you. CT-9904 will follow your orders without question, and the other three will follow his example. If this 'Boba' gets in the way, kill him."

"Bounty hunter's aren't allowed to kill each other. I can certainly maim him, though. Give me some credits upfront, some immunity, and I'll bring you her head on a platter."

This was going to be easy.

With the weird female clone out of the picture, project War Mantle will be ahead of schedule. The Empire can grow and prosper without the expensive republican remnants. Unfortunately for this Bane fellow, he couldn't be in the picture afterwards. When the girl was dead, 9904 will kill the hunter as well.

Nobody will know that she existed or mattered. Even with this 'Boba' character, he doubted that things would go wrong. It's only a matter of time.

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

Meeting the wolves were amazing; the white one was soft and warm.

Omega liked the feeling of the grass against her hands, picking a few to inspect them.

While fascinated by the blades of green, she failed to see a nearby Loth-cat. It hissed and lunged at her, its fur raised and bristled.

Instinctively, Hunter aimed his blaster at the animal. It growled, the creature deceptively savage. Boba got on one knee and took some dried meat from his pocket, encouraging the animal to approach.

It hesitantly stepped forward, its pupils widening. It licked his hand then took the meat, backing away from whence it came. It climbed down a hole, poking its head back up again some moments later. Three minuscule heads popped up, chirping at the newcomers. It's only a mother protecting her kits.

Wrecker got down, wanting to have a go as well. Boba handed him some meat, motioning for it to come again. This time, one of the kits investigated, sniffing the food. The mother joined, then the other two kittens.

The family of feral animals chewed the meat, unusually passive and docile.

Omega lightly stroked one of the kittens, amazed by the feeling of their fur. Wrecker grinned, his gloved hand licked by the other two kits.

"Can we keep 'em?" Wrecker begged, looking at Hunter with puppy eyes.

"This is their home," Hunter answered, letting him down easy. "This is where they want to be, so this is where they'll stay."

First, it was reading their emotions, and now communicating with animals. It stank of force-sensitivity, even though he doubted it.

They skipped back into their hole, chirping at them as they passed. Omega waved goodbye, excited to see even more animals.

"How do you do that?" She asked, eager to learn it herself.

"Instinct. Mandalorians are raised from birth to trust themselves, to trust what their gut tells them. It told me that she was only protecting her babies, nothing malicious. You'll learn someday."

"I want to meet all kinds of creatures!"

"There's no limit to what you'll see in this galaxy, Megs," Bossk assured, ruffling the helmet she wore. "So long as Dad Batch are right next to ya."

"We're not the Dad Batch," Echo corrected, although he didn't sound so certain.

"Dad Batch or Bro Batch, either's good with me!" Wrecker smiled, slapping Bossk's shoulder. "We need a fight!" The Trandoshan snarled in agreement, eager to bruise the clone.

They were only a few minutes away from the farm, and in three hours, dusk would begin to set. The more Hunter hung with these odd pair, the more they grew on him. They were capable of skinning folk alive but having that protecting Omega was alright.

Boba was showing Omega a lot of things, even giving her his helmet. He was only three or four years older than her; he had a lot to teach. He was good with kids, too, something Hunter was still learning.

Then there was Bossk's nickname, Dad Batch. Hunter was mimicking what Cut did, so was he being a father to Omega? He never thought of being a parent before, but the past two weeks were unexpected. Maybe he could be a dad to her, be someone to look after her as she deserved.

Not only would Hunter learn a lot about being a mercenary, but interacting with children, too.

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

Saw looked over the bodies, the stench of burnt flesh searing his nostrils. His face scrunched in rage, practically seizing with pure rage.

"I'm sorry, sir, but none survived," Lorc sighed, shaking his head. "They were all wiped out. Not just that, but the dead trooper's wounds are the same as our departed. Friendly fire, presumably."

"Which damned clone was it?"

"That's the issue. It wasn't a clone; it was a random guy in clone armour," Edrio continued, confusing the man. "We've estimated five to have been shot by precise skills matching a clone. The rest were random people. The damage indicates a distance, probably a sniper."

"I know who did it," Saw spat, looking away from the burned bodies. "And we're going to make him pay for it. I want the Bad Batch; I want the one that killed these people as though they were swine. We'll make him suffer for this."

"He and the empire, sir," Mari agreed, charging her rifle.

Saw would destroy this empire, even if it killed him.

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

The farmer was both overjoyed and miserable.

The thief stole food and much of his equipment, most of which she can't replace due to financial struggles. Bossk terrified his Tooka cat, and Wrecker kept bumping his head on the ceiling. Being the second smallest, Boba wasn't concerned with the Toydarian's accommodations.

"Every night, the loth-rat takes more and more. I've set up traps, boobytraps, I even bought a droid, but they stole all of it!" She cried, hovering in distress. "I need them gone. I don't care what you do with them, so long as they leave us be."

"How're you going to pay?" Bossk asked, getting an elbow to the side from Echo. "If you want to afford rations, this is how."

"The local farmers have pitched in. The most we can do is fifteen thousand credits," she sighed, slowly drifting onto a chair. "Our crops haven't done well this year. That war has stripped the galaxy of life; even the planets are too exhausted from it."

"We'll take half," Boba decided, much to Bossk's annoyance. "Lothal's yaim par pirates bal smugglers. Vi ne'waadas eyn sur'haai olar," he added in a strange language, getting a grunt in response.

From the sounds of it, that was Mando'a, the tongue of Mandalorians. Hunter wasn't the best at languages; Tech was more specialised for that.

"By the light of Lothal's moons, you're a blessing to this valley," she whimpered, wiping her eyes. "We wish you luck on this bounty, Fetts."

Plural?

"I'm his uncle," Bossk explained to the confused four, patting Boba's shoulder and glancing at the Toydarian. "We'll make sure that they won't come again."

And so, the quest is on. Find the thief, get paid and get the hell off of Lothal. Omega was happy to be tagging along, asking about boobytraps and the sort. Wrecker picked her up, concerned that she was getting tired from the walking.

Echo would rather have stayed with Highslinger, but walking alone at night wasn't a good idea. Bossk took notice of his hesitancy, snorting for the clone's attention.

"I'm assuming it's all Techno Union?" Echo nodded at the question, the lack of feeling in his 'legs' creeping through his spine. What was left of 'his' spine. "We know a gal who can help with that. She fixes Dengar and Highslinger up after jobs. A friend of Omega's is a friend of ours."

"I'll have to take you up on that. I'd be happier to leave this all back on Skako Minor."

"We can blow it up if that'll ease the anguish."

"Did I hear blow up?" Wrecker interrupted, practically shaking from excitement. "What's going boom?"

"Nothing for now," Echo sighed, shaking his head. "You're going to drop Omega."

"I'm fine!" She assured, gripping onto Wrecker's armour. "Your eyes are pretty."

"Thank you," Bossk said, making a mixture of a chirp and purr in response. "You're a lovely young lady yourself. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, Lil Mega."

Ever since meeting Hunter, things just got better for Omega. She had Clone Force 99 and now Krayt's Claw, an odd but loving family of misfits. They made her feel special, more than just a mere assistant or failed experiment. Bossk talked to her like she was an equal, as did the others.

Being around them only added to the coldness of Kamino. They didn't show nearly the compassion Bossk did, and he'd only known her two days or so. Hunter, Echo, Wrecker and Tech were more family than the Kaminoans ever were, and she wanted it to stay that way.

Even though Crosshair was under the chip, she wanted to get to know him. The lads missed him, and she wanted to know who he really was. Not what the chip made him into or was making him do.

With Boba and his gang, it should be a whole lot easier to help him.

Far away, sitting atop a pile of stones, Fennec lowered her rifle.

#the bad batch #Krayt's Claw #Not Afraid fic #fanfic #star wars #bossk #bossk and boba fett #clone force 99 #mando'a #omega

22 notes · View notes

littleredlie · 4 years ago

Text

Lieutenant - Part One: 1943

Series Masterlist | Master Masterlist

Marvel x black!OC, Bucky Barnes x black!OC Jackie wakes up to an empty bed and an unexpected visitor at her door. A visitor from not so long ago in her past. Is this the start of Jackie’s new adventure. Based off of Captain America: The First Avenger

3.7k+ Words

Featuring: Jackie Johnson, Bucky Barnes, David Wilson, Andre Wilson, Steve Rogers (mentioned) Warning: Maybe bad writing, no clue. Cursing. Mentions of cheating. Domestic abuse A/N: Finally! I have finally brought you Lieutenant, after promising for a long ass time. I got stuck somewhere. Let me know how you like it! Part two will be updated shortly after.

__________________________________

The nap Jacqueline had taken was for compensation for staying up late last night and waking up early that morning. The afternoon sun reminded her that she wasted a few hours away, but at that moment she didn’t care because Jackelin woke up to an empty bed, yet again. When she realizes the situation, she rolls onto her back, a soft sigh escaping her mouth. She knew where he was.

He was with her.

David would deny it, of course. But she saw them together a few months ago, back when she was still pregnant with their son. She saw the way he caressed her, held her hand, smiled at her… kissed her. It tore her apart, but she did not necessarily want to go back and live with her mother as she was already dealing with much. And although David hadn’t been the ideal husband, in more ways than one, Jackie loved him.

Before she could delve deeper into her husband’s affair, as if on cue, soft whimpers erupted from the bassinet on the other side of the room. Slowly rising from the bed, Jackie sees the white bassinet, her baby’s hand peeking over the edge. She makes her way over and looks down at Andre, his eyes are open and the pacifier is laid abandoned next to his head.

“Hi baby,” Jackie brings him up and places a soft kiss on his cheek. She was absolutely in love with the small bundle in her arms. When he was born she couldn’t take her eyes off of him and she had also hoped that his birth would bring her and David closer. When it didn’t Jackie just focused her attention on Andre, letting David distance himself from the family. She didn’t understand why he would do that though, he was shipping out overseas in a few days, fighting in a war started by people who did not care about people like them. People with melanin on their skin, big lips, and curly hair.

Andre’s skin was still light, but she knew that soon he’d get darker. Maybe dark enough as his father. It worried Jackie; because at first she didn’t want kids, not when black boys and girls had a target on their back. But when they first got pregnant and her belly began to show, she was amazed and prepared to be the best mother she could be even when her military nursing career had just begun to take off.

With Andre in her arms, she walks out of the bedroom, rubbing his back slightly and a small sway in her step. He wasn’t a fussy baby and he preferred his mother’s touch to his father’s, but that could be because David was out almost every day of the week. She gave him a kid, she loved him, why was he doing this to her? All that mattered to Jackie, however, was the promise she had given Andre. To always be there for him, to never abandon him. With her career in the military and the war going on overseas, it made her promise seem easy to break, but she wasn’t going to let that happen.

She promised.

There’s a crib in the kitchen that Jackie puts her three month old baby in, his eyes are focused on the mobile behind her head and a small smile shows on his face. The view alone almost brings her to her knees and tears cloud her eyes. She’d only felt this type of helplessness once before, when she fell in love for the first time.

A knock at her front door pulls her out the soft trance Andre took her in. She covers him with the blanket, pats his belly, and retreats to the door. She doesn’t bother peeking out to find out who it could be, but she just pulls her door open. Her breath is pulled out of her when she finally notices who it is.

“James?”

“We’ve known each other for years, Jackie. Call me Bucky.”

There’s a smile on his face as he looks at her, she shivers at his look. Jackie hesitates, marveled at how handsome he looked and stunned at how a white man was standing on her porch that sat in the middle of Bedford-Stuyvesant. Nothing would happen to him, of course, but what would happen to her if the gossip started.

“Um, come in,” she mumbles, stepping to the side. He does so, and before closing the door behind them, Jackie peers outside, noticing minimal traffic. Still someone could’ve seen. She closes the door, her hand on the knob momentarily, before she slowly turns to look at the brunette clad in a military uniform. “What are you doing here James?” She slightly distances herself, her back against the door and her hands folded in front of her. She avoids eye contact with him and he keeps looking at her, silently begging that she would look him in the eye.

Bucky and Jackie had met when they were children. It was an accident, as Jackie had ended up lost and on the wrong side of Brooklynn. She actually ran into Steve first, and the small child offered to walk her home. But those two were underdogs, a beacon for trouble. Steve, a frail and sickly child, and Jackie, a black girl in a white neighborhood. Jackie tried turning Steve down, but he wouldn’t let her walk by herself, she didn’t understand why he didn’t treat her like other whites did. They made it a block and a half before somebody decided to bother them. Steve being Steve, he tried to fight them off and that ended being horrible, but before they could harm Steve more or even lay a hand on Jackie, Bucky came to the rescue. He scared off the bullies, helped Steve get home, and walked Jackie from the white neighbourhood.

Jackie thought she’d never see either boys again, but that didn’t happen. A relationship that was unheard of blossomed from there, the three kids weren’t stupid though, they kept it a secret. Passing notes and sweets in the alleyways, playing in the secluded parts of the park, rendezvousing at a hideout that sat inside an abandoned house after everyone in their households went to bed. As they got older it was harder to meet, but they still tried. When they hit 18, the boys went to college and Jackie began studying at a hospital training school. Jackelin grew even more distant from the boys when she left in 1941 to become a nurse for the Army Corps, a once in a lifetime achievement for a woman of her color.

She’d been in North Carolina serving when she met David. The two had gotten married a few months after meeting and soon after she was pregnant. Jackie had decided to come back home and stay for the duration of the pregnancy so that her mother could help during and after. She knew that eventually she had to go back to duty, it was sooner rather than later and she was dreading it. After spending countless days with her son, she didn’t want to go; but her mother was going to gain custody until she could come back. So she was going to leave New York again, and although she had been here for almost a year, she hasn’t been able to see Bucky and Steve. Or she purposefully avoided the two. They were older now and it was a lot easier for them to fit society’s standards in order to keep herself out of trouble.

“I heard you were back,” he answers, stepping a little closer. “ Got yourself married.” At that she finally looks at him and he looks like he wants some sort of explanation from her. The look makes her ashamed for some reason, but she shrugs it off.

“Yeah, I am leaving soon though. Just here to have my babe.” Her arms cross against her chest and she shrugs, still avoiding his eyes. It’s silent as he looks at her in astonishment as he hadn’t heard about the baby, she’s looking at everything but him. “Do you wanna see him?” She whispers, bringing her eyes back up to him and actually keeping them on him.

“Sure,” he grins, following her footsteps as she makes her way back to the kitchen.

The two of them are soon looking over the babbling baby, Andre’s eyes focused on the white man in front of him, almost looking like he was studying him. “Why didn’t you come and see us?” Bucky asks and Jackie scoffs out a laugh.

“That’s unfair, James, you know I can’t do that. You, Steve, and I cannot go around acting as if the world is alright, you know I’d be suffering the consequences more than you would.” Jackie traces her eyes over the delicate features of his face, sad about the truth, but also accepting. Now that they were older and fully blossoming into society, they couldn’t act like children. Appearances mattered for men like Bucky and safety mattered to Jackie, and by default Steve would go with Bucky as well. That’s the only way the world would let it work. “I’m sorry,” Jackie whispers the apology, her hand softly patting the top of Andre’s head.

“It’s okay,” James replies, pulling away from the crib and leaning his body against the kitchen counter. “I just wanted to check on you, make sure you were alright.”

“Yeah, I am doing alright. I’m expecting my orders soon, probably’ll be sent back down to North Caroline, treating POWs. How about you?”

“Shipping out as well,” he nods. “Two days.”

Silence again, the sound of vehicles rumbling outside and of Andre’s soft coos. Until she remembers, “how’s Stevie!?” The nickname brings a chuckle to Bucky which then brings an immediate smile to Jackie’s. She always loved his laugh.

“He’s okay, a little bummed he can’t join. But you know Steve, he’s not gonna stop trying.” Bucky’s hands are in his pockets as he shrugs his shoulders. Jackie is now leaning on the kitchen counter as well, an arm length existing between her and Bucky’s body.

“True, I worry for him just a little bit. Maybe before I leave I will try to stop by before I go back to North Carolina.” At that a sigh of relief is released from the soldier’s lips and he runs a hand through his hair, his face beaming. The space between them was getting smaller, neither of them were sure if they were necessarily responsible.

“He does miss you.” Bucky missed her too, but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Their relationship was always complicated, especially when they became teenagers. But now, as they were young adults, the air around them was almost suffocating. They couldn’t act around each other like they used to.

“It’s not that I don’t miss you,” she looks up to Bucky, they are so close that they’re basically breathing into each other. “It’s just that –” Jackie is interrupted by her baby’s cries. Quickly abandoning her space beside Bucky, she scoops Andre in her arms, hurriedly trying to hush him.

Bucky looks down at the empty space Jackie left behind, breathing out and then looking up to see her softly singing to her son. Jackie looked so delicate, especially with the sunlight peering through the blinds of the windows. She looked a little sad and a lot tired, if only they were as close as they used to be then he would ask her. But he saw the way she was surprised at finding him at her doorstep and how she placed so much distance between them.

“Maybe, I should go.” Bucky speaks up, getting ready to make his way out the door. Jackie didn’t know what to say, she wanted Bucky to stay but she also wanted to take care of her baby.

“How about you sit down in the living room? He’s probably just hungry.” Jackie leads him to the living room and urges him to sit down, which he does. When she sees he’s settled she remarks a quick ‘be right back,’ and turns to take Andre back to her room to feed him. His cries continue, still audible as Jackelin walks further down into the house.

Bucky isn’t sitting in the room for more than ten minutes before the front door opens again. He abruptly stands up, understanding that a white man in a black man’s home wasn’t necessarily the norm. The man who steps through the door doesn’t notice Bucky at first, but when he does he stiffens. He faces the door to close it, trying to gain some resolve before turning around and putting a tense grin on his face.

“Sir, what can I do for you?” David says, his back straight and his arms balled at his side.

“I’m here to see –” Before he could finish his sentence Jackie walks back down the hallway, unaware that her husband had returned instead her focus was on the spit up stain Andre left on her dress.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, James.” She’s finally in the room and when her eyes land on her brooding husband’s figure, the smile slowly disintegrates off of her face. “David.” She huffs out, like she’s scared. David was intimidating and he lost his temper a lot, and sometimes Jackelin would become collateral damage.

“Honey,” he says with an apprehensive tone behind it. “I didn’t know we were having a guest over.” He turns to his wife, ignoring Bucky. The look on his face was alarming and Jackie felt like she couldn’t breathe. She opens her mouth to try to come up with some explanation as she hadn’t exactly told her husband about the relationship she had with two white boys from the other side of Brooklyn. Her eyes flicker between the two men from the same role but from different aspects in her life. Bucky sees the panic rising in his friend’s eyes and he comes to the rescue, a smile coming up to his face.

“Actually, sir, I stopped by unannounced.” Bucky holds his hand out and David reluctantly shakes it. “I am a colleague of your wife’s, we met at Fort Bragg,” the lie rolls off of his tongue as he looks David in the eye. Jackie’s heart still hasn’t calmed down and the room still felt suffocating. “She was an excellent nurse, worked almost as well as a doctor,” David’s eyes flitted over to his wife and she tried to put a calm smile on her face but she was sure it was tense, it didn’t help that Bucky’s eyes were also on her.. As her husband turns back to James, the latter sends a quick wink to the nurse and Jackie’s sure that she’s going to faint. He used to always do that when they were younger and it pleased him to see that he still had that effect on her. “I stopped by because I heard you two had a baby and I wanted to offer my congratulations.”

“Well thank you so much.”

“I insisted that I stay and meet you as well.” David tries to not gawk at the white soldier in front of him, but Jackie can see that he was surprised. This was unusual as hell, but Bucky was offering some sort of out for Jackie. “I’m Sergeant James Barnes of the 107th Infantry Regiment.”

“Nice to meet you, sergeant. I’m Private 1st Class David Wilson, 332nd Fighter Group, shipping out in a few days.”

“I understand, I am shipping out soon.” He pauses and takes another look at Jackie, who seems to have calmed down now. “How about you and Jackie join an old friend of mine to the Stark Expo that’s happening tomorrow night?”

“Ja–” Jackie starts but stops herself, remembering the situation she was in. “Sergeant Barnes, we don’t want to impose.” She pleads with her eyes for him to drop the invitation, but he doesn’t listen.

“I insist, it’ll be like a farewell to your husband,” ‘and to me’ ghosted at the end of the sentence while he looked at her. Jackie did owe it to him, she left New York abruptly and didn’t talk to him, or Steve, when she got back. The bond that they had built over the years did not deserve to be treated the way Jackie was.

“It’s up to you David,” Jackie pulls her eyes away from James to David, and the second man looks to be pensively thinking.

“Of course, we couldn’t deny such a gracious invitation.” His words did not match his face, he did not want to go, but he didn’t want to oppose the higher ranking white man that stood in the middle of his living room in 1940s New York.

“That’s great,” he smiles, shaking David’s hand again. He discloses the location of the expo before taking a few steps to the door. “I believe I should be on my way, my mother’s trying to hog all my time before I leave.” He chuckles a bit, but David is stiff and Jackie hides the soft smile on her face.

“Of course, Jackie will show you out.” He nods to the sergeant before walking down the hallway towards the bedroom. Silence follows momentarily, but Jackie’s movements bring a soft sound to resonate in Bucky’s ears.

“Let me let you out, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Of course Lieutenant Johnson.” The tone of endearment makes the black woman’s heart jump and she actually smiles at him. He follows her out to the porch, placing his cap onto his head, and they stand there for a moment, a mere moment of coexistence and nostalgia.

“That was risky, James.” Her hands are folded in front of her again and she stands next to him, their shoulders touching slightly. “But thank you.”

“Not a problem.” His feet move forward and step down two steps before he turns back. The brunette looks at Jackie’s stern face, she’s not as hectic as she was before, but the walls have slowly begun to build back up. It’s like she knew what was going to happen when she stepped back into that house. “Steve will be excited to see that you’re back. Even if it’s a short time.”

“It’ll be a proper goodbye for us.” Jackie softly says looking at him, a little sadness with peace. It had to be this way.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Jackie.” Bucky says it like a secret pact made between them, as if they are the only ones to be attending tomorrow evening.

If only.

The brunette proceeds to walk down the steps and Jackie watches him as he retreats. She stays on the stoop until he has turned the corner. Maybe she was stalling for time before stepping back into her home to face her husband or she was relishing her and Bucky’s last private moment together. Jackie slowly retreats back into her home to find her husband sitting in the spot Bucky inhabited minutes before.

Jackie ignores him, not wanting to provoke him or argue. But it’s unavoidable, especially since David noticed the obvious chemistry between his wife and the stranger.

“Didn’t know we were letting white men into our lives so freely.” He says, his body leaned forward with his forearms on his knees and his hands meddling with each other.

“He was a fellow soldier, and he was one of the nicer ones. I didn’t know he was stopping by.” She kneels in front of him. David looks at her for a moment, before ripping his hands out from her grasp. Jackie’s shocked at the action, but keeps a calm look on her face and puts her own hands in her lap.

“What would’ve happened if I hadn’t arrived?” David asks, causing an insulted look to arise on her face. She scoffs, an anger arising in her.

“Just because you want to back out on our vows and fuck anything with two legs, does not mean I will too.” The words tumble out of her mouth before she can even stop herself and the minute she’s finished, she holds her breath. Jackie can see David’s refrain dissolving and before she can defend herself, her husband’s hand is raised and a second later, a sharp sting resonates on her face. Her body lands on the floor and she cradles her cheek, tears building up in her eyes.

David says nothing, he just gets up and walks out of the house leaving his wife on the floor. Jackie has tears dripping down from the corners of her eyes as her warm cheek throbs. David’s never hit her like this before, usually there was never any evidence left behind. Jackie lays on the floor a little bit longer. The sound of reality outside continues as she silently sobs to herself. She doesn’t rise out of her retreat until she hears Andre’s soft cries coming from the room. She wipes the tears off her face, her touch getting gentle when she reaches where David’s hand had landed.

When she gets to her room she hides how she feels before confronting her baby. It wasn’t like he knew what had happened, but it was another one of her promises. She’d never show a weak side to her son because she had to be there for him; he came first. Always.

❦

The rest of the day goes on. Jackie is able to finish the list of errands she made for herself when she first woke up that morning. Andre has fallen asleep, easier than any other night. It was like he knew that his mother needed a break. It’s late when David returns. Jackie can smell the faint and bitter hint of alcohol accompanied by the sweet and soft presence of the flowers in his hand. He smiles at his wife, apologies stuck in his throat but evident in his eyes.

And she forgives him.

She takes the flowers, he gives her a kiss, and they lay beside each other in bed. No other words pass between them and Jackie wants to say something, because she knows that in the morning he probably won’t be there again. He’ll be with her.

_____________________________

Part Two: 1943

5 notes · View notes

chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 22

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007

She stands at the kitchen sink, watching through the window as they sit side by side at the patio table. Millie already in her pajamas, hair still damp from a bath, Tyler in a pair of weathered old sweatpants and tattered t-shirt. Their resemblance striking; same color and texture of hair, same ears and profile, even the same shaped lips and those brilliant blue eyes framed by impossibly long and dark lashes. She’s her father’s child; even more so than the boys; sharing not only physical appearance, but facial expressions and body language. Even now their faces mirror each other: eyes narrowed, and brows pinched together, mouth set in a thin, stern line. A staring contest and a battle of wills that’s lasted for more than a minute with no sign of either weakening or wavering. Millie strict and demanding over how she wants things done when it comes to her birthday invitations, her father wondering just how the hell he’d managed to get himself into such a mess in the first place. They're both ferociously stubborn; Millie even more so. And she always wins; no one is immune to that mop of hair and those eyes and that little voice.

Her father is especially weak when it comes to her. An almost six-year-old able to bring a man that size, and who possesses so much strength and power, to his knees. She’s his number one weakness; always balking at scolding her even when she deserves it, succumbing to all the begging and pleading for ‘one more’ bedtime story even though it always turns into five, finding it incredibly hard to say no and very rarely doing so. While his bond with all the kids is strong, the one with Millie is even more so. Perhaps because she’s the first after Austin’s death; a rainbow baby of sorts. Or maybe because she represents the start of his new life; his second chance. A man that had so little to live for suddenly being given everything to live for. She had been conceived in the most unconventional of place during the most unconventional of times. A little blue-eyed miracle that reminds him every day of just how lucky he is to be on this side of the ground.

“Daddy....I am telling you...” Millie finally speaks, her facial expression never changing and her eyes never wavering from his. “...you HAVE to use the glitter.”

“But I don’t want to use it. That shit gets everywhere. You do it the way you want. Then your mom can bitch at you for getting it all over the place.”

“She’ll bitch at you for letting me use glitter without supervision.”

“I am sitting right here. I am supervising.”

“But you gotta use it too,” she insists. “Or the cards won’t match.”

“They don’t have to, Martha Stewart. Relax.”

“Yes. They do have to match. Why are you being so difficult?”

“Amelia...”

She giggles. “Daddy...”

“You’re not the boss.”

“Neither are you. You just think you are. Mommy’s the boss. Your boss.”

Tyler frowns. “Is that what she said?”

“She doesn’t need to say it. It’s just the way it is. And mommy would tell you to use the glitter too.”

“You and I both know that’s bullshit. She’d never say that. She hates glitter.”

“She hates play-doh and slime,” Millie argues.

“And glitter.”

“She never said that!”

“Excuse me? Yes, she did. After your brother got mad at you and dumped a whole container of it in your backpack. Remember? When we still lived at the old house?”

“Oh yeah,” Millie scowls, then pulls her top lip between her teeth and then releases it with an audible ‘pop’. “...well I guess that means you should be really, really careful with it then.”

“I guess that means you should get someone else to help. A glitter bitch.”

“Daddy! That’s a bad word! Why do you have to give me such a hard time? Don’t be like all the other boys in the house. Please don’t.”

“How would like another brother?” Tyler counters.

She gives a dramatic gasp. “Why would you do me like that? Isn’t three enough? Why so many boys? Boys are dumb. And annoying. Except you of course.”

Grinning, he lays a hand on the top of her head and presses a noisy kiss to her temple. “You are so lucky you added that last part.”

“Why? What would you do? Nothing. Because you love me too much.”

“You know what?” His voice and face are stern at first, but then a slow grins spreads from ear to ear and he scoops her up and places her in his lap; pressing kisses against her cheeks and rubbing his beard against her skin until she’s giggling and squirming in a half assed attempt to escape; little hands on his cheeks trying to push him away, the squeals becoming even louder when his fingers dig into her stomach and start tickling.

“What?” Millie asks, when the playful assault ends, and she kneels in his lap facing him; hands delicately cradling his face, a look of pure adoration on her face as she regards him. “What daddy?”

“Get back in your seat and hand me the goddamn glitter.”

Esme laughs and then turns away from the window, busying herself with making a tea and a coffee and tidying the kitchen. The house is eerily quiet for only nine at night; both Declan and Addie fast asleep upstairs, Mac curled up under her crib, snoring lightly. Normally the twins are still tearing around. Either tormenting one another or their older sister or burning off the last of their energy in the pool or down on the beach. She misses them; the dirty handprints that she is constantly wiping off every surface, the sand that they track through every inch of the house, those little voices –and even their squabbling- and the way they eventually fall asleep either spread out on the couch with the tops of their heads touching, or on the bottom bunk pressed back to back.

They’re a handful and have been since day one; a pregnancy filled with complications and scares. But they’re a joy. Rambunctious and mischievous. Fearless to a fault. Always willing to try new adventures, as long as they’re together for them.

The sun is beginning to set as she steps out onto the patio, and the strings of solar powered white lights wrapped around the patio railings springing to life, bathing the area in a soft, almost soothing glow. And she places the steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of her husband, then lays a hand on the back of his neck and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Despite the outwardly display of confidence and the rare genuine smile that crosses his face, he’s struggling. The last couple of days have been especially rough; medications not enough to take away that edge and that sense of impending doom she knows he’s feeling. It’s so many things: TJ’s troubles, Millie’s rapidly approaching sixth birthday, the situation with Ovi and the very real possibility of having to get back in the game. But he gives her an appreciative smile and lays a hand on her hip; gently squeezing before allowing his hand to lightly slide over her ass.

“Just what are you guys doing?” she inquires and slips into the chair at the head of the table; a foot on the seat, bottom of her hoodie pulled over her knee.

“I don’t even know anymore,” Tyler admits. “I just do what I’m told.”

“We’re making birthday invitations,” Millie says. “Glittery ones.”

“Yeah...I see that...” Esme frowns, then moves her seat back from the table to avoid any wayward sparkles. “You know that crap is going to be everywhere for weeks, right?”

“Daddy already has it in his hair,” Millie giggles. “And in his beard.”

“Because you thought it would be hilarious to dump glitter in your hands and rub them all over my head,” he complains.

“It was funny!” she exclaims. “You’re going to be sparkly forever now. A sparkly daddy.”

“Like one of those vampires in Twilight,” Esme muses, and he gives her a dirty look. “Just much more handsome.”

“I have vampires,” Millie announces. “Daddy could kick their asses.”

“Damn right,” he agrees.

“Daddy would kick all the monsters’ asses, right daddy? Like you kicked all the bad guys asses. Do you miss kicking bad guys’ asses?”

“You know what I miss? I miss when you didn’t say ass every five seconds.”

“Better than the s word or the f word,” she reasons, and kneels in her chair to reach for plastic container full of pencil crayons sitting in the middle of the table. “Do you? Miss kicking the bad guys’ asses?”

“Nope,” he quickly replies. “I don’t.”

Esme knows it isn’t the entire truth; someone just doesn’t give up a job...a life...like the one he’d been leading and not experience some fall out. It’s fast paced and generous; living life constantly on edge and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Days and sometimes weeks of putting your ass on the line to help a stranger; shedding a lot of blood, sweat, and tears for that pay out in the end. The job is exhilarating; every mercenary will admit to that. That there’s a certain rush that comes with the intensity. And most won’t say it out loud, but there’s a feeling of satisfaction you get when you witness revenge and karma up close; even if it means you’re delivering them yourself with your bare hands.

His entire adult has been that existence. First the military, then the job. And there’s no way he doesn’t miss. It’s quite the change; going from that life to one of routine and domesticity.

“I bet the bad guys don’t miss you,” Millie muses. “They were tired of getting their asses kicked. But who does it now that you don’t? Who goes after the bad people?”

“Other guys,” Tyler responds.

“What other guys?”

“Guys like me. Who do that sort of thing. There’s lots of guys like that out there.”

“And girls too?”

“I guess. I suppose there’s girls out there that do that kind of thing. Mommy did.”

Esme directs a kick to his shin under the table, then shakes her head when he gives her a quizzical look.

“Mommy sort of did that job,” he quickly adds. “She helped guys like me out. She helped track down the bad people and then told guys like me where we could find them.”

“Mmmm...” Millie considers this, head cocked to the side, eyes focused on the drawing she’s creating. “....is that how you met?”

“Yup. When I used to live here before I had you or your sister or your brothers.”

“In this house?”

“Not in THIS house. In my old house. Well it wasn’t really a house. It was more like a shack. But there’s where I met mommy. A long time ago. Auntie Nik brought her there and introduced us.”

“We should go there sometime,” Millie suggests. “To your old place. To see it. Who lives there now?”

“A friend of mine. You met him a few times when you were a baby.”

“I want to go there,” she decides. “To your old place. I want to see where you met mommy. Is that where you helped put me in her tummy?”

“No. That happened somewhere else,” Esme speaks up. “In an entirely different country. In Bangladesh. A place called Dhaka. Daddy and I were working there. That’s where you were made.”

“We should go there too,” Millie concludes.

“Yeah, that’s a no from me,” Tyler says. “That’s not a place I want to go back to.”

“Is that where you almost died?”

Esme watches her husband’s face; mug pressed against her lips as she waits for his reaction. Noticing the small intake of breath and the slow, steady way he releases it. The way his shoulders tense and his leg begins to shake back and forth underneath the table.

“Yeah...” he finally speaks, then turns his attention towards the craft in front of him. His eyes are dark and that vein in his neck...the one that had to be surgically repaired after being blown out by Farhad- begins to pulsate. “...that’s where I almost died.”

“How?” Millie asks.

“You know what,” Esme comes to his aid. “This isn’t a good time to talk about these kinds of things. Not so close to bedtime, okay Millie? It will give you nightmares and as much as we love you, we don’t want you sleeping with us until you’re eighteen.”

“It won’t give me nightmares,” she argues. “I’m fine.”

“Amelia...” Her tone and her face are stern; the warning in her voice noticeable enough that her daughter looks up at her. “Not right now. Thank you.”

Silence falls on the table, no further conversation for several minutes. Nothing but the sound of the waves rolling onto the shore, the slight rustle of the trees, and the soft scrape of pencil crayons against paper. And Tyler reaches under the table to lay a hand on Esme’s thigh, squeezing lightly and giving her a small, grateful smile. There are days when he can talk openly and honestly about what happened in Dhaka. He was able to tell the therapist the whole story without even breaking a nervous sweat. But there’s other times where it’s unbearable; the memories too strong and too painful. The mental wounds still too fresh and feeling still too raw.

“Look at you,” Esme laughs, and the lays a hand on the side of his face and turns his head towards her. “You have glitter everywhere. It’s all in your beard. It looks like you went down on a stripper. I hope you don’t think you’re coming near my bits looking like that.”

He grins. “Oh, I so am.”

“Like hell you are. Last thing I need is being sparkly down there. I don’t know how you’re going to get all that out of there,” she vigorously rubs her palms against her beard, then frowns as she studies the purple and silver flecks left behind on her skin. “It couldn’t at least be a good color that brings out your eyes?”

“Might have to just shave the whole thing off,” he says.

“Like hell you will. We’ve talked about this. Do you want a divorce? Because that’s how you get a divorce.”

“You don’t even know what I look like clean shaven.”

“You’re not Tyler without a beard. Your kids won’t even recognize you. That's how they know you. That’s how I know you.”

“Don’t do it, daddy,” Millie implores. “You’ll look totally different. Like a stranger. I want you to look like daddy.”

“Two against one,” Esme says. “The beard stays.”

“You only look like the beard because when we do...well when I do...you know... you like the way it feels.”

“I’ll give you that. But it’s also because it’s rugged and manly and you look so freaking sexy with it. Even with silver and purple glitter in it. Speaking of glitter....” she stands up and picks up on of the finished creations. “...I take it she mentioned her party and you went along with it.”

“Come on, you knew I wouldn’t say no.”

“I did,” she admits. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to be completely uncomfortable and miserable, either. That’s a lot of people. Here. In your space. I know how much you value your space. So, if you think it’s too much to deal with...”

“I’ll be okay,” he says. “I’ll deal.”

She stares at him pointedly, brows arches.

“I’ll be fine, babe,” he assures her, and reaches out to lay a hand on the small of her back. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.”

“Daddy’s tough,” Millie declares. “Super tough.”

“Yes,” her mother agrees. “The toughest guy I’ve ever known, that’s for sure.”

“Is that why you fell in love with him?” Millie inquires. “Because he’s tough?”

“There’s a lot of reasons why I fell with him,” Esme replies, as she sits back down in her seat and places her feet in her husband’s lap. “I guess being tough was once of them. Because I knew that I’d always be safe, and I’d have nothing to be scared of when he’s around. That he'd always be willing to protect me and be able to physically do it.”

Tyler smiles and gives her a wink, his hand giving her foot a squeeze.

“He also had really cool hair and crazy beautiful eyes,” she continues. “And big arms. Not to mention that face. Pretty damn handsome, I think. He was kind of mean though. When we first met.”

Millie’s eyes widen as she looks towards her father. “You were mean? To mommy?! Did you make her cry?”

“I did not make her cry and I was not mean.”

“Not right away,” Esme says. “But he got really mean and really bossy when we got to Dhaka.”

“Listen, your mom’s not telling you the truth,” Tyler address his little girl. “I got a little mean, yeah. You want to know why? Because even then your mommy didn’t like to listen to a word I say. And I was in charge and she did something I told her not to and she got in trouble and I got mad.”

“I just put him in his place though,” Esme says with a shrug as she sips her tea. “That just made him even more mad and even meaner. Deep down though, I think he liked it. A woman being all assertive and aggressive with him.”

“I’m not afraid to admit that I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

“That was obvious,” Esme grins, and presses her toes into his crotch.

“You think I’m tough, Millie? Your mom’s even tougher than I am. Hands down the toughest woman...person...I’ve ever met. She’s little, but she’s bad ass.”

“Like me!” Millie cheerfully exclaims.

“You’re exactly like her in a lot of ways. You know how tough someone has to be to trick the bad guys into telling her secrets and letting her know where they are? Crazy tough. When you get older, I’ll tell you a story about how she handled things in Ireland against some pretty scary people. She went in there and talked them all by herself. She wasn’t even scared. Not for a second. I was proud of her. Insanely proud.”

“Don’t make me cry,” Esme pleads, and gives him a brilliant smile. “Because my hormones are all over the place since having your daughter and I’m liable to bawl at anything.”

“Mommy’s the most amazing person I’ve ever known,” he continues. “Not a lot of people would do what she did. When she stuck around to help me in Dhaka. No one else was going to do it. I would have died if she hadn’t had been there.”

“But you didn’t,” Esme says. “And that’s all that matters.”

She hates being praised for it; truly believing that she’d done what anyone with a conscience and an ounce of compassion would have done in that situation. Ovi had been too young; there’s no way he should have had to spring into action and shoulder that kind of responsibility. But there’d been no excuse for Nik. There were other team members there; they could have easily kept the situation under control while she held; at least lending a hand to control the bleeding long enough to get him into the chopper and get both Ovi AND him out of there.

And she’ll hold that grudge for the rest of her life; every time the subject of Dhaka comes up or she looks at the scar on her husband’s neck.

****

Ovi arrives just as darkness fully sets in, standing on the bottom step of the patio; cautiously watching them for several minutes, hands shoved in his pockets, nervously rocking back and forth on his heels.

“You don’t have to just stand there, mate,” Tyler speaks up. “You can join us, you know.”

The younger man breathes a sigh of relief as he climbs the steps, giving Esme a small, apologetic smile which she returns with a curt one of her own before looking away. Their talk the night before had left a bitter taste in both of their mouths; she’d been harsh and brutally honest and refuses to make any apologies for it. She doesn’t understand how, despite all of the things he’s seen and heard in Dhaka and the years following it, that he can be so steadfast about diving headfirst into such a dangerous life. She’d laid out the hardest of truths she possibly could; the long-lasting effects on Tyler’s mental and physical health, the demons and the monsters that prey on every day, the trickle-down effects and impacts the entire family. Yet he remains determined. Either too stubborn to face the truth, or too just immature and ignorant.

“Millie, why don’t we go inside and get a bedtime snack,” Esme suggests, when Ovi steps up onto the patio, finishing the last of her tea and pushing her chair away from the table. “You can finish these tomorrow, okay? I think daddy’s had just about as much glitter and coloring he can take.”

“Okay,” she willingly –and surprisingly- agrees. “You’ll still tuck me in right, daddy?”

“You know it. Just come and get me when you’re ready, yeah?”

Nodding, she curls an arm around his neck and sweetly pecks his lips. Then scurries over to Ovi and wraps her arms around his, tightly squeezing.

“I can’t deal with this tonight,” Esme says, when Tyler catches her by the wrist before she can leave, a concerned and almost puzzled look on his face. “I don’t want to deal with it all. You do what you have to do. I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

He nods in understanding, and she leans down to press a soft, quick kiss to his lips before ushering Millie into the house.

“I think she’s still mad,” Ovi comments, as he drops into a chair at the end of the table.

“Really?” Tyler scoffs. “What gave you that impression?”

Standing, he begins tidying up the table, stuffing pencil crayons, glue sticks, and tubes of sparkles into small plastic storage containers. A far cry from when his hands used to inflict pain and even death on others; glitter caked under his nails and stuck to his fingers as opposed to blood and dirt. And it horrifies him how disappointed he feels over the thought; how blood seemed so much better and easy to accept than a child’s craft supplies. It’s not the first time in six months he’s missed what things were like before, and he knows it won’t be the last. That it will always be there; that side of him that had actually enjoyed the job and the payday that came with.

And it fucking disgusts him.

“I understand why she’s upset,” Ovi says.

Tyler regards him, eyebrow arched. “Do you? ‘Cause I don’t think you do.”

“She doesn’t want you getting back into this. Into that job. Into the job. Because if what happened in New Zealand.”

“Do you even understand what went on there? Why I left? Why I called it quits and came home? Because something tells me you don’t.”

“Mental health issues.”

“That’s part of it. I came home because I couldn’t fucking do it anymore. I’d had enough. Of that life and all the bullshit that came with it. Fucking death and blood and gore and everything that came with it. Helping people that don’t give a shit if I’m alive or dead at the end.”

“I gave a shit,” Ovi reminds him.

“You know how long I’d be doing the job? Almost sixteen years. That’s a fucking lifetime for guys like me.”

“Guys like us,” the younger man stresses.

“You’re not there yet. You might not even get there. You might not even get past what I have in store for you. You want to think it’s all a big game and that it’s something you ‘just want to try out’? Well you’re going to see just how fucking fun it is when I get a hold of you. So if you’re having any second thoughts, I’d back out now before it’s too late and I have you curled up in a ball of your own puke and piss.”

Ovi blinks at the harshness in his voice.

“You wonder why she’s upset? Why she’s pissed off with you? With the whole fucking world right now? Do you know how many promises I’ve made to her that I’ve broken? So many that she doesn’t even believe me when I make promises anymore. That’s fucking sad. It’s pathetic. And here I am, breaking another one.”

“You’re not exactly...”

“You know what? You don’t get to talk. You're just going to sit there and listen to what I have to say. You want to be a man and make these kinds of decisions? Then you sit there and let another man tell you the way things are. I’m not just random off the street that doesn’t know what he’s talking about. The job was my life. It’s who I was. And when I walked away, I thought I left it behind. And then you come along with this bullshit...”

“Tyler...I...”

“Just shut the fuck up and listen,” he growls. “I’m not fucking around here, Ovi. I’m not pulling any punches. It wasn’t just the job that screwed with my head. There was a lot of things that fucked me up. Things you don’t even know about. All the way back to when I was a kid. But the job? The job fucked me in more ways than you can even begin to imagine. You think it’s fun killing people? That I actually enjoyed it? I took pride in it?”

Ovi shakes his head.

“I did it for the money. That’s it. I didn’t do it to help people. I didn’t give a shit about myself, why would I give a shit about them? And then you came along, and Dhaka happened, and that was my one chance to make things right. For redemption. To prove I wasn’t a shit human being. And part of me was ready to die that day. More than ready. And another part of me wanted to stay alive because I thought maybe...just maybe...I’d met someone that could teach me how to give a shit again. That would actually give a shit about me.”

“She obviously did. And still does. Or she wouldn’t be here.”

“She stayed behind on that bridge. Knowing there was a chance that Asif would get a hold of her. Do you know what would have happened to her if he had? What he would have done to her? Way worse than he would have done to you. He would have killed you quickly. He would have waited days with her. Weeks. Until he was bored with her; tired of doing all kinds of sick and twisted shit to her.”

Ovi swallows heavily, tears welling in his eyes.

“And she still stayed. Knowing what would happen if she got caught there. Fucking Nik took off. She wasn’t even going to come back for us. Everything should have told Esme to leave me there and she didn’t. So don’t come here...to my house...and even think about disrespecting my wife.”

“I wasn’t going to. I...”

“You didn’t even give a shit about what she had to say last night. She’s trying to save your life and you didn’t even care. She doesn’t want you ending up like me, don’t you fucking get that? You think I want to be like this? Fucked in the head? Having to take medication every morning to just goddamn function like somewhat of a human being? You think I want my wife and my kids to see me like this? What the hell is wrong with you that you can’t see what the job does? It hasn’t just fucked me up, it’s fucked all of them up. My wife, my kids. Why can’t you see that?”

“I don’t expect you to get back into the job. Just to help me. And you said you would. With the training. You said...”

“You think it’s really going to stop there? That that’s going to be enough? I’m going to get dragged back into this shit. You know it, I know it. Esme knows it. And it’s fucking killing her inside. Because I told her that this time I was done for good. And now look. Look at the goddamn mess you’ve gotten me into.”

“I never meant to...”

“Never meant to what? Bring me back into it? Bullshit. It’s what you wanted right from the get-go. You never wanted to do this alone. You wanted me with you right from the start. Well now you got what you want. You’ve got me right back into this crap. Whether I want to be in it or not. You know I wouldn’t let you do it alone. You damn well knew from the start I’d never let that happen, didn’t you.”

Ovi reluctantly nods.

“Well I hope you’re prepared then. Because I’m not going to make this easy on you. You want me to drag me off to some shit hole and get me killed, I get to do things my way. And I swear to Christ, if my marriage falls apart because of this and I lose my kids....”

“You won’t. That won’t happen. She’d never leave. You know she wouldn’t.”

“I know she WOULD. Don’t tempt it. I break one more promise to her and it’s done. She’ll take off and I’ll never see my kids again. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making yours miserable because of it. Understand me?”

“I don’t understand why you’re both so worried. Why you’re both so upset. I don’t...”

“What if I don’t come back?” Tyler angrily interjects. “What if this is the one time no one is around to save me? What if it’s the one time a sniper puts a bullet in my head instead of my chest? Do you know what I leave behind? Five kids. Five little kids that deserve so much better than this. Does that even matter to you? Do they even matter to you?”

“Of course they do!” Ovi exclaims. “I love those kids! They’re my brothers and sisters! How could you even ask me that? How could you...?”

“You love them but you’re willing to take their dad away from them? It’s okay that I go in there to rescue your ass, but I get killed for it? I leave them behind; I leave Esme behind. Do you know what that would do to her? Me not coming back? Like what the fuck?” He angrily tosses the craft supplies into a storage container on the edge of the patio and slams the lid closed. “Do you not realize everything I stand to lose?”

“I do. I do realize that. You have a life. A wife and kids and...:”

“And you’re still going to do it. You’re still going to go ahead with this bullshit.”

Ovi sighs.

“We start the day after Millie’s birthday. I don’t want to hear anything more about it until then. You know you’re more than welcome to keep coming over here, just don’t talk about this again. Not in front of my wife. And especially not in front of my kids. Understand me?”

“I understand.”

“We’re finished here. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s been a long fucking day and I’m done with it. With everything. I’m going into Port Douglas tomorrow to take Millie to see my dad. You can come along if you don’t mention a word of this around her.”

“Okay. I’d like that. To see him again. And I’m sorry. I really am. For all the problems. For all the bullshit. I never meant to cause issues. Especially for you and Esme. I never meant...”

“You come between us and fuck things up, I will make your life hell,” Tyler vows, as he gathers up the dirty coffee mug and steps towards the entrance to the house. “I lose my family because of all this, it won’t end well for you.”

“Tyler, I...”

“We’re done with this,” he says, and then slams the door closed behind him.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #extraction #best part of me #chris hemsworth character

8 notes · View notes

a-pretty-nerd · 6 years ago

Text

Fight (Loki x reader smut)

Request: "Heya! I don't know if this is how you request a fic but I am here- I was wondering if you could do a Loki x reader smut? With like, Loki being extremely dominant and rough? (By the way I really love reading your stories-))" ~ Anonymous

A/N: So, I've never written for Loki before, I have written for Chris Evans (another request) but this is new for me. I Loki as a character, especially in Ragnarock. I just love the idea that he's an asshole but also not the worst person ever and his theme song "tried so hard, and got so far, in the end it doesnt even matter!" So I hope you guys like this! As always, my requests are open and I love feedback! ✌❤

Everything Taglist: @marvelismylifffe

Warnings: NSFW, smut, dom/sub, rough sex? cursing, I have no idea what I'm doing!

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

Loki often spent the night at your New York loft appartment. A gift he gave to you after being absent with no word after roughly six months. Loki, being a literal God wasn't around very often, or he was around too much. For example, sometimes you wouldn't hear from him for months on end, where as other times he would stay with you in the apartment for almost a year. Where he would leave for a couple hours a day and retun similar to just going to work and coming back like and living your lives like a normal couple.

It was hard. Especially when your friends or family would ask about him. You'd always lie and say, "He's in the military," or "he's a journalist, he's off in Thailand," or the most common, "he couldn't make it." You were constantly lying to everyone around about him and it was getting old. Real old...and after three years...it was weighing heavy on you. Dazzling gifts like the apartment or magical items and clothing from his own world didn't mean a thing.

You sat alone on your luxurious king sized bed with satin sheets and expensive bedding. The entire apartment was large, open, and sparkled. It was all entirley new and over the top. You always found it a little...too much, though, it read Loki loud and clear. You looked down at your tablet and swiped through work, tired and drained. You felt so alone.

A frighteningly loud sound flew through the room as lights flickered and flashed. You heard a swirling "whoosh" followed by the faint sound of a voice as the sound repeated itself and all became calm once more. You got up and looked out into the living room where you saw him standing there. He adjusted his costume which was a traditional suit from his own world. Not the black suit and tie you were used to.

"My dear, you won't believe the day I've had!" He ran his fingers through his hair to pull it out of his face, he looked up in the oposite direction of you. "Darling? Y/N-" he turned, "oh- there you are." He was relaxed, nonchalant and didn't even appear that excited to see you.

"Three weeks." You mumbled.

"What was that?" He leaned in closer.

"You've been gone three...weeks...Darling." You mimiced. His raised his brows, surprised. He often was when he learned how long it had been. Time went differently for him. "One of these days, you're going to come back and I'm going to be married with kids!" You huffed past him as you made your way to the kitchen. He gave a weary sigh, and shuffled to follow you.

"Well I should hope not. I have yet to propose." He muttered as he reached out to place a hand over yours. You pulled away as you sipped on a glass of water.

"Don't get sweet with me." You barked as you turned, starred into his eyes, and them stomped back into your bedroom.

"Please don't be dramatic, darling."

"I'm not being dramatic! Three weeks, not a word! You're off, god knows where, doing god knows what-" you paused, "fucking god knows who!"

"Y/N!" He practice scolded.

"No! I get to say it. I'm just your sidepiece aren't I? You probably already have some goddess wife and I'm just your fuckin' toy!"

"You know that isn't true..." he growled.

"How would I? You go missing for months, you've never introduced me to any family or friends. You bring me lavish gifts..." your angry expression dropped in realization, "I'm practically your sugar baby!" You cried.

"You're not my..." he looked from side to side as he spoke and then dropped his arms down to his sides as he sighed. "I have given you my word, you are my only."

"You're lying to me!"

"I would never lie to you."

"How do I know thats not a lie!? You're the god of lies after all."

"Mischief. You know that."

"Same shit!"

"Please...Y/N..." he begged.

"No! Im sick of this...I am sick of this!" You went to storm out of the room, but he was faster. He shut the door and blocked your way. He looked deep into your eyes and they burned with fustration. His voice was deep, and smooth.

"You are my only escape. My only relief from my own world and my own madness." As he spoke, he moved closer, but you moved away. He walked you back, towards the bed. "I keep you here, where you are safe and I am at peace. I shower you with gifts and trinkets to keep you entertained. I bare my soul to you, and you alone." He wrapped his fingers firmly around your wrist as he pulled you close to him. He pressed your chest against his and held you there by the small of your back. Your chest heaved as you struggled to breath properly, your heart raced, and your cheeks started to heat. "Do you...understand?" Loki growled. You gave a nod. "I said...do you, understand?" He reached down and grabbed your ass, it made you whimper.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sire." He loved it when you called him that. It always fulfilled that fantasy of his. And for you to be apart of that, it made his blood boil. He gave a big smile and gave a satisfied huff.

"Good girl." He took you by the small of your back and whisked you out of the bedroom and out into the living room. He never hurt you, not in a way you didn't want at least. He held you close to him and looked out the giant ceiling to floor windows which looked out onto the city lights. Then, he turned back to you, and practically attacked you. He kissed you with so much passion and force it startled you at first. But you quickly melted, like you always did. He hands squeezed your ass playfully and his lips trailed down where he bit and sucked on your neck.

"L-Loki." You moaned, struggling to get away from his grasp. He stopped, only to look back down at you with hooded lustfilled eyes. "People will see us from their windows."

"Was that not clear before hand? Why worry when I have nothing to hide?" He purred, and simply went back to leaving hickies on your neck. You would have protested but...the man drove you crazy. Eventually, when it wasnt enough, he reached around and grabbed your shirt, and pulled. He ripped open your shirt, reaveling your breasts to him. He groped them roughly and sucked. It made you moan.

He threw down your sweat pants, and almost pushed you onto the couch to pull them off your feet. When did he take off his shirt? It didn't matter, it was off now. He leaned forward on top of you and gave you another passionate kiss, gently bitting and pulling at your bottom lip as he moved away.

"Will you be my good girl?" He cooed, bringing his hand to your neck and simply holding it there.

"Yes, sire." You moaned. It made him smile as he leaned back down to kiss you again. He started to grind himself against you in your panties still. It made him moan with anticipation and pleasure. Once that became too much, he pulled himself away. He sat up, naked now. He pulled you up by your arms, gently. He had you on your knees. Your view of the city as you rested you arms on the back of the couch. Your ass face him. He stood behind you, and pulled down your panties to your knees.

"Mmmmhh perfection." He purred from behind you. He ran a hand across your ass with one hand, and played with your clit for a moment with the other. You whimpered. "Absolute..." he then reached that hand out to support himself by the back of the couch as he leaned in. He rested his head on your shoulder and moaned in your ear as he slid his cock deep inside of you with ease. "Perfection."

"Fuuuuuck...sire.." you had to remember to call him that. Your mind was already almost blank. It really started to wash away when he started to fuck you. Hard, and deep. He went slow at first, rocking his hips into your ass. He stretched his arms from either side to support himself. But as he started to move faster, and faster, you started to hang your head low. You closed your eyes and relaxed, but he was having none of that. He reached to your neck and held your head up as he smacked into you. "Siiiire." You moaned loudly for him.

"What a good girl you are." He cooed in your ear through huffs and grunts. You were so close and so tight, with his other hand, he reaches down and rubbed your clit as he fucked you faster. Desperate for his own release by now. It drove you over the edge. You almost screamed his name. You leaned back and clung to his arms as he held them there for the rest of the moment until he came. When you came, he erratically thrusted, and moved his hands so they clung to your hip and shoulder.

You panted together until he loosened his grip and pulled away. He sat down on the couch beside you with an exhausted gasp. You sat beside him, laying your head on his shoulder. He reached around and held you close to him in the afterglow.

"I'm still upset..." you spoke after a while.

"I know. I am sorry, darling."

"You've got to text me, or something." You told him, it made him chuckle.

"We'll work something out." He promised and planted a kiss on your forehead.

#loki fanfic #loki (marvel)#loki x reader #loki x reader smut #marvel fanfic #marvel smut #lokie smut #dom loki #sub reader

1K notes · View notes

sometimesrosy · 5 years ago

Text

please abbreviate name and ship

Anonymous said:I��m not trying to be rude as I know you ship Bellarke, but can you explain why you think L/xa was manipulative towards Clarke and why you disliked their relationship? I just don’t see it that way and I would like to hear a different perspective.

Am I ready to go into this? Ok. First, I’m not taking offense. I don’t have a problem discussing different interpretations, however, fandom has a problem with me doing so, which is why I ask everyone to abbreviate Lxa and CL, so that I don’t show up in their ship or stan tags, not because I am disrespecting the character or ship, but because I honestly don’t want the harassment to start up all over again. The history of me and the cl shippers is ugly, with me mostly trying to stay out of it and them coming after me like I was trying to poison their puppy. All the puppies. The CL fandom had a name for me. It was “The Devil.” So you should know that.

Let me begin by telling you that I am the survivor of domestic abuse, and stared watching this show after finally kicking my emotionally, psychologically and economically abusive ex husband out of the house, and what I saw in CL was a reflection of my own relationship, aka, not healthy. I resonated with it as a woman with PTSD recovering from abuse. I tried to explain this in fandom but was ignored and erased and called a lesbophobe instead. I am not. I am an abuse survivor who cares about understanding and unpacking abusive relationships and empowering victims. Abuse is not limited to m/f relationships.

I need to make it clear that my interpretation of CL does not invalidate the interpretation of CL as an epic romance, fantasy story, or wlw empowerment tale. Those are all valid and I recognize the need for the wlw community to have the same kind of stories that straight people have always had, and CL within The 100 was SO CLOSE to being the epic fantasy that was needed. But the canon proved that it never was a romance genre story that allows... DEMANDS the happy ever after ending. So The 100 was a great disappointment to the fans. It failed to give them what they were looking for. CL was a LOT like a very traditional M/F romantic trope that does end up with a HEA lovestory ending, the captive princess and heroic warrior king story. So it’s no wonder they read it as an epic romance just like the ones they’ve been seeing for m/f romances for centuries... MILLENNIA.

That said, I’m going to put my analysis under the jump, because I don’t want anyone who doesn’t want to hear it have it appear on their dash. This is an entirely opt-in meta, and if reading something critical of a ship you love or like is not what you want to do, then please be a responsible consumer of media and do not opt in.

okay, so op, I GET why you see nothing wrong with this romantic dynamic. I was like you once, and I thought the warrior/princess dynamic was sexy and romantic and the fantasy of being taken away from all your problems so you didn’t have to deal is A+. But ever since I was IN a relationship like that, and realized it wasn’t about love or romance, but rather about power and control, I cannot, AT ALL, find it attractive. It’s painful and harmful to be in. And it’s not great for the dominant lover, either, tbh.

Please note: I do not have a problem with them being wlw. NOT the problem. I’ve been involved with the lgbt community since 1988. I am bisexual, demiace and androgynous myself and my sister was in a long term relationship with a woman and I like other wlw ships just not this one--because for me, it reproduces a harmful m/f romantic trope. When I find m/f ships like this I don’t love them EITHER. (reylo is just as filtered out of my dash as cl is.) So that’s a lot of explaining why I disliked their relationship and it has to do with my experience in an abusive relationship that was about power and domination and how I learned that that is NOT love. So now I’m just gonna make some points about where there was manipulation in the the relationship, some of which came before romance, some of which was the ‘courtship.’

when they first met, L posed on the throne and blamed her for killing the army she’d sent to destroy the delinquents. Clarke WON the battle that L started, and she acted like that was murder. no.

When L told Clarke that Finn would die for HER. although her actions had nothing to do with his massacre.

When L told her that Finn’s mercy killing would haunt Clarke forever.

When L told Clarke that love was a weakness. That is the WORST advice ever and anyone who still stanned L after that nonsense... i just don’t understand why y’all have no sense. I knew from the start that was a sign that L was “in the wrong.” it is CLEARLY a bad life philosophy. (made much worse that she began a courtship with Clarke after using her philosophy to cut Clarke off from her people, thus leaving only HER love as worthy? IDK. But that’s after this timeline.)

When Clarke came running to save TonDC and Lxa from the bombs, and Lxa COERCED Clarke into letting them bomb the village. This was the first REAL sign to me that this relationship was manipulative and abusive and it wasn’t a relationship yet. They weren’t even friends yet. And Lxa used Clarke’s guilt over Finn and LOVE for Bellamy to rush her into a decision that benefitted LXA’s political agenda, to get rid of the troublesome rivals on the coalition. She used methods with Clarke that were the same exact thing that my ex used to do to me. She told her that she had no time to argue, although there was time for L’s argument, and there were no other solutions although Clarke offered like three separate ones (setting a fire as the probable most effective.) That was NEVER Clarke’s decision. Lxa COERCED her. And MANIPULATED her.

WORSE after it was done, LXA BLAMED HER FOR IT. Said it was her action. Forced her to keep it a secret (which only benefitted LXA.) Then tried to kill Octavia.

Look I totally understand why Lxa was besotted with Clarke. She’s amazing. But she started pursuing her when Clarke was dependent upon Lxa’s army and goodwill.

She started pushing her about her FEELINGS for Bellamy when they were military allies, AFTER telling her about how her political enemies used her love for Costia to control her, and KILLED her for it. So here she is, a political...associate, questioning her about someone she thinks she loves, after telling her that love is a weakness. Pushing her feelings for Bellamy as a what? Vulnerability? Way to control her? RIVAL FOR HER ROMANTIC ATTENTIONS?

Then Lxa KISSES HER. IN the MIDDLE OF A CAMPAIGN? Can you freaking imagine? The woman with all the power, who Clarke depends upon for the life of her loved ones, essentially her “boss,” in a way. She makes a move on her. Think about this. “I like you, oh by the way, i hold your people’s life in my hand, so you should come live with me.” Dude. That’s not a sweet romance, it’s sexual harassment.

Just to bring it to a point. Clarke rejects her advances and then THE NEXT WORDS are “he did it,” because Bellamy has sent up the signal, victorious warrior (rival) and get’s all Clarke’s attention. What happens then? Oh yeah.

ON the verge of WINNING the freaking mountain completely, Lxa SELLS HER ROMANTIC RIVAL (bellamy) and Clarke’s people, who proved far more formidable and successful than she expected and so are a politcal threat to her, to her GENERATIONAL ENEMIES. and then. get this.

AND THEN SHE INVITES HER TO COME LIVE WITH HER AGAIN. Oh hey babe, since your people are destroyed and your boyfriend is dead, wanna come to my place? ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?

And no, despite all the people who tried to argue that was a WISE political move, no the hell it wasn’t. It was the path to her demise. She broke faith with her allies, not just sky crew but also the coalition and they took her down for it.

In addition, Lxa herself admitted that was her biggest regret. That was her biggest mistake. WRONG DECISION. Weak leader. And a betrayal.

THEN 3 months later, she kidnaps her and imprisons her. This is not romance. This is not protection. If it WERE protection, she would have sent her back to her people. She was a prisoner. This is not a romantic situation.

Oh when she told her how PATIENT she’d been for ALLOWING her to not talk to her for two weeks. Bitch. You have her in prison. You aren’t patient. You aren’t kind. You kidnapped her. After your betrayal. YOU’RE the one who should be begging for her forgiveness. Instead you’re acting like she’s an immature child. What?

She then gaslighted her and told her she didn’t do anything wrong when she betrayed her and she did the same thing anyone would do, in fact, LXA wasn’t the betrayer, CLARKE was the betrayer. She turned her OWN sins around and blamed them on Clarke. She did it. We saw her did it. We saw how she forced Clarke’s hand and made her choose between TERRIBLE choices.

Then she FORCES her to bend the knee so she doesn’t murder all of sky crew. That was not romantic. That was force.

And she offers her own private bent knee ceremony with no witnesses and promises we all know she won’t keep because she has no honor and no one there to make sure she does what she promises.

WHICH IS WHY Clarke can’t leave. Because no one else will make sure she keeps her promises.

AND THEN we get to the carrot part of the carrot and stick part of manipulation. You can leave and I’ll kill all your people, or you can STAY and get nice clothes and a safe room and good food and music and be treated like a pampered bird in a golden cage. Do what I say? Get nice things. Just because you are being given nice things and treated nicely doesn’t mean it’s not manipulation and you aren’t being dominated.

I might also add that during this time, L often mentioned her own death. As if it would happen. Now Clarke had to stay not only to save her people from death, but also to save LXA from death. Just so you know, this is a classic psychological abuse technique. The abuser threatens/implies suicide if the abusee ever leaves them. “Oh when you go I will die, that’s the way it is.”

Reminder, when Clarke wanted to go to Arkadia and fix the massacre, Lxa REFUSED. When Clarke said, “so I’m a prisoner now?” Lxa said straight out in canon. “Yes you are a prisoner.” She had ALWAYS been a prisoner. She was not a guest. She had no freedom to leave. Making her feel like she had to or wanted to stay does not mean she actually had a choice. She did not. (compare this to when Bellamy told Octavia, i understand if you need to go, but you’ll always have a place with me.” O had the FREEDOM to stay or go, and B NEVER gave or withheld permission. She was free. Clarke was not.)

Oh and Clarke is not innocent in the manipulation, either. After the hakeldama massacre, Clarke used her evaluation of Lxa as being proud and concerned with her “legacy” to manipulate her into betraying her OWN people and their beliefs and saying “blood must NOT have blood.” And yes that led to L’s downfall, but to be fair, she already did it by sparing MW. L is vain, and Clarke worked that. To sky crew’s advantage, but she did.

After they get back from Hakeldama Clarke has given up on Bellamy and their relationship starts being less manipulative. Oh wait. the whole “so wait, you want me to not take vengeance for your people’s crimes by wiping out the village, but you’re going to punish this actual murderer who just tried to kill you, huh? wow hypocrite much?”

And then when Lxa decides to *surprise surprise* go back on her promise to treat sky crew like her own people and WIPE OUT THE ENTIRE POPULATION, she’s like, okay, I give you permission to leave now and be with your people. Aren’t I kind and merciful to let you go? NO YOU ARE NOT. It isn’t kind and it isn’t merciful and it isn’t loving to ALLOW your beloved to be with her people. before you wipe them out. Or even if you’re not. It shouldn’t be up to you whether she goes or stays. It should be up to HER. But it never was.

Tbh it wasn’t until Lxa “let her go” after she’d already committed to murdering all Clarke’s people and Clarke couldn’t do anything to stop it anymore that the relationship stopped being manipulative. Their ENTIRE relationship was finding way to work each other. I do not like that kind of relationship. The only wholesome part of their relationship was their time with Pauna (no manipulaton it was a fine story) and the sex, (also a perfectly lovely story. )

Okay. go ahead and hate me now. A couple years after, I rewatched the show to see if I could see that stirring, epic love story in CL that the fans love, and even when I’d worked through my personal abuse issues and was no longer literally triggered by it, I found it to be a thin romance, far too political in nature. Just didn’t do it for me. Was it passionate? Yes. Did they like each other? D: No. I don’t think they were ever intimate enough with each other (except for with Pauna) to actually get to know each other. It was very pretty and glamourous. I am not a fan of glamour. It tends to be all show, little depth.

all in all, I do NOT think CL is the love story that wlw deserve. I dont’ think it was intended to be. And I think people hungry for a canon fantasy love story believed they were getting their HEA that romances promise. But it wasn’t a romance. (I cannot make excuses for The 100′s social media presence at that time. they fucked up.) I think it was CLARKE’S story of darkness and trauma and recovery, and L was her shadow. She needed to fall n love with her to embrace her own dark side. And she needed to die to push forward both Clarke’s trauma and the plot. Lxa was a tragic hero like Macbeth. Doomed. I don’t like Macbeth as a character, either.

#the 100 #don't read if you get offended by critiques of l or cl #or if you want to be outraged keep me out of it #i'm trying to keep it as far away from the fans as i can #i'm allowed to not like a character you love

38 notes · View notes

sparklebitch · 6 years ago

Note

Lance was a mercenary (or something somewhat similar) before he became a paladin

A/N: Just FYI I am currently accepting prompts again! P.S. Me, an idiot (who's surprise tho) forgot that assassin and mercenary are not the same thing sooo I done messed up again.

Trigger warnings are listed in the tags.

Pidge noticed something strange as they walked through the streets. Voltron had just liberated their planet, people were celebrating in the streets, but the moment that walked by some people began cowering. Some ran and hid, others bolted their doors. Pidge didn't understand why. They had just saved their planet, why were they afraid?

Pidge lagged behind the others and observed the scene carefully. She watched as Allura and Coran led the way, confidently moving through the crowd as bystanders yelled out their praises. Then came Shiro, Keith, and Hunk, who modestly waved at the citizens who were all waving back excitedly. After them, the mood shifted. Lance walked meekly, his head held down as he trailed behind his teammates. When the people's attention turned to him, their faces changed to one of fear. They hid their children behind them, as they retreated, disappearing in the shadows. Judging by the look on Lance's face, Pidge guesses that Lance knew exactly why they had this reaction.

"So what do you all think?" Allura asked as Pidge caught up with the others. "Shall we stay the night?" One of the Yinnoi leaders was standing behind Allura with a hopeful look in her eye. These people so desperately wanted to do something to repay Voltron for all that they had done for them.

"We would love to" Shiro said with a kind smile. Pidge could visibly see Lance tense beside her. He had his eyes downcast and he was continually reached up to fix his hair or scratched his neck so that part of his face was concealed. Pidge jammed her elbow into Lance's side and shot him a look. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and frowned.

'What?' he mouthed.

"What the hell are you doing?" she whispered as the group followed the Yinnoi leader to the large building down the road. Lance pinched his lips and shook his head.

"Not now" he pleaded. Pidge shrugged at him and then followed the others into the building.

~ ~

"Spill" It was hours later. As it turns out, the Yinnoi people were partiers. The paladins were exhausted and after thanking the leaders for the celebration, they excused themselves. They were shown to extravagantly decorated rooms and told to stay as long as they wanted.

Lance's hands flexed involuntarily against his thighs as he turned away from Pidge. "I... don't know what you're talking about" he said smoothly. Pidge raised her eyebrows and strode further into the blue paladin's room.

"Don't play stupid. You know I noticed" Lance's face hardened.

"I seriously have no idea--" Pidge stopped a few feet away from Lance and crossed her arms. She hadn't seen Lance at the party at all, aside from when they first walked in and he darted to a table in the corner of the room.

"Lance. Cut the bullshit. Why were those people so afraid of you?"

"Drop it" Lance said firmly. Pidge stepped forward dangerously.

"You know I won't" she said stubbornly. Lance clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. "Tell me. What could you possibly be hiding?" A vein throbbed in Lance's neck.

"You don't want to know" his voice was quiet, cold. He spoke slowly, like he wanted to be doubly sure what he was saying before he said it. Pidge had never seen this side of Lance before. His face was devoid of any emotion and if it wasn't for the anxious bouncing of his knee she would've thought that he was completely calm.

"Oh, actually I do" she argued. "I saw the way they were all looking at you. How do they even know who you are?" Lance didn't respond. "Fine, if you're not going to answer then I'll just have to guess" Again, Lance said nothing. "Based on the terrified looks that the people gave you, and the fact that they were hiding their children I can assume that they know you, and it's not for something good. This is an alien planet, so for them to know you specifically and to be this afraid of you I have to assume that you currently or at one time posed a threat to them directly, meaning that you either have been here since joining Voltron or... you've been to space long before now" Lance swallowed thickly but didn't otherwise react.

Pidge began pacing across the room, her hand on her chin as she mused. "I'm going to assume that you've been to space before Voltron, seeing as we've had little time to even sleep since being flung through a wormhole in space. Am I on the right track so far?" Lance crossed his legs and stared blankly at the wall behind Pidge. "Hmph fine, don't give me any clues. I got all night pal."

"Now, the question is WHY were you in space before Voltron? Not only that, but why were you all the way out here? Unless of course you weren't born on Earth, and since we don't really know that much about your family or anything about you before you came to the garrison maybe you were born out here... Maybe you were born on this planet..." Lance pound his fists on the bedside table, startling Pidge out of her thoughts.

"Oh for FUCKS SAKE, Pidge, can't you just let it go!?" Lance's outburst only served to intensify Pidge's curiosity. "Why do you have to butt into business that clearly isn't yours!" Pidge turned to face Lance, not intimidated in the slightest.

"I thought we were supposed to be a family, Lance. That's what you said. Voltron is out family now, and families don't keep huge secrets. Especially ones that might prove to get us in trouble with people in our alliance! Just tell me what you're hiding!" Lance shot up and swiftly crossed the room to the window that overlooked the glimmering gold lake behind the building. He rubbed his face with the palms of his hands before dropping them and focusing on the water.

"It was a long time ago" he said softly. Pidge inched closer so that she could hear him. "I- It's not who I am anymore. I didn't tell anyone because... I don't want you guys to think differently of me" Lance lapsed into silence.

"I would never judge you for anything, Lance" Lance closed his eyes and touched his forehead to the cool window.

"Don't be so quick to say that" he said with a humorless laugh. He took a deep breath and then began. "Before I attended the garrison, I was... a rough kid. Really rough. I grew up being bounced around from place to place because of my dad's job. We never really had a lot of money, sometimes we didn't even have enough money to buy food for weeks on end. It... it was really hard. I had three younger siblings and my mama tried so hard to take care of us the best way that she could but that was had with what we had" Pidge leaned up against the dresser next to the window and listened intently to Lance's story.

"When I was at the grocery store one day I saw this flier on the bulletin board by the door. It was advertising this military type school that children fifteen years and older could attend to learn leadership skills and discipline. There were scholarships for those who qualified, along with a monthly check that got sent to them for the work that they would be doing. I begged my mama to let me go. I told her that I wanted to help the family, and this was the only way how. Unfortunately, I wasn't old enough. I was only twelve at the time, but I looked really grown up for my age" Lance shrugged. "Anyhow, my parents both told me no. But I couldn't let it go. Everyday I had to watch my parents struggle to keep us from being thrown out on the streets. I had to watch my siblings cry because they didn't have milk or a single piece of bread to eat. My family was wasting away, and I knew that there was a way for me to help them. There was no way that I could just forget about it"

Pidge watched Lance's face. It was dark as he spoke. She had no idea about any of that. From what Lance had told her before about his family, she assumed that they were just a normal happy family. "So you ran away?" Pidge asked when Lance paused.

"Yeah. I packed up what few things I had and left a note for my parents. I went to the address on the flier and wrote out my application for the school. I lied about my age and a few other things, forged my parents signatures and voila. I was gone"

"Gone?"

"Yeah. Turns out the whole school was bullshit. It was a ploy to steal children and ship them off to some intergalactic mercenary training school on the planet Tabradus and--" Pidge waved her hands.

"Whoa whoa whoa. You mean the Tabradus!?" THe so called 'school' on that planet had been shut down after years of turning children into trained killers, using them to kill people at their command until they were 18, when they were subsequently turned loose into the world to wreak havoc. It was a messed up place. And to think that Lance had gone there so that he could send money home to his family?

"Yeah" he said simply.

"Wow" Pidge said in shock. "So... when those people saw your face... they were scared because--"

"I was sent here to kill the previous Yinnoi leader. Publicly. I made... a lot of money" he said hollowly. "My parents were able to rent a nice apartment for a few months after I wired the money to them"

"Holy shit" Pidge sunk down until she was sitting on the ground. She couldn't even fathom what Lance had been through at that school, or what he had done after leaving there.

"Before you even ask, I yes it was just as terrible as you're imagining and no I'm not going to tell you about it. Like I said, that's in the past now. That's not who I am. It was something that I was forced into, and I was too naive to realize how truly deplorable the things that I was doing were. It's something I have to live with every day"

"How did you get out?" Pidge asked after trying to process the information for a few moments.

"An ex-member of the school ended up joining the Blade of Marmora. He snuck into the school and helped a lot of kids escape. He gave us a place to stay and offered to take us back to our home planets. But... I just couldn't go home. Not after what I had done to those people. I couldn't face them. So he told me about the garrison. He told me that it would be good for me, and that I could get a weekend job working there so that I could continue to send money home to my parents. He helped my get enrolled. He... he saved my life" Lance said.

The air hung heavy in the room as Lance concluded his story. Pidge didn't know what to say. She had no idea that Lance was carrying this around with him. How long had he been struggling with the memories of this? Being with Voltron in the middle of this war couldn't have helped. He was only a child when he was taught to kill people. The effect that that has to have on a person...

Pidge stood and in an instant her arms were wrapped around Lance's middle. Lance froze in surprise. The last thing that he expected after telling his story was for Pidge to hug him.

"Wha-" Lance stuttered, his eyes wide. He didn't know what to do with his arms. Pidge's face was buried in Lance's shirt. "Why are you hugging me?"

"I don't know. It feels like the right thing to do right now" she mumbled. "I'm sorry for pushing"

"I should've told everyone a long time ago" Lance said numbly.

"Lance I'll keep it a secret if you don't feel comfortable telling the others" she said, still clinging to Lance. Lance began to relax at Pidge's touch.

"Oh. Thank you" His fingers brushed against the back of Pidge's shirt. "I will tell them. It's just..."

"Hard" Pidge supplied. Lance nodded. "Don't feel pressured at all. Tell them when you're ready to tell them" Lance looked down at the smaller paladin attached to him and his face softened. He was confused. After hearing a story like that any normal person would be horrified. They would be weird and probably wouldn't want to be around him anymore.

But then again, Pidge wasn't really a normal girl.

Lance finally moved his arms and hugged Pidge back, closing his eyes. For the first time in a long time, he cracked a small smile.

~ ~ ~

| Other fics | Ko-fi |

#langst #plance #voltron #vld #lance angst #angst #plangst #prompts #mine #tw #trigger warning #death mention

149 notes · View notes

faveficarchive · 5 years ago

Text

The Hitch Hiker

By Bongo Bear

Pairing: AU Xena/Gabrielle

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: AU Xena/Gabrielle meet after an airport an airport snafu, and their past selves are dredged up. CW: dub!con

Personal Note: This right here is the OG Uber-fic for the Xenaverse. Bongo Bear LITERALLY COINED THE TERM UBER for Xena fic, and fanfic in general, so bless her for her contributions. Bongo and Bat Morda paved the way for you to enjoy every Mel/Janice, Xena/Gabrielle uber fic you’ve ever read. You ain’t got nothing on this woman. I don’t usually post ubers that don’t contain 99% pure X/G or M/J in their named glory, but this one has to be preserved, as it was the first. I’ll also be posting a few more of her stories as I can find them.

I was in a real snit, to put it mildly. I was tired and hungry and still had a long way to go. I had just lost my boarding pass after the bags were already checked in and loaded on the plane. Time was running out and I was desperate enough to call upon a higher power.

So, I supplicated myself to a priestess of air travel at the altar of Customer Service. I begged her to let me join my luggage on the flight that was about to leave in five minutes from the gate a hundred yards away from where I prostrated myself before her. I made offerings of Mastercard, Visa, and American Express to no avail. She looked at me with sympathetic eyes, but no way was she going to violate security protocols and let me on board without the missing pass. I sighed deeply and started to look at the flight schedule to other cities when I heard a voice call out to me.

I turned at the sound and saw a woman sitting in the waiting lounge nearby. She smiled and waved at me. I pointed to my chest, who me? She nodded vigorously, yes you! I walked over to this woman whom I had never set eyes upon before and asked, "Ahh, did you want to say something to me?"

"Yes, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation over there," she pointed to the counter. "I'm going to Vancouver as well and missed the same flight, but for different reasons. Now, I'm on a flight to Bellingham; it's just an hour drive to Vancouver from there. If you get a seat on the Bellingham flight, I'll drive you over. The plane leaves in thirty minutes."

I'm not accustomed to the unexpected generosity of strangers, so I looked her over. Even though she was seated, I could tell that she was tall, taller than me. Her dark hair was gathered in a long ponytail that curled over her shoulder. What really caught my attention were her incredible, deep blue eyes. They matched the indigo denim shirt she wore under her black leather parka. I thought for sure that Mother Nature didn't make eyes like that and that she was wearing contacts. I looked for the tell-tale rings in the corneas, but I couldn't find them.

"Well, are you interested in my offer or not?"

I mentally slapped myself when I realized that I was falling into her eyes. What was she offering me? Oh, yes, a ride. "Yeah, sure. Why not? You don't look like an axe murderer." I grinned at my lame attempt to break the ice.

"That's a relief! I hate to think that people find me threatening. My name is Alexandria, but you can call me Alex," she said as she stood up and extended her hand to me.

"I'm Gwen, short for Guinevere," I said, shaking her hand. A strong grip. I liked that. Some women, when they shake hands, only grasp the fingers and give them a weak wiggle. That always made me feel like they were hiding something because they weren't willing to give all of their hand to me. What else would a person like that hold back? Alex's hand was large enough to encompass all of mine. She shook my hand firmly, yet gently. I could trust her. Completely. What the hell am I thinking, I thought.

"Guinevere is a very old, very auspicious name," Alex observed.

"My mom was a big fan of Le Morte d'Arthur. Now, Alex is an unusual nickname for Alexandria."

"I throw people for a loop whenever they meet me. You know, they're expecting some guy instead of me. Besides, I'm more memorable that way," she said matter-of-factly.

No kidding, I thought. "Hmm, I need to buy my ticket. Will you watch my backpack for me?" I set my heavy pack in the empty seat next to Alex and walked over to the ticket counter. When I returned, she was studying the blueprint tube sticking out of the top of the pack.

"It's a practice sword called a bokuto," I said as I pulled the tube out of the pack and sat down. I removed the protective tube and handed her the wooden sword. "I'm a student of Iaido..."

"The Japanese martial art of drawing a sword and striking down your opponent in a single stroke," she finished. "By the way, where's your live blade?"

I looked at her quizzically, "My sword's at home. Security would get antsy if I carried on three feet of razor sharp steel. How did you know about Iaido?"

"I'm a professor of military history. Actually, my specialty is Greek warfare, but I keep up with other cultures as well," she said as her hand caressed the smooth wood of the sword's blade.

This time, I stopped myself from staring at her graceful hand and said, "I'm an architect. I've just finished a guest lecture on design here in Denver."

"So are you going to Vancouver for another lecture?"

"No, Vancouver's a working vacation; Denver was just work. You promise not to laugh too hard?" Alex nodded. "I like to write on the side. So I'm attending a writers' workshop in Vancouver. When I was in college, I had to decide whenever to major in literature or architecture. I've always had a bent for the written word as well as drafting and design. I chose architecture for the money, but I never gave up writing for the pleasure."

"I understand. It's good to cultivate many talents: public speaking, word smithing, and sword play," she said as she handed my sword back to me. "Boarding call....let's get in line." She put her hand around my upper arm. I let her guide me out of my seat and into the queue.

"'Word smithing' to describe scribbling stories is a bit overly dramatic, isn't it?" I said, a little embarrassed by the flourish she gave that part of my life.

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's part of what you are. That's nothing to be ashamed of. The attendant wants your pass," she said as she directed my gaze to the waiting attendant.

We boarded the plane. It was a lot smaller than I had expected for such a long trip from Denver to near the Canadian border. The plane, being as tiny as it was, transmitted every swoop, turn, and sudden updraft directly to my stomach. I held my head between my knees. I knew I was going to hurl into the barf bag I held to my mouth. Alex, seated next to me, rubbed my neck and my back to try to soothe me. She had me sit up, then she grasped my wrist tightly. Suddenly, my motion sickness faded from the full-blown tempest to a slight churning in my gut.

"What did you do?" I asked Alex. She said, "I've activated a pressure point on your wrist. Like this." She demonstrated again. It was like a toggle switch. Hit the point once the nausea goes away. Hit again and it comes right back at you. "Oh god, I'm gonna be sick." She quickly switched off my stomach. "Thanks, I can relax now," I said.

Feeling a bit conversational, I decided to find out more about my unusual traveling companion. "So, what brought you to Denver?" I asked.

"I did some hiking in the Rocky Mountain National Park. Ever been there, Gwen?"

I nodded. "It's one of the most beautiful places on Earth. Not too many places have skies as blue, snow caps as white, or lakes as clear." I watched her face intently as she spoke. I could almost see the stormy blue skies over the Rockies reflected in her eyes.

"I assume that you hiked by yourself. Do you like communing with Nature all alone?" I asked.

"I've traveled with a friend in the past, but now I travel alone. I would prefer a companion," she said almost shyly. She looked at me expectantly. I wasn't sure how to respond.

"Please go on. I want to hear about your trip," I said relaxing into my seat. I felt her fingers burning into my hand as she touched me to emphasize a point. Her voice fell into a sing-song that slowly dropped octaves and the volume softened to a low whisper. I stopped hearing any more of her words, as I fell into a light snooze that quickly deepened into REM sleep. I dreamt about Alex, but not Alex.

******

A tall, dark beauty looking amazingly like Alex walks tentatively towards me. She's wearing what looks like a one-piece leather bathing suit with a matching set of breast armor, gauntlets, and arm bands. She smiles brilliantly at me. I approach her, but she won't let me touch her. I can't hear what she's saying. She leans in to kiss me on the lips. I close my eyes and purse my lips in anticipation...

******

"Gwen!" Alex tried to shake me out of the dream. "Wake up!" She shook me hard enough to throw my upper body into the aisle.

"Uuhh, what? Oh, it's you," I said. She said that I was talking some nonsense aloud and she didn't want me to embarrass myself. "What did I say?" I asked warily.

"Nothing intelligible, but the other passengers started to look at you funny," she said.

"Great, thanks for waking me. My ears are killing me. We must be landing." I looked out of the window and saw white. Not just the white of flying through cloud cover, but the white of the ground covered with snow and the white of the sky whose horizon was increasingly indistinguishable as the day came to a close. "Are you sure we can drive through this mess? It looked like it snowed ten feet down there!"

Alex patted my hand, "No, problem. I grew up here and know the area well. Besides, we can rent a four-by-four SUV when we land."

******

We pulled out of the rental car lot and were on the road to Vancouver in no time flat. Alex drove while I rode shotgun. She tuned the radio to a local NPR station that was playing classical music. Soon she was humming softly to the strains of Mozart's Magic Flute. I leaned back against the head rest and squinted my eyes at the setting sun as it outlined Alex's features.

She concentrated all of her attention on the road because of the driving snow. I took the opportunity to look at her, to really see this intriguing woman. The fading sun illuminated the profile of her face. The planes of her high cheek bones complemented her long, straight nose. Her countenance had a classic beauty that the typical Barbie doll beauty queen lacks. Her face projected strength, confidence, and something else that I bet scared the holy shit out of her students when the mood struck her.

She must have felt my stare, for she said, "What are you looking at, Gwen?" She kept her eyes on the road.

"You," I said brazenly, almost wishing I hadn't said anything at all. "I know I've met you before..." She just smiled enigmatically at the windshield.

Alex turned on the headlights. The falling snow sparkled as it fell through the beams. It would have been a lovely sight if the snowfall weren't so heavy. The visibility was reduced to mere feet once the sun went down. "We'll have to pull over. It's too dangerous to drive in these conditions. I'll park away from the road so that we don't have to worry about a car hitting us in the night."

"Where can we stay? I'm not too thrilled about camping out in the SUV tonight," I whined.

"We'll be just fine in the back. I have camping equipment in my luggage."

I looked out at the heavy falling snow. It was wet and stuck to everything. The wind whipped around what didn't stick and obscured everything else but the small space directly in front of the SUV. I blew out a sigh between my lips. The window immediately fogged. "Damn, we're snowbound."

******

Alex put down the back seats of the SUV to form a flat surface and laid her sleeping bag across it. "There's only one bag," I said, pointing out the obvious. "I know. We'll have to share. My bag's big enough," Alex said.

How convenient for you, I thought. "I'm not comfortable with that. Why don't you sleep back there and I'll just curl up in the front seat?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Besides, it's much warmer if we sleep together." She shrugged herself into the bag, looked at me, then patted the empty space next to her. I shook my head no. "Suit yourself."

Thirty minutes later, I was freezing and not getting a wink of sleep. Cold moonlight poured through the windshield, dimly lighting the interior. I looked back and saw her shivering a little in her sleep as well. I crawled back there and gently woke up Alex. She said sleepily, "Changed your mind? Come here and lie down."

I took off my heavy parka and snuggled up inside. I laid the parka over the bag for extra warmth. Alex had done the same with hers. I laid flat on my back and peered straight ahead so I wouldn't have to look at her. Like I could actually ignore her. I felt her body heat radiating into my side.

"Gwen, why were you staring at me earlier?" She propped herself up to face me.

"Umm, no particular reason. You're just interesting to look at." I still stared at the ceiling.

"Uh huh. You said you knew me from somewhere else? Do you remember where?" She caught a lock of my hair and began to twirl it in her fingers.

"Stop that," I said, grabbing her hand. "You just look very familiar; that's all! Is there a point to the twenty questions?" I said impatiently, releasing her hand.

"Maybe..." She put her hand on my stomach and began to rub it in slow circles through the sleeping bag.

"Like you're trying to seduce me?"

"Who me?" she asked as innocently as possible for her.

"I don't see anyone else here." I rolled over and pretended to search around the cramped loading area of the SUV. She caught my hand and placed a fingertip in her mouth. Then she kissed the palm of my hand before nibbling the sensitive spot on the inside of my wrist. Don't...do...that..." I objected weakly.

"Why not?" she said.

Why not, indeed. I couldn't think of a good reason to refuse her attentions. She was beautiful, aroused, and getting me there, too. I was wondering if her suggestion to travel with her back at the airport was a mere coincidence or if it was somehow fated. Why here, why now, why me?

"I can see the indecision on your face, Gwen. A lot of questions going through that hard head of yours." She quickly closed the distance between our lips. "Have you made up your mind, yet?" I responded by rolling her on top of me. "I'll take that as a 'yes'," she said, looking down at my wide open eyes. Her long hair tickled my neck and my nose. She deliberately moved her head so that the soft strands brushed against my skin, making me laugh.

"You're all flushed. Let's get you out of those clothes." She picked herself up, then pulled me to a sitting position. As she kissed me, she slowly unbuttoned my flannel shirt. She bent down and placed her soft lips on my exposed skin as each unbutton came undone. The wet kisses left a trail of goose bumps. By the time the trail led to my navel, I was ready tear the rest off myself. I kicked away the top of the sleeping bag, then leaned back so I could unzip my jeans. Her hands beat me to the zipper. She pulled the jeans and underwear off in a single motion and was tugging at my socks. "Leave them be," I said panting slightly. She looked at me with a questioning eyebrow. "I don't want to get cold feet."

She smirked at the unexpected humor. "All right. The socks stay put." Her voice grew husky, "Is your foreplay as good as your wordplay?" Before I could answer, she pushed me back into the bag and straddled my hips. Since she was facing the front, the moonlight struck her full in the face. The effect left me breathless. Her brilliant blue eyes, glittering with an internal fire, were set in her pale face like sapphires lying on white satin. She held my gaze and began to murmur softly in a foreign language. Ancient Greek? My lids grew heavy as the rhythm of her voice swept me into delicious unconsciousness. The last thing I remembered were those dazzling eyes.

******

A tall, dark beauty named Xena walks tentatively towards me. She's wearing her usual one-piece leather battle tunic with a matching set of breast armor, gauntlets, and arm bands. She smiles brilliantly at me. I approach her, but she won't let me touch her. I can just barely hear what she's saying. She leans in to kiss me on the lips. I close my eyes and purse my lips in anticipation.....

"Gabrielle, please look at me," Xena said. Gabrielle opened her eyes and saw her lover for the first time in a century. She hugged the warrior tightly and sighed 'Xena' into her shoulder.

"Little one, I'm glad to see you, too! I'm sorry it took so long to make contact, but your host is a little too reserved; repressed even." Xena caressed her bard's hair as she spoke.

"You mean she actually resisted your charms?" Gabrielle asked with a touch of surprise.

"Yeah, can you believe it? I had to seduce then hypnotize her before I could bring you out."

"Are you sure she's a descendant of mine? She seems so different. She doesn't even look that much like me. Her hair is a darker blonde - almost a mousy brown. And she's taller..." Xena stopped her bard before she could tick off any more points.

"Gabrielle, she has your most endearing qualities: propensities for speaking, writing, and whining," Xena said with a very big grin.

"Very funny. But really, she seems a little like you, too. Especially the affinity for swords and a stubborn streak. Could it be that she's a descendant from both of us?"

"Possibly. That could explain why the Fates practically dumped her in my lap. I had almost given up since it had been so long, yet there she was. Just standing there at the airport."

"Hmmm, if she is descended from you as well as me, be careful not to piss her off."

"I don't piss people off any more," Xena said defensively. Gabrielle dropped her chin and cocked her eyes skeptically. "Okay..not as much as I used to."

"Just teasing. Seriously, how do you plan to explain our situation to her? I can take over her body now that she's asleep. But will she share when she's fully awake?"

"Don't know. But for now, let's take full advantage of the situation," Xena said as she bent her head to finish the kiss.

******

The rays of the morning sun reflected off the snow drifts and directly into my face. I tried to pull the sleeping bag over my eyes to block out the light, but there wasn't enough slack. I cracked one bleary eye open, then coaxed the other one awake. Stretching out above my head, I felt the soreness of my arms and legs. I sat up in sleeping bag and looked down at my still sleeping companion. Alex's lips were slightly parted in relaxation. Impulsively, I reached down to caress the side of her face and brush my fingers lightly across her moist lips. She involuntarily closed them on my fingertips. I quickly withdrew them, not wanting to wake her.

I looked around and noted that the snow drifts covered half of the SUV. The doors of only one side could be opened. Fortunately, it was on my side. I fished out my discarded clothing from the corner, dressed, and went outside. Sunlight sparkled on the snow, rendering the landscape an almost blinding white. The pine trees were softly outlined with only a few green branches poking out of the white blanket. I breathed in the cold, sharp air and bent down to wash my face with the clean snow. This isn't so bad, I thought. What am I, nuts? I'm in the middle of the frigging woods! With a very strange, but fascinating woman. Well, I can't do anything about it now.

On a whim, I went back to the SUV and pulled out my sword and a sweatshirt. A few drills would loosen up those sore muscles. I stepped out into a clearing a few yards from the SUV and changed into the sweatshirt. I finished the first seven kata and was meditating about the past day's events when I heard the car door slam shut. I heard Alex's feet crunch through the snow toward me. I felt her arms around my waist as she whispered in my ear, "Good morning, I slept like a rock. How about you?"

As I turned around in her arms, she met me with a brief kiss. I pulled her arms away from me and stepped back a little. She seemed alarmed by my cool reception. "I may as well have slept on a rock; I hurt all over. On top of that, I'm missing out on the workshop, which is already paid for. I'm sleeping in the woods like a goddamned bear. And from the looks of the SUV," pointing to the half-buried vehicle with my chin, "and of the road," pointing in the opposite direction to the non-existent paved surface, "I'm going to have to go through this again!"

"You're certainly acting like a bear. Come on....was last night really so bad?" she asked as she caressed my face. I started to brush her hand aside, but decided to just hold it between us instead.

"Actually, I don't remember very much about it. I just felt unusually sore this morning." I rubbed my lower back to ease a knot.

"At least you can't see the teeth marks on your..." Alex clamped a hand over her mouth to shut herself up.

It was my turn to raise eyebrows. I twisted to glance down at my hip pocket. "On my butt? No, you didn't!" Alex just stood there with a huge toothy grin on her face. "Aah, you did!" I threw up my hands in exasperation.

"Hey, I've been vaccinated!" Alex said defensively, though still smiling. I cocked a skeptical eye at her.

At this point, I was very unhappy camper. I pushed my index finger into Alex's chest, slowly backing her into a tree.

"Whatever possessed you," Poke.

"To bite me," Poke.

"Anywhere?" Poke.

When she couldn't move any further, I looked up into her eyes, "Much less my butt!" Poke.

Looking down at me, she gently pulled my irate finger from her bosom and kissed it. Then she said, "For someone who's not much of a morning person, you're asking very astute questions."

"Huh?" I retrieved my hand to rub the back of my neck, "Things are going on that I don't understand. What exactly happened last night? I feel like I've been through a marathon."

"I'm not surprised considering that Gabrielle and I did give your body quite a workout last night," Alex said carefully, watching my reaction. It was simply, "Who the hell is Gabrielle?"

She sat me down and told me the long sordid tale of her illustrious ancestor, Xena the Warrior Princess and the love of her life, Gabrielle, the famous bard of Potedeia. I never heard of either of them. She explained how their souls were forever intertwined and therefore fated to be together. Throughout the centuries since their deaths, their souls have inhabited the bodies of a select few of their descendants. I'm supposed to be a descendant of Gabrielle for sure and possibly even Xena. Once inhabited, their descendants lived together much as their progenitors did in life. Alex finished her story with a beatific smile. "We're so relieved to have found you, Gwen. You're just perfect. Just perfect."

"Great, I'm perfect for what? Look, I don't share your enthusiasm. I'm not even sure you're completely sane. You're Xena's descendant and she's supposed to be you now? Let's say for the sake of argument, that what you've told me is completely true - "

"It is," Alex interjected.

"And I'm supposed to let Gabrielle take over my body, so you two can live in bliss the rest of my life?"

"That's how it usually works," Alex nodded her head. "You understand now?"

"I understand that neither of you two have considered the rights of the people you inhabited." Alex looked stunned at my words. "When Gabrielle took over, where was I? Where was my soul?"

"Your soul was still there. You were just unconscious for the whole time."

"Do I have to be unconscious for her to take over completely?"

"Yes. But she can keep you conscious. In that case, you would experience everything as if it were happening to someone else," Alex answered.

"Then I might as well be dead! If I let her take me over forever, she'd be living my life. I like my life. She can't just take it over! Both of you lived full lives, fuller than most, centuries ago. I have the right to live my own life."

"But we're destined to be together forever! The gods have ordained it. You can't refuse to let Gabrielle live again through you."

"Oh, yes, I can. Even if she lets me remain conscious, I won't have my own will. She'd still control everything. I'd just be aware of being trapped in my own body."

"Gabrielle should be the one talking to you. She's much more persuasive than I am," Alex said worriedly. "Gwen, I love you. You've got to understand!"

"Alex, Xena, whoever you are... we just met yesterday. You can't possibly love me. You love Gabrielle. You made love to Gabrielle last night, not to me. You've used me for your own selfish pleasure." Alex winced at that comment, but continued to listen.

"You easily seduced me and I probably even let you. I might even come to love you someday," I said as I stroked her hand. "But Gabrielle will always have your heart. Not me, not the person I really am. Remember how you hated how the gods meddled in your life. You're doing the exact same thing to me. You and Gabrielle will just have to work something else out." I turned, grabbed my coat, shirt, and sword, and stomped back to the SUV to get warm again. The look on Alex's face was like I had just killed her best friend. Maybe I just did.

******

Alex followed me back to the SUV. She grabbed my shoulder and spun me around to face her. "I need Gabrielle by my side. I can't go on living alone like this." Alex was practically pleading with me. A tear welled up in her eye and threatened to roll down a perfect cheek. I automatically reached out and brushed away her tears. She caught my hand and held it to her cheek. Oh god, I groaned inwardly. I snatched my hand away before she took anymore liberties.

"All right, don't get all mushy on me. I thought you were the tough one, Alex."

"Actually, that part of my personality has mellowed a lot. Before Xena merged with me, I was a real wuss. You know, a sentimental, simpering romantic. Her darker personality gave me some balance."

"So it is possible to 'merge' the souls in a body rather than have one dominate the other?"

"No, not really. The dominant soul still controls the body. But sharing the body is more like a merger if both souls want it. I wanted and needed it. It's only a problem if the original owner fights the process. Then it becomes possession," Alex's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Are you threatening me?" Rising up to the challenge, "I got news for you, kiddo. If I've inherited bits of both Xena's and Gabrielle's personalities, I'm stronger than either of you individually. Don't misunderstand; I'm sympathetic to your loneliness."

"As I am to yours," Alex said catching me by off-guard. Holding me by my upper arms, she asked gently, "Gwen, you have your life, your career. But who do you have? How do you wake up in the mornings? All cold and alone? Just like your nights?" I opened my mouth to wordlessly respond, how could you know? Her blue eyes shined into mine. "Who is your soulmate?"

I stood there dazed like a deer in headlights. How did she know what I've needed - wanted - all my adult life? Somehow, she knew about the one-night-stands where I sought temporary relief, only to wake up alone in the morning. She knew that sometimes I cried myself to sleep hugging a pillow, wishing it were a lover. I looked down into my heart and found the answer.

I told her the truth in a quiet voice, "No one."

"That's where you're wrong. I'm right here," lifting my chin so she could see my eyes. Alex reached out to touch my chest. The warmth of her fingers seeped through. "I can help fill that emptiness. We're not being selfish at all. What Gabrielle and I had when we were alive is a gift we bestow on our descendants: the gift of eternal love. You'll never be alone again."

Long minutes passed while I considered what she said. Taking a deep breath, I began slowly, "I suppose....we could come.... to a mutual agreement. There are some things about Gabrielle that could bring balance to my life."

"Yeah, like you could use some lightening up," Alex quipped, a smile turning up a corner of her mouth.

"Hmmph," I sniffed. "She could help me with my writing. Yeah, that's it. Make me more empathic. Who knows? Gabrielle may learn a few things from me." This could work, I thought. "Just because she's dead doesn't mean she can't learn new tricks. But I don't want her messing with my swords. Let's make a deal."

"I'm listening."

******

Alex and I dug the SUV out of the snow drift. The highway plows eventually came through and we were able to get back on the road again. Alex dropped me off in Vancouver. When we parted, she gave me a deep kiss that lingered for hours later. I told her that I wanted to see her again, very soon.

I think this compromise will work out just fine. I'll spend time with Alex because I want to. After all, she is hard to resist. Alex will have to learn to love me for who I am, not who she wants me to be.

Gabrielle will live vicariously through me, but without direct control. Her influence will be subtle and only with my approval. Gabrielle will just have to deal with the fact that I'm driving and she's riding shotgun. Good gods, was that noise my stomach? I wonder what passes for nutbread around here.....

Finis

#xena #xena warrior princess #xena/gabrielle #xena/gabrielle fanfiction #uberfic #fanfiction #femslash #mature #author: bongo bear

19 notes · View notes

alittletournesol · 5 years ago

Text

Kingdom Of Jinju {MinKey} part 28/33

Chapter 28 : Invasion

Night had surrounded the palace after the long and tough day combining a tumultuous council and a rather expected trial. The rest of the afternoon had been even busier, the King and Prince immediately laughing preparations for their now essential leaving to Mongje ; they couldn’t wait as much as they wanted, for it would mean to risk their life for even a longer time.

The further interrogation of the spy after her trial, in the snugness of her cell, had told more and more interesting details of her mission. She had been in town for a few weeks to quietly investigate the people, learning as much as she could about her target ; it had been a chance for her to be around the south side when soldiers had come to fetch every endangered person during that storm… it had been an open door to the palace for her, although she had still waited before trying to put her plan into action.

She had almost succeeded, the only flaw in this long thought plan being the unexpected presence of no one else than the Prince in the King’s quarters. She could have got rid of him in a flash too… killing both sovereigns on her own, something which had never been done before. A first time in the Five Kingdoms’ history.

Recalling these events, Jinki was lying on his back but even the softness of his mattress couldn’t sooth his tensed muscles. He felt as if he had failed his duty, his promise to defend his best friend at the risk of his own life ; he knew he hadn’t, yet it hadn’t been thanks to him. The day had been so hectic that he was only realizing at that exact moment that he had almost died, he had never been this close to death.

Even when he had almost been buried alive under the school’s ruins because of the storm didn’t feel like the scariest moment to reminisce. No, this time, it had really been a matter of seconds before his throat could have been slit, giving him only a few seconds to resist before dying, just enough to perhaps witness Minho’s murder. Would have he been strong enough to survive a bit more, to see Kibum die as well ? And Jonghyun, who had been there too ?

Although they were all out of danger for the time being, he still felt the weight of failure on his shoulders. Now he was surrounded by worries regarding their upcoming journey of the Prince’s hometown. He might be the General, but his appointment wasn’t distant ; an invasion needed solid leadership qualities, which he knew he had. Yet, never had he led an entire army, appointed lieutenants to represent him when his place was always as close to the King as possible.

It was an important organisation that required an utmost sense of strategy, and he was overwhelmed by this simple idea. Added to this, the young girl’s revelation itself was still resounding in his head and it was like voices were yelling all potential consequences at him… from the security of two persons he was attached to, to the safety of an entire kingdom if the invasion didn’t come as intended. After all…

“Jinki.” A gentle voice was calling him, but he couldn’t tell for how long. “Hey, baby, come back to me.”

Blinking a few times, the soldier got a grip and the blurred scenery around him started to clear until he distinguished the face above him, with its familiar sharp features and affectionate eyes. He frowned, noticing the glint of incomprehension in the usually bright irises he liked to look into until he felt at ease. Jonghyun’s blonde eyebrows were slightly furrowed, a disturbing curved line forming between them.

”Jonghyun…” He whispered before shaking a bit his head. “I’m sorry, I spaced out.”

“I noticed, it was like you didn’t hear me anymore.” The teacher replied, the corner of his lips suddenly raising a tiny bit. “Neither were you feeling me.”

“Feeling you…?”

Before he was in a position to ponder these last words, Jinki got hit by where he was at that exact moment and what he was doing before he had got carried away. He was completely naked, his legs up in the air with his thighs pressed around a just as naked, tanned body. Kneeling between them, Jonghyun was overhanging him with his palms facing the mattress on either side of his partner’s waist. And when the soldier made a slight move, the sudden stinging sensation he felt finished to wake him up.

“By the…” He choked and hid his face with both his hands after a quick look at the man staring at him. “I’m so… Don’t tell me I fell asleep.”

“I don’t know if it would have been better or worse, but no.” The teacher ended up smiling, holding himself on one palm to softly free his lover’s face with his other hand and look at him. “As you said, you just spaced out.”

“I’m so sorry, it’s not about you, I’m sure you were wonderful but I… I’m…”

“You are troubled, your mind is somewhere else.”

“Did you… finish…?”

“Of course not, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I kept making love to you while you don’t even realise it ?”

“Just… Forget about it, I’m ready, let’s do it.”

Saying this and without expecting an answer, Jinki cleared his throat and let his head and arms fall back on the bed. And he waited.

“Jinki.” The blonde man giggled. “We can’t.”

“Of course we can, my mind is here now and I’ll keep it here, I promise.” The other answered, using his heels to pull his lover towards him. “Come on.”

“No, I mean… you’re not hard anymore, it’s been five good minutes already.”

“What ?”

His eyes widening, the soldier lowered his head to watch his own crotch, gaping when he realized than he was indeed not responding anymore to Jonghyun’s efforts. That was a first time for him, and he was sure he had been hard when they had started… of course he had, otherwise his lover wouldn’t currently be inside him. A sort of shame invaded his already busy mind as his face turned red, and he quickly grabbed the free pillow to cover his whole head.

The teacher couldn’t help but laugh, although he wasn’t making fun of Jinki, this quite new situation for the latter being unfortunately amusing. His reaction was such a contrast with his usual way to handle whatever clumsy things happened to him… he was cute, and Jonghyun could fall for this over and over again. With an extreme delicateness, he moved backwards to free his own member and took a short moment to clean it before he walked on his knees to sit next to the other man.

“Why are you hiding ?” He asked, his hand reaching under the pillow to softly caress the soldier’s cheek with the side of one finger. “Won’t you show me your face ?”

“It’s… humph… shame…” A muffled voice just mumbled in return, making the other smile.

“You know, I remember a day, a few years ago, when I couldn’t get an erection although I was with one of the most handsome young men of Mongje’s nobility. We tried everything but I never got hard… so I told him to go away and I hid for the whole night and next day in my room. I even avoided him afterwards, because I believed he might think he wasn’t good enough for me to want him. Which would have been so wrong, actually, I was the most disappointed man in this story. Such a shame I couldn’t jump on that delicious creature that day.”

Jinki quietly listened to the blonde man’s story, which he told with such ease that he suddenly felt like a kid. At least, he had managed to get hard in a first place… was it really a good thing to compare them and benefit from it ? Slowly, the General pushed down the pillow and looked at his boyfriend, who was still waiting to see him with a smile on his face.

“He really didn’t reproach you with it ?” He asked, and his genuine curiosity just made him even cuter to Jonghyun’s so privileged eyes.

“Of course not, our body doesn’t always react the way we would want it to.” The younger answered, not ceasing his little touch on the other’s cheek. “Three days later, he begged me to stop after I made him come three times.”

“And now, you’re lying.”

“I admit, but at least it made you smile.”

When he was given a quick wink, Jinki laughed and relaxed, staring at the ceiling. The things he would do for this man… he couldn’t even list them.

“So, will you tell me what is burdening you that much ?” The teacher wondered as his fingers ran through the dark hair, starting to braid three thin strands without even realizing it. “It’s not good to keep it inside.”

“It’s just… everything that fell on us so fast.” The soldier sighed. “I don’t know what to think about it, it’s all so sudden and it’s quite a huge responsibility on my shoulders.”

“And these shoulders are stronger than you think. Nevertheless, it’s your very first invasion and it’s a consequential one. You’re scared ?”

“Not scared, rather confused about how to organise myself. And it’s not only about it, I mean… a war can occur. The Prince’s father attempted to murder our King, twice, and he almost succeeded the second time. We have proofs of Mongje being involved, and the girl confessed, she said his name. What if he doesn’t admit ? What if he refuses to submit ? We will have to besiege the manor, the town around, maybe the whole province… Is it really safe, is it— ”

“Alright, that’s enough, you’re going to pop a vein. I hear your worries, and they’re reasonable. But you’re far from being alone in all this situation, you don’t have to lock yourself and try to resolve everything by yourself.”

“What do you mean ? Everyone is so busy already, they don’t need to hear me whining while they’re getting prepared themselves. They’re even more affected than I am.”

“Yes, but there is someone you tend to forget when he’s the certainly the best person to consult when you need military and strategy advices. Tomorrow morning would be the good time, before you drown in your worries.”

“Who ?”

“Aren’t you the son of a man who used to be in your place ? And if I know my history well, a man whose own father besieged Dongjeo on behalf of his sovereign for a bit less than a year ?”

The soldier blinked a few times. It took him a few seconds to remember that indeed, his grandfather had led a siege during a one year long war that had opposed Jinju and the kingdom of the Gods’ Mountain… and he had brought his wife and children with him at that time. His youngest son later became a General in his turn for the late King Minhyuk. Jinki’s father.

“What time is it ?” He bluntly asked, unsettling Jonghyun for a moment. “It’s not that late, right ?”

“I would say one in the morning, sun sets pretty late during summer and night had been here for a bit more than an hour.” The other man replied, frowning. “Why ?”

“Father used to sleep early when he was on duty, but now that he’s retired… he might still be awake.”

“Wait, you’re not planning to visit him now ?”

“I won’t sleep if I don’t speak with him now. You’re right, the answer was just before my eyes, I can’t let it pass me by.”

Saying this, the General jumped out of his bed and grabbed his shirt to put it on quickly. In no time, he had his sword in hand and was running outside the room.

“Jinki, come back !” The teacher called him as he stoop up in his turn to reach the door, bringing the sheet with him to cover his naked body. “Lee Jinki ! Your trousers !”

* * * * *

The next morning, it was under a bright sun that the spy was taken out of her cell by two soldiers, her arms firmly held to prevent her from escaping. What they didn’t know, or didn’t want to admit, was that she definitely didn’t want to run away, for that prison was actually safer, more comfortable than the small room in which she had been living with her fellows for years.

Although she had acted tough during her trial, she couldn’t deny how she had eventually broken down when that guy with blonde hair had uncovered her secret so easily… was he even human ? Sure he had been present during her first questioning, right after she had woken up from the hit on her head. But he had remained quiet, all questions coming from the mouth of the one with a soldier attire — a high status, she had guessed.

She was still dumbfounded at how her deepest secret had been revealed in such a short time, but after a quite good night’s sleep, she could see her way through it. It seemed to be a good thing for her to be kept here, since she wasn’t destined for death despite what she had tried to do. It was still surprising, coming from the King himself, but now she felt like she owed him her life, when she had been the one almost taking his.

However, she didn’t want to hope some royal forgiveness or anything ; she was still an assassin, a spy for a province who wanted the death of the most powerful person in all the realm. She might be young, but she wasn’t stupid enough to blindly expect her life to suddenly smile to her. Nothing would bring her family back and she didn’t have anything to do in this world anymore.

As she was taken inside the palace, she couldn’t help but stand gaping at the inside architecture, the colors and decorations ; never had she had the honor to visit such a beautiful place. Her family wasn’t poor, yet they weren’t wealthy either, and it had been the reason behind their unfair slaughter. Not poor enough, not rich enough. She snorted alone. She was in between, she wasn’t part of a side of this society, and it felt worse than being forced to beg for food in the streets.

She was so lost in her negative thoughts that she kept her head lowered when both soldiers made her stop in a new room. She just heard footsteps here and there, the sound of chests and cases being put down and of rustling parchment. The almost imperceptible grazing noise on the paper was clear enough to let her guess it was the tip of a quality brush.

“Guards, let her go.” A voice interrupted her quiet study, but she didn’t look up for all that. “She can stand on her own, please leave us.”

Both men obeyed immediately and the girl almost sighed with relief when the strong pressure on her arms ceased. She heard them leave and close the door behind them, but it was evident that they were guarding it from outside. Still, it was one pressure less. As she rubbed her left arm with her fingers, she let her eyes wander to the side of the room, discovering a charming wallpaper with flowers. It looked so modest she wondered is she really was in the palace of the great King…

“You must be hungry.” The voice from earlier spoke again, this time drawing her attention and curiosity enough to make her look towards its owner. “I asked for fruits to be brought, please serve yourself.”

The young woman cocked an eyebrow as she eventually put a familiar face on the voice, which she eventually recognized as well. The Prince of Jinju himself was standing a few meters away from her, leaning on a long table covered with rolled out scrolls and maps. He wasn’t even looking at her but it didn’t feel rude, she could sense it wasn’t his intention ; he was just extremely busy, considering his status and the considerable packing that was happening in the room.

Every here and then, a houseboy or housemaid entered by a second door, either joining forces to carry a big chest or bringing smaller cases one by one. It was like a ritual, their sovereign would put his own paper work aside to take a close look at the contents of each box. He then told the servants if there was something missing, or something too much, and would draw a tick on one of the lists spread on the table. As soon as a package was announced ready, it would be brought elsewhere to make space to more.

A journey was definitely being prepared, and quite an important one, the girl thought. She didn’t understand why she had been led here though, for she wasn’t of any use.

“Tell me about yourself.” Kibum gently asked, gesturing to a maid at the same time and making her present the basket of fruits to the girl. “You’re tough today, but I suppose you were not as much before. It interests me.”

“I… Hum, I was just a child.” She replied after a long moment not knowing what to say nor do, while she accepted a peach and nervously started to peal it with her nails. “There isn’t much to say tho, it’s kinda boring.”

The way some servants looked at her with surprise in their eyes startled her, making her think she had said something wrong. They were staring at her, then at the Prince and her again… it was quite strange. However, she relaxed a bit when the raven haired man giggled and finally looked at her ; his eyes were gentle, he didn’t want to harm her in any way. He was sincere.

“Have you ever mixed with nobles ?” He genuinely asked. “My servants are surprised by the way you addressed me.”

“Oh, no I didn’t…” She stuttered, understanding the issue although she didn’t change her way of speaking. “I’m not a noble and they don’t really mix with us.”

“That is why you never learned how to speak formally. I will not mind it, after all, I do not talk this way in private either.”

“I can make an effort, your… Highness ?”

“Your Grace is enough for me, my dear, Highness will be for the King. Where were we ? Why would your life be too boring for me to hear it ?”

“As I said, I am no noble, your Grace. My parents lived from their farm and field, it was quite big but still not enough to make us rise a bit more. We never had a real status.”

“Yes, Mongje tends to be unfair in terms of status, that leaves a lot of people like your family and you hanging between the people and the nobility… I know that, unfortunately. You were a farmer, then. What were you doing to help your family ?”

Once he asked this question, a houseboy brought a new box and the Prince had to take care of it, yet he notified the girl that he was listening. She hesitated at first, not prepared to tell so many things about herself… but the man had a reassuring aura around him.

“It will sound weird but I was in charge of our field’s harvest.” She said, slowly eating her fruit between two sentences. “My father had back pain so he couldn’t lean on, and my mother… she suffered a gangrene because of an infection years before and a doctor cut half of her leg. They couldn’t do it.”

“It is a chance your mother survived an amputation.” Kibum commented before he realized what he had said. “Oh… my apologies, this was not the best thing to say.”

“It is… fine, I suppose ? My siblings were too young to do it so I was the only one.”

“You had siblings ?”

“Yes, a sister and twin brothers. They were younger than me, ten and six years old.”

“I presume your sister looked like you ?”

“Not really, but my brothers had my face. It was funny when we were he three of us sitting next to each other, my parents wondered whether I looked like a boy or they looked like girls.”

“The same happened with my older sister, we looked alike a lot. She had thiner features, though, so it was me who apparently looked like a girl.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister, your Grace.”

“I had one, indeed. She passed away last year.”

“I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine, now you know I can partially understand your pain. Shall we talk more ?”

The smile on the Prince’s lips was encouraging, but not pressuring, and the girl eventually returned it. As she watched him being kept busy with all these chests and boxes, tracing lines on maps with his fingers, she answered his questions about her and her family, her previous life. The more she talked, the more relaxed and at ease she felt, and she dropped her guard for the first time in years.

Kibum carefully listened and made sure to ask proper questions that wouldn’t invade her privacy too much. He was just curious about this young woman whose life had got destroyed so fast, so soon. He wanted to help her, or at least to give her a sympathetic ear, because he knew it could really have a positive effect on someone who had suffered as much as she had.

As time passed, he learned that her name was Siyeon and that she was just thirteen when her family had been killed by his father’s soldiers. The weather hadn’t been clement for a few months, which had resulted in less gatherings ; even the extra livestock they had decided to give up on hadn’t been enough to give her a proper income. They had barely received enough to eat, and when the tax levy had occurred, they had been unable to pay theirs.

The officer had been generous enough to grant them a delay, but purposely made it too short. When he had come back to claim the due money, a few armed soldiers were accompanying him ; Siyeon wasn’t home at that moment, for she was visiting a friend with the authorization of her father. The Prince felt a lump in his throat when he realized the poor girl had come home without knowing anything, and discovered her family slaughtered in their own house.

As she had told everyone during the trial, she had discovered it was the work of Lord Taehyun’s soldiers, thanks to the piece of parchment nailed on her door : unpaid taxes. These were the words that caused the death of two parents and their three children. She had mourned them for months, after burying them with the help of her neighbors ; although she had refused to depend on them when they had proposed her, they would still kindly brought her food when she would lack it.

The way she had become a spy had been pure chance : she had witnessed one of them during his mission, and he was almost as young as her, barely two years older. He hadn’t had the strength to kill her, for his investigation in the village to find his target had led him to learn about the slaughtered family. However, she had begged him to kill her so she could join her loved ones. He had refused, and instead, had brought her to the spies’ hideout. He had pretended that her natural skills with blades had almost had him killed, and she had been accepted in the order.

Trained, accommodated, fed… and paid, once her missions had started. Killing hadn’t been part of her job before her twelfth mission ; to assassinate the King of Jinju had been the sixteenth. The first spy who had failed this mission was the elder brother of the young boy who had brought her. She had failed too.

“But now that I think about it…” She ended up saying. “I feel relieved.”

“Because you failed ?” Kibum smiled. “Me too.”

“Will I stay in the dungeon forever, then ?”

“My husband is still thinking of a way for you to be free, but you understand we cannot release you into the wild.”

“I understand.”

“Speaking of the devil and he shall appear.”

Frowning, Siyeon got the allusion when the doors opened and she saw the King enter, his stately bearing being so impressive she couldn’t look at him for too long. He was so tall than she felt even shorter than she already was, and a bit overwhelmed. He was accompanied by three soldiers who stood by his side and startled the young woman as they grabbed hold of their weapon when they noticed her. However, she got reassured by the way the sovereign didn’t look at her and addressed the Prince, his voice soft and his tone gentle.

“Do they keep you busy, my Prince ?” He asked with a smile, his hand placed on the other man’s back. “You should take a rest. I was about to take a light meal, will you join me ?”

“With great delight, my King.” Kibum replied, not even pushing his husband away when feeling him so close in front of people. “But ask your question first.”

“My— you will have to teach me how to anticipate one’s intentions the way you do with me.”

“Perhaps, or perhaps not. What is it ?”

“I have not seen my General since yesterday evening, I might get worried if he does not show up soon. Is he with…?”

“No, he is not. But Sir Jonghyun told me he left his quarters really late at night to go find his father.”

“Did he ? I will send a soldier to him. I see you have company ?”

“Indeed, may I introduce you properly ? Her name is Lee Siyeon, and we talked a bit about her interests and life.”

The girl swallowed with difficulty as she didn’t know how to greet a King, but a quick glance at the three soldiers helped her. One of them was looking rather young and indulgent, and he quickly showed her a proper bow. Immediately imitating him, she kept looking at him, as he was lowering his hand to let her know how much she had to lean on. When he stopped, she stayed like this for a few seconds before standing up.

“It is a pleasure, Siyeon.” Minho said while Kibum showed a thumb up to the young soldier behind them — certainly a friend of his ? “I discussed your case with my private council : you will know soon about our decision, but you can already unwind. You will not go back to the dungeon.”

“Really, your Highness ?” She asked, maybe a bit too loud.

“Yes, we just have to make sure of some things more. Will you be patient ?”

“Yes, yes your Highness.”

“Good. Dear, could your maids perhaps give this young woman more decent clothes for the time being ?”

“Naturally.” The Prince replied before clapping his hands to call three young girls inside. “Sweethearts, I will need your help. Can you help our guest and find her some better clothes ? Also, please find a way to cover a bit the hole that was made in her hair… I do not want her to feel uneasy.”

As they obeyed, the three maids approached Siyeon and kindly gestured her towards the door. With one last look at her hosts, the former spy made sure she would be safe, and the Prince’s nod in her direction reassured her. When she left, both husbands looked at each other and quietly agreed to leave too. For his safety, the King couldn’t command the three soldiers to let him in peace, so he led Kibum to a private room ; once Taemin, Jongin and Wonsik made sure the room itself was safe, they went out and guarded the closed door.

The sovereigns sighed and let themselves fall on the couch, Minho placing his hand on his husband’s thigh while the latter rested his head on the strong shoulder. They remained quiet for a moment, until a few knocks at the door announced a houseboy who brought them some tea and things to eat. As soon as they were alone again, each savoring their snack, they eventually broke the silence.

“I see you took good care of her.” The younger started. “She seemed less terrifying, standing here shyly.”

“I made her comfortable, it wasn’t easy at first but I managed to make her talk more and more.” Kibum answered with a smile. “She really went through a horrible situation, she had very young siblings and she was helping her parents with so much care… I feel really guilty on behalf of my father.”

“Please don’t, it’s not your fault. We will protect her now.”

“How did the private council go ? Did they accept not to let her rot in the dungeons ? She’s so young, we must help her repair her mistake, have a new life…”

“I agree, that’s why I didn’t let them a choice. I asked them for advices about how to hire this young woman.”

“Hire her ? Minho, she might have been a farmer once, but she spent three years working as a spy, a very good one. You can’t make a common maid of her, it would be a very harsh sanction.”

“Listen before sermonizing me. Do you remember your lessons the ancient kingdom of Silla ?”

“Please, it was only a few centuries ago so it’s not that ancient. Of course I remember, with the reign of King Jinheung. He might be the one I know most things about. Why so ?”

“You must already know about the class of Hwarangs, then. But before them, he created a similar class of warriors. They were chosen according to the same criteria, beauty and skills, but the difference was that they were all women.”

“Minho, are you talking about Wonhwas ? We both know how they ended, two leaders of a group of female warriors, one murdering the other over jealousy, the class being abolished… What are you even thinking about, bringing it back ?”

“No, this would be a mistake to try recreating the past exactly as it was. But Wonhwas’ duty was to ensure the royal family’s safety, they were skilled warriors. And I think it would be a great position for Siyeon, considering her skills. I mean she almost killed us !”

“It’s not a bad idea, but it deserves more consideration than just one private council. Be reasonable, this really is an important decision to assign someone as a… a new version of Wonhwas. Can it wait until our return ?”

“I guess it can. Then, I was thinking of letting her come with us, after all, she knows things and we promised her to punish your father for what he did to her family. We could kill two birds with one rock. What do you say ?”

“I say this sounds reasonable, it will certainly trouble my father to see her by our side and not his anymore. And we will keep an eye on her that way. Leave me the task to tell her about this, she seems to slowly trust me so I have to go on.”

The King nodded and praised his husband about how involved he was about this girl despite the reason of her presence in the palace. He trusted him, Kibum had become enough of a cautious man to take right decisions ; his communicating and phrasing skills were also a precious asset, that couldn’t be ignored.

Once this was settled, they took a moment to quietly enjoy their tea, staying close to each other and playing with each other’s hand. Minho looked at their fingers and smiled at the thought they seemed to have been created to be interlaced, their respective phalanxes fitting perfectly between the other’s… however, they looked so empty. The King was wondering if he could change that, maybe by commanding the blacksmith to forge similar rings ?

He was so lost in these pleasant thoughts, playing with his husband’s fingers, that he got startled when the latter stood up.

“We should go back.” Kibum said. “I still have to study the maps and you must find Jinki to get our army prepared.”

“You’re so attractive when you tell me what to do…” Minho said with his deep voice, unable to refrain himself from pulling the other man against him, holding his waist. “I don’t like it when we barely see each other in a whole day.”

“I spoil you too much. Be an adult, my King.”

“You will regret asking me this.”

With a smile, the tallest of them captured his elder’s lips with his, ravishing his mouth with that passion that was never sleeping in him. Slightly laughing, Kibum didn’t refuse the kiss and even intensified it by sliding his hands under his love’s collar, caressing the warm skin of his neck. It was too short, but they couldn’t ignore their obligations in such a time…

“Now, let’s go.” The Prince said when he broke the kiss. “I will meet you tonight.”

“My bed always longs for your body.” Minho replied, brushing his nose against the other man’s. “To think we will be forced to sleep separately again, and for how long…”

“I was thinking… my parents used my taste for the male sex against me, in a way. It’s a fair game if we present ourselves as what we are. The royal couple of Jinju. After all, we will besiege them so we can do what pleases us…”

“I like this idea. Almost everyone in this palace knows about you and me since yesterday so why pretending the opposite any longer ?”

“I agree. Shall we, then ?”

“Yes, I will be honored to introduce you to my parents-in-law as my beloved husband.”

Laughing, Kibum stole one last kiss to the man he loved with all his heart, and they pressed their foreheads together for a few long seconds.

“When will we leave…?” He eventually asked Minho.

“In two days, at dawn.”

___________

Mongje’s walls appeared in sight after a few days of travelling, the great convoy surrounded and protected by hundreds of soldiers, if not thousands. A still considerable number of them had remained in Jinju to keep the kingdom and palace safe, while the Queen Mother was assuring the regency for as long as her son and son-in-law would be away. It was far from something new to her and Minho had faith in her, the decision had been taken with no hesitation.

The sky was a bit clouded, the soft smell of light rain perfuming the air, everything around feeling humid after the surprising shower. Feeble rays of sunlight were starting to pierce through the clouds, and Kibum was busy appreciating the returned warmth against the skin of his face. He was standing alone after requesting a moment with himself, and observed the place he had spent his whole life in, from afar.

Behind him, he could hear the murmuring of a river combined to both the King and General’s commands. The great organisation had started, the entire army being separated and their placements revised ; a few squadrons had already left an hour before, each led by two lieutenants appointed by their superior. They would soon positioning themselves in a way to surround the enemy’s territory, allowing the King, Prince and their personal army to start a diplomatic invasion.

From where he stood, the raven haired man could distinguish his parents’ manor, the off-white bricks and light brown roof presuming a welcoming atmosphere. Perhaps it was, he couldn’t know how all these noble guests had felt when attending an audience or a reception. Him, on the other side, had never felt welcomed in this home and didn’t remember most of his childhood. It was like his mind had protected him from bad memories by making him conceal three quarters of the young Kibum’s life.

Only remained the few happy moments he had spent with his sister or with some of his mother’s maids who had been surprisingly kinder to him that his own genitor. He smiled at the remembrance of the nanny who had literally raised Haneul and him, offering them an affection he would never forget. His elder had received love from both their parents, Lady Eungyu taking care of her, teaching her ladies’ manners with passion and sparkles in her eyes ; she used to be so proud of her first born.

This, until his birth. He still didn’t know why his mother never showed him as much love as to his sister. She acknowledged him, at the very least, but never had she hugged him when he would cry, hurt himself or just need reassurance. It was like all her maternal instinct had been given to her daughter, and there wasn’t any more for her son ; he never resented Haneul for it, because despite being manifestly the favorite child, she had always showered him with love.

She had replaced his mother, somehow, teaching him a lot of things when she was barely two years older than him. He remembered her being so mature for her age, willing to satisfy everyone around her ; her happiness rested upon others’ happiness, and it started with her younger brother’s. She had wiped his tears, taken him to their nanny when he would fall and scratch his knees, even secretly brought him pastries filled with red bean paste a young cook would bake just for them. Their taste invaded his mouth and Kibum licked his lower lip ; he would give anything to have one again, to share it with her.

But he was about to go home and find no one who loved him. The only reason that would have encouraged him to return to this place would have been his sister’s presence. And when he looked at this bright, beautiful manor, it looked sad and unwelcoming to him. He felt a knot in his stomach and gritted his teeth, his head lowering by itself and his eyes staring at his fingers. Mechanically, he started scratching the thin skin around his thumb’s nail, an old habit of his.

He got drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps joining him on the grass, and a small hand he knew too well covered his. As he looked up, he met Taemin’s sweet smile although his own eyes were emotional as well at the thought of going back there. If the Prince thought his life had been hard in Mongje, he couldn’t even imagine how his young friend was still looking so contented after all he had been through.

“You didn’t expect it to hit you like that, right ?” The young soldier asked, keeping his elder’s hand in his and looking at Mongje with him. “It feels like years.”

“Though, it’s only been six months since we left.” Kibum commented. “Did you expect so many things to happen within only half a year ? I’m a Prince, you’re a soldier… we’re not children anymore.”

“I don’t really miss my childhood, I prefer to leave it in the past. My future looks much brighter now, and so does yours. They sent a son, and today they will welcome the Prince consort.”

“Yes… Mother will have a heart attack when she will see you wearing this outfit, you know ?”

“She always hated me, I bet she would have liked me to remain a useless boy all my life, nobody. I’m more stressed about your father…”

“He never really showed his emotions, so don’t expect too much. He might look at us blankly until we announce the reason of our visit. Then, he might explode.”

“Do you remember when you would stand in front of me, to protect me when he was about to hit me ? Now, it’s me who will protect you.”

“You’re brave. You’ve always been, you didn’t need my protection back then.”

“I don’t think you need mine either today. But I’ll be there.”

“Me too.”

Looking at his best friend, the Prince smiled and pulled him into the kind of embraces brothers exchanged. It was strong, filled with emotions that didn’t needed words to be conveyed. It was a quiet way for them to give each other enough strength to face a place they would no longer call home, neither of them. They had a home, and had left it a few days ago to pay a visit elsewhere. They weren’t coming back as the Lord’s son and the half-adopted orphan ; now they were the Prince of Jinju and an elite soldier of the King’s army.

They wouldn’t fear anyone anymore.

“Can I join ?” A soothing voice interrupted their hug and made them turn towards its source. “Sorry to interrupt you.”

“Hyung…” Kibum smiled, approaching the blonde teacher and affectionately putting his hand around his nape. “You should have interrupted us sooner.”

“Both of you looked like you needed time alone to reminisce the past. I can sense you’re apprehensive of going back, am I right ?”

“Maybe we were, but I think we settled things.” Taemin nodded. “We’re different now, and Mongje isn’t our home anymore. But you…?”

“Me ? My home is wherever both of you are.”

“And the General, right ?” The Prince teased him. “I’m kidding. Will you stay by our side during the invasion ?”

“Of course. I will just take a moment to visit my parents, I think my mother has some things about royal blood to tell me. Mongje is too stuffed with secrets, it’s time for us to uncover them.”

The three of them sighed all together and turned their head towards the view, remaining quiet for a few seconds before Jonghyun took place between his two favorite students and held their back. Back to the beginning, he thought. They had gained ground since their departure, six months before, they had found themselves in Jinju and would now have to face the most difficult part of one’s growth : the past. It was up to each of them to let it take them back or to affront it, pushing it away for good.

The clouds were still covering the sky but it was less dark than a few minutes before ; the blonde man smiled alone as he saw a pleasant metaphor here. A town clouded by its secrets, but the sun was eventually making its way through them and enlightening a new place.

“Your Grace ?” Minho’s voice brought a halt to the three men’s observation, all of them turning around to look at him. “If you need more time…”

“It’s fine.” Kibum answered, exchanging a stare with his friends before slowly walking to his husband, a smile on his lips. “Is it time already ?”

“Yes, our troops must be positioned now. Do you still want to blow them away ?”

“Were you scared that I might change my mind ? My parents must see who I became and who they’ll be dealing with from now on.”

“Then, let’s get changed. We’ll be leaving in half an hour.”

* * * * *

Here and there, between the few houses and barns, both adults and children were keeping themselves busy. While men were making their respective livestock go back inside for the upcoming evening, women were already calling their children from the house’s door for bath and dinner. It was the end of another tough day for Mongje’s commoners, as they were called by the upper society.

They were living at the border of the town, with only a low wall made of white stones separating both areas. However, the people wasn’t disallowed to enter the nobility’s part of the province : they only had to walk along the wall until its end, which made a turning point to a whole new world. The more they walk to the North, the bigger the town got. Homes were built with higher walls, reinforced with stones and large beams ; between two opposite houses were hung a thick thread where a few paper lanterns were tied.

Although the sun was still far from completely setting, around six persons were wandering the streets with a stepladder and a long stick. It was a long process to light all lanterns up, but that maybe was the most charming thing in the town — at least, the only charming thing to Kibum’s eyes, who used to watch the show from his sister’s window when night would come.

At that moment of the day, dinner was starting to get prepared and it was a matter of around two hours before the sky would darken. The surroundings were quiet and peaceful, until a particular noise startled all people that were still outside. It was a dull and cadenced sound that went louder by minutes passing ; at some point, it stirred up curiosity and more and more persons went out to find the source of that surprisingly pleasant din.

They didn’t get disappointed.

It took a few moments before a silhouette became visible, followed by another one, two more, until dozens were walking towards them. The origin of the sound was revealed in two huge drums, each held by a man wearing a military attire ; they were hitting it once, hard, one after another to maintain a same solemn rhythm. When they reached the first commoners, the latter frowned as they wondered who they were… and found themselves even more taken aback by the sudden squadron of soldiers following them in perfect rows.

It was like a formal parade, but they weren’t wearing Mongje’s colors and symbol. Whispers rose in the growing crowd, and only grew louder when one recognized the well known pearl on the banners. Their guess was confirmed when the rows gradually separated to make space to what could be seen as the most impressive means of transportation the people had ever seen.

Entirely built from the strongest wood in all the realm, an imposing sedan chair was being held by at least a dozen of porters, followed by a few litters which were certainly transporting maids and houseboys. Although it was almost all covered by a pure white silk sheet, it was noticeable that the carrying poles placed on the men’s shoulders were made of carved gold. But what did impress everyone around was the whole new style of chair in front of their eyes. It wasn’t a cabin for royalty and nobles where only one person could sit, thus hidden from curtain-twitchers.

It was a whole banquette with not a single wooden wall to keep it inside ; twice larger, it could welcome two persons and, obviously, way more porters. As if the transportation wasn’t incredible enough, all got their breath taken away when there wasn’t any more doubt about their sudden visitors. There, sitting high on the seat and holding themselves upright with the utmost dignity, the Royal Couple of Jinju was being carried through the streets.

Surrounded by two good hundreds of soldiers to ensure their safety, they were inspiring power and respect. But the presence of the Prince, who was already known around here as the young Lord, was even a bigger surprise. He wasn’t the young man they had caught a brief glimpse at in the past, he was a whole different person. Still looking the same, with his thin features and his long almond-shaped eyes ; but his aura gave off more self confidence.

Without saying a single word, he glanced at every face he recognized from the time he would walk in town with his sister. It felt so weird to see familiar features after a period that had seemed way longer than six short months. Despite all his willing, he swallowed with difficulty when he saw a man look at him and immediately whispered to his wife’s ear. Sitting by his side, Minho’s sixth sense when he came to his husband made him aware of how he tensed up in no time.

Discreetly, he moved his arm to let his hand slide on the silk of his attire until it found the other man’s. Startled at first, Kibum almost removed his hand by instinct but remembered what they were ; before being a Prince, he wanted the world to know he was a husband. So he accepted the touch, slowly interlacing their fingers and appreciating the soothing pressure. If he was stressing out in front of the people, he would clearly pass out in front of his parents.

Getting a grip on himself, he let the porters carry them all along the low wall until the town, where the nobles had already gathered by hearing the parade coming their way. This time, there was even more people recognizing him, and he held his head high to avoid any stare ; not everyone here accepted the way he had been betrothed to the most powerful man in the real, him, a young man who didn’t care about governing. It was for the best not to show anything for now, they would see how worth and value later, by themselves.

Unexpectedly, the parade felt way shorter than their wedding’s one and less uncomfortable. The young Prince wondered if he had become used to all these traditions and show-off stuff… but this time, compared to his very first time he got carried that way around a town, he felt like he had found his niche. He was ten times more confident about his status and he could thank Minho for trusting him so blindly throughout the months.

However, he felt a small lump in his throat when they arrived at the gates of the manor and stopped. From afar, he saw Jinki step forwards and command Mongje’s sentries to open the doors to let his Royal Highnesses enter. The guards seemed perplexed, for this visit hadn’t been announced and manifestly wasn’t amicable. Not with such an escort. But he couldn’t refuse anything the General of the King asked ; he shouted to his fellows and the way to the manor opened.

“Send a page tell your masters that the King and Prince of Jinju have come for an audience.” Jinki told a sentry. “They will meet them immediately, by order of his Highness.”

Without protesting, the command was obeyed and in no time, the convoy walked forwards again, inside the manor’s frond yard. The latter was quite long, for the first independent rulers of Mongje had wanted to live far from the lively noises of population. It took them a few minutes to reach the small staircase that led to the house’s door, which opened almost at the same moment they arrived before it.

Kibum flinched when his parents went out on the door step, obviously in a rush considering the announcement that had just been made. His mother was as austere as he had left her, still wearing her usual mourning clothes and her face betraying her shock to see her son again. However, the Prince didn’t recognize his father ; it was like he had grown ten years older, his features were drawn and his eyes tired. His salt-and-pepper hair were now almost completely grey, his usual presence vanished.

“My Lady, my Lord.” Jinki said loudly. “Show your respects to the Royal Couple of Jinju.”

Once he said these words, Kibum’s parents stood gain for a few seconds before respectfully bowing. When they straightened up, the porters put the chair on the floor and one of them helped Minho to step down first. This time, he had enhanced his usual royal attire with a cape that fell on his back until his ankles ; the inside was a slightly darker shade of red than his clothes, but the outside was gold, reflecting the sun behind him in a way that his head seemed surrounded by a halo of light.

To his husband’s delight, he had refused the formal hat he was supposed to wear, to let his brown hair free, and the movement of his thick front bangs revealing the large yet subtle golden diadem encircling his head. For the first time in all his public appearances, he was wearing earrings that fell from his lobes to his jaw, golden as well but encrusted with thinly carved pearls that made his kingdom’s wealth and renown. Finally, around his right middle finger was a shining signet ring with the royal seal engraved in gold.

He hadn’t made more effort, for he knew he didn’t need more things to be recognized and respected, whatever the kingdom he visited. And more than that, he wanted to leave the spot for his husband to shine, especially here in Mongje ; Kibum had asked him to pull out all the stops, and the King hadn’t only accepted, he also had let him know he wouldn’t let him hidden in his shadow. He would let his Prince show himself as outstanding as he could be.

Still holding his head high and not sparing his parents-in-law a look for the time being, Minho skirted the chair and placed the footboard himself in front of his husband’s side of the transportation. With his habitual gallantry, he offered his hand to the still sitting man, who smiled to him before he slid his long fingers on the warm, soft palm. The King held them with care and started stepping backwards to lead his partner out of the chair, down the footboard until the bare ground.

Once Kibum was standing on his two feet, two maids who had left their carriage walked to him and arranged his outfit. And indeed, he totally stole Minho’s spotlight when he came forwards to stand by his side, his hand still held by the other man at waist level between them. The look in his parents’ eyes changed, from their first shock to utmost surprise when they eventually considered him after staring at the King since their entrance.

This time, the young Prince had had no intention to honor their host’s place by wearing its colours. He had chosen to wear what suited him best, bringing his own extra yet elegant touch to already rich clothes. He had brought his dark hair and light complexion out with an all emerald green attire, for he knew it was the perfect colour for him to wear — and the one his husband preferred. Yet, this time, he had used their short three days of preparation to make it better.

The royal tailor had meticulously sewn golden filigree designs all along the outfit, curved lines with their ends drawing the pearls of Jinju. It looked simple at first sight, but one more thing had been sewn on the shoulders : a cape, way longer than the King’s, so long that it was falling like a river of emeralds and graciously ending like a train. But that wasn’t all : the cape itself was embroidered with countless tiny pearls that made it scintillate under the luminous shine of the setting sun.

To make sure this sumptuous part of his attire would remain visible, he had asked advices to the Queen Mother herself about how to wear his hair in a magnificent way that wouldn’t make him look like he was just copying a queen. That was why she had sent her two maids who were responsible for most of her formal hairstyles, to accompany him and honor her by dress her son-in-law’s hair. Thus, he had them styled in an extremely complexed chignon, ornamented with very special jewels that were made of small golden pins joined together by thin golden chains.

As a surprise to honor his husband’s wish to show himself majestic, Minho had hired the royal blacksmith’s first apprentice to forge a golden tired, encrusted with pure emeralds shaped as diamonds. Kibum was wearing it in a way it was decorating the base of his chignon. To make a set, he was also wearing golden earrings with a tiny green stone on their exact center. And as his own final touch, the Prince had emphasized his long almond-shaped eyes with a thin trait of kohl.

He was transcendant, to the point he noticed his mother step forward to look at him as if she wanted to make sure such a magnificent person was her son. But he haughtily ignored her and looked at his father instead… almost getting startled by the sad smile he made out on the man’s lips. Never had Lord Taehyun of Mongje smiled at his only son, his strong charisma had always rested upon his undeniable authority and wish for perfection. Although that day, he seemed resigned.

“Your Highness, this is a surprise.” Lady Eungyu eventually spoke as she bowed. “A pleasant surprise, naturally, to receive you in our humble house. Had I known about your visit, I would have arranged our most luxurious quarters to suit your Highness.”

“Your willing is appreciated, my Lady.” Minho replied. “However, our visit has nothing to do with pure courtesy from a son and a son-in-law to their parents. Your Grace ?”

“Our unexpected visit rests upon a politic matter that we should discuss immediately, without letting you consult your few ministers beforehand.” The Prince pursued. “Would you please escort us to the room where you grant audiences, for we do not want to waste our time with excessive and unnecessary compliments.”

“Y-Yes.”

As she threw daggers at her husband, Kibum’s mother cleared her throat and clapped her hands for a group of pages to lead the way to both sovereigns. The latter didn’t need to be asked twice as they entered the manor, side by side and Minho always stopping everyone with his arm to allow his partner to enter another room first, following him right after. In no time, they reach a quite large room that only had two huge chairs facing a tea table on a stage, and pillows on the floor for visitors to kneel or sit while asking their requests.

Naturally, both King and Prince ignored them and walked straight towards the seats, taking their legitimate place. Swallowing with difficulty, Lady Eungyu stood straight with her husband next to her, both looking at these two figures of power and apprehending what would come next. Seeing their own son manifesting so much magnificence was troubling them, the woman seeming to be fuming.

“My Lord, my Lady.” Minho started, his voice loud and inspiring submission. “We will not beat around the bush : we have come unexpectedly to give you a chance to answer for a monstrous crime against the crown.”

“What are you saying, your Highness ?” His mother-in-law immediately choked. “A crime ?”

“Two, to be specific. I suffered two assassination attempts very recently, and if the first one was meant to raise our wrong suspicion about Baemyeong, we discovered through a thoughtful investigation that both assassins have been sent by order of Mongje.”

“With all due respect, your Highness, this can only be a mistake. We are ruling an independent province that is starting to financially struggle, due to the willing help we offered to your kingdom. We would definitely not have ways to pay anyone enough to murder someone as powerful as you.”

“So, you deny your implication in this extremely serious issue despite the proofs I could bring ?”

“Yes, your Highness. Mongje is innocent of any crime it is accused.”

“Dear ?”

“Certainly, my King.” Kibum hid a smile as he stood up, raising his hands towards the door to make Jinki and four soldiers lead Siyeon inside while protecting her. “Please let me introduce you to Lee Siyeon, the skilled young assassin who failed to assassinate both my husband and I a few nights ago.”

Lady Eungyu’s eyes became filled with a growing anger as she saw the girl, and she bit the inside of her cheeks when turning around to face the sovereigns again.

“She is an impostor, your Highness, we have never seen her before.” She affirmed. “Will you believe a commoner’s daughter instead of two persons from nobility ?”

“Are you sure you have never seen her before ?” The King repeated, his tone obviously implying that he had smelled a contradiction.

“Yes, I swear it is the first time I see her. We receive commoners often here for random requests, so we tend to know everyone by now.”

“Then how do you know she is the daughter of a commoner ?”

The woman stuttered as she started to answer, looking around her at Siyeon, the guards, then the King and Prince again. When she saw the smile on her son’s lips, she couldn’t help but burst out.

“Say something !” She yelled at her husband. “Will you remain quiet while we’re being accused of attempted murder ?!”

“You suddenly seem in need of support, Mother.” Kibum calmly commented.

“What wife wouldn’t need a husband’s support ?! This is fraud ! You, just talk, by the Gods !”

“Do you think it is reasonable to shout that way in front of our sovereigns ?” Lord Taehyun eventually answered. “Do you think their suspicions will reduce by looking at you losing your temper ?”

“How dare you ! It was you, right ? You sent those assassins because all you care about is power ! Power, power, and always power !”

“Your Highness, your Grace.” The man ignored his wife and looked straight into the eyes of his son. “We will show ourselves law abiding about all your questions regarding these crimes. However, we would like, according to our rights, to request for a trial as tomorrow’s first thing.”

“Very well, my Lord.” The King agreed. “Still, this trial will happen in the way I decide : starting this moment, the manor and Mongje are under my authority. For the time you will be accused of attempted murder, you will have no right to communicate with your wife or with anyone else. You will thus be confined in your respective quarters, guarded by my own soldiers until the trial. Do you agree with this ?”

“Yes, your Highness.”

“What ?! Taehyun !”

Before Kibum’s mother could throw a stronger outburst of anger, Lord Taehyun bowed to Minho and Kibum, and turned away to let the royal guards escort him to his quarters as announced. Lady Eungyu protested at first, screaming to imposture and scheme. When they were both out of sight, the Prince allowed himself to sigh deeply and lean on to take his face in his hand. Looking at him, Minho smiled and caressed his back.

“You know when you’re a teenager and your parents scold you in front of a friend of yours ?” The oldest man asked. “You feel ashamed, right ?”

“Sure, the biggest shame ever.” His husband replied.

“Well, it’s nothing next to the shame I’m feeling right now. She rarely throws fits like this but when she does… you saw.”

“I was surprised, though. She was really aggressive and even shouted at your father, but him… he was calm and quiet.”

“Yes, Father was… different. In a general way, I mean. It’s like he lost all his presence, all his power. How old do you think he is ?”

“Looking at him today, I would say sixty.”

“He’s turning forty-eight in five months.”

“You’re kidding ?”

“I wish I was. There is something wrong, he’s not the father I used to live with. We haven’t been in good terms all my life but this… this is not normal.”

Minho looked at his husband, not knowing what to answer. He could clearly see how Kibum seemed troubled by his father’s attitude, which was so different from everything he had seen throughout his childhood and teenage years. When they had exchanged about each other’s lives and families, both sovereigns had mentioned their respective parents’ behaviour and personality, and the King remembered how he had learned about the Lord of Mongje being someone virulent and with a certain attraction for power.

But he had found himself dumbfounded when seeing such a quiet person, almost reserved and looking quite submissive to his wife. The latter was his complete opposite and fit more the description the Prince had given from his dad… this sudden turnaround was bringing a new light on this issue. But they would have to wait for the trial to verify their thoughts.

______________

A few hours later, Minho was walking in the manor with Jinki, who was reporting to him about the confinement of his parents-in-law. Although Lady Eungyu had shown herself vehement at first, she had eventually accepted the command and was now in her quarters with no one else but a maid — the King couldn’t refuse that. On the other side, Lord Taehyun had almost left his escort behind by heading to his room voluntarily and without being asked twice.

It was now time for the sovereign of Jinju to take a good rest after both a long journey and the audience right after their arrival. Their goal had been reached : they had hit their mark with their clothes and presence, and Kibum had shown his parents how he had reborn since his leaving. The General notified his friend than before going to visit his family, Jonghyun had confessed to him that he had never seen such expression in the Lord and Lady’s eyes when looking at their son before.

If there was admiration, the woman had still a glint of frustration shining in her irises, for it wasn’t this child of hers that she would have liked to see in such a position. Her husband, though, was giving the teacher a hard time ; he couldn’t figure him out as easily as usual, with this quite surprising attitude. Minho took notes of this information, assuming that if both his Prince and the blonde man struggled to recognize Lord Taehyun in the person they had had before their eyes earlier, there must definitely be a mystery to resolve.

As he wished a good night to his General, the King asked guards if they had seen his husband somewhere around or if he had gone to sleep already. He was immediately guided to the back yard which was made of the manor’s gardens and the vault where Kibum’s late ancestors were lying. Thanking his informers, the tall man headed to the shown direction and noticed how a tiny part of the garden was full of Kibum’s favorite flowers — surprising, why would his mother grow them, considering her lack of affection for her son ?

He was about to enter the vault when he caught a glimpse of an emerald train behind it. Frowning, he skirted the monument and found his husband offering him his back, standing with his hands on his stomach, head lowered and eyes closed. Slowly, Minho approached him and stood by his side without disturbing him ; the Prince was communing with himself before a recent tomb, beautifully covered with different sorts of white flowers.

It could only be his sister’s grave.

Without a word, he let the other man peacefully reminisce this close member of his family while himself looked at the tea table placed in front of the tomb. Incense sticks were slowly burning in a bowl, resting next to a portrait of Kim Haneul. The more he observed her well drawn features, the more he understood why his husband always said he looked like a less perfect version of his older sister.

She was as beautiful as him, though her features were thiner, but their eyes and lips were shaped exactly the same way. It was surprising but sent a strangely familiar impression that tended to warm Minho’s heart.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she ?” Kibum’s voice drew him out of his reflection.

“Yes, really beautiful.” The other man replied with honesty. “You look alike so much it startled me.”

“Our faces are almost the same, yes, though I’ve always been considered the less pretty. Only our nanny didn’t make us compete about our looks like our mother did. I remember she felt sad that I was always told that my sister was more beautiful than me, and she invented a bedtime story for me to never feel unworthy despite the harsh words I could hear.”

“She created a story just for you ? She’s sweet.”

“Yes, she was the sweetest woman, after Haneul. The story she told me was about a female duck who laid seven eggs, but when the little duckings escape their shell, one of them didn’t look like the other. It was all grey, with tousled feathers and clumsy feet, it really was an ugly ducking. Its mother and siblings still took it with them but they weren’t really affectionate, and the poor thing kept being rejected, even by other birds that sometimes hit it with their beak.”

“A strange story.”

“It’s not over. The ugly ducking was unhappy, it felt awfully different and was resigned that he wouldn’t find its place in the world. This was until a storm happened and it got separated from its family, the river’s flow taking it away. The next morning, when rain stopped, it was alone on the bank and felt even sadder… but its cries lured a splendid swan that immediately embraced it when finding it. It happened that the ugly ducking was in reality a baby swan, its egg had been moved from its nest to the duck’s. As soon as it found its real family again, it realized his worth and grew up to become the most beautiful swan of the area.”

“That’s beautiful, and to think she created only for you to not think you were an ugly ducking is lovely.”

“Yes… I was thinking about it right now because my sister loved it as well, although it wasn’t for her. And somehow, I have the feeling that the ugly ducking I once felt I was, has become a swan by staying by your side.”

“The most gracious and gentle swan ever.”

With a smile, Minho pressed his lips against his husband’s temple, the latter smiling in return and nestling against the other man’s chest. They remained a few minutes before the grave, Kibum comfortably telling some stories about his sister and him, when they were interrupted by a soldier. As they turned around to look at him, they got startled by the man accompanying him : Lord Taehyun.

“How did you escape my guards’ surveillance ?” The King frowned. “You shouldn’t be here, you showed yourself willing to respect my rules earlier and here I find you outside your quarters by night.”

“I know my own house better than your guards, your Highness.” The man replied, his tone still as calm as during the audience. “Be reassured, they have no idea that I am not in my quarters anymore.”

“A secret passage…” The Prince whispered before raising his voice. “Why are you here, Father ?”

“I wanted to do something good for once in my life, because I am tired.”

“What…?”

Kibum’s eyebrows furrowed and he observed his father’s features, widening his eyes with surprise when he noticed this sad smile again… and tired, shining eyes.

“My son, you grew up well.” Lord Taehyun said. “It is not thanks to me, and I came to regret it as soon as I watched you leave home, a few months ago. But from what I saw, you became an even more impressive person than I thought you would.”

“Father…” The Prince stuttered. “Why are you saying this now ? If it’s a way to move me before your trial, it won’t work. I’m not as weak with my emotions as before.”

“My intentions are pure, son, and I feel beyond apologetic that you had to come with such news for me to realise my wrong actions as a father. I’ve been a wrong parent to you, but I want you to know that it was all against my will.”

“I beg your pardon ?”

With a sigh, the elder man joined his hands together on his chest before he approached his son. Instinctively, Minho stepped forwards but his husband raised his hand to stop him, staring at his father.

“Explain yourself.” He commanded. “Enough of lies.”

“Yes, enough of lies.” His father replied, meeting his eyes. “I would never lie to you while standing before my daughter’s grave.”

“Please, talk…”

“I owe you the truth, and I wanted to say it before the trial but not in your mother’s presence. It is a good thing that I find your with his Highness, because there are too many lies remaining in this place… and I’m tired of carrying their weight alone on my shoulders, I can’t handle them anymore.”

“I am listening, my Lord.” The King nodded, even more troubled than before as he could sense the other man’s sincerity in his wish to confess so many things.

“I am not the descendant of Mongje’s rulers’s line.” Taehyun sighed again and looked at his son. “We made everyone believe it at the time, but the truth is, I have been raised by your grandfather like his own son.”

“My grandfather ?” Kibum repeated. “But I only have one, Mother’s father. You told me your parents had died.”

“Yes, they had, when I was a young boy. But they were your grandparents’ closest friends, members of the highest family in our province… the real heiress is your mother, and our wedding had been arranged before we could even walk.”

“What does it mean…”

“It means that all the power I was pretending to chase, all that violence I showed to base my authority… it wasn’t my choice. But your mother wanted to grow her power as the heiress in silence. At first she didn’t care about all of this, it changed when your sister was born : she had given birth to another heiress, that’s when she started seeking for even more power through me.”

“What changed ?” Minho asked, feeling that a plot twist was about to happen.

“Kibum’s birth. According to Mongje’s laws, if the ruling family has only one child, they will rule whatever their sex is. But as long as there is a son, eldest or not, he becomes the heir. And your mother didn’t accept that, she wanted Haneul to be the next ruler, not you.”

“But mother never stuck her nose in Mongje’s affairs…” The Prince protested, dumbfounded. “She hated politics, she was always leaving everything to you, to the point you never had time for us ! And the few moments we spent together, you were… you weren’t a gentle father. What is the reason behind that, then ?”

“I would have loved to be that gentle father you wanted, Kibum. But… I made a mistake that gave your mother enough control over me to use me as her muppet. I was threatened.”

“What did she use against you, my Lord ?” The King asked. “It could be a real proof in our own issue.”

“I will tell this in good time, tomorrow during the trial. I’ve seen my son on a throne today, and the strength, the courage he showed made me feel ridiculous, a coward. That’s what I’ve been for so many years, a coward that has fallen into an evil woman’s clutches. She has done everything in secret, she had hidden so many things from you… and I will be able to prove later that she is the perpetrator of your attempted assassination, your Highness.”

“Then, why coming now if you are going to reveal everything tomorrow ? It makes no sense.”

“Because… because I wanted to show you something, something I don’t want to hide anymore. That’s the only secret I have, the only one I managed to keep from your mother. Something she doesn’t know, and that will help you tomorrow to show her real self. I hid it from her instead of getting rid of it like she commanded me to.”

“Show us immediately.”

The tension in the back yard was growing, but Lord Taehyun didn’t need to be asked twice ; he asked the sovereigns to follow him and even told them to bring as many guards as they want to prove his good faith. He then led them to the front door, heading out of the manor’s area to walk through the town’s streets. Fortunately, no soul could be seen at that hour, and their late walk went unnoticed.

After a few minutes, they stopped in front of a small house that seemed completely common. Minho and Kibum looked at the elder man while the latter approached the door and hit four times against the wood… with an original rhythm. It was a code, as to notify the person living here that it was him coming and no one else. This already looked quite strange and only made the atmosphere grow more tensed. After a few seconds of silence, the door was opened to reveal a familiar silhouette, that made Kibum gasp.

“Nanny ?” He asked, in disbelief when he recognized the gentle features of the now sexagenarian woman. “I thought you had left the province years ago ? What is all of this ?”

“I did, my boy…” The old woman replied. “Look at how grown up you are… I am so relieved to see you healthy after so many years.”

“Son, your nanny indeed left, but I made her come back.” Lord Taehyun explained. “I needed her because she took good care of your sister and you, and she has my full trust.”

“Is it the day, my Lord…?”

“Yes, it has come. Can we enter ?”

“Naturally, please come.”

Despite their heart urging them to run inside and discover what was being hidden from them, both Minho and Kibum waited for their elders to enter and followed them inside. When the door was closed behind them, the nanny led them through the living space, until a small room without any door, the inside only hidden with a thick curtain.

“I must warn you, she’s asleep for now and we shouldn’t wake her up.”

The woman’s words achieved to kill the Prince’s last ounce of patience ; as soon as she lifted the curtain, he headed inside first, followed by his husband and father. And what he saw rooted him to the spot. There, in the obscurity of the small room, was a crib. Because fo the silence that had fallen on them, they could all hear the almost imperceptible breathing of the small being that was fast asleep with a sheet on the tiny body.

A baby.

“Who… Who is that ?” Kibum managed to ask although his voice didn’t leave his throat, his words coming out in a whisper.

“That, my son…” his father answered, “is your niece. She came to this world on the day your sister left it.”

__________

#minkey #minho #key #kibum #shinee #fanfic #historical #kingdom of jinju #jongyu #jonghyun #onew #jinki #taemin

16 notes · View notes

chuffyfan87 · 5 years ago

Text

Hiding. Part 43a

Cowritten with @disastrousintention.

-x-

The first couple of weeks passed without further incident mostly due to the two couples avoiding each other. However Louis had insisted that they all went out for the day at a local zoo - his favourite place to visit. So that was how the four adults and six children found themselves stood by the zoo's main entrance on the Tuesday morning.

“Please can we all just get on for Louis’ sake?” Charlie asked as he eyeballed Baz.

"I'll be civil if she stays out of my way." Baz hissed.

“Fine!”

Duffy sighed as Charlie walked back over towards her. If she was honest she would've rather stayed in bed but she knew how important this trip was to Louis. "What's she said now?"

“That she’ll be civil as long as you stay out of her way.” He sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Fine by me!" Duffy groused, swallowing a yawn.

“Tired sweetheart?” He asked.

"I'm fine." She forced a smile. "Don't fuss, let's have a good day for the kids' sakes."

“You look exhausted.” He said to her and kissed her cheek. “Too much excitement.”

"Thanks." She glared at him.

“Still beautiful though!”

She smiled and then pulled away slightly as he put his arms around her waist.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

"Let's not antagonise her, eh?"

Charlie groaned softly but nodded, agreeing not to antagonise Baz.

They finally reached the entrance gate and paid the fee before heading into the zoo.

Louis couldn’t control his excitement and neither could the other children!

Trying to stop the children running off in different directions proved to be a military operation.

The twins decided they wanted to go see the farmyard animals. "Please!!" They begged.

Charlie went with the twins to see the farm animals.

Duffy watched Charlie and the twins walking away, grateful not to have to join them but at the same time she could feel Baz's eyes boring into her. "Emily, boys, what do you fancy going to see?"

“Lions!” Emily replied with a giggle.

"OK, let's go see the lions." Duffy smiled.

Unfortunately they arrived at the lion enclosure just as feeding time was beginning. The stench of raw meat hit Duffy like a train, causing her stomach to lurch. She swallowed back the nausea and tried to keep her breathing shallow and through her mouth. Now was not the time to be sick!

Peter watched his mum closely and frowned. “Are you ok?” He asked, noticing his mum had gone very very pale!

She swallowed once more. "I'm fine, just a bit tired that's all."

“You look really pale!”

"You are worse than your father for fussing sometimes Peter!"

“I can’t help it.” Peter replied.

Emily was standing on her tiptoes to try and see the lions chase the food. "Mama up!" She whined.

Duffy sighed as she picked her daughter up, struggling to get a good grip on her as the little girl was wriggling so much.

Emily was wriggling all over the place, making it harder for Duffy to keep a hold of her.

"Emily please! I'm going to drop you if you don't stop!"

Emily stopped almost instantly.

After a few minutes Duffy began to look around, hoping that Charlie and the twins would rejoin them soon as, despite her small stature, Emily was getting heavy to hold.

Almost like he could sense she needed him, Charlie returned with the twins.

The girls came running over, full of excitement over what they'd seen.

“Mummy! Mummy!!” The twins shouted.

She stumbled back slightly as they collided into her legs.

“Oops daisy.” The twins said in unison. Charlie frowned seeing how pale Duffy still was. “What’s wrong? You’ve gone white.” He whispered.

Duffy was distracted by the girls giggling and gossiping together. She absentmindedly rubbed her lower back and ran her hand through her hair as she yawned. "Hmm?"

“You look so tired.” He replied. “Maybe a nap when we get back?”

"Seriously will everyone stop telling me how awful I look? I am aware that I look like shit thanks!" She hissed.

“Baby!”

Her eyes went wild as she glared at him and then nervously glanced around the others in their group. "Just drop it Charlie!"

“Fine!” He sighed sadly.

They moved on to look at some other animals but the atmosphere remained tense. It then came time to go for lunch. The kids ran straight for the nearest fast food stand. Charlie was silent. Just focusing on the children.

Duffy let Charlie organise the kids getting lunch, hoping that he wouldn't notice that she wasn't eating.

He noticed but didn’t comment. She’d already ripped his head off once before.

Unfortunately Baz didn't have the same sense. "You still trying to lose weight? I would've thought you would've given that up as a lost cause years ago!" She sneered.

"No... I..." Duffy stuttered, unsure how to answer.

“Baz! Quit with your childish behaviour will you?!” Charlie snapped.

"Fine!" Duffy grabbed the burger from the table and took a large bite, glaring at Baz as she did so.

“You always have to ruin everything, don’t you?!” Charlie said to Baz, “You’re never happy unless you’re bringing someone down. And you wonder why I never stayed faithful? Maybe it was because you are a sour cow who’s goal is to be better than everyone!”

Duffy wasn't listening to Charlie, she was too focused on proving a point to Baz. She'd barely finished eating when she realised what a mistake that had been.

He watched Duffy as she legged it from the table to the nearest bathroom.

"Well, that's a good example to set to the kids." Baz remarked sarcastically.

“She’s not bulimic.” Charlie replied sharply.

"I wasn't suggesting she was." Baz replied suspiciously.

“But you were insinuating it.”

"Well why else would she be puking after eating?"

Charlie shrugged.

Suddenly a thought hit Baz. "No!" She gasped.

“What?”

"Oh you've got to be kidding me..!" Baz muttered as she stormed off in the direction of the toilets.

Duffy looked up from where she was lent over the sink as the door flew open.

“You’re pregnant?” Baz asked, although she’d already knew the answer.

"No." Duffy replied weakly.

“Of course you are.”

"Its probably just something I ate. I've felt lousy for a couple of days."

“Are you and Charlie trying for a baby?”

"No." She lied. She dried her hands and heading back towards the door, hoping Baz would drop her interrogation.

“Maybe you should do a test to be on the safe side?” Baz suggested, her tone softening slightly.

"Like you care. Just leave me alone." Duffy replied as she headed back over to the rest of the group.

Baz sighed and returned to the table and rest of the group.

Charlie’s hand squeezed Duffy's knee, reassuringly. Now wasn’t the time to ask her about the sickness.

Peter looked anxiously from one parent to the other. He really wanted to make sure his mum was OK but was nervous to speak.

“Are you ok, Peter?”’ Charlie asked.

The lad nodded. "Mum?"

Duffy forced a smile. "I'm OK." She attempted to reassure him.

Peter nodded but didn’t believe his mum. He was worried. He pushed the plate of food away, “I’m not hungry anymore.” He said.

"You need to eat something Peter. Please!"

“I’m not hungry. I feel sick.”

"Charlie can you go with him?" Duffy asked.

He nodded and went with Peter to the bathroom.

Once they reached the bathroom Peter turned to his dad. "Are we still pretending in front of the others then?"

“What do you mean?” Charlie asked.

"I'm not stupid."

Charlie smiled sadly and pulled his son into a hug. “I don’t even know myself yet, Peter.”

"I was starting to hope you'd talked her out of it." Peter admitted.

“You don’t want your mum to have another baby?”

"Not if she's gunna get really sick again."

“I know.” Charlie sighed, “We’ll be okay. I promise.”

"You don't believe that any more than I do."

“Your mum and I have faced many, many challenges and we’re still together, aren’t we?”

"I suppose." Peter shrugged.

“Your mum’s probably just feeling worse because we’re in a new country.”

Peter nodded and walked back outside.

Charlie sighed. “Love you son.” He said quietly.

Peter stopped and looked back over his shoulder, a shy acknowledging smile on his face.

Charlie caught his son’s eye and smiled.

The next couple of hours passed without further incident, though to Duffy it felt like time had gone into slow motion.

Soon it was time to say goodbye and head off home, in opposite directions. Once the children were home, dressed and in bed and asleep, Charlie insisted that Duffy had an early night.

"Please stop fussing, I'm fine!" She insisted as she sat on the edge of their bed.

“You’re pregnant.”

"No I'm not!" She insisted weakly.

“The tiredness, paleness, mood swings, the sickness.” He replied, listing off her symptoms.

"I was sick once." She countered.

He sat down beside her and rubbed her lower back, “I’m sorry if I annoyed you earlier.”

"When?"

“All day.” He smiled.

"You didn't. I was just tired and grouchy. If anything I should be saying sorry to you."

“It’s ok. It’s fine, honestly.” He kissed her cheek and smiled.

"Is Peter OK?"

“Yes honey.”

"He really thought we'd fall for that feeling sick routine? He should know we can spot a chancer a mile off!"

Charlie laughed, “He worries about you.”

"You're as bad as each other!"

Charlie shrugged. “I can’t help it.”

"So I've noticed." She chewed her lip.

“I love you, Duffy.”

"I love you too." She lent forward to kiss him but just before their lips met she pulled back and dashed from the room.

#chuffy #charlie and duffy #charlie fairhead #lisa duffin

3 notes · View notes

foreverwayward · 6 years ago

Text

“Wayward Hearts” Season 2 Chapter 12: All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1

Summary: After the sudden death of John, Sam and Dean, along with Riley, continue their quest for vengeance. As Sam and Riley’s powers continue to grow, the three young hunters find themselves closer to the Yellow-Eyed demon than ever before. The strength within themselves and their loyalty to each other will be tested as they are left to fight their families’ lifelong war alone, unaware that unimaginable evil will lead them to face darkness itself as they carry the weight of their fathers’ legacies.

Masterlist

Word Count: 9,748

Content Warning: language violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

The sun had set a few hours before Dean rolled the Impala down a side dirt road. Boston’s ‘Long Time’ blared through Baby as he pulled her to a stop in front of a small diner seemingly in the middle of nowhere. It was tiny, and definitely only frequented by the locals. Freshly made mud and large, deep puddles from the recent rain surrounded it. Still, soft droplets fell from the darkened clouds.

“Hey, don’t forget the extra onions this time,” Dean told Sam over his shoulder as his brother sat in the backseat before handing him some money.

Sam sighed with frustration. “Dude, we’re the ones who’re gonna have to ride in the car with your extra onions.” He got out of the car and closed his door.

As Riley scooted in her seat, she told Dean, “he’s getting a butt-load of food. I’m gonna go help.”

“Uh--would you...would you actually just stay here with me for a second?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

Dean chuckled nervously. “Man, I’m so bad at this stuff.” He leaned across the seat and opened the glovebox before pulling out a small, square box. Dean smirked and handed it to Riley.

“Wait...this is for me?” she asked in surprise.

“Well, I realized I don’t really do enough for you...and your birthday’s next week. I just--I didn’t wanna wait that long to give it to you.” Dean smiled with a shrug. “Open it.”

Riley lifted the top of the box to reveal a silver cuff bracelet. She grinned as she picked it up and inspected it. It was smooth all around and when she looked at the under side of the bracelet, there was an engraving. ‘Forever Yours.’ Riley couldn’t find the words to say as she sat quietly, just holding it in her hands.

But Dean was getting antsy in his seat waiting for a response. When she didn’t say anything, he let out a soft sigh of disappointment. “Shit. You hate it don’t you? Man, I knew it was lame. I just never--”

Her lips crashed into his with a smile still on her face. As Riley pulled away her eyes glistened up at him, making him weak in the knees. “I love it.” She slid it on and admired it on her wrist. “It’s perfect, Dean. Thank you.”

“Happy early birthday, sweetheart.” Dean gave her one last quick kiss, still trying to stop beaming with excitement that she approved of his gift. “I love you--you know that, right?”

“I know…” Riley replied dramatically as she quoted Han Solo and Dean chuckled. “Alright, I’m gonna go help Sam,” she started. “Be right back.”

Riley got out and closed the door behind her as Dean called out to her.

“Hey! See if they got any--”

“Pie!” she laughed. “I know. I know. I’m in the mood for some too. Be right back.” Riley jogged across the small, wooden makeshift bridge over the large ditch that had been filled with rainwater.

Dean nibbled on his bottom lip as he watched her scurry inside.

Through the window, he could see her meet up with Sam at the counter as they placed their orders. The older Winchester would never get tired of that girl or the way she made him feel.

He chortled to himself softly. Dean couldn’t help how genuinely happy Riley made him.

The stereo began to go staticky and he tapped the gauge trying to bring back the music. Lights that surrounded the small café began to flicker and Dean instantly began to worry.

Looking up into the diner, he saw that Sam and Riley were no longer there.

Dean got out of the car in a hurry and raced to the door. He swung it open only to see one of the restaurant’s patrons dead at his booth, covered in blood. The jukebox played through the deafening silence inside.

Dean drew his gun and slowly went inside. “Sam?” he called. “Riley?” As he came around the corner of the counter, there on the floor laid the cook and waitress; both with their throats slit open and drenched in warm pools of blood.

The backdoor was only a few more steps away and the hunter opened it to look outside. All he could see where the bare trees from the cold weather, soaked in rain.

“Guys?”

As he went to close the door, he could feel his hand had touched something. He turned his palm to look and noticed yellow dust. “Sulfur…”

The demon had been there. Dean’s eyes widened at the realization and his heart pounded in his chest.

Hurrying back to the front, he called for them both again and again. “Rye!...Sammy!” Dean began to shake with fear as he stared out into the quiet and empty darkness. “Riley!” he shouted at the top of his lungs in terror. “Sam!”

------

Sam laid still and unconscious on a small, worn wooden bridge that had collapsed into the mud.

As his eyes opened, he shot up in shock, realizing he wasn’t in the diner anymore and that the sun had already risen.

He warily stood as he surveyed all around him. Sam was in the middle of an old and abandoned town. There was no sign of anyone anywhere and it looked like something out of an old western movie; just like the ones Dean always watched.

Sam rubbed the mud off his hands and onto his pants before grabbing his phone from his pocket. The cell beeped letting him know there was no reception and he huffed in disbelief.

The mud slushed beneath his boots as Sam walked through the strip of the forgotten buildings. Most were broken down or boarded up with clearly no one being inside for quite some time.

Suddenly, Sam heard a creaking noise nearby and grabbed a plank of wood nearby to arm himself. Ready to fight, he neared the corner around the building and jumped out, brandishing the plank.

Andy, the psychic they had all met before, jumped and yelled out at the hunter’s near attack.

“...Andy?” Sam asked, in disbelief.

“Sam? What--what are you doing here?” he stumbled over his words with panic. “What am I doing here?”

“I don’t know…”

“Where are we?!”

“Andy, look--calm down.”

“Calm down?! I can’t calm down! I just woke up in fucking Frontierland!” Andy’s hands ran over his hair nervously as his head shot back and forth looking around.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Honestly? My fourth bong load,” he feigned a laugh, still scared. “It was weird. All of a sudden, there was this really intense smell. Like, uh…”

“Like sulfur?”

“How did you know that?”

Sam’s attention shifted as his mind went back to his family. “Dean...oh, man. Riley…”

“Your--your brother and sister?” Andy asked hopefully. “Are they here?”

“I don’t know if they are. I don’t even know if they’re…” Sam didn’t dare finish that thought.

The loud sound of a woman crying for help came from further down the stretch. The two looked at each other, acknowledging they would check it out as they jogged in the direction of the pleas.

As they reach a small abandoned structure, pounding came from the door that had been locked shut with a padlock.

“Hello?” Sam hesitated.

“Help me! Please, help me!” the woman begged.

“Okay, we’re gonna get you out. Hold on.” Grabbing a large rock nearby, Sam bashed the lock until it broke. He opened the door and out came Ava; yet another psychic he had met and who had gone missing months before. “Ava?”

She nearly collapsed into his arms as she wept. “Oh, my god. Sam!”

“So, I guess you know each other,” Andy added awkwardly from the side.

“How--how did you find me?”

Sam shook his head, confused. “Wait. Ava, have you been here this whole time?”

“What whole time? I just woke up in there, like, a half an hour ago.”

“Well, you’ve been gone for five months. My brother, Riley, and I have been looking for you everywhere.”

Ava smiled with discomfort thinking he had to have been joking. “Okay, that’s impossible, because I saw you two days ago.”

“You didn’t. I’m sorry,” Sam replied.

“But...that makes no sense. That’s not--oh, my god! My fiancée, Brady! If I’ve been missing for that long, he must be freaking out!” Tears streamed down her dirty face and she jumped finally noticing Andy.

With an uncomfortable wave, he met her gaze. “Hey...Andy--also freaking out.”

“Okay,” Ava turned to Sam. “What’s happening?”

A familiar voice called out from the other end of the town. “Sam!”

Sam’s heart leaped as he spun around to see Riley in a full sprint in his direction.

He caught her as she nearly jumped into his arms and Sam pulled her up close. Riley’s feet dangled for a second as they embraced. Putting her down, he looked her over for any injuries. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no. I’m okay.” Riley sighed. “Ugh. I’m just so glad I found you. Where’s Dean?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. But I do know one thing, I know what the four of us have in common.”

Again, another voice called from the distance; this time, a deep, male voice. “Hello? Anybody there?”

“...maybe more than four,” he added.

Riley, Sam, Andy, and Ava ran across the way, following the voice. Around the corner of the final building of the stretch was a tall, dark-skinned man in a military combat uniform. Beside him was a girl with long blonde hair.

“Hey...are you guys okay?” Sam panted.

“I think so,” the strange man replied.

“I’m Sam. This is my sister, Riley.”

“I’m Jake.”

“Lily…” the scared blonde answered.

Riley looked them over and was overwhelmed by the amount of static that she could hear around her. There were too many psychic kids together in one place. It was almost ear-piercing.

Then the overwhelming anxiety, fear, and shock from all of them rolled in all at once, making her almost gasp for air. Riley groaned and tried to focus it away.

Sam noticed her reaction and reached out to touch her with concern.

“I’m good. I’m good.” Riley looked back up at the others. “Are there any more of us?”

Lily shook her head softly. “How did we even get here? A minute ago, I was in San Diego.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” Jake started, “last night, I went to sleep in Afghanistan.”

Taking a step closer, Riley’s eyes squinted with all she was battling in her mind, though she remained unmoved. “Let me guess. Everyone here is 23 and has some kind of ability.” Lily and Jake looked at her perplexed. “Started over a year ago. All of a sudden, you could do things that you never would have even imagined were possible.” They both nodded.

Sam jumped in, “I have visions. I see things before they happen.”

“Yeah, me too,” Ava told them.

Andy, being the quirky guy that he was, was more than happy to share his story. “Yeah, and I can put thoughts into people’s heads. Like, make them do stuff. But don’t worry, it--I don’t think it works on you guys.” He stopped and chuckled to himself. “Oh, but get this--I’ve been practicing; training my brain, like meditation. So now, it’s not just thoughts I can beam out, but images, too. Like, anything I want. Bam! People, they see it. This one guy I know--total dick, right? I used it on him: gay porn--all hours of the day,” Andy laughed, so pleased with himself. “It was just like--you should have seen the look on his face.” The other five seemed unamused while some even appeared to be disgusted by him. Andy stopped laughing and cleared his throat. “Uh...okay, then.”

Lily nearly shook with rage. “So, you go, ‘Simon says give me your wallet’, and they do?” Her eyes darted to Sam and Ava. “You have visions? That’s great! I’d kill for something like that. I touch people? Their hearts stop,” Lily yelled. “I can barely leave my house. My life’s not exactly improved. So, fuck you all. I just wanna go home.”

“We all do,” Sam replied calmly. “Look, we’re here whether we like it or not. So, we better figure out a way to deal.”

“Who brought us here?” Andy demanded.

“It’s less of a who--and more of a what.” Sam paused and bit his lip knowing what he was about to tell them, probably wasn’t going to be received well. “...it’s a demon.”

------

On the side of some highway, Bobby’s truck sat in front of the Impala as he and Dean both poured over maps on Baby’s hood. The sounds of distant traffic going by and the loud winds swirled around them.

“Bobby, you gotta be joking,” Dean huffed. “There’s nothing on the map. Seriously? No demonic signs, anywhere?”

“That’s what I’m sayin’. Nothin’. Not even low-level shit like exorcisms. It’s gone totally quiet.”

Dean nearly rolled his eyes, but still raised his voice in frustration. “Well, how the fuck are we supposed to find them, huh? Just close our eyes and point?” His phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket as he flipped it open, seeing the caller ID. “Ash, that you?”

“Yeah,” the drunken hick replied. “Listen, it’s a big negatory on Sam and Riley--”

“Oh, come on, man!” the hunter barked. “You gotta give us something. We’re looking at a three-thousand-mile haystack here!”

“Look, Dean--I did find something but,” he paused and spoke more quietly. “I can’t talk about it on this line.”

“No, no, no, Ash. I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Well, make time,” Ash nearly yelled. Again, his voice hushed. “Not only does this almost definitely help you find your brother and your girlfriend, this is--it’s huge. So get here. Now.” The line went dead as he hung up.

Dean closed his phone and looked up at Bobby. “I guess we’re going to the Roadhouse. Come on.”

------

Back in the abandoned town, the others tried to absorb what Sam had just told them.

Jake crossed back over to the two hunters, his voice full of disbelief and anger. “So, we’re soldiers in a demon war to bring on the Apocalypse and for some reason, we’ve been picked? I mean...why? Why us?”

“He’s right,” Ava agreed. “I mean spoon-bending and psychics is one thing but...demons?”

“You know you sound absolutely bat-shit, right?”

Riley jumped in, no longer having the patience to argue. “Hey! Look, we don’t really care what you think. But if we’re all here...together, that means it’s starting.”

“No,” Jake shook his head. “No way. I’m not dealing with a bunch of whack-jobs. I’ve heard enough. I’m outta here.”

“Jake!” Riley called, as the soldier ignored her and disappeared out of sight. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Sam, we can’t make them believe us. But if we don’t follow that dumbass, he’s gonna get himself killed.”

Sam nodded in agreement and they all chased after him with the hunters leading the way.

They stopped at the center of town, waiting for a signal of where he had gone. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw movement and turned in its direction. He pointed at the old schoolhouse, “there.”

Everyone rushed over and as they went inside, there was Jake. His eyes wide with fear as an evil looking little girl growled at him. Her face contorted and her nails grew into claws as she stood ready to charge him.

There was an old metal fireplace near the entrance with an iron poker leaning against it. Riley grabbed it and swung it like a baseball bat through the creature.

It turned a large cloud of dark smoke and darted past the others through the doorway.

“Don’t know how easy you catch on, Jake...but that was a demon.” She looked at her brother. “Sam? ...Acheri, you think?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m thinking.” Sam gave his attention to the others. “Acheri are, uh--demons that disguise themselves as a little girl. But that still doesn’t tell us where the fuck we are.” Sam’s gaze went to Andy, who looked rattled and his eyes were locked on the ground. “Andy? You still with us?”

Andy stood dazed and slowly put up a finger. “Gimme a minute. I’m still working through...‘demons are real’.”

The group walked on as they followed Sam and Riley. Clearly, the two were going to be their best bet to get out of there alive.

In front of one of the abandoned buildings stood a wooden structure holding a rusty bell. The shape of a large tree with spread out branches was etched onto its front.

Sam looked more closely at the old bell as their breaths formed clouds with their every exhale. “I know that bell. I think I know where we are, Rye,” Sam told his sister. “Cold Oak, South Dakota. A town so haunted, every single resident fled.”

“Oh, good. Gotta love a surprise field trip,” she replied in sarcasm. “Why the hell would the demon bring us here?”

“I was wondering the same thing.”

Lily stood, fidgeting with her long, chain necklace. Her feet shuffled beneath her as her anxiety grew and Riley could feel it becoming too much for her. “You know what? I don’t give a damn why. Clearly, the only sane thing is to get the hell outta Dodge.” Blowing off the rest of the group, Lily began to stride away.

“Lily, wait!” Riley called out. “There’s nothing around us but miles of woods--no way you’ll find your way out.”

“I don’t care. Beats hanging out here with demons.”

“We don’t even know what’s going on or have any clue how many of them are out there.”

The blonde woman spun around trying to hide her shaking hands and nearly yelled back. “We? There is no we. I have nothing in common with any of you! You don’t know anything about me!” Lily paused and struggled not to cry as she choked on her words. “I--I accidentally touched my girlfriend.”

All five of the others were stunned and at a loss for words.

Riley took a few steps toward Lily, hoping to connect with her. “I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever,” she sniffled. “I feel like I’m in a nightmare, and it just keeps getting worse and worse.”

Looking at Lily, Riley waited for her to meet her gaze. When Lily’s eyes found, hers, she walked towards her. “Sam and I--we’ve lost people too. His brother--my boyfriend? He’s out there somewhere right now and…” her voice trailed off and she looked over at Sam. “The truth is, we don’t even know if he’s okay. I know this is bad. But, please, we’ve gotta stick together.” Riley was nearly pleading with the woman she had only just met, afraid for her safety.

“Fine,” Lily replied softly and with no expression.

Riley nodded and feigned a tight lip smile as she went to Sam’s side. They lead the others on, back into the town as the hunters searched for answers.

“We’re looking for iron, salt, silver--any kind of weapon,” Sam told them all.

“Salt is a weapon?” Jake asked.

“It’s a brave new world, Jake.”

Andy’s shorter legs worked double-time to keep up with the two large men. “Well, I hope there’s food in this world of yours ‘cause I’m fuckin starving.”

As they all entered one of the structures, Lily stayed behind. She waited for them all to file inside before she briskly wandered off on her own toward the outskirts of town.

------

Dean and Bobby had made their long drive to the Roadhouse. They pulled into the familiar dirt lot only to find the saloon completely scorched. It had been burned to the ground. Only small parts of the building still stood as the smoke wafted from the recent fire.

“...what the fuck?” Dean almost prayed.

The two looked at each other in shock as the Impala parked.

Slowly, with hesitation and fear, they got out and walked toward what remained of the Roadhouse. The hunters walked carefully through the debris and rubble, looking for what had possibly happened. Everything had been destroyed. Burned body parts jutted out from under the fallen roof and the smell of death lingered in the air.

Bobby’s hand drug down his mouth. “...my god.”

“You see Ellen?”

“No. No Ash either.”

Dean crouched down at the sight of something he had seen before. On the wrist of a charred arm, was a watch. One that he knew belonged to Ash. “Oh, Ash...dammit!” he nearly growled.

------

Inside one of the buildings in Cold Oak, Riley and Sam rifled through all the could find, looking for something to arm themselves with.

Ava sat nearby rubbing her head, trying to soothe herself. Slight groans of discomfort came from her as clattering noises continued from the search.

“Hey, you alright?” Sam questioned with concern.

Ava kept her eyes shut. “Yeah, I just--I don’t know. I got dizzy.”

“You sure it’s not some kind of--”

“What?” she interrupted looking at him. “Some kind of ‘freaky vision thing’?” Ava sighed. “No, more like ‘I’d kill for a sandwich’. I haven’t eaten since...well, who knows? Don’t worry though. Except for everything that’s happening, I’m totally fine.”

Riley’s boots lightly stomped on the floor as she came from the other room. “Here, this is all I could find so far,” she handed a hunting knife to Sam.

He waited, unsure if he should take it from her and she gestured for him to. Sam relented and took it before putting it into his waistband as he handed Riley the iron poker.

“You guys!” Andy yelled from nearby. “I found something!”

The hunters, Ava, and Jake went to answer his call. Andy was holding up two large sacks labeled ‘SALT’ as he giggled goofily, thrilled with what he had found.

All their attention went to the sound of a loud, distant thud and they all froze.

Riley looked up at Sam with a realization. “Lily’s gone.”

Before Sam could respond, the sound of an evil childish giggle came from around them. It was as if was in the room with them and outside all at once.

“Lily!” they took turns shouting. “Lily!”

They all walked out the front door and down the steps to the dirt road. Their eyes caught a glimpse of movement as they honed in on the water tower down the way. Hanging from it, was a rope; and at the bottom, Lily swung from a noose by her neck. She was already dead with her feet dangling and her body slightly moving in the cool breeze. The group stood still in horror.

“Oh, my God!” Ava cried out as she covered her mouth in shock. “Okay, that’s officially--Sam, she’s dead! She’s dead! You said we were chosen for a reason. That is not chosen! That’s...killed!” She shook her head rapidly and turned with certainty to leave. “Okay, we have to get out of here.”

Never looking away from Lily’s hanging corpse, Andy swallowed hard. “Yeah, I second that emotion.”

“I’m not sure that’s an option,” Jake said plainly.

Sam took Ava’s shoulders to stop her and for her look at him. She needed to see how serious he was. “Lily was trying to leave. The demon’s not gonna let us get away that easy. We’ve gotta gear up for the next attack.”

“Gear up?!” Ava barked through her tears. “I’m not a soldier. I can’t do that!”

“Well, if you wanna stay alive, you’re gonna have to.” Sam’s stare went back to the body that spoke loudly as a warning to them all. “Let’s go.”

Jake’s military protocol kicked in and was very matter of face as he told them, “I’ll go get her down.”

Ava disappeared back inside, the heels of her boots clicking on the worn wood as she cried. Riley anxiously fiddled with her useless phone before tucking it back into her jacket. “What I would give for cell reception. I wish Dean was here.”

Suddenly, Andy was struck with a thought. “You know, you may not need one. I’ve never tried long-distance before, but do you have anything of Dean’s on you? Like--something he touched?”

Looking down at the silver cuff on her wrist, Riley fiddled with it briefly before taking it off. That beautiful moment they shared in the Impala the night before was all too fleeting. At least she still had a piece of him with her.

“Here,” she uttered softly.

Andy took it from her and noticed the inscription inside before glancing up at her. He realized in that instant how much the two meant to each other. He cleared his throat and refocused.

“Alright…”

------

Still in shock over their find at the destroyed Roadhouse, Bobby and Dean went through the wreckage. They searched for clues on whatever Ash had been trying to tell them, but with no luck.

The hunters were finally ready to get back into the Chevy, their hearts heavy with sorrow and worry.

“What the hell did Ash know? We’ve got no way of knowing where Ellen is, or if she’s even alive. We’ve got no clue what Ash was gonna tell us. Now, how the fuck are we gonna find Sam and Riley?

“We’ll find them, Dean.” Bobby was determined to be as unmoved as possible in front of the boy he helped raise. Dean needed a father figure at that moment and Bobby would be damned if he didn’t give him that comfort. Not a second passed before Dean clutched at his head in pain. “Dean?”

The young hunter doubled over and groaned as a flickering image quickly flashed through his mind. It was the same bell in the abandoned town the psychics were trapped in.

“What was that?” Bobby questioned with concern.

“I don’t know,” Dean panted. “A headache?”

“You get headaches like that a lot?”

“No. Must be the stress.” Dean let out a breathy and uncomfortable chuckle. “I could have sworn I saw something.”

“What do you mean? Like a vision? Like what Sam gets?”

“What? No!” he snapped. “Come on, I’m not some fucking psychic.” Abruptly, Dean was hit with another vision and he fell against the car in agony as he cried out. There was another image. Only that time...it was of Sam and Riley.

“Dean? Dean!” Bobby rushed to him and took his shoulder. “Dean? Are you with me?”

Dean laid on the hood, trying to catch his breath. “Yeah, I think so. I saw them. I saw them, Bobby.”

“...It was a vision.”

“Yeah. I don’t know how, but yeah,” Dean stood up and squinted his eyes. “...whew. That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels.”

“What else did you see?”

“Uh… there was a bell…”

“What kind of bell?”

“Li--like a big--a big bell,” Dean fumbled over his words, still feeling drained. “...with some kind of engraving on it, I don’t know.

“Engraving?” Bobby’s face flattened as he asked, “was it a tree? Like, an oak tree?”

“Yeah...exactly.”

“I know where they are.”

------

The air in the town of Cold Oak stood still with a biting cold. It was enough to nip at their noses and make the tip of their fingers slightly ache.

Jake, Riley, and Sam were in the aged and forgotten barn, searching for pieces of iron to arm themselves with. Old machinery filled the open space and they were pulling off weak and worn pieces that would meet their needs.

As Sam and Riley struggled, Jake yanked off a bar with his bare hands as if it was nothing. They stopped their efforts and looked up at him in awe.

Realizing he had just revealed his abilities, Jake paused and looked at his new found weapon. “I’m not Superman or anything. It’s no big deal.”

“You were in Afghanistan when this started?” Sam asked, realizing how little they knew about the soldier.

“Yeah, I started getting headaches, and then there was this accident. This guy flipped his vehicle on a bad road. He got pinned underneath. I lifted it off him like it was nothing. Everybody said it was a fluke adrenaline thing.”

“But then you did it again, right?”

“Bench-pressed 800 pounds, stone-cold calm. I never told anybody, of course. It was just too crazy.”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah. Crazy’s relative.”

“I’m starting to get that.” Jake looked over at Riley and tilted up his head as if letting her know he was talking to her. “I really appreciate what you both are doing, by the way.”

She looked at the tall man across the large, rusted tractor between them with curiosity. “What are we doing exactly?”

“Keeping calm--keeping them calm. Especially considering how freaked to hell you both really are. I’ve been in some deep shit before, myself. I know the look.”

After a long pause, Sam leaned against the tractor and sighed. “You wanna know the truth? I got this brother, right? And he’s always telling me how he’s gonna watch out for me, how everything’s gonna be okay. That’s how he’s been with Riley from day one too. You know, kind of like we’ve been telling the others.”

“Sam,” Riley’s voice was soft and solemn. “I don’t wanna admit it. But I don’t know if Dean’s right this time. I don’t think it will be okay. I’ve felt that way for so long now because something big is coming--bigger than any of us have ever seen. It’s gonna get bad, Sam.” She felt almost guilty for admitting that in front of Jake, but he seemed to understand more than the rest of the group. “I don’t know if we’re gonna make it out of this.”

Her brother wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to his side, lovingly. “Me neither, Rye. But all that matters is that we make sure they believe it.”

Jake nodded at what Sam had said. The three soldiers stood in mutual silence, knowing that night might very well be one of their last.

------

Back inside with Ava and Andy, they all split up to line the building’s doors and windows with salt. Lit candles they had stumbled upon were their only light except for the full moon that cast down over them and bled through the windows.

“My horoscope said I shouldn’t have gotten out of bed,” Ava joked with a scoff. Dried tears stained her face as she stared off. “How you guys doing? Holding up?” she asked the hunters.

Sam glanced to Riley who just shrugged. “Yeah, I guess we’re alright. You?”

“Not so alright.” She paused and then studied the other woman in the room. “So, Riley...what’s your story?”

“Rye...she uh--she’s not exactly like us,” Sam answered, turning to his partner with a quirky smirk.

“I’m an empath and a telepath. I have a weird connection to people’s souls and pulled a demon out of someone once. I think I killed it.” Riley folded her arms as she leaned against the wooden walls. “But it was crazy; there was a glow and something else I can barely remember...it was like I went ‘Jedi’ or ‘X-Men’ all of a sudden.”

“That’s friggin’ awesome,” Andy chuckled as he re-entered the room.

Ava looked at her with curiosity. “Wait. Why is yours so different?”

“Honestly?” Riley asked. “I don’t know.”

“Why us? What did we do to deserve this?”

With no real answer to her question, Sam tossed out the first thought that came to mind. “Just lucky, I guess.”

“If it wasn’t for bad luck, we’d have no luck at all. I just can’t wait for this all to be over so I can just pretend it never happened. I just wanna curl up with Brady and watch bad TV.” Ava noticed Riley and Sam shift uncomfortably at what she had said. “What is it? Do you know something that I don’t?”

Riley sucked in her lips, gaining the strength to tell her the truth as she took slow strides towards Ava. “I wish so badly that I didn’t have to tell you this, Ava...”

“Tell me what?”

“When the demon came for you in your house that night, your--” Riley felt sick as she paused. “Your fiancé--I’m so sorry, but he didn’t make it.”

Ava seemed to buckle under the weight of what Riley had just told her. “No, that’s…no!”

As she began to sob, Riley took Ava in her arms to comfort her. Her tears soaked the hunter’s shoulder as she shook.

Still, there was a strange feeling in the air. Ava’s emotions poured from her like a broken faucet, and yet...Riley couldn’t feel any of them.

------

Later that night, the entire group sat silently in the main room. Fear, anxiety, and dread hung over them like a dark cloud and engulfed them all. Some had fallen asleep, while others were too scared to. Both Sam and Riley sat at the base of the wall, leaning against each other. Their eyes fluttered as they struggled to stay awake.

In an instant, in the corner of the room, stood the yellow-eyed demon. Riley and Sa grabbed the other’s hand as their breaths hitched in fear.

“Jake! Behind you!” Sam pointed and shouted.

But Jake stood completely composed, not hearing a single word.

“Howdy, kiddos,” the demon smirked.

Riley’s eyebrows scrunched. “We’re--we’re dreaming.”

“What do you say we all take a little walk?” The creature stared down at them both as its eyes glowed through the darkness.

Reluctantly, the two stood, still holding onto their sibling. As the demon walked outside, they followed close behind. Their eyes filled with hate and a desire to destroy the thing that had ruined their lives.

“You two are awfully quiet. You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Sam’s jaw clenched as he got closer to the demon. He bared his teeth as he seethed, “I’m gonna fucking tear you to shreds, I swear to--”

It chuckled. “When you wake up, tiger, you give it your best shot.”

“Where’s Dean?” Riley bit.

“Quit worrying about Dean. I’d worry more about yourselves.”

“Why? You gonna kill us?”

“I’m trying to help you,” Yellow-eyes said turning toward them. “That’s why we’re talking. You’re the ones I’m rooting for.” It continued to walk on.

Sam looked down at Riley quickly before questioning, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Welcome to the Miss America pageant. Why do you think you’re here? This is a competition. Only one of you crazy kids is gonna make it out of here alive.”

“I thought we were supposed to be--?”

“Soldiers in a coming war? That’s true--you are. But, here’s the thing: I don’t need soldiers. I need a soldier. I just need the one. But when it comes to you two, I’m willing to make an exception.”

Riley shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

Stopping again, the demon spun around to smile malevolently. “Well, I couldn’t just come out and say that, could I? I had to let everyone think they had a fighting chance.” Its yellow eyes fell on Riley, “but you, my dear. As I’ve told you, are my diamond in the rough.”

“And again, you still haven’t told me what that means, you sick fuck.”

The demon laughed to itself. “I always loved how feisty you are. So, fiery.” It took steps to close the space between them and though Riley shook, she stood her ground. The creature inhaled deeply as if it was taking in her scent. “Never, have I met someone like you. Someone... so special.” With another smirk, pleased with itself, it went on. “I know you wonder why you’re different from the rest. Why your abilities have gone into overdrive, so to speak.” Riley’s face twitched with rage. “Your blood--your family’s blood...it’s special.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Dear old daddy, he was special himself, wasn’t he? More entuned with others, especially you--always knowing what you needed and understanding you. My girl, he was an empath--the most powerful one I’d ever met actually...until you that is.”

Riley’s eyes grew. “...what?”

Sam took her hand and it seemed to amuse the demon.

“When you died so brutally on that dirty motel floor,” it sneered. “--poor Jackson was so heartbroken. Not just at your death, but that he could no longer feel his ‘baby girl’. The bond you shared--he couldn’t live without it.”

Her eyes welled at the thought of how close she and her father were; how it did always feel like he could almost read her mind.

Jackson was a unique man with one of the most compassionate hearts she had ever known. After living as an empath herself, it finally made sense; Jack lived with the burden of carrying the pain of others.

No words came from her as Riley choked on the lump in her throat.

“But, back to tonight’s million dollar answer--what I need...is a leader.”

Sam could feel his blood boiling beneath his skin. “To lead who?”

“Oh, I’ve already got my army. Or...I will soon, anyway.”

“You son of a bitch”

“Honestly, I’m surprised you hadn’t guessed. I mean, why do you think so many children flamed out already? Max Miller and Andy’s brother, what’s-his-name? They weren’t strong enough. I’m looking for the best and brightest of your generation.”

The soft drizzle of rain slowly had frizzed and dampened their hair as they continued their conversation. Sam had more questions than he knew what to do with. “Our generation?”

“Well, there’s other generations, but let’s just worry about yours. That’s why I’m here. I wanna give you both the inside track. You’re tough. You’re smart. You’re well-trained, thanks to your daddies. Sammy,” the demon’s voice poisoned his nickname. “Little Riley...you’re my favorites,” it whispered almost seductively. “Only one of you all are supposed to make it out, but I’ll make you a deal.”

Riley scoffed as she felt her teeth grind. “I don’t make deals.”

Yellow-eyes chortled through its nose. “Not that kind of deal, sweetheart.”

She loathed hearing it call her what Dean always did in love.

“If you can both survive, then we’ll call it a day. Sam, you--you will be my soldier; the leader of my forces. And Riley,” he hissed. “You--you my dear are worthy of so much more. I want you at my side. We would rule together over a new world. I can teach you to use your abilities in ways you never imagined. You could be more powerful than anything the world has ever known. I don’t know what made you what you are, but--” the demon licked it’s bottom lip as it sized her up. “--I’m itching to find out. You and I--we could be immortal...together.”

“I would rather die,” Riley snapped through her teeth.

“Well, that’s not something I want to happen. So...make sure it doesn’t,” it winked with a hooked eyebrow.

“You ruined our lives,” Sam’s wrath dripped from his words. “You killed everyone we loved.”

“The cost of doing business, I’m afraid. I mean, sweet little Jessica--she just had to die. You were all set to marry that little blonde thing, become a tax lawyer with two kids, a beer gut, and a little McMansion in the suburbs.”

“And Deb?” Riley’s lip trembled, afraid of the answer.

An evil grin crept up the demon’s face that sent chills up the hunter’s spine. “Auntie hated your hunting gig, didn’t she? Hated that she couldn’t keep you safe. Sweet Debbie was gonna make you a partner at the diner. She knew you wouldn’t be able to turn down her offer. You would have been stuck in Lawrence, and you would never have partnered up with Sammy here.”

Riley could hear a serpent-like hissing coming from inside the creature.

“Why do you think you can hear his thoughts and not the others? You were meant to be together. I had to ensure that--ensure that you had that bond. And I needed you both sharp, on the road, honing your skills--your gifts.”

Sam’s hand clenched in Riley’s. “What about our moms?”

“That was bad luck. They walked in on us. Wrong place, wrong time. It was never about them. It was always about you two.” There was a long pause as the hunters stood frozen in shock of all they had just been told. The demon snickered. “I’m feeling like you’ve caught me in a charitable mood. I’ll show you what I mean.”

The demon snapped its fingers and suddenly, Riley and Sam stood in a nursery with the evil creature at their side. They were both dumbfounded as their eyes scanned over the room. Soft blue walls surrounded them with the windows adorned in printed curtains. Stuffed animals were nearly on every shelf and a glowing nightlight moon cast it’s soft glow onto a wooden crib in the middle of the room. Inside, laid a baby boy in a blue onesie, his eyes filled with tears as he cooed and cried quietly. Next to the crib, stood a tall, dark shadow that hovered over the infant.

They were in Sam’s nursery on that fateful night over 23 years ago.

“Look familiar?” Yellow-eyes asked, teasingly. “It should.”

“Oh, my god…” Sam uttered under his breath.

Riley looked up at him with silent questions, but could see from the tears in his eyes exactly where they were.

Sam and Riley both went to charge over towards the crib, but the demon put out an arm to stop them. “Relax, kids. This is just a high-def instant replay. Enjoy the show.”

A young Mary Winchester walked into the room to answer baby Sam’s cries, shuffling her feet in exhaustion. She noticed the dark figure and assumed it was John. “Is he hungry?”

The creature just replied with a silent, “Shh.”

As she turned to leave, Sam panicked and yelled for her. “Mom! Mom!”

“What did I just tell you? She can’t hear you. This isn’t real.”

Riley and Sam watched in horror as the memory played out.

Yellow-eyes had slowly cut his wrist with his long and claw-like nails. With that slit open, drops of blood fell onto the lips and in the mouth of baby Sam.

“What the fuck are you doing to him?” Riley demanded.

“You mean, what did I do for you both?” The demon’s eyes met hers as she trembled. “Oh yes, consider this a snippet into my visit to your bedside as well.” Yellow-eyes gave his attention back to the flashback. “Better than mother’s milk.”

“Does this mean that we have--demon blood in us?” Sam’s fury grew, but Riley could feel disgust with himself growing alongside it. “Answer me!” he shouted.

At that moment, Mary rushed back into the room. She came to a quick halt as she grasped the door frame and looked inside. The demon turned at her return and glared its yellow eyes.

“It’s you,” she uttered.

“She knew you!” Sam reacted in shock.

Mary began to walk closer to the crib as an unseen force thrust her back against the wall. She was stuck, with her arms almost above her head, completely at the demon’s mercy.

They all watched as Mary slowly moved up the wall until she is pinned on the ceiling above them.

Riley covered her mouth and gasped in terror.

“No! No!” Sam screamed.

“I don’t think you wanna see the rest of this.” Yellow-eyes snapped his fingers once again and they were all back in Cold Oak.

Both Sam and Riley were still leaning against the same wall they had been when their dream began.

“Guys, wake up!” Andy pleaded.

Sam and Riley panted heavily as they caught their bearings and looked up at Andy and Jake.

“Ava’s gone.”

------

Riley, Sam, and Jake rushed outside, their shoes squishing in the fresh mud. Andy had stayed inside to wait in case she would come back.

“Sam, you go check the hotel. Jake--the houses.” Riley ordered. “I’ll take the barn.”

Sam nodded. “Meet back here in ten minutes.”

They all headed off towards their designated searches, alone and into the dark.

Meanwhile, Andy had been watching them from the window. He turned to walk into the next open space and his feet creaked on the wood as he carefully stepped over the salt.

When he looked up, Ava was in the room with him. Little did he know she was dragging a finger across the windowsill, breaking the salt line.

“Ava! Where’d you go? Didn’t you hear us yelling?”

She turned around with no expression on her face. “Yeah, I heard you.” Ava’s face was cold and vacant as she put her fingers to her temples in concentration.

A cloud of black demon smoke appeared outside the window. With the line broken, it slithered under the crack and inside.

Andy stood motionless, confused and scared. “What are you doing?”

The smoke quickly materialized into the demon girl they had seen before. It bared its claws and snarled at Andy before wasting no time to attack. He was forced to the floor and screamed in pain as his chest was ripped open. Andy’s blood splattered all around and shot onto the window pane. It poured into the cracks of the wooden paneled floor as Andy choked on his own blood before meeting an agonizing end.

Studying his corpse, Ava grew more and more amused with a sinister smile on her face for a brief second. She then suddenly let out a deafening scream.

After hearing her blood-curdling cries, the hunters outside sprinted back to the house. They saw her crying and quaking with fear as she pointed to Andy’s body on the floor.

Sam and Riley stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of their friend’s mangled body. Riley gasped.

“Oh, my god. You guys,” Ava’s words were almost unintelligible as she sobbed. “I just found him like this!”

“Jesus Christ,” Sam almost gagged staring at the scene. “What happened?”

Riley shook her head adamantly. “No. No way that thing got in here.” She went to the window and checked the salt lines to see one broken and turned to back to Ava sternly. “Who did that, Ava?”

“I don’t know--maybe Andy…”

With a serious voice, Sam interrupted her. “Andy wouldn’t do that. That line wasn’t broken when we left.” There was silence between them before he grew angry for an answer. “Ava!”

“What? You don’t think that I--?” she blubbered.

Stepping closer, Riley’s face grew stone cold and challenging. “I’ll tell you what I think, Ava. You’re the only one of us with time that was unaccounted for; five months of time. And you got a headache right before the demon got to Lily, didn’t you?”

Sam put the pieces together at the same time his sister did and they shared a knowing look. They both stared her down, demanding answers.

Ava dropped her act as her fake tears ran down her face. She sniffled and laughed a little. “Had you going though, didn’t I?” Ava wiped her eyes as if it was nothing. “Yeah. I’ve been here a long time, and not alone either. People just keep showing up--children, like us. Batches of three or four at a time.”

“Oh my god,” Riley almost whispered. “You killed them all.”

“I’m the undefeated heavyweight champ. And I don’t think ‘god’ had much to do with this, Riley.”

“How could you?” Sam scoffed with a look of disgust.

“I had no choice,” she replied, all too matter-of-fact about it. “It's me or them. After a while, it was easy. It was even kind of fun. I just stopped fighting it.”

“Fighting what?”

“Who we are, Sam. If you'd just quit your hand-wringing and open yourself up, you have no idea what you can do. The learning curve is so fast, it’s crazy--the switches that just flip in your brain.” Ava chuckled. “I can’t believe I started out just having dreams. Do you know what I can do now?”

“Control demons.”

“Ah, you are quick on the draw. You know, Riley, when you told me about your abilities, I was sure you’d already decided to play for the other team. But...doesn’t really matter now.” Putting her hands to her head, Ava focused once more. “Yeah, I’m sorry, guys. But it’s over.”

That same cloud of black smoke returned to the window.

Just as it was about to enter, Jake came from behind Ava and wrapped his arms around her throat. In one swift motion, he twisted her neck, killing her instantly.

As Ava’s body thumped to the ground, the demonic smoke turned in the other direction, disappearing once again.

------

“I think we can make it out of here now,” Sam told Riley and Jake as they left the building.

Riley nodded. “I think you’re right. She was the one summoning the Acheri. Now that she’s dead, it shouldn’t come back.”

“Yeah, we gotta go.”

As Riley and Sam walked slightly ahead, Jake shook his head. “Not ‘we’.”

The hunters turned to him, stunned.

“Only one of us is getting out of here. I--I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I had a vision. That Yellow-Eyed demon or whatever it was--he talked to me. He told me how it was.”

Riley’s breath quickened as she pleaded with Jake. “No, no, you can’t listen to it, okay?”

“He’s not letting us go--” Jake told them sternly. “Only one. Now, if we don’t play along, he’ll kill all three of us. Now, I--I like you both--I do, but do the math here. What good’s it do for all of us to die? Now, I can get out of here. I get close to the demon--I can kill the bastard.”

“Come with us and we will kill it together, Jake.”

“There’s no way for me to know you won’t turn on me.”

“Okay, look,” Sam slowly took out his knife and showed it to Jake before placing it on the ground. Both he and Riley slightly put their hands up in surrender to offer peace. “Just come with us, Jake. Don’t do this. Don’t play into what it wants.”

After a tense pause, Jake moved to place his piece of metal onto the ground and the hunters sighed with relief.

“Okay,” Sam exhaled.

Suddenly, Jake punched Sam. The soldier’s super-strength sent him flying across the field, thudding to the ground.

Riley went to dive for a weapon. Though before she could even bend down, she too was struck. She went into the air and crashed through the nearby wooden fence. It broke on impact as Riley went unconscious.

Sam was on the ground, winded and groaning in pain. When he looked up all he could do was watch as Jake strode over to him quickly and with purpose.

The soldier reared his foot back, ready to punt Sam in the head, the hunter kicked back at him. The two exchanged hit after hit with Sam still on the ground before he leveraged himself up.

Each landed multiple punches, but one powerful blow hit Sam’s right shoulder with a bone-crunching sound. The pain knocked him back to the ground. Sam forced himself up swiftly, moaning through the pain of his broken bones.

Jake approached again and swung at Sam as the hunter ducked out of the way. The soldier’s punch went through a wooden railing, temporarily holding him in place.

Taking his opportunity, Sam kneed Jake several times before kicking him down. The soldier laid there for a moment, out of breath, before fumbling to stand.

It was then that Sam picked up the iron bar that Jake had surrendered earlier and struck him with it, knocking him out.

As Sam got closer to Jake, he stood over him, looking at him with ragged breaths and anger. Sam lifted the bar, ready to strike, but hesitated.

At that moment, Sam decided not to be the monster he feared becoming. He would choose his own destiny just as Riley and Dean told him he could.

So, tossing the bar to the ground, Sam reluctantly showed Jake mercy and stumbled away.

With her eyes struggling to open, Riley grabbed at her throbbing head. Her body felt limp and heavy as she tried to get up. When it was too difficult, her face collapsed back into the small patch of grass.

Suddenly, a feeling Riley had never experienced before consumed her. It was as if the clock had stopped and she was frozen in time.

A flashing image flickered through her mind. She watched as Sam collapsed to his knees into the mud. His eyes rolled back before his lids shut, never to open again.

Riley and Dean held his lifeless body and sobbed, begging for their brother to come back to them. Dean cried out for Sam with his hands covered in his little brother’s blood.

Riley could feel every emotion as though it was actually happening. The loss of Sam tore at her in a way she hadn’t felt since the death of her father. Air left her lungs as her walls fell. Dean’s grief, toppled with her own, was enough to make Riley wonder if dying alongside Sam would be less painful than a life without him.

As the vision ended, Riley’s eyes were flooded with tears. Her body trembled in agony, still reeling from the premonition. Riley’s vision didn’t show her what exactly would happen to Sam, but she had to stop it. If she didn’t, her brother would die in that field that night.

Across the way, Riley could see Sam, holding onto his shoulder making his way over to her.

“Riley…” he cried.

Jake was nowhere in sight, so Riley used all the strength she had left to pull herself to her feet. She groaned as every muscle hurt from the collision into the fence. Blood dripped down the side of her head as she began to hobble across the field to Sam.

They nearly collapsed into each other’s arms, both staggering from sheer exhaustion after the beatings they had taken.

“Sam! Riley!”

Turning to the sound of Dean calling their names, the two saw him and Bobby in the distance. Their flashlights bounced around as they began their approach to the wounded hunters.

Riley and Sam started to trudge through the wet ground beneath them with smiles on their faces.

“Dean!” Sam called with a grin and heavy breath.

Dean’s voice turned to one of panic as he screamed, “guys, look out!” He and Bobby immediately began to run towards them.

In that instant, Riley heard static coming from behind them growing louder and louder. She knew, Jake was back and coming for them both. Riley’s vision wouldn’t come true because she would make sure that it didn’t.

Without hesitation, Riley shoved Sam’s weak body away, hard into the ground before spinning on her heel.

As if in slow motion, Riley looked up as she turned to see herself face to face with the soldier. A pain she had never known hit her with force and she gasped out. Riley’s mouth fell slightly agape as she looked down at the handle of the blade that had been thrust under her ribcage. Her eyes went back to Jake’s as he twisted the knife, hard, briefly picking her up off her feet by the hilt.

“No!!!” Dean screamed at the top of his lungs. He sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him, his terrified voice echoing through the quiet night.

The blade squelched as Jake pulled it from her body. He knew he couldn’t stay and took off in a desperate attempt to escape from the wrath of the others.

Sam could barely move as he cried her name deep from his gut in agony, “Riley!” He stumbled to his feet, hunched and weak.

Riley’s hands clutched at her fresh wound while warm blood poured over them. She was in a state of shock, only releasing small groans of pain, her feet fumbling to turn back toward the brothers.

Her eyes glistened with tears as she realized what had just happened. Riley’s knees gave way and she collapsed to the ground just as Sam had in her vision.

Dean slid across the mud to grasp her by the jacket and hold her up as Sam fell beside them. His large hands grabbed at her along with his brother’s. Bobby never stopped running as he charged in Jake’s direction with his shotgun in hand.

Riley looked at Dean as blood found its way to the corner of her mouth. A small gurgle came from her throat and she slightly twitched in his hands.

“Rye,” he pleaded. “Lemme look at you.” Dean glanced down at her blood covered hands and put one of his on top of them.

Both Winchesters kept saying her name, desperately trying to keep her alert.

“Baby, stay with me, okay?” Dean told her.

Riley’s head wobbled weakly as she began to go limp.

Sam’s eyes filled up as he brushed the hair away from her face and choked on his words. “Riley…? Rye--please…”

“We got you,” Dean said lovingly as his voice broke. “We got you. We’re here. We’re gonna patch you up, okay? I’m gonna take care of you. I promised--I would always take care of you.” His hands held the sides of her face trying to get her to look at him.

The blue eyes that brought Dean to life and gave him purpose began to flutter shut. “Rye. Rye. Riley, look at me, sweetheart.”

Her body slumped forward into his arms while both brothers begged for her to hold on.

“No, no, no, no, no...baby, not like this…” Dean cried. He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her as her blood soaked through his shirt. The warmth of it dripped down his chest and Riley’s face crashed into the crook of his neck.

With his hand in her hair, Dean held her close to him. Tears streamed down his face as he buried himself into Riley’s shoulder.

Sam nearly threw himself helplessly against her back and rubbed down one of her arms. The brothers held her together in the rain and rocked her in their arms as she died. They openly wept and howled in pain at their loss as they drowned in grief.

Riley was gone.

Dean shook her one more time as tears dripped over his mouth and down his neck. Suffering more than he could bear, he released an earth-shattering scream into the heavens.

“Riley!”

------

To be continued...

S2 Chapter 12: All Hell Breaks Loose Part 2

I LIVE for your love and comments. Can we maybe just keep spoiler comments in the actual comments and more vague ones in reblogs so others don’t see right away? Please feel free to send all the love. Thanks, friends!!

Let me know if you would like to be subscribed to all things Wayward Hearts :)

“Wayward Hearts” Tag List:

@coffee-obsessed-writer

@waywardmoeyy

@00slayer

@adoptdontshoppets

@crystallstaircase

@salt-n-burn-em-all

@nerd-in-a-galaxy-far-away

@becs-bunker

@squirrelnotsam

@fandommaniacx

@death-unbecomes-you

@themoonandotherslikeit

@son-ova-bitch

@huntersociopathavenger

@flamencodiva

@aaspiringhero

@gemini0410

@love-nakamura

@klinenovakwinchester

@cemmia

@mirandaaustin93

@paintballkid711

@da5haexowin

@a-manduhhhhh

@samanddeanaremybbyboys

@winchestergirl82

@spnbaby-67

@sandycub

@bunnybaby121115

72 notes · View notes

crashdevlin · 6 years ago

Text

Civil Warriors- 1: Oversight

Civil Warriors Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version) Part Three of the Red Queen Chronicles!

Summary: Cassie Campbell refuses to sign the Sokovia Accords, but it’s not about pride, it’s about right.

Word Count: 2643

Pairing(s): Clint Barton x OFC,

Chapter Warnings: tiny bit of angst and some good fluff, foreshadowing the badness

Cassie sat on the couch in her home in Seattle, drinking coffee and reading through the newspaper. "Did you see this, babe? The United Nations drafted up a law in response to the thing that happened in Nigeria."

"Yeah? What's the new law?" Clint called from the bedroom.

"It's pretty fucking oppressive, actually. Basically, superheroes have to answer to them. Go where they say, do what they want. They decide who our villains are and what is acceptable action against them. All known superheroes are expected to sign these Sokovia Accords."

"And if we don't?" Clint walked in, a piece of pizza in his hand. "If we decide to hero without the UN's consent?"

"If we hero, we end up the next ones on the arrest warrant, hunted down by the legit heroes."

Clint took a bite of the pizza and flopped down next to her. "Good thing we're retired."

"I didn't retire. I took a break. I wanted to finish my degree." She slapped the newspaper into his lap. "This is... ridiculous. We can do things that cops can't do, that the military can't do. To dictate when and where we can go to do these things... what happened in Lagos was horrible, but all the people in that building's courtyard would've blown if she hadn't done what she did."

"Some would say that Rumlow wouldn't have activated that bomb if Steve hadn't been there."

"No, he wouldn't have. But if Steve hadn't been there, he would've gotten away with a weaponized disease that would have caused hundreds more deaths in the long-run!"

"You know an awful lot about what happened in Lagos. Have you been heroing vicariously?"

Cassie looked down. "Nat and I have been talking."

Clint sat up straight, turning to her. "You and Nat? Are good, are friends?"

"Yes. We’re good. You remember Pepper took me out for my... '9 months after conception when they took me out of the goo and let me breathe on my own for the first time' day? And we had a girl's day with Maria? Natasha came along, we had some free mimosas, got our nails and hair done. We had fun, decided we actually liked each other. She said I was good enough for you and I think that was all I really needed to hear to let go of my grudge about the cocktease comment."

Clint smiled. "So, you and Nat have been talking about everything that they've been doing? What, you wanna go back?"

"Not yet, but... we might have to."

"What do you mean?" He asked, munching on the pizza again.

"I mean this is gonna tear us apart. There are going to be heroes who find the idea just as oppressive I do, who refuse to be controlled, and they are gonna rebel. This is gonna cause in-fighting and pain."

"Yeah. And we are gonna stay out of that because we're retired."

"Bullshit," Cassie said, standing. "And get the pizza out of the bedroom, Clint. We've talked about this. Lucky gets into it if you leave it where he can-"

"It's in the side table. Lucky can't open drawers, yet."

"I don't want him scratching at the furniture, either, dude. Put the pizza in the fridge."

"I'll put you in the fridge," Clint mumbled, heading for the bedroom.

"Home, sweet home!" she called out.

"Shit! You know I didn't mean it like that," Clint said, walking out of the bedroom with a cardboard pizza box.

"I know. You just don't think before you speak sometimes," Cassie said as her phone started to ring. 'Natasha' shined up at her. "And here we go," she said, picking up the phone from the coffee table and answering it. "Yeah?"

"Is Clint with you?" Natasha asked, her voice serious.

"Of course, he is. He hasn't left since Christmas."

"Put me on speaker. I have to talk to you both."

"About the Accords?" Cassie asked, pressing the button to send the Russian's voice to speaker. "'Cause I'm not signing."

"I'm retired." Clint walked up next to Cassie.

"This is a big deal. You have to, at least, think about it, guys."

"Think about a group of men who've never been in a room with a supervillain telling me when and what I can do about those villains? Do you think those men would have let you guys come after me when I was with Loki? Do you think they would've let you come to rescue me when I was in Austria?"

"Look, we need some oversight. What happened in Lagos-"

"I'm gonna hate myself for using these words, but 'acceptable losses', Nat. Yes, a dozen people died in Lagos, but Rumlow was gonna blow up everyone in the courtyard. The amount of damage done was cut, at least, in half and these are your words. And when you add in the fact that Rumlow almost got away with a biological weapon... but you didn't know that going in. You thought he was going after the police station. You never would have gotten approval to stop him on that partial information. He would have gotten away with it. Hundreds, maybe thousands, would have died."

"Clint... talk some sense into your girl."

Clint shook his head and smiled at the younger woman. "Natasha. You are my best friend and I love you, but... I don't love you enough to go against the Queen."

"Look, I'm gonna tell Ross that you're on the fence. TBD, just like Wanda. Think about it some more."

"No need. This is an oppressive law and there will always be heroes who do the job without permission. If we wanted to be under the command of a government or governments, we'd have joined up with the Army."

"I'm telling Ross you don't have an answer. You have three days. Think about it," Natasha said, before the phone clicked off.

"Well, I really wanted to be retired, but I get the feeling you just signed us up for a war," Clint said, wrapping his arms around her.

"I didn't sign anything."

"And that's the point." Clint pressed his lips to her cheek and squeezed her. "How long, you think, before this blows up in our faces?"

"The Russian said three days, so... we'll get maybe four."

"Okay. So... head to the farm, drop off Lucky with Laura and the kids before our next big issue?"

Cassie nodded and turned to him. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"I know. We can head out tomorrow, okay?"

"Maybe we'll have time to do something fun with Lila and Cooper before things get bad."

"Ooh, water-skiing. Coop was sayin' he really wanted to give that a try."

"Yeah, but what about Lila?"

"You think she can't water-ski?"

"I think I'm nervous about the water-crash."

"Hey, if Laura goes with it, we can. Come on, we're a circus family. We ain't scared of crashin'."

Cassie laughed. "I love you, circus freak."

"I love you, Frankenstein."

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

"Aunt Cassie! Uncle Clint!" Lila ran in as soon as they entered the house. She wrapped her arms around Cassie's middle as Cooper walked in and went for a half hug with Clint.

"Mom and Nate are sleeping."

"Good. Babies and mommies need nappies." Clint laughed. "I don't know why I said it like that."

"Cause you're a dork. And since when am I your aunt, little girl?" Cassie looked down at the little blond girl in her arms.

"Mommy said that the only one she's ever seen Uncle Clint look at the way he looks at you was Aunt Bobbi and he's bound to put a ring on your finger soon."

"Oh, she said that, huh? Gonna have to have a talk with your mommy," Clint grumbled.

"Anyway," Cassie said, pointedly. "Lucky is out in the yard. He's begging for some fetch after that long car ride. You kids up for it?"

The kids ran for the door, excited. "Laura needs to learn to keep her mouth shut."

Cassie turned to him. "Ah, come on. I'm sure it's just more of Lila wanting cousins."

"No. It's Laura... running her big fat mouth," Clint said, putting his hand in his pocket. Cassie's eyes widened as she focused in on the ring box. "I had this whole speech planned, about second chances in life and destinies and stuff, but..."

"Clint... what are you-"

"I can get down on one knee if you want. I mean, that's not really our style, but I can go classic with it, if you-" He smiled, opening the box and bending his left leg. "If that's what it takes to get you to say 'yes' and make me the happiest cliche in the world."

"Don't you dare," Cassie said, pulling him to her and kissing him, her hands burying in his hair.

Clint pulled back and brought the ring up to her face. "It's white gold. Diamonds and sapphire inlay so you can still punch people. I know you don't think you were born, but September birthday, sapphires."

"I don't care about the ring, Clint," she breathed out.

"Yeah, I get that, what with you not looking at it, at all. Also worrisome, you haven't said 'yes', yet."

"Clint, you could have tied a string around my finger and I would have said 'yes'." She laughed. "I'm saying 'yes', Clint."

His lips crashed onto hers again as she grabbed the ring box from his hand. "About damn time. He's had that ring for two months," Laura said, walking into the living room. "So, this is how you do it, Clint? What happened to candles and a string quartet and all those reasons you gave for holding off for the last couple months?"

"Yeah, well, that's how I was gonna do it. I was even gonna ask Tony for his blessing as a funny take on the fact that he's more of a father to you than, you know, anyone else. And I kinda got Phil's blessing at Christmas, like he said there wouldn't be an issue." He shook his head. "But then a Hydra agent decided to blow himself up in Nigeria, the UN decided to make our friends sign up to be international mall cops on their payroll, which fractured us and... shit's gonna hit the fan soon and I wanted to know that, that you're with me through all of it."

"Of course, I am," Cassie said, slipping the ring on her left ring finger. She chuckled in surprise. "It fits."

"Yeah. I measured your finger in your sleep."

"If that weren't so adorable, it'd be creepy. I love you, Clint. I can't wait to be 'Cassie Barton'."

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

"Oh. That's not good," Cassie muttered, as the news played.

"A bomb hidden in a news van blew up in front of the UN building in Vienna. More than seventy people have been injured, at least twelve are dead, including Wakanda's King T'Chaka. Officials have released a video of the suspect, who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, the infamous Hydra agent linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations. They're urging anyone with information to contact authorities."

"Clint!" Cassie called. Clint walked in from the kids' play room, a hammer in his hand. "We were discussing four days 'til excrement/fan collaboration? I was wrong." She hit rewind on the DVR and replayed the news.

"Shit. Bucky, that's... that's Steve's bestie, right?"

"Bucky was Steve's Nat. They took care of each other, since they were in school together. Bucky got grabbed by Hydra and brainwashed into being an assassin for them. Steve didn't sign, but there is no way he's gonna sit back and let this shit happen. No way he lets anyone else bring Bucky in," Cassie answered, leaning forward to grab her phone. She dialed Steve and waited. "You're about to do something stupid, aren't you?"

Steve chuckled. "It's only stupid if I get caught."

"What're the consequences if you do get caught? 'Cause I got the feeling the consequence is jail time. Captain America in jail, just seems wrong."

"Like I said... consequences are for if I get caught. If I don't, then I can bring Bucky in with minimal damage."

"Steve, when have we ever done anything with 'minimal damage'? That's the reason the Accords exist."

"I'm going to bring him in... even if someone has to arrest me for doing it."

"Look..." Cassie spun her ring on her finger. "You know Clint and I didn't sign, right? You know, if you need us, we're here."

"Well, I've got Sam on location with me. He's already... pretty much agreed to put himself on the line with me for this. But, thanks. I appreciate it. Oh, and, um, congratulations. I heard about-"

"Nat's got a big mouth. Thanks, but this isn't really the time, is it? Bigger things, that's why I didn't announce it like I'm sure a bride-to-be is supposed to." Clint smiled at her, taking her left hand in his and kissing the back of it.

"Well, I thought you were retired. This stuff shouldn't have anything to do with you."

"Come on. I went on hiatus, fully intended on coming back after graduation. Clint retired, not me. And he's not very good at being retired, either. Listen, Steve, seriously. Be careful. I don't want to have to come visit you with a piece of superhero-proof glass between us."

"I'll keep that in mind, Cass. Enjoy your... retirement."

"Not retired."

"Well, maybe you should be. I'll call you after... if I can."

"Right. Be careful."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oi, old man. Don't 'ma'am' me."

Steve chuckled again. "I'm gonna miss being an Avenger with you."

"Sometimes, Steve, the end of one thing is the beginning of everything else."

"I'll keep that in mind. I'll call."

"You better." Cassie pulled the phone away from her head and looked at her fiance. "I think we should get our shit together. Just in case. Steve thinks he's got it pretty well in hand, but I wanna be able to hop on a plane to Europe as soon as he calls."

"Of course. I do want to try to take the kids out on the lake, though."

Cassie giggled as Cooper and Lila could be heard in the play room jumping for joy. "Water-ski! Water-ski!"

"We'll go tomorrow morning. Today, let's go out to eat. We'll mall it up today." She lowered her voice and sighed. "I need a bag so I can bring the staff along with me."

"Oh, you're gonna let the Berserker come to play?" Clint's voice was apprehensive.

"I... want that option. I mean, against a suit of armor or two... Berserker strength might be a good..."

"You're pretty strong without the-"

"Clint... I know what it does to me and it scares me, too, babe, but... Sif and Thor think I'm strong enough to deal and... I've come back from it."

"But... you slept half the day after last time and you only had it in your hands for ten minutes, and... you had some-"

"Anger issues after. I remember. It's a Berserker staff. It's not a 'cuddly, happy memories' staff."

"Well, I'd rather you fight with a regular staff. I've got that bow that turns into a bo."

"That joke wasn't funny the first time I heard it, and it isn't funny now." She ran her hand down his face, lovingly. "It'll be okay. It's adrenaline. Massive amounts of adrenaline and my body can take that."

"What about your mind? It pulls out all your worst memories and uses them as fuel for that adrenaline."

"I don't want to talk about this, anymore, Clint. I'm taking the staff. I need a long locking box or suitcase so that no one else can touch the thing."

"When this messes you up, Cassie, I'm not gonna hold back with the 'I told you so's."

"Noted, Hawk."

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme @lonely-skys @allykat2108 @mogaruke @flamencodiva @team-free-will-you-idjits-67 @pisces-cutie @paintballkid711 @natura1phenomenon @rainbowkisses31 @atc74 @alagalaska @coffee-obsessed-writer @bamby0304 @ilovefanfic86 @sculptorofbeginnings @rainflowermoon @bunnybaby121115 @imperiusimpala

RED QUEEN CHRONICLES TAGS

@fanfictionjunkie1112

#cassie writes stuff #avengers fanfiction #captain america civil war #red queen chronicles #clint/ofc

18 notes · View notes