#grace skinner fanfic

[heliads]

Praying I’m not too late because of school!!

Anyways, post undivided/unbound, grace and argent reunion fic please? Like, after the events of Unbound, Grace and the rest of the main gang meetup again and they’re all hanging out on some unknown port. Meanwhile Argent’s there running errands for Divan. The two bump into each other and hurt/comfort reunion ensues!! Also I wanna see Argent grovel for Grace’s forgiveness hehehe (Also the Grace Redemption Arc continues wooo)

'one more game to play ' - grace skinner

masterlist

Grace Skinner is doing well, all things considered. She is not dead. No one wants her dead, either, except perhaps some of the adults down at the park, the ones who sit in front of their chess boards rain or shine in search of a good opponent. It’s not Grace’s fault if they fell for her strategical schemes. Perhaps they should practice more.

Aside from the chess players, though, Grace is fine. She’s doing well as a new entrepreneur of tissue synthesis technology. Her friends, for the most part, are still whole, although Connor Lassiter has a new crop of scars that he doesn’t seem all that keen to show off. They’re getting better, slowly, and everything is fine.

It’s like a game that Grace can play, and she’s excellent at games. Whenever she catches herself slipping, she thinks about good things, like the health of her friends and the success of her latest enterprise. She takes walks. She clears her head, and she doesn’t think about what she shouldn’t. There are topics that are off-limits. Grace knows the rules, and she follows them.

Right now, she’s on her way to meet up with some of her friends. They’ve arranged for everyone to gather at a nearby pier. Apparently, the sea air will do them some good. Plus, the fresh breeze tends to restore all of them to finer spirits. Farther away from the city, they won’t be exposed to things that bring back bad memories, like the precise scent of smoke that burns down an antiques shop, or the routine shuffle of police footsteps outside a hiding place.

No, no. Grace reroutes her thoughts again. She was close there, but she won’t lose the game. She’s been playing it steadily for a while now. They all have. They stick to their houses or go somewhere so far away that no one even knows who they are, but it’s just different versions of the same idea. Different rulebooks, maybe, or different players, but the same damn thing in the end.

At the crosswalk in front of her, two children carefully walk into the road, eyes wide to avoid any cars. There isn’t that much traffic this time of day, but the older one still takes the hand of the younger anyway, ushering them across with far more gravity than the situation perhaps requires. She sees their faces, a boy and a girl, maybe siblings. Grace can remember when she had a brother who would do the same thing for her, before–

Her breath catches in her throat, and Grace remembers.

She’s lost the game again.

Grace doesn’t realize she’s stopped walking until she starts attracting funny looks. Quickly, she starts moving again, picking up the pace. She doesn’t want to be late to the meetup. Tardiness will attract questions, like just what she was doing to cause her to be distracted. Grace is always precise, perfectly on time. She doesn’t usually make mistakes like this. She doesn’t usually lose the game when she’s so certain about winning.

She keeps walking, passing the two maybe-siblings and leaving them far behind. They don’t matter. They’re just kids. Grace is older than them by many years and many memories. She does not have to look at them and wish that she could have her brother back, even for the time it took to cross the street, even for one half-moment when she could just talk to him and say–

Something, maybe. Grace doesn’t even know. She doesn’t have to know. Grace doesn’t know where Argent Skinner is and she probably never will. Connor told her that her brother was alive, but even he didn’t know where Argie had ended up. Her brother is pretty good at keeping to himself, even if he’s better when he has someone to talk to. That person used to be Grace. She doesn’t know who’s taken her place, but she hopes they’re good enough.

Most of her friends have arrived by the time Grace shows up at the pier. She waves hello to the ones she knows best, and casts a hopefully warm glance towards the ones that are more like acquaintances. Connor gestures for her to join him and Risa in a lively debate; apparently, they encountered an open-ended riddle while traveling here, and wish to have her input. 

The discussion is broadened to the group at large, and in between trying to figure it out, people start talking about where they’ve been and what they’ve been up to since the last time they were all together. Hayden’s trying his hand at public speaking, although he says it feels different when many people are actually watching him instead of just listening along. Lev has been working with Miracolina on how to prepare past tithes for the future they never planned on reaching. And Grace, of course, has the organ printer. All good things.

Still, she can’t help her gaze from drifting listlessly from the many faces on the pier back towards the bustling business of the port. Grace likes spending time with her friends, really she does, but having this many people here gives her the expectation that she’s got to perform for them in some way, be a better version of herself without quite knowing how, and it tends to stress her out a little. Looking at the bricks of the low buildings, watching the cars driving back and forth across the roads, is a lot easier to focus on than the discordant harmonies of so many voices.

Grace can feel her pulse starting to come back down again, and then she sees a silhouette slipping out of an open door. Their back is to her, so she can’t make out their face, but the advantage of spending one’s entire life around one single person is that you tend to remember them, and Grace swears she knows this person perfectly. The swing of his arms as he walks, the absentminded tilt of his head. This– this is Argent. Impossibly, it’s Argent. Grace’s brother. The reason she has to keep distracting herself from the awful truth that the closest part of her family is gone.

Grace’s breath catches in her throat. Truth be told, she didn’t even know if Argent was alive. He certainly hadn’t reached out to her, but then again, he would have no way of doing so. Vividly, Grace’s mind flashes back to a terrible night in Ohio, when she had seen a man she had thought was Argent, only to see part of her brother’s face on a different guy’s body. What if this is the same thing all over again? What if he really was unwound, even despite being old enough to avoid the limit, and one recipient just happened to get all of her brother.

Grace should look away and spare herself another horrorshow. She can’t take another brother-based heartbreak, that would go beyond losing the game to losing herself. Still, the silhouette mocks her silently as it walks away. It looks an awful lot like Argent, doesn’t it?

She can’t take it anymore and murmurs an excuse to her friends before heading off back down the pier towards the town. The young man who could be Argent Skinner isn’t walking all that fast, ambling in the vague direction of his destination, wherever that may be. By contrast, Grace is setting new records for speed walking, fists pumping as she hurries towards her supposed brother.

Just before she reaches him, Grace hangs back a little, giving herself time to judge the situation. If she’s wrong, she’s wrong now, and she’ll know it. However, the more Grace looks, the more she’s certain that this is indeed Argent. She steadies herself slightly, curling her hands into tight fists, and says uncertainly, “Argie?”

The figure stands stock-still, all momentum blown out of him like a limp sail on dead seas. Slowly, he turns around. There’s a moment before he completely faces Grace, a moment in which time feels as if it takes twice as long to pass. The instant of hesitation lasts for infinities, and then the figure stands directly in front of her and she knows– she knows it’s her brother. Knows it like breathing, like plotting out the winning move in a chess match. This is Argent, and she is Grace, and they are back together again.

For a while, they don’t say anything at all, just taking in the sight of each other. At last, Grace understands just what was done to her brother– half of his face is still scarred, as it was when Connor Lassiter attacked him when escaping his capture, but half of it is even more so damaged, still vaguely pink and irritated from the lingering aftereffects of a biobandage.

“Your face,” Grace says uncertainly, then immediately wishes she hadn’t.

Argent’s hand rises up instinctively– not to the fresh scars, as Grace had assumed he would, but to the old ones, the wounds Connor had given him. It’s as if he’s afraid that the other side of his face, too, would be ripped away when he least expected it. Dear God. What have they done to him?

“Never trust a parts pirate,” Argent growls.

So that’s what had happened. It makes sense that the man with Argent’s face that Grace encountered before he burned down the antique store would be a parts pirate. It also makes sense that Argent had tried to trust one. Lonely, hopeless Argent, who kidnapped the Akron AWOL then lost it all because he just had to post a selfie of the two of them together, who had joined up with a disreputable parts pirate because he wanted some grand expedition of revenge. Faceless Argent, who bears a countenance of wounds marking both times he learned his lesson.

“I missed you,” Grace says unexpectedly. “You didn’t call.”

Argent squints at her. “How could I? You left home and so did I. ‘Sides, I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me, on account of you running off with Connor and me trying to hunt you two down.” Upon seeing Grace’s crestfallen face, he adds hastily, “That didn’t mean I didn’t want to, though. Christ, Gracie, you’re my sister. That might not mean a whole lot at times, but I’ve felt rough about it ever since. Seeing you is good, though.”

“Thanks,” Grace whispers. All of a sudden, she feels eleven again, never quite saying the right thing to her cooler brother, not enough to make her one of his friends but enough to be a sister, as always. Well, maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world. Being a sister. It means she would feel less alone than she had before.

“I owe you more than that,” Argent confesses. “I’ve treated you something awful, haven’t I? Enough to make you run off with Connor and not come back. I’ve overlooked you, Gracie. I’ve treated you badly. It just tore me up inside, thinking that maybe you’d get hurt because of stuff I did. Say you’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

Grace hesitates a bit, mulling his words over, then nods at last. “I do forgive you, Argie.”

Her brother’s face washes over in relief. “I’m mighty glad to hear that, I have to say.”

She chuckles. “I’m mighty glad to hear you apologize. Thought you never would.”

“So did I,” he admits.

They stand for a few moments in awkward silence, not sure what to do now that the obvious has been taken care of. Then, in a sudden flash of reality, Grace remembers the group still bunched out on the pier. “A couple of us are hanging out past the docks. Do you want to join us?”

There’s a careful light behind Argent’s weatherbeaten eyes. “Are you sure? I reckon they might not be the happiest to see me right now.”

“Don’t mind that,” Grace says with a wave of her hand. “You saved Connor when he was unwound, right? He told me about that.”

“The Akron AWOL is saying I saved his life?” Argent asks, unconsciously puffing out his chest a little.

“He is,” Grace confirms. “Come on, you can hear him say it for yourself.”

With that, she turns and starts walking back towards the pier. A few moments later, she hears Argent following her. He catches up when they’re about to cross the street, insisting on going a half step earlier so he can watch for cars. Grace instantly remembers the younger pair of siblings she’d seen just an hour or so earlier. She’s got her brother back, she realizes with piercing clarity. They’re together again, the two Skinners, watching out for each other once more.

And with that, Grace wins the game.

requested by @sirofreak, i hope you enjoy!

unwind tag list: @reinekes-fox, @locke-writes

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[luckytidbit]

Babs

Hehe

[mybrainisrottingat3am]

Unwind Au?

Should I start posting my Unwind AU on here?

Like, please, someone tell me before I do it

[sirofreak]

I’m a writing a fanfic for the first time so here’s a snippet, would love to hear what y’all think so far!!

Spoilers for Unsouled, Undivided, and a bit of Unbound :P

1; A Radio Broadcast & A Friendship Bracelet

“Hi Hayden, I’m Lisa, big fan and it’s a super huge honor to be calling you!” The caller on the radio says.

Grace Skinner sits by the pool of her mansion fidgeting with an old handmade bracelet. She’s listening to the radio, but not a hundred percent playing attention to it. As always, she’s focused on a plethora of things at once: decorating her house, the puzzle she bought the other day, her friends, and a certain family member she hasn’t in a long while. That is until a certain name peaks and captures her interest completely.

“Anyways I think I might have an idea on where that Argent Skinner guy is,” the radio caller continues, and Grace goes stiff at mere mention of her now long lost brother.

Two years. It’s been two years since Grace has seen her brother Argent. Two years since that fate changing day when Argent locked Connor Lassiter in their old cellar back in Heartsdale, Kanas. And two years since she ran out that cellar behind Connor, leaving her younger brother to fend for himself.

[xxsksxxx]

Shadows and Light

Summary:

Mulder and Scully arrive in a small rural town to look into a ghost sighting.

Their journey takes them to an eerie, abandoned cabin in the middle of the forest.

As they delve deeper into the mysteries of the cabin and the strange noises they hear, they find themselves confronting their own beliefs and fears.

Notes:

As a long-time reader of X-Files fanfic, I have always greatly enjoyed the captivating stories that the many, many talented writers in this fandom have written about our favorite agents.

Writing fanfic is a journey I never thought I’d take. I’m both excited and scared. But here goes nothing, so here’s my very first fanfic.

I hope reading it will give you at least a fraction of the joy I had writing it.

AO3 | @today-in-fic

Chapter 1: The Abandoned Cabin

The sun hangs low in the late afternoon sky, casting long shadows through the dense canopy of trees. A gentle breeze rustles the leaves, sending a shiver down Mulder's spine. He tightens the collar of his coat, glancing at Scully, who stands beside him, her expression focused and determined.

The abandoned cabin looms before them, its weathered walls and broken windows giving it an ominous appearance.

They'd arrived in the rural town earlier in the day after receiving reports of a ghost sighting from a hiker. He'd been walking cross-country and spent the night close to an old cabin in the woods. And that's where he met the ghost, scaring him so much, he'd packed up and gone running back to town. The local people hadn’t been happy to see the FBI arriving in town, asking questions about ghosts. After Mulder had to pointedly show his badge a few times, a woman at the local diner had finally tipped them off that there had been rumors about a ghost in the woods for as long as she could remember. She had given them directions to the old abandoned cabin in the woods and sent them off.

“Do you think there's anything to this ghost story, Mulder?” Scully asks, her voice steady.

Mulder tilts his head, considering her question. “It's hard to say, Scully. People's beliefs and fears can often manifest into something they can't explain. But we won't know for sure until we investigate.”

Scully nods. The prospect of confronting a ghost adds another layer of intrigue to their already interesting case history. She fleetingly thinks about how Skinner will react to their case report later.

As they approach the cabin, the breaking of little branches on the old path beneath their feet echoes in the stillness of the late afternoon. The air is crisp and carries the scent of damp wood and earth. The cabin seems to stand frozen in time, a relic of a past waiting to reveal its secrets.

A sense of mystery and anticipation grips them both as they exchange glances. Mulder's eyes gleam with the excitement of the unknown, while Scully's analytical mind is already processing the details of their surroundings.

They step closer to the cabin, their flashlights cutting through the fading daylight. The beam of light reveals a broken down wooden door of a long forgotten, abandoned place.

“Mulder, be careful. This place looks like it's ready to collapse at any moment,” Scully warns.

Mulder smirks, giving her a playful wink. “Don't worry, Scully. And if any aberrations want to grace us with their existence, I'll make sure to not ask any dangerous questions.”

Scully rolls her eyes, but the hint of a smile lies on her lips. She knows about Mulder's habit to lighten the mood with humor.

Chapter 2: Echoes of the Past

As they step into the dimly lit cabin, Scully's heart skips a beat. An eerie hush envelops the place, and she can't help but shiver despite the layers she's wearing. Mulder, always curious, strides forward, his eyes scanning the barren space with an intensity that matches the determination in his voice earlier.

They're surrounded by the remnants of a life left behind—a broken chair, an old rug, and dust-covered books strewn across the floor. Scully carefully scans the room, her keen eye looking for any evidence that might shed light on their case. The surrounding silence seems to intensify, as if the cabin itself is holding its breath, waiting to reveal its long-buried secrets in the waning light of the late afternoon.

“Looks like someone's been here recently,” Mulder remarks, his eyes fixated on the old mattress lying in one corner. Scully follows his gaze and nods thoughtfully.

“It seems like they sought refuge here,” Scully observes, her voice loud in the silent room. The blanket draped over the mattress is faded and worn, but someone had taken shelter under it, seeking solace from what she can only imagine.

Mulder's gaze falls upon the flashlight resting on a dusty shelf. His fingers graze over its surface, and he raises an eyebrow as he examines it closely. “This flashlight looks newer than everything else in here,” he points out, a hint of intrigue coloring his words.

Scully slowly walks around, the old floorboards creaking beneath her feet. Her eyes dart around the cabin, taking in the sparse belongings and the book on mythical creatures lying open on a small table. It's a curious mix of objects.

They continue their search, their movements cautious yet purposeful. As they search through the dusty shelves and worn objects, a faint sound resonates through the air, like the soft rustling of leaves in the wind. Scully's senses go on immediate alert, and she exchanges a puzzled glance with Mulder. It's a strange noise, one that isn't immediately explainable.

“Do you hear that?” Scully asks, her voice hushed, as if afraid the sound might vanish if she speaks too loudly.

Mulder's brow furrows in concentration as he listens intently. “Yeah, I do,” he replies, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

The cabin's walls seem to absorb the sound, making it challenging to pinpoint. They both take cautious steps, trying to follow the faint echo, only for it to disappear and reappear as if it's teasing their senses. Mulder's brow furrows, and he reaches for his flashlight, hoping to shed some light on the mysterious noise.

“Mulder, this is strange. Let's go back to town and try to find out who is spending the nights here,” Scully suggests, her eyes never leaving his face. As she speaks, Mulder shines the flashlight around the cabin, revealing nothing but dusty corners and forgotten furniture.

He nods in agreement while taking a final look around. Reluctantly, they decide to abandon their search for the mysterious noise and head back to town.

Leaving the cabin, they find themselves bathed in the cool evening light. The distant calls of birds and rustling leaves fill the air, lending an almost surreal atmosphere to the surrounding woods. As they walk back to their car, curiosity gnaws at Scully, and she wonders if the locals hold any information that could unravel the mystery.

Chapter 3: Ghosts

As they stand outside the cabin, their breaths visible in the chilly air, Scully feels a tinge of apprehension. The silence hangs heavy around them. The mysterious noise has disappeared.

While Mulder pulls out the car keys to their rental and gets behind the wheel, Scully takes another look around. Her attention is drawn back to the present when she hears the car only giving a few labored sounds before falling silent again. Mulder twists the car key repeatedly, frustration evident on his face as the engine refuses to start.

Scully takes out her cell phone and checks for a signal, taking a few steps around. But the “No Service” message remains unyielding, leaving them stranded in the middle of the woods.

With a frustrated growl, Mulder gets out of the car and steps back next to Scully. The encroaching darkness wraps around them like an oppressive shroud, and Scully shivers, seeking warmth and comfort by wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

“We should probably go back inside,” Mulder suggests, guiding her towards the cabin's entrance with a hand at the small of her back.

Inside, the air is musty, and Scully wonders about the person who sought refuge here before them. Who’d spend a night out deep in the woods in an abandoned cabin with nothing but an old blanket and a book on mythical creators? Well, aside from them, that is. She throws Mulder a fond sideways glance. Only he would find an outrageous tale about ghosts worth investigating.

“Do you think we're alone here?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mulder pauses, his eyes meeting hers. “I don't know, Scully. There's something strange about this place. Maybe our mysterious visitor with the fascination for mythical creatures will come back.”

Outside, the night deepens, and the woods come alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures. Scully can hear the distant hoot of an owl, and the rustling of leaves in the wind.

Reluctantly, she sits down on the old, worn mattress and tries to get comfortable. She can feel weariness settling in, watching Mulder's flashlight cast long shadows on the walls while he searches through the old shelves.

With a triumphant shout, he holds up a big pack of long matches and walks over to the fireplace. Within a few minutes, he’s built a small fire, its crackling warmth bringing comfort to the cabin. They sit close to the flames, their shoulders touching, and for a moment, Scully forgets about the strange cabin and their predicament.

“You know, Scully,” Mulder begins, his voice soft and reflective, “sometimes I wonder if we're meant to find all the answers we seek.”

She looks at him, captivated by the contemplative look on his face. “What do you mean?” she asks, genuinely curious.

Mulder gazes at the dancing flames. “Maybe it's not about the answers themselves, but about the journey we take to find them. The people we meet, the experiences we share—maybe that’s the real truth.”

Scully takes a moment to process his words. Their shared experiences have certainly been a revelation, even if they didn’t get them all the answers. Yet, she corrects herself.

As the fire crackles before her, Scully's mind wanders back to only a few months before. Surviving cancer had been a deeply transformative experience, one that had forced her to confront her own mortality and reassess her priorities. It had also strengthened her bond with Mulder, bringing them closer together in ways she could have never imagined.

Her gaze flickers to Mulder, his profile illuminated by the flickering flames. He'd been her rock through the toughest times, never wavering in his support and belief in her.

“What do you mean,” she questions.

“Scully, I can't help but feel that we're chasing shadows, quite literally,” Mulder confesses.

“Shadows?”

“Sometimes it feels like we're running in circles. And now, with everything that happened in the past year…” His voice trails off, the memories of her battle with cancer haunting him as well.

“I just can’t help but wonder if this is really the right path anymore. There's been so much evidence that it's all been a lie, you know. Maybe it’s all really about making people believe, so they don’t question anything anymore,” Mulder continues.

“And at what price. It was just too close. If you had died…,” he trails off, looking away.

Scully carefully takes Mulder’s hand, entangling her fingers with his, and squeezes. “Then you would’ve kept looking. And you would’ve found a way to help other women who they experimented on.”

Mulder stays silent, his hand solid and warm in hers. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know if I would have. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

Scully turns back to look into the flames, both sitting in silence.

Chapter 4: Journeys

With no option but to wait for daylight, Mulder tries to lighten the mood with a joke. “You know, Scully, if this turns out to be a ghost, we'll have to rethink all our theories about the afterlife.”

Scully can't help but smile, grateful for his attempt to ease the tension. “I'll leave the ghost theories to you, Mulder. I'm more interested in finding a logical explanation for all of this.”

He chuckles, the sound soothing to her ears. “Ah, but where's the fun in that? Sometimes, we have to embrace the unknown and let go of our need for certainty.”

Scully gives him a playful nudge. “Easy for you to say, Mulder. You thrive on uncertainty.”

He grins, his eyes sparkling with affection. “And you keep me grounded, Scully. We balance each other out.”

They smile at each other, the warmth of the fire and their shared history creating a sense of intimacy.

“You know, Mulder, I never imagined my life would turn out this way,” she admits, her voice soft and introspective.

“What do you mean?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“I mean, I always wanted to be a scientist, to follow the path of reason and logic. I became a medical doctor to help people and a pathologist to get them the justice they deserve. And then I met you, and everything changed. And it's been a rollercoaster ever since,” she explains.

Mulder smiles, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames. “I'm glad you’re on board, Scully. Do you ever regret it?”

Scully looks at him, her face earnest. “Never, Mulder. You've challenged me, pushed me to question my beliefs, and showed me things I couldn’t even imagine. I can't imagine my life without it.”

He turns his hand in hers, intertwining their fingers once more.

“Even when it costs you so much, Scully?” Mulder replies softly, his thumb caressing the back of her hand. “Is it really worth it for you?”

Scully nods, her gaze lingering on their intertwined fingers. “I wish it didn’t cost Missy her life. That’s my biggest regret. And I wish I’d never been abducted. It caused mom so much pain….” Mulder flinches and grips her hand tightly.

“No! Mulder, I don’t blame you for any of that. The only people responsible for that are still out there. And we will find them,” Scully continues. She ducks her head, trying to see his eyes.

“But sometimes, I can't help but wonder if we're chasing the wrong answers. It feels like we're always on the edge, searching for answers that may never come,” Mulder replies.

Scully's gaze softens as she listens to Mulder. She takes a moment to absorb his words. She's faced her own share of skepticism along the way, questioning if their pursuit of the truth will ever get them the answers to their questions. Especially in the last year, when she’d been fighting for her life. The moments of doubt had been outweighed by the profound impact they'd had on each other. Their shared journey had become more than just chasing answers; it had become a testament to the special bond they share.

“You're right, Mulder,” she responds gently, “It can be frustrating, but it's also what keeps us going. The pursuit of the truth, no matter how elusive, is what drives us.”

Scully gives Mulder’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “We may not always find the answers we seek, Mulder, but the journey itself will get us closer. It's what keeps me going, knowing that we're in this together, no matter how challenging it gets.”

Mulder smiles, his eyes warm with appreciation. Their hands remain intertwined, the fire's warmth and their unwavering connection providing comfort in the midst of uncertainty.

Scully leans her head against his shoulder, finding comfort in his presence. “I’ve been thinking a lot since last year. The things I want to do, now that I know I’ll have the chance, the things I never pursued because I thought there was so much time and all the things I still want to prove to myself.”

He wraps an arm around her, pulling her closer. “I understand, Scully.”

She lets out a sigh, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease. “I realized, I want to live up to everyone's expectations, including my own. There's so much pressure. I want to be strong for you, for our work, for my family, but sometimes it feels like I'm failing at everything. It can be exhausting, Mulder.”

He kisses the top of her head, his lips brushing against her hair. “You don't have to be perfect, Scully. We're human, and we're allowed to have doubts and fears. That doesn't make you any less capable or strong. You're not alone in this.”

Scully turns her head and gives Mulder a pointed look. He can’t help but laugh. “I know, I should listen to myself, huh?”

She just turns her head back and puts her head back on his shoulder, his warmth seeping through his coat, warming her cheek.

Their conversation lingers in the air, the weight of Mulder's words resonating in Scully's mind as her eyes start to droop. They settle into their makeshift sleeping arrangements. The crackling of the fire provides a soothing backdrop to their thoughts, and the warmth of their connection lingers even in the silence between them.

Mulder puts the blanket over them both as fully as possible. It’s not much, but with their added body warmth and the small fire it’ll get them through the night.

Just before closing her eyes, Scully glances at Mulder once more, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

In the warmth of the fire's glow, Scully feels a glimmer of hope for the future—now that she has one again. There may not be a ghost or an answer to what that hiker really saw and the world may still be full of questions and secrets, but she knows that she's not alone. She has Mulder by her side, a constant presence in their ever-shifting lives.

Chapter 5: Encounters

As the night wears on, Scully finds herself drifting closer to sleep, lulled by the flickering flames and Mulder's steady presence beside her. But just as she's about to succumb to slumber, a strange noise jolts them awake, their senses instantly on high alert.

“What was that?” Scully whispers, her heart pounding in her chest. The sudden interruption shatters the tranquility of the moment, and the tension returns, reminding them of the mystery they are here for.

Mulder's grip on the flashlight tightens as he sits up, scanning their surroundings for any signs of danger. “I don't know,” he replies in a hushed tone. “Maybe it's a rat.” Mulder silently gets to his feet, with Scully right behind him. Both agents pull their guns.

They slowly start exploring the cabin again, their flashlights casting long, wavering shadows into the dark corners. Scully's instincts are on high alert, and every creak of the floorboards and rustle of the wind outside makes the hairs on her arms stand up.

“Mulder, do you think we're alone here?” she whispers, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting someone—or something—to be lurking in the shadows.

Mulder's eyes scan the dimly lit interior of the cabin. “I'm not sure, Scully. It's possible that whoever sought refuge here before may be back again.”

Just then, a strange noise echoes through the cabin, causing both of them to freeze. It's the soft, almost ethereal sound again they heard a few hours ago. Like the whisper of a ghostly presence. Scully's heart pounds in her chest as she grips her flashlight tighter.

“What is that?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mulder raises an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “I'm not sure, but let's find out.”

With caution, they move toward the source of the sound, their flashlights sweeping over every corner of the cabin. And that's when they see him—a complete stranger, standing in the shadows near the far corner of the room.

He's an old man, hunched over with age, dressed in tattered clothes that seem to blend with the surrounding darkness. His hair is a wild mass of curly hair, and his eyes hold a depth of wisdom that seems to pierce through Mulder and Scully's souls.

Neither of them speaks, unsure of what to make of this unexpected visitor, their guns trained on their strange late night guest. How has he managed to find them in the middle of the woods, in the dead of night? And how did he get into the cabin without them noticing?

Mulder takes a step forward, his voice steady but cautious. “Who are you? Are you okay? How did you get here?”

The old man remains silent for a moment, his gaze shifting between Mulder and Scully as if assessing them. Then, finally, he speaks, his voice soft and weathered. “I apologize for intruding. I sought shelter and thought this cabin was empty. My name is Peter.”

Scully and Mulder exchange glances, uncertain about how to proceed. Peter's presence seems almost ethereal, and the circumstances are strange, but he appears to be unarmed and doesn’t really pose any danger.

“And why are you out in the middle of the night?” Scully asks suspiciously, her gun never wavering.

“I’m searching for something and the darkness surprised me,” he explains.

Peter slowly moves closer to where they have set up their blanket. Scully raises her gun and takes a step back. The old man stops immediately and holds his hands up.

“Do you mind if I sit down for a bit? It should get light out in only a few more hours, and then I'm on my way,” he asks Scully.

Scully hesitates, but then lowers her gun and Mulder follows suit.

“Yes, have a seat, Peter. I’m afraid we only have one blanket and this old mattress, but it should be better than having to stay out in the woods,” Mulder explains.

“What are you doing here anyway? This is not exactly a place for city folks like you,” Peter mumbles. He slowly lowers himself to the mattress and sighs when his knees pop.

“We’re with the FBI, and we’re here to investigate the sighting of a ghost. We’re waiting for morning as well to get back into town,” Mulder continues, watching the visitor carefully. “Did you ever hear anything about that?”

Peter chuckles. “A ghost? Well. There are many old stories about ghosts being told around here. You know, those dark woods are made for scary tales.”

Scully snorts before sitting back down on their blanket and giving Mulder a pointed look.

Mulder gives her a chagrined smile and sits down as well.

“Can’t argue with that, I guess.”

Chapter 6: Shadows

The old man moves his hands closer to the warmth of the flames but stays well away from the fire.

“So, a ghost is what you're looking for. Pretty unusual activity for the FBI, I’d say,” he gives them a sideways glance. “Well, since you like ghost stories, let me share a mesmerizing tale I once heard, of a man who was also searching,” Peter begins. “It might even relate to your ghost—and your search.

“A long while ago, not far away from this cabin and in these woods, lived a man who was burdened with the weight of life's struggles. You see, he'd been an outcast all his life, and all he wanted was to find the purpose of his life.

“He figured, if he found the meaning of life, his life would become wonderful. He'd finally have the answers to all his questions, he'd know what to do, and everything would have a purpose. So he set out one day to find this elusive purpose of his life. He met many people along the way, some of them happy, and some bogged down by their own existence. One day, fate had a peculiar twist in store for him, leading him to a mysterious encounter that would prove to change the course of his life forever.

“Amid the busy streets and bustling crowds of a big city, a figure draped in a mysterious gray cloak appeared before him. This enigmatic stranger, whom the man knew nothing about, offered him a tempting deal—one that would grant him great wisdom and answers to all the questions he'd been seeking. It was beyond his imagination.

“All he would need to do was one little thing. He'd have to sell the cloaked man his shadow. The man thought for a bit, but then decided there was no real use for a shadow anyway. And if it would get him all the answers, he'd been looking for, his quest would finally be complete. It seemed too good to be true.

“He agreed to the tempting proposition, unknowingly sealing his fate. The man in the gray coat smiled, and before the man could think any further about what he'd agreed to, the stranger was gone. And all of a sudden, everything seemed clear to him. Every question he'd been wondering about immediately had an answer in his mind as soon as he thought about it. And suddenly it all made sense. With newfound wisdom at his disposal, he decided to finally return home, hoping to escape his past hardships and live a perfect life from now on.

“But, as we often find in life, every choice has consequences. His decision led to an unforeseen circumstance—instead of being welcomed with open arms, people still avoided him. He now might have all the answers, but time and people had moved on. And no one really cared about his answers anymore. Even his own family just wanted to forget about all the old questions and hard times of the past. Some had even already passed on, and he hadn't been able to say goodbye.

“Instead of the wonderful life he’d hoped for, he became an outcast for a different reason than before. He didn't have a shadow, and people quickly avoided him and considered him an object of fear and curiosity. And he lacked any purpose. Everything seemed unimportant and trivial now, and he spent all his days walking around the town and the woods to find something that could return the purpose to his life, his quest for answers had been.

“The emptiness of his existence weighed heavily on him as he tried to find a place to belong. And he realized that all the answers could never give him the closure he'd really been looking for. Instead, they'd turned him into even more of an outcast.

“In his desperate need to understand, he set out to undo his plight, and so the man embarked on a new journey to locate the elusive figure who had changed his life forever. And once again, he encountered people who both hindered and helped him on his new quest.

“One day, he came face to face with the enigmatic stranger once more. At that moment, as he sought redemption, he discovered the true value of his own identity and the significance of embracing oneself. He'd sold himself for his quest for answers. And so the man found that nothing could replace the essence of who he was. In the end, it's all hollow. His quest for purpose and finding answers was all nothing when he had to pay with his own shadow.”

The old man pauses and stares into the dying flames of their little fire from his spot at the far edge of the old mattress. Mulder and Scully watch him silently, Mulder fascinated, Scully thoughtful and a bit skeptical.

“You may wonder why I'm telling you all this. Well, we're in this man's old cabin right now. This is where he used to live many, many years ago. Deep in the woods, seeking his purpose and later, after his return until the day he died,” Peter continues.

Scully raises an eyebrow. “And he didn’t have a shadow.”

Peter smiles and the skin around his eyes crinkles as he looks at Scully. “That’s how it’s told, yes. It’s said that he’s appeared to several people over the years, that have been lost, looking for their purpose in life.”

The cabin is eerily silent. Suddenly, the last flames flicker and die, plunging them into complete darkness except for the still-glowing ash.

“Well, as exciting as that was, I think we're out of light and shadows now as well,” Mulder jokes uneasily. “Let's try to get some sleep, and we can discuss this some more in the morning.”

*** A/N:

The story Peter tells Mulder and Scully is based on the 1814 novella "Peter Schlemihl's Miraculous Story" by Adelbert von Chamisso. I've adapted it slightly to make it fit better with Mulder and Scully‘s experience.

Chapter 7: Light

As dawn breaks, Scully and Mulder awake to find Peter gone. The soft rays of sunlight filter through the trees, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the forest floor.

“I can't believe he disappeared like that,” Scully says, her voice tinged with a mix of bewilderment and curiosity.

Mulder nods, his gaze distant as he contemplates the possibilities. “It's like he was never really here. But I can't shake the feeling that there's more to this than meets the eye.”

“Maybe he left early and didn’t want to wake us,” Scully says, and Mulder nods slowly.

“Please don’t tell me you think he was your ghost!” She exclaims.

Mulder keeps looking at the trees, trying to find any trace of their midnight visitor. “What did you think about that story he told us? About the man who sold his shadow?”

“I think it’s an old ghost story people tend to make up when it’s cold and dark outside and there’s not much to do except entertain each other,” Scully answers while turning around, eyeing her cellphone in disapproval.

“Still no signal,” she sighs. Mulder checks his phone as well and nods. “Mine neither.”

They gather their sparse belongings and prepare to leave the cabin. The air is cool and crisp, hinting at the approaching autumn. The leaves rustle softly in the breeze, creating a soothing background to nature's sounds.

“Let’s try the car one more time. Maybe it’ll start now,” Mulder suggests. He pulls the keys out of his pocket and gets in the driver seat.

The car starts without any issues.

Mulder stares at Scully through the windshield, his implications clear. Scully raises an eyebrow, her scientific mind seeking a logical explanation. She gets into the passenger seat, more than ready to leave this strange place behind.

As they’re slowly making their way back, Mulder's mind races with theories, and he can't resist sharing his thoughts with Scully. “You know, I've been thinking. Peter never stepped into the light last night. I don’t remember seeing his shadow either.”

Scully snorts and crosses her arms. “Mulder, there’s no such thing as an object without shadow when there’s light around them. It’s simply not possible.”

He hesitates, his eyes searching hers for understanding. “I know it sounds far-fetched, but think about it. We never saw his shadow, and now he's gone without a trace. It's like he was never really here.”

Scully considers his theory but remains skeptical. “Mulder, there has to be a rational explanation for this. That man was there last night. And since there are no such things as ghosts, he most certainly also had a shadow.”

Mulder stays silent, contemplating the events of last night. He can't shake the feeling that Peter's presence has something to do with their conversation earlier. About the purpose of his quest and the meaning of life.

Scully is just as silent, staring out of the window, deep in thought. She squints her eyes against the morning sun. The encounter has stirred something deep inside both of them, leaving them once again with more questions than answers. But this time the questions may be answers as well. Only to different questions.

As they get closer to town, Mulder turns to Scully and grins. “Hey, Scully, why do ghosts make good cheerleaders? Because they have a lot of spirit!”

She rolls her eyes, but can't help a small smile. “Only you would make a joke like that, Mulder.”

“Well, you know me, always trying to keep things entertaining,” he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Entertaining is one way to put it,” she retorts playfully.

“Ah, come on, Scully, where's your sense of adventure? You've got to admit, life with me is never boring,” he says with a grin.

“That's true,” she admits, her smile growing more genuine. “You certainly have a way of keeping things interesting.”

Mulder winks at her. “And you have a way of getting me back down to earth. We make a great team, don't we?”

“We do,” Scully agrees, smiling at their familiar banter. “Even when you lead us into some of the most bizarre situations.”

“Hey, it's all in the name of the truth!”

They smile at each other, both comfortable in their car in the middle of nowhere, as they continue their journey. The cabin with its open questions fades slowly behind, but they’ll keep finding comfort in the journey itself, even if the destination remains ambiguous.

The End ***

Thank you so much for reading. You can also find this fic on AO3.

[bopeisdope]

This is one of the kindest things anyone has ever done, @sirofreak reacting to my fic!! Im so glad you liked it! I'm going to react to your reactions lol. Spoilers down below!!

I'm honored that this is the first fanfiction you ever read! I've written two other unwind fanfics but this one I'm most proud of, you can check them out if you want! There are some amazing fandom writers out there and even a good number of unwind fanfics on a03 and ff.net

HAYCONRISA FOREVER

having Miracolina babysit mah-pee was super convenient because I haven't written her character POV since I don't know how yet, and I had to get the kinkajou out of the way XD

since I didn't have service or access to the books this weekend I totally just guessed how to spell mah-pee. I still haven't checked it to see if it's right

I wanted Grace to be there because I love her character but I ended up writing less of her than I thought :( maybe next chapter!!!

I take your argent and grace friendship bracelet hc and put into my au where I hc that neither of them got soulmate bracelets so they made sibling ones for eachother

I put those skinner sibling crumbs, including the friendship bracelets, for you!!

I've been reading soulmate aus in other fandoms and it inspired me to mash some together and create my own (it's probably out there somewhere but I haven't seen it)

I was also super interested in poly relationships in a soulmate au and how that would work which led me to choosing bracelets

EHEHEHEISIDHEH the fact that you pulled a quote from my fic to gush about makes me so so so happy! I also adore the line about Connor having enough love for 2 soulmates because deep down he's really a big romantic

Again, HAYCONRISA FOR THE WIN

Lev and Connor have been through so much, so they can relate with eachother. They also have this great brother dynamic that I love writing so that was the part that came easiest to me

LOL I WILL KEEP WRITING CONNOR ANGST NO MATTER WHAT MWHAHAHAHAHAHHA

 Me? Dropping a new fic? I can’t believe it either! 

I took a roadtrip the last 4 days to a remote house in the woods so I had 0 service. I took the car ride as a chance to write this! It was a lot of fun! It makes me so happy to be able to add something to this little fandom with this because I feel like everyone is doing a great job! People are posting fanart, text posts, and headcanons and I felt like I wasn’t giving back. Since I can’t draw, I’m trying to learn how to write so that I can make wonderful stories with these characters and contribute to the *hopeful* revival of the unwind fandom!

[mybrainisrottingat3am]

I have started writing a Hunger Games Unwind AU called Watching the Minutemen :]

I will be releasing the first part soon

[sirofreak]

I’ma just start putting my reactions here under the cut instead of in tags because I’m running out of tags lmao

IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ALL WEEK YIPPEE

Grace girlbossing as per usual love to see

*ANTIQUE SHOP FLASHBACKS*

My girl fighting some demons rn

Wait Grace was the older sibling

Oh no did I get smth wrong about my blorbos

Anyways Grace just lost the game 😭😭

I’m already so sad about all this

ALL SHE WANTS IS TO SEE HER BROTHER AGAIN AAAAA

Ok Angst is temporarily over its friend time

Hi everyone glad y’all are doing good

Grace truly fighting her inner demons :,[

OMFG IS IT HIM

ARGIE!! my favorite boyloser

*ANTIQUE SHOP FLASHBACKS* part 2

Me when Undivided chapter 31 page 209

GRACIE NO I PROMISE ARGENT WASNT UNWOUND

“that would go beyond losing the game to losing herself” WHAT IF I CRIED RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW

THERE HE ISSS

REUNIONNNN YAAYYY

Ok Angst time is back

All the emotions rn

Bros been thinking of his sister this whole I just AAAHHHH

ARGENT GROVELING TIME YIPPEE

I’m so happy for them TuT

Ok now both go see your friends

Aww my boy argies proud of himself :,)

EPIC PARALLEL MOMENT

OMG IM FEELING ALL THE EMOTIONS RN I LOVED THIS SM

Praying I’m not too late because of school!!

Anyways, post undivided/unbound, grace and argent reunion fic please? Like, after the events of Unbound, Grace and the rest of the main gang meetup again and they’re all hanging out on some unknown port. Meanwhile Argent’s there running errands for Divan. The two bump into each other and hurt/comfort reunion ensues!! Also I wanna see Argent grovel for Grace’s forgiveness hehehe (Also the Grace Redemption Arc continues wooo)

'one more game to play ' - grace skinner

masterlist

Grace Skinner is doing well, all things considered. She is not dead. No one wants her dead, either, except perhaps some of the adults down at the park, the ones who sit in front of their chess boards rain or shine in search of a good opponent. It’s not Grace’s fault if they fell for her strategical schemes. Perhaps they should practice more.

Aside from the chess players, though, Grace is fine. She’s doing well as a new entrepreneur of tissue synthesis technology. Her friends, for the most part, are still whole, although Connor Lassiter has a new crop of scars that he doesn’t seem all that keen to show off. They’re getting better, slowly, and everything is fine.

It’s like a game that Grace can play, and she’s excellent at games. Whenever she catches herself slipping, she thinks about good things, like the health of her friends and the success of her latest enterprise. She takes walks. She clears her head, and she doesn’t think about what she shouldn’t. There are topics that are off-limits. Grace knows the rules, and she follows them.

Right now, she’s on her way to meet up with some of her friends. They’ve arranged for everyone to gather at a nearby pier. Apparently, the sea air will do them some good. Plus, the fresh breeze tends to restore all of them to finer spirits. Farther away from the city, they won’t be exposed to things that bring back bad memories, like the precise scent of smoke that burns down an antiques shop, or the routine shuffle of police footsteps outside a hiding place.

No, no. Grace reroutes her thoughts again. She was close there, but she won’t lose the game. She’s been playing it steadily for a while now. They all have. They stick to their houses or go somewhere so far away that no one even knows who they are, but it’s just different versions of the same idea. Different rulebooks, maybe, or different players, but the same damn thing in the end.

At the crosswalk in front of her, two children carefully walk into the road, eyes wide to avoid any cars. There isn’t that much traffic this time of day, but the older one still takes the hand of the younger anyway, ushering them across with far more gravity than the situation perhaps requires. She sees their faces, a boy and a girl, maybe siblings. Grace can remember when she had an older brother who would do the same thing for her, before–

Her breath catches in her throat, and Grace remembers.

She’s lost the game again.

Grace doesn’t realize she’s stopped walking until she starts attracting funny looks. Quickly, she starts moving again, picking up the pace. She doesn’t want to be late to the meetup. Tardiness will attract questions, like just what she was doing to cause her to be distracted. Grace is always precise, perfectly on time. She doesn’t usually make mistakes like this. She doesn’t usually lose the game when she’s so certain about winning.

She keeps walking, passing the two maybe-siblings and leaving them far behind. They don’t matter. They’re just kids. Grace is older than them by many years and many memories. She does not have to look at them and wish that she could have her brother back, even for the time it took to cross the street, even for one half-moment when she could just talk to him and say–

Something, maybe. Grace doesn’t even know. She doesn’t have to know. Grace doesn’t know where Argent Skinner is and she probably never will. Connor told her that her brother was alive, but even he didn’t know where Argie had ended up. Her brother is pretty good at keeping to himself, even if he’s better when he has someone to talk to. That person used to be Grace. She doesn’t know who’s taken her place, but she hopes they’re good enough.

Most of her friends have arrived by the time Grace shows up at the pier. She waves hello to the ones she knows best, and casts a hopefully warm glance towards the ones that are more like acquaintances. Connor gestures for her to join him and Risa in a lively debate; apparently, they encountered an open-ended riddle while traveling here, and wish to have her input. 

The discussion is broadened to the group at large, and in between trying to figure it out, people start talking about where they’ve been and what they’ve been up to since the last time they were all together. Hayden’s trying his hand at public speaking, although he says it feels different when many people are actually watching him instead of just listening along. Lev has been working with Miracolina on how to prepare past tithes for the future they never planned on reaching. And Grace, of course, has the organ printer. All good things.

Still, she can’t help her gaze from drifting listlessly from the many faces on the pier back towards the bustling business of the port. Grace likes spending time with her friends, really she does, but having this many people here gives her the expectation that she’s got to perform for them in some way, be a better version of herself without quite knowing how, and it tends to stress her out a little. Looking at the bricks of the low buildings, watching the cars driving back and forth across the roads, is a lot easier to focus on than the discordant harmonies of so many voices.

Grace can feel her pulse starting to come back down again, and then she sees a silhouette slipping out of an open door. Their back is to her, so she can’t make out their face, but the advantage of spending one’s entire life around one single person is that you tend to remember them, and Grace swears she knows this person perfectly. The swing of his arms as he walks, the absentminded tilt of his head. This– this is Argent. Impossibly, it’s Argent. Grace’s brother. The reason she has to keep distracting herself from the awful truth that the closest part of her family is gone.

Grace’s breath catches in her throat. Truth be told, she didn’t even know if Argent was alive. He certainly hadn’t reached out to her, but then again, he would have no way of doing so. Vividly, Grace’s mind flashes back to a terrible night in Ohio, when she had seen a man she had thought was Argent, only to see part of her brother’s face on a different guy’s body. What if this is the same thing all over again? What if he really was unwound, even despite being old enough to avoid the limit, and one recipient just happened to get all of her brother.

Grace should look away and spare herself another horrorshow. She can’t take another brother-based heartbreak, that would go beyond losing the game to losing herself. Still, the silhouette mocks her silently as it walks away. It looks an awful lot like Argent, doesn’t it?

She can’t take it anymore and murmurs an excuse to her friends before heading off back down the pier towards the town. The young man who could be Argent Skinner isn’t walking all that fast, ambling in the vague direction of his destination, wherever that may be. By contrast, Grace is setting new records for speed walking, fists pumping as she hurries towards her supposed brother.

Just before she reaches him, Grace hangs back a little, giving herself time to judge the situation. If she’s wrong, she’s wrong now, and she’ll know it. However, the more Grace looks, the more she’s certain that this is indeed Argent. She steadies herself slightly, curling her hands into tight fists, and says uncertainly, “Argie?”

The figure stands stock-still, all momentum blown out of him like a limp sail on dead seas. Slowly, he turns around. There’s a moment before he completely faces Grace, a moment in which time feels as if it takes twice as long to pass. The instant of hesitation lasts for infinities, and then the figure stands directly in front of her and she knows– she knows it’s her brother. Knows it like breathing, like plotting out the winning move in a chess match. This is Argent, and she is Grace, and they are back together again.

For a while, they don’t say anything at all, just taking in the sight of each other. At last, Grace understands just what was done to her brother– half of his face is still scarred, as it was when Connor Lassiter attacked him when escaping his capture, but half of it is even more so damaged, still vaguely pink and irritated from the lingering aftereffects of a biobandage.

“Your face,” Grace says uncertainly, then immediately wishes she hadn’t.

Argent’s hand rises up instinctively– not to the fresh scars, as Grace had assumed he would, but to the old ones, the wounds Connor had given him. It’s as if he’s afraid that the other side of his face, too, would be ripped away when he least expected it. Dear God. What have they done to him?

“Never trust a parts pirate,” Argent growls.

So that’s what had happened. It makes sense that the man with Argent’s face that Grace encountered before he burned down the antique store would be a parts pirate. It also makes sense that Argent had tried to trust one. Lonely, hopeless Argent, who kidnapped the Akron AWOL then lost it all because he just had to post a selfie of the two of them together, who had joined up with a disreputable parts pirate because he wanted some grand expedition of revenge. Faceless Argent, who bears a countenance of wounds marking both times he learned his lesson.

“I missed you,” Grace says unexpectedly. “You didn’t call.”

Argent squints at her. “How could I? You left home and so did I. ‘Sides, I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me, on account of you running off with Connor and me trying to hunt you two down.” Upon seeing Grace’s crestfallen face, he adds hastily, “That didn’t mean I didn’t want to, though. Christ, Gracie, you’re my sister. That might not mean a whole lot at times, but I’ve felt rough about it ever since. Seeing you is good, though.”

“Thanks,” Grace whispers. All of a sudden, she feels eleven again, never quite saying the right thing to her older brother, not enough to make her one of his friends but enough to be a sister, as always. Well, maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world. Being a sister. It means she would feel less alone than she had before.

“I owe you more than that,” Argent confesses. “I’ve treated you something awful, haven’t I? Enough to make you run off with Connor and not come back. I’ve overlooked you, Gracie. I’ve treated you badly. It just tore me up inside, thinking that maybe you’d get hurt because of stuff I did. Say you’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

Grace hesitates a bit, mulling his words over, then nods at last. “I do forgive you, Argie.”

Her brother’s face washes over in relief. “I’m mighty glad to hear that, I have to say.”

She chuckles. “I’m mighty glad to hear you apologize. Thought you never would.”

“So did I,” he admits.

They stand for a few moments in awkward silence, not sure what to do now that the obvious has been taken care of. Then, in a sudden flash of reality, Grace remembers the group still bunched out on the pier. “A couple of us are hanging out past the docks. Do you want to join us?”

There’s a careful light behind Argent’s weatherbeaten eyes. “Are you sure? I reckon they might not be the happiest to see me right now.”

“Don’t mind that,” Grace says with a wave of her hand. “You saved Connor when he was unwound, right? He told me about that.”

“The Akron AWOL is saying I saved his life?” Argent asks, unconsciously puffing out his chest a little.

“He is,” Grace confirms. “Come on, you can hear him say it for yourself.”

With that, she turns and starts walking back towards the pier. A few moments later, she hears Argent following her. He catches up when they’re about to cross the street, insisting on going a half step earlier so he can watch for cars. Grace instantly remembers the younger pair of siblings she’d seen just an hour or so earlier. She’s got her brother back, she realizes with piercing clarity. They’re together again, the two Skinners, watching out for each other once more.

And with that, Grace wins the game.

requested by @sirofreak, i hope you enjoy!

unwind tag list: @reinekes-fox, @locke-writes

all tags list: @wordsarelife