#hell the bandages in her case are a thought out decision for emergencies

[adastra121]

Touchstarved OC Backstory: Alon the Hound

tw: abuse, child abuse (a super brief mention and not focused on the MC, but take care just in case!)

Alon grew up in the walled city of Acaelia, one of the old cities that had survived Fogfall, but one with a huge wealth disparity between the affluent citizens of the Inner District and the impoverished working class of the Outer District.

She was born in the Outer District and abandoned to an orphanage at a very young age. They don’t really remember their family anymore, but she does wonder from time to time where they went, if they managed to make it out of the Outer District and so on.

Alon’s childhood friend was an orphan named Erick. They grew up on the streets together. He was the only one who knew about their curse, who saw its effects and didn’t run. Probably because she once used it to save him when they met.

When Alon was young, Erick caught her digging through their rubbish for food. Erick snuck her some spare food from their kitchen, his father caught him and beat him in retaliation.

Alon was just a child, she wasn’t strong enough to stop him, so she pulled the old and worn mitt off her hand and used her curse. The man went mad and lunged for Alon instead, poisoned with a deranged urge to kill her, heedless of everything else around them.

Just as Alon could have run earlier, Erick could have made his escape as soon as his father's attention was turned away. Just like Alon, he doesn't. Erick manages to knock him out with a wooden plank and they escape together.

They never see that hateful, angry man again. He could be dead, he could be imprisoned by the city. He’s essentially dead where it matters, though, become a zombie of sorts to the madness Alon inflicted on him.

Ever since Alon helped Erick, they were inseparable, sticking together through thick and thin.

They were sent to the same poor orphanage in the Outer District.

That place was pretty shitty. Abusive teachers and caregivers, food shortages, and so few resources that it was normal for the older children to form their own small trade businesses within the orphanage. Cold medicine for three days worth of food, a thick blanket for a pair of new shoes, a bag of Inner District candy for a pack of playing cards.

Alon and Erick were the most skilled thieves in the orphanage, who made frequent trips to the Inner District to busk and con their way into wealthy people’s pockets.

Alon was usually the actor while Erick kept an eye on everything from the shadows. Alon was good with grifting, pickpocketing, and most importantly, jumping right into whatever action was needed for the job, which usually involved causing a huge disaster as a distraction or making a quick getaway. Meanwhile, Erick strategized, memorized escape routes, planned for the unexpected, and made sure they stayed out of trouble.

One night, they made a pact to become the best thieves in the world so they could get enough money and resources to run away from the wretched walled city and find a cure for Alon’s curse.

Time passed and Alon and Erick formed the Greycloaks, a group of young thieves and mercenaries with Erick as their leader. They do jobs for themselves but they also have a whole Robin Hood-esque “steal from the rich and give to the poor” routine. They take care of those in the Outer District, basically.

Unfortunately, their deeds steadily attract the attention of both the Inner District elite and the Outer District kingpins.

Eventually, Alon pulled an ambitious heist and pissed off all the wrong people and now, everyone’s calling for their head.

The Greycloaks planned another mission, a last ditch effort to climb out of hot water. Alon realized too late that it was a setup.

There’s a fight, it’s bloody, Erick slashes a scar on the right side of Alon’s face after their glasses are knocked off in the scuffle. He picks them up and gives them back to her later, because she needs them to see.

Erick betrayed Alon for the good of the Greycloaks. The crew needed the money for the oncoming war, and Erick, having grown into his leadership role, no longer planned to flee the city like they'd dreamed when they were kids.

In the chaos, Alon manages to escape and Erick gives chase. Alon's good at running away, but Erick had dodged and escaped city guards with her since they were children. And he knows them. Eventually, he corners her and they end up just the two of them, just like the beginning. 

They fight and it is bloody and desperate. But Erick had always been the better fighter between the two of them.

His blade ends up just shy of her neck when he sees it. Fog grey and cracks of gold, a mere inch from his face. They’re at a standstill.

Alon’s eyes are wide and feral, a million different emotions flashing through them in that one moment. Shock, horror, disgust, and desperation.

Then it all disappears. Their eyes go blank, and the thief drops their hand. “Do it.”

Alon was left with barely enough to get out of the city and reach Eridia. As far as everyone else knows, they’re dead. No point going after the Greycloaks now.

“This is all I can do. Get out of Acaelia. Don’t ever return.”

Alon’s feelings about her crew’s betrayal are an entire mess.

They say they’re over it. They’re not over it.

They understand Erick and the Greycloaks’ betrayal. She gets it, really, she does — so there’s no point in getting angry about them or crying over them or missing them. She’s fine.

Alon doesn’t hold grudges. Or, well, she’s trying really hard not to dwell on it.

And if they drunkenly belt out an entire set of angry, heartbroken breakup songs with personalized lyrics in the local taverns, that’s neither here nor there…

She’d say with their whole chest that they weren’t singing about anyone in particular.

“You stink, where’s the bard?” “You want the bard, buddy? The bard’s gone! Sometimes the performers you want on your stage leave and you’re left with nothing but shit booze and silence and the crushing absence of the music that you should’ve appreciated when you still had them!” *said bard slowly approaching the stage* “Um. Sorry, I think it’s time to start my set now? I’m going to have to ask you to step off the stage.”

Alon doesn’t hate Erick. They can’t. And what also sucks is that Erick never hated her and still doesn’t — she knows this. No, they love each other and he still betrayed her. And damn, doesn’t that just fuck you up, knowing that someone who genuinely loves you can still willfully hurt you like that.

“I hear a lot of people are nervous about going to Eridia because there are more Monsters there compared to other cities, but so far, no Monster has made an escape pact with me during childhood, co-started a crew just close and crazy enough to be family, then used said crew-slash-family to ambush, rob, and promptly exile me from my hometown, haha, so…you know. How much harder could they hit, really? So much for ‘thick as thieves’…‘But, oh, what if they try to kill you?’ Yeah, the guy I used to bunk with already tried — and let me tell ya, nothing’s more insulting than an attempted murder by someone who used to hog the blanket and shove you off the bed, when you’re both on the. Top. Bunk. I think if anyone has a right to kill somebody in that situation, it should be me! So to answer your question, good sir, yeah, I’d shag a Monster. Or at the very least, kiss with tongue.”

I also made this playlist of songs that make me think of Alon and Erick's relationship:

"Lost Boy" by Ruth B

"A Million Dreams" by Hugh Jackman, Michelle Williams, and Ziv Zaifman

"Secret Worlds" by The Amazing Devil

"Fair" by The Amazing Devil

"You're My Best Friend" by Queen

"Until the End" by Chloe Ament

"Wild Blue Yonder" by The Amazing Devil

"The Moon Will Sing" by The Crane Wives

"Can't Catch Me Now" by Olivia Rodrigo

“Burn Butcher Burn” Cover by Fruitlegs

"The One That Got Away" Cover by Brielle Von Hugel

“What Could Have Been” by Sting ft. Ray Chen

“Good Riddance” by Darren Korb ft. Ashley Barett

"Francesca" by Hozier

I never really decided whether Alon and Erick are just extremely close friends or at-one-point lovers or angsty, pining idiots who never confessed nor got together but somehow still had the most dramatic breakup. All I know for sure is that they're exes.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Memories

Summary: When Dean discovers the reader has abilities she’s never told him about, he breaks things off. But when she wanders back into the Winchester’s lives a year later, he starts to realize there’s more to the situation than just a few lies...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Case Fic

Word Count: 8,000ish

Warnings: language, angst, mentioned past abuse/violence, angst, sprinkle of fluff

A/N: Also written for @spndeanbingo​​

_____

Exactly three years and twenty two days after meeting the Winchesters it happened. Two and a half years of dating Dean. Countless nights in motel rooms, in the bunker, on hunts. Cuts, stitches, laughs. Colds and fevers. Being worried sick over one another and nearly dying for each other more than once.

You finally did it.

Dean saw it.

And he was so angry you didn’t even know how to respond.

You didn’t even say a word as he threw a pair of special cuffs on you. You didn’t mention how you weren’t a demon and the cuffs were useless on you. You didn’t put up a fight when you were sat down in the backseat and he drove the two of you back to the bunker.

You were quiet as you got out of the car, Dean not even saying a word as you headed straight for the dungeon without being told. He slammed the door shut after you as you sighed. You took a seat in the chair and slipped out of the cuffs with a little effort, the door opening not long after.

“How did you do that? The cuffs. You’re a demon,” said Dean as he walked straight over to you. 

“I’m not a demon,” you said. “You know it’s me, Y/N. Just-”

“What the hell are you,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you, his hand reaching behind his back and pulling out an angel blade.

“I’m human. I just…” you trailed off as you looked at your lap.

“Just what,” he said, grabbing your chin and lifting your head up.

“Do not treat me like I’m some monster. I saved your life two hours ago. You would be dead if I hadn’t done that. Do not treat me like the bad guy,” you said. He dropped his hand and you saw him hold up the blade.

“Talk.”

“I have certain...abilities,” you said. “One’s I haven’t used in years.”

“So you’ve been lying to me for years then, hm?” he said. 

“It’s not the abilities that pisses you off. It’s that I never told you, isn’t it,” you said. Dean cleared his throat and started to walk away, shoving the blade in his back pocket before he returned with crossed arms. “Dean-”

“You saved me, you get a pass. You have ten minutes to load up your stuff and leave,” he said.

“Dean. I-”

“This isn’t a white lie, Y/N,” he snapped, his face hard as you stood up. “This...this is whatever trust we had being over. If I can’t trust you, I can’t be near you. It’s that simple.”

“I never intended to use those abilities ever again. It’s not something hereditary. It would never have been of any consequence to anyone. I’m human. I didn’t tell you-”

“You didn’t tell me. I told you so much shit,” he said, the hard exterior starting to crack. “I told you about hell. About all the shit I did to souls. About the shit that was done to me. I never told anyone that. No one. That’s just one thing. I told you all of it. Every goddamn second and you...you…”

“It’s a very long story,” you said quietly. “A very long and horrible story that I was too scared to ever tell you. So I lied. I lied about a lot.”

“I don’t even know you,” he said. You reached out to grab his hand but he stepped away.

“Dean, I’m not gonna hurt you,” you said, trying to make your voice as soft as possible.

“You already did,” he said dryly, closing his eyes. “Please go. Don’t come back.”

“I-”

“I’m going out. Be gone by the time I get back.”

One Year Later

“Dean, we got another one,” said Sam. You lifted your head wearily, blinking your eyes open to spot Sam looking down at you. “Y/N?”

“‘ammy,” you mumbled, shutting your eyes again. Within a few seconds you were lifted up in his strong arms. You were drifting in and out, suddenly in the backseat of Baby and then in the infirmary in the bunker. After a little while you opened your eyes and sat up, feeling a bandage on your head. You swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood, immediately plopping back down.

“Sit,” said Dean. You looked behind yourself, Dean standing at a table, most of the lights in the room dimmed down. He spun around with a bowl in his hands and a tray of supplies. You recognized the needle and he was ripping off the gauze and stitching up your forehead before you knew it.

You hissed and he said nothing.

“Cas should be back in the morning. He can heal you then,” he said.

He worked quietly for a few minutes, new gauze stuck on your head when he was finished. He quickly left and hit off the light. You sat there until you heard footsteps, Sam poking his head in and carrying a tray with grilled cheese and tomato soup.

“Hey,” he said, setting it down on the nightstand.

“Hi, Sam,” you said.

“You were out most of the day. I thought you might be hungry,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Where did you go? You were here and then one day, you were gone. It’s not like you to screw up a hunt like that either.”

“I broke Dean’s trust,” you said. 

“There’s more to it than that,” he said.

“I’m a monster,” you said, laughing dryly when Sam stared at you. “I’m human but I’m a monster.”

“You’re one of the kindest people I know,” said Sam.

“I should go,” you said as you got to your feet. You took a leery step forward and another, Sam grabbing your hand.

“Y/N. What’s going on? You’re not a monster,” he said.

“Yes, I am. Thank you for trying to save me, Sam. But you can’t,” you said. You shrugged out of his grip and took a deep breath. You wound up outside of the bunker, by the bottom of the hill. Your head was spinning but you had enough head start that he wouldn’t find you.

You were staring at the river’s water when you heard a branch snap behind you and a flashlight light up the ground nearby.

“Not a very good hiding spot,” said Dean.

“I thought it was,” you said, closing your eyes, resting your chin on your knees again. “I’m too tired to fight Dean.”

“Good. It means I’ll win then,” he said. He stood next to you, clicking off the flashlight. “You told me about this spot, you know.”

“Once I told you.”

“I used to listen to you,” he said. 

“I don’t care about a scar on my forehead, Dean,” you said. “I’m not going back.”

“Rookie move getting caught on a hunt like that,” he said. “I thought you had super powers.”

“There’s a cost to using them,” you said quietly.

“You never said that before.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said.

“What does it cost?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” you whispered.

“Your soul?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “The only thing it ever cost me was you. I’m still a monster and a liar. Using them just reminds me of that.”

“Sammy mentioned you look ill,” said Dean. “I thought you looked scared.”

“You’d be doing me a favor by using that angel blade on me at this point,” you said.

“I’ve never wanted to kill you. I’m not going to kill you. You broke us was all,” he said.

“Yes. I did. So why are you here?” you asked.

“I heard there was a long and horrible story, that it might help me understand,” he said.

“No,” you said. He bumped your shoulder and you looked over at him. He stared and swallowed, glancing out at the water.

“Why not?” he asked.

“The time for that was a year ago. You didn’t want to hear it and I respected that. Respect my decision,” you said.

“Alright,” he said, sliding his hand into your coat pocket. You reached inside and felt the ball shape, narrowing your eyes. “Hex bag. You’re coming back with me.”

“First you tell me to go away. Now you make me come back. Take it out and let me leave, Dean,” you said.

“Not without that story. It’s a dick move, trust me, I know,” he said. You plucked out the hex bag and held it in your hand. It burned up in your hand, Dean wide eyed for a moment. “How…”

“Just let me run away. I won’t bother you ever again,” you said as you walked past him. His hand caught your arm and you closed your eyes, Dean gasping behind you. You heard him fall over as you looked back, his hands tied in front of him along with his feet.

“What…” he asked.

“You can’t get out of that, Dean. It’s the same stuff they use in Hell. When I’m away, I’ll remove it,” you said. You started to walk away and you slapped a piece of the material over his mouth when he shouted. “I’m sorry. It’s for-”

You felt yourself get tackled on the ground, your head knocking back against the paved path. 

“Sammy, don’t hurt her,” Dean said and you glanced over, your hold on him gone as he stood up. You tried to push the two of them away but your head hurt too much. You put your hands on it and curled up in a ball. “Call Cas. Tell him we need him home. Now.”

“Morning sunshine,” said Dean as you flickered open your eyes. You looked around, in a dimly lit old room. You touched your head and sat up, Dean setting down his book at the desk. “Cas healed you up. He said your head was looking like a smoothie in there.”

“Felt like it,” you said.

“You should have died like, back at that house on the hunt,” said Dean.

“I know,” you said.

“Apparently you have a ‘dark energy’ about you,” said Dean.

“Yet I’m not in the dungeon...or the bunker,” you said. Dean sighed and looked over your head, your gaze going up to the ceiling. “What is that?”

“Bit of a pain in the ass for me,” said Dean. “We don’t know what you are and that little trick by the river was pretty impressive but that sigil? Anyone with that symbol carved in them ain’t leaving a one mile square area. Two man minimum.”

“You’re holding me here,” you said.

“In this cabin and the surrounding area. I can’t leave either. Not until that gets removed and Cas is the only one that can undo it,” said Dean. 

“I can make you undo it,” you said. You stared him down, Dean frowning when he saw you tie his hands together in front of him. 

“Go ahead and do that. But I literally can’t undo it. We’re both stuck and Sam and Cas aren’t coming back unless it’s an emergency,” said Dean. You got up from the bed and went down a short hall, Dean following you and out through a front door. The air was chilly and you saw the sun was barely up. You walked and walked and walked until suddenly you bounced off of something. You put a hand against it, Dean sighing behind you. “Unless you’re God level powerful, you ain’t getting out.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me. Let me go,” you snapped. Dean held up his hands and you sighed, releasing him before you started to walk around.

“Y/N. Cas carved it into our bones. Rowena put the spell up. We are as stuck here as the day is long,” said Dean. 

“You can’t make me go back inside,” you said as you sat down and leaned back against the invisible wall. 

“I think you’re lying to me again. Something is wrong and you know it. You look sick. You’re weak. You-”

“Go away before I shut your mouth for you,” you said. He nodded and left, going back into the cabin. You sighed and wrapped your arms around your knees. “Castiel if you can hear me, come and take this off of me. Please. I just want to be left alone.”

One Week Later

“What do you want for dinner?” asked Dean as you stared out the window. It’d been raining all day. The cabin was nice and clean, modern and nice. The bathrooms were spa like and you seemed to somehow have internet all the way out in the middle of nowhere.

It would have been a great and peaceful vacation spot if there wasn’t the overwhelming threat in the air that you couldn’t leave.

“Y/N?” asked Dean.

“Whatever you want is fine,” you said quietly, watching the water roll down the panes. Dean walked over and handed you a blanket, running his hand over your head. “You will never get me to talk, Dean.”

“I was angry and I think we both know I had a right to be. But I think we both know I should have given you a chance to explain yourself and I didn’t. We both screwed up. When you’re ready to talk, we will. Until then...we can stay here and learn to be friends again. You’re safe here. You can try to recover from whatever it is that is running you down.”

“You stuck me here so I can’t go on a hunt,” you said. “Didn’t you.”

“That was part of it,” said Dean. 

“I’m not weak.”

“You can kick my ass all on your own. With these abilities you have? Pretty sure you win every time without lifting a finger,” he said. “Maybe you’re strong, way stronger than I’ve ever been. But you are sick. I can see it all over your face. You can recover here until we figure out what to do next.”

“I know what to do next but you won’t let me leave,” you growled. 

“This isn’t up for debate.”

You turned your head, Dean shoving your arm after a few seconds. He pointed at the tie over his mouth and you shrugged.

“You speaking isn’t up for debate,” you said. He rolled his eyes and went back to the kitchen, starting to move some pots around.

An hour later he shoved your arm again.

“What?” you said. Dean pointed at the food on two plates. You stood up and went to the table, sitting down and digging in. Dean took a seat across from you, grunting. You slurped down your pasta and stared at him. He scratched at the tie and you went back to eating, his eyes widening for a moment. “It’s not fun having someone control you, is it? Enjoy your Red Special.”

He narrowed his eyes and stood up, going to the bedroom he’d been using and slamming the door shut. 

After fifteen minutes and a few washed pots later, you went to the room, Dean sitting on the floor, his eyes red and puffy.

“Fuck, Dean,” you said, removing the tie and kneeling down. He wiped his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I-”

“Red Special,” said Dean. “Red Special. That’s the first step in a Red Special and you know that. I told you all about Hell but I never told you the names of certain things so how the fuck do you know the name of it?”

You got up and tried to leave, Dean on his feet and grabbing your wrist quickly.

“Tell me. You owe me for that just now,” he said.

“Because I’ve gone through a Red Special before too,” you whispered. You shut your eyes and felt Dean’s hands on your shoulders, guiding you back into his room. He sat you down on the bed and told you not to move. He left for a few minutes before you opened your eyes, Dean returning with a sandwich and glass of water for himself. He shut the door and sat down at the head of the mattress, eating quietly as you sighed.

“You went to Hell?” he eventually asked.

“No.”

“...You had to. There’s no way you could survive-”

“I don’t want to tell you, Dean. Don’t make me tell you,” you said. He leaned over and took your hand, lacing your fingers together. You swallowed and shut your eyes.

“Were you...were you going to…” he trailed off as you shook your head.

“No. I could never do that to you. I shouldn’t have done what I did. My head just...it gets dark sometimes. It gets dark more often. The longer we stay here, the bigger the odds that I end up hurting you,” you said.

“Do you think it’s these abilities making that happen?” he asked.

“I know it is,” you said, a crack of thunder overhead.

“Then let’s try to take it away. Bare minimum information. Tell me and Sam and Cas the bare minimum you think we need to know and we’ll save the story for someday later,” said Dean. “I promise.”

Your whole body shuddered and he gave you a smile.

“S’okay. It’ll be okay,” said Dean. 

“The torturer’s curse,” you said quietly. Dean tilted his head at you and you gave his hand a squeeze. “It’s called the torturer’s curse. There’s no way to remove it.”

“We’ll find a way. We always do.”

Three Weeks Later

“Hi guys,” you said as Sam, Cas and Rowena walked into the cabin. “I made cookies earlier if you want some.”

“Maybe later. Let’s see if we can get you feeling better first,” said Sam.

“Did you bring the cuffs?” you asked.

“One pair of demonic, witch and curse proof cuffs,” said Cas, pulling them from his pocket. You nodded and tried to relax, shaking your head after a moment. Cas put them on and you saw Dean leave his bedroom, shaking his arms out. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah. I pissed her off this morning so you know, been fun around here today,” said Dean.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“Hey,” he said gently. “We’re gonna get you fixed up and you won’t be feeling any of this bad crap anymore.”

“I hope not,” you said. You took a seat at the table, Rowena and Sam moving around and setting things up. You had to give them some of your blood, the second it was in the bowl your whole body starting to buzz. “Hurry. It doesn’t like that.”

Rowenna threw something in the bowl and a puff of smoke appeared. She said a few words and then looked at you.

“Well?” she asked.

“I don’t feel any…” you said, quickly closing your eyes, everything off. You fell over, passing out for a few seconds.

“Hey, Y/N,” said Dean, shaking your shoulder as you woke up. Your whole body felt lighter. You tried to do something you could before, anything, but none of it seemed to work.

“Hey,” you smiled, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

Cas put a hand on your head and nodded.

“I don’t sense the energy in her anymore,” he said.

“It’s gone?” asked Dean. You nodded and let out a laugh.

“It’s gone. It’s gone,” you said as they helped you sit up.

“How did you get a curse like that in the first place? That’s very, very dark magic,” said Rowenna as Sam took off your cuffs.

“It was a unique situation. It won’t happen again.”

“She won’t talk about what happened,” said Sam that night in the bunker. You were laying in your old bed, the boys talking in hushed whispers outside your room.

“I’m not pushing her. This curse was fucking with her head for a while and she’s had it who knows how long and she needs a little peace and quiet,” said Dean.

“Dean. The curse she had is not normal. It is old. The book we found the cure in...they only use the curse in something called a Hellscape. No one’s ever seen it in action. How the hell did she get it?” 

“I’m guessing she’s been to someplace called Hellscape then, genius. Lay off. She feels like shit. Go find a nice easy hunt for us or something,” said Dean. You heard the door open after a moment and Dean enter, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Need anything sweetheart?”

“Do you ever wish you never existed?” you asked. You felt him move around behind you and lay down, warm arms pulling you into an embrace. “That’s not an answer.”

“Maybe I used to, on bad days sometimes,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here though.”

“I’m not sure what the point is,” you said.

“Of life?” he asked as you nodded. “I think you try to leave this place better than you found it.”

“I don’t think that’s why I’m here,” you said.

“Why do you think you are then?” 

“To be miserable,” you said quietly. “A vast majority of my life has been a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. Then I got out of it when I found you guys and then I fucked that up and I’m back in the nightmare.”

“You’re not,” said Dean, resting his head against your back. “You’re not, I swear.”

“Maybe someday I’ll believe that,” you said as you shut your eyes.

“Y/N. Whatever you’re not telling me...it’s okay. I know it’s big. I’ll be here if you ever decide you want to share it. If not, that’s okay too,” he said.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Hey,” said Sam the next morning at breakfast. “I found a hunt in Norfolk. It looks like a simple demon hunt if you guys want in.”

“Yeah that sounds good,” said Dean as you nodded. You went back to your eggs, closing your eyes. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Never better.”

“I think it’s that gym teacher. I had a bad feeling about him,” said Sam in the motel later that day. “No demon though.”

“Him and that assistant coach are weirdos,” said Dean. “You see the way they were looking at Y/N?”

“They’re not the person you’re looking for,” you said as you changed out of your fed suit, Sam quickly turning away. 

“How do you know that?” asked Dean. You sighed and slipped on some jeans and t shirt, plopping down on the bed. “Y/N.”

“Because this is my hometown,” you said. They looked at one another and scrunched up their faces. “I’m not from where I said I was. I lied about a lot. I get it. I went to high school with those guys, that’s why they were looking at me like that.”

“Well it has to be a teacher,” said Sam.

“No it doesn’t. It isn’t. I know exactly who it is,” you said, going to your bag and shoving your gun in your jeans.

“Care to share with the class?” asked Dean. 

“It’s my dad.”

“Your what?” he asked. “Your dad is dead.”

“A lie. My mom is but not him.”

“So a demon didn’t kill your parents?” asked Sam. “Or just your mom?”

“I killed my mom,” you said. Both of them shared a look, Dean looking you up and down. “I had my reasons.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, shaking his head. “Ignoring that bombshell, how do you know it’s your dad?”

“He’s the most evil thing in this town,” you said. 

“They didn’t...you know,” said Sam.

“Hurt me? Oh, I wish all they’d done to me was hurt me,” you said. Sam swallowed and you saw Dean nod. 

“Sammy. Go grab some dinner for us. Please,” said Dean. Sam excused himself but you knew Dean only did it for your benefit. “I’m starting to get the picture.”

“What picture is that.”

“Abusive parents with a kid that ends up having a horrible dark curse on them? I have a feeling you didn’t get that from your hunting days,” he said.

“I’ve had it since I was sixteen. I didn’t turn it on until I used an ability for the first time at eighteen when I got out of here for good. Every time I use them, the darker it got,” you said.

“Your dad do that to you?” he asked. “Curse you?”

“Indirectly. You know who gave me the actual curse,” you said. Dean tilted his head. “Alistair.”

You saw his face go white and you nodded.

“Alistair...you knew…” said Dean.

“I knew him before you did. My parents used to call him Ali when I was little,” you said.

“What?” breathed out Dean. “Don’t tell me...tell me he didn’t go near you as a child. Tell me that psychopath wasn’t near you as a kid.”

“I could but it’d be a lie,” you said. He sat down on the bed and ran his hand over his mouth. “It’s my dad that killed those two girls. I know it. Let’s just go deal with him and move on.”

“We are not ending the conversation there. Alistair? That’s-“

“Minimum information,” you said. “I already told you more than enough.”

“Y/N-“

“You of all people can understand why I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I talked about it,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to and I did and you know what? After I did, I felt a little better. I trusted you enough to tell you.”

“Dean,” you said, pacing around the room. “It’s not a trust thing. I’ve never told anyone and if you ever find out the whole truth, not the scraps you know, you’ll never look at me the same. I know I’m broken but you didn’t make me feel like it. You guys never did and I know you’ll see what I really am if you ever hear the truth. I’m sorry but I can’t go through that.”

“So you think I was broken?” asked Dean. You rolled your eyes and he stood up. “Did you lie about that too?”

“Go fuck yourself, Dean,” you said, grabbing your backpack. “I never lied about anything like that. You know what? Thanks for everything but I’m gone.”

You stormed out of there, Dean barely getting to the door by the time you were down the block.

Four Hours Later

“Ouch,” you said as you groaned awake. You were cold and your body instantly recognized the chill. You sat upright, the air leaving your lungs. 

It took a moment to realize you were panicking, breaths coming in little sharp jagged beats. 

“Y/N,” you heard from the dark side of the basement. The voice sang song and you backed up against the cinderblock wall. You could feel the shirt you had on now and the light cotton shorts, feel the band on your ankle as you watched him step into the light. “Y/N. Relax, honey. Don’t work yourself up.”

“I…” you said, remembering sneaking into the house and then it all going dark.

“You promised that someday you’d come back and kill me. I took precautions and now...we can go back to the way things were,” he said as he knelt down.

“Dad, don’t,” you said, burrowing back into the corner.

“Hunters aren’t as invincible as they say. I’ll make you a deal. You be a good girl and let Dad have a bit of blood to sell off every so often since you have that been to hell thing going for you, and I will leave the townsfolk alone. Hm? How’s that sound?” he asked. “Or better yet, you be good and I won’t have to do that thing you don’t like.”

“Alistair is dead,” you said as you finally found your voice.

“I know. But I can fool your mind into believing it’s with him, feeling all of that. I’ve learned a few things since you’ve been gone,” he said. “So. Good girl?”

Your body shook and he smirked.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get back to the way things were soon enough.”

He stood up and pet your head, walking away before he hit the light outside the door and locked it.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to use your abilities but they were gone.

The Winchesters were your only hope.

It felt like a day had gone by before the door opened. Your father had already paid you one unpleasant visit and you weren’t ready for another.

“Oh shit,” said Dean as the room filled with light. You covered your eyes before you dared expose them to the brightness, Dean rushing over and cupping your cheeks. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Me too,” he said. “I forgive you, for all of it. I promise. Let’s get you someplace safe.”

“You can’t cut it,” you said. “You need to break the seal.”

“Do you know how to do that?” he asked.

“You got a knife?” you asked. Dean pulled out a knife and handed it to you. You took a deep breath and held the tip to your foot. You dug into the flesh and sighed. You took the blade and cut into the band, the thing snapping open after a moment.

“What is that?” he asked.

“You can’t run that way,” you said. You stood up and Dean went with you. He helped you walk, pausing when you stopped halfway. 

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you shakily said, stepping over the midpoint of the room, gritting your teeth as you got to the door. Dean picked you up and carried you past the storage area and up the basement stairs, walking you quietly out to the front step outside.

“Where’s my dad?” you asked. 

“Sammy got him,” said Dean. “He’s in the office. I went looking for you.”

“Go check on Sam for me. I don’t trust my dad,” you said.

“If I see him, he’s getting a bullet,” said Dean. You nodded and Dean shrugged off his jacket, putting it over your shoulders before he headed inside. It was warm and smelled like him and you let yourself curl up in the warm safe feeling for a few minutes before you realized Dean hadn’t come back. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stood and looked back at the house. You reached into the pocket of the jacket and pulled out Dean’s spare gun. It wasn’t his normal spare. You looked at it and recognized it as the the other one in the set he’d gotten for you years ago. 

You took that as a sign and slowly limped into the house, gun raised as you headed towards the back.

You turned inside and saw your Dad standing by the fireplace, Dean and Sam both knocked out on the floor.

“Winchesters will sell nicely,” he said. “Pieces of course. You will be punished appropriately.”

“No,” you said quietly, pointing the gun. He glanced at you and the weapon flew out of your hands. You were forced down to the floor and you gasped, staring up at him.

“You lose. You always lose,” he said. He grabbed your arm and started to pull you back towards the hall and presumably down to the basement. You caught Dean lazily staring at you. He poked his left side wearily and you reached into his inner left jacket pocket. 

The sound of a switchblade opening was deafening in the room, your father looking down just as you stabbed it into his thigh. You pulled it out and then scrambled backwards, your Dad stalking over you.

A gunshot rang out and he dropped to the ground. You rolled away, looking back to see Dean pointing his gun. 

“You okay?” he asked.

You got to your feet and walked out of the room, sitting down on the front step. You tucked your head between your knees, a gentle hand on your back a few minutes later.

“You’re alright, sweetheart. You’re alright.”

“Hey,” said Dean the next morning as you finished off your hash brown by the water. “Neat little diner they got around here.”

“S’good pancakes,” you said, popping the last piece in your mouth.

“You uh, didn’t say much last night. Or this morning.”

“Didn’t feel like talking,” you said, swinging your feet from where you sat on the railing. 

“You okay?”

“I feel better but I can’t believe it’s actually over,” you said. “I was always too scared to ever come back here.”

“I get it,” said Dean, leaning back against the railing, staring at the diner. “Talking...helps. Even if you were a pain in the ass about it back then.”

“You know when we met, I was so jealous of you. I really hated you,” you said.

“You did? Must have been my charming personality that won you over,” he chuckled.

“You were so happy and you and Sam...you have someone to love you, always. I know you weren’t happy like most people are but you got to have a little bit, a few moments at least. You guys always had each other and I wanted that so bad. I wish I’d had an older brother like you or a little one or something when I was a kid. You have no idea how screwed up I am, Dean,” you said.

“That’s funny,” he said, turning his head towards your own. “You’re one of the most normal people I know.”

“Dean.”

“I don’t know how or why but you are a good person, Y/N. Your parents from the little I do know were horrible. But you’re good and kind. You’re the opposite of screwed up.”

“I don’t feel like it,” you said.

“You will. Eventually,” he said, smiling softly. “Trust me. I learned from this really hot chick all the best ways to help.”

You glanced down and he moved behind you, wrapping his arms around you, kissing your cheek.

“I should have told you the truth back then,” you said.

“I should have been less of a dick. It’s okay. Nobody’s perfect,” he said.

“My parents made a demon deal,” you said, Dean shifting around to sit beside you. “You saw that house. My parents were nobody’s when they were younger. They wanted money and power and they met with a crossroads demon. They presented a unique deal. My soul for the deal,” you said. “I was almost two at the time I think.”

“That’s not possible,” said Dean.

“I know. The demon started to walk away when my parents got creative. Ten years from then, I’d go away for five years, with a demon. They could do whatever they wanted to me. The demon wasn’t interested at first but Alistair popped up all excited and said he wanted to test out some new stuff or something and then agreed. I spent my childhood knowing it was coming. Then I went away and lived in the Hellscape for five years. It’s like bringing hell to earth. It was basically this hidden away cabin in the woods. Apparently it can only be done every so often and needs a whole bunch of stuff and I was the lucky participant,” you said.

“Five years in hell or five years up here?” asked Dean.

“Up here.”

“Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes. “How many years…”

“If a month is ten years…” you said. “It wasn’t great. I blocked out a lot. I can’t even remember most of it. It was weird. I remember the pain but the duration is like a really crappy month or something. But yeah, I hung out in basically hell for five years before the deal was up. Alistair though, he liked me. He said I took a long time to break. He-”

“How long.”

“Hundred years,” you said, Dean nodding. “Dean...it wasn’t like what you went through. That was hell. This was his playground. Some days I was left alone.”

“Can I hear more?” he asked.

“So when my time was up, Alistair gave me the curse. He told me all about it, told me it would strip away the human emotions so I wouldn’t feel so bad. He encouraged me to rip my parents to shreds,” you said. “I wanted to too but when I got back home, I turned into the scared little girl again. I pretended to be a normal teenager at school and then home was...bad. But I met this boy. This guy was following me after one of the football games when I was walking home and this boy chased him off. Ricky. He was the gearhead kid and I was a stupid cheerleader and he was kind. He reminds me of you actually. We dated, secretly, and I started to open up and Ricky was so smart and it turned out he was a hunter’s kid.”

“Ricky Norris?” asked Dean.

“How do you…” you trailed off, Dean smiling sadly.

“Ricky was my friend when I was a little kid. It was rare to meet other hunter’s with kids. I didn’t see him much but I knew Ricky. I never heard from him after we were like twelve,” said Dean.

“His dad had stopped hunting. He and Ricky tried to help me. They helped me learn that my parents threats about going back to Alistair were lies, that it was a one time only thing. He taught me how to fight and what a safe home was and I was going to runaway, Ricky and I were during senior year. But he never showed up and I found out he’d been killed by my parents. So I went home and I didn’t think twice about killing my mom. She and my dad hurt the one person who ever loved me so I killed her and I told him next time I saw him I’d get rid of him too. Then I ran and I hunted and I got so low and down and I wanted that feeling of being loved so bad and then bam, you and Sam walk into my life and you suffocated me with it and I love you two more than you’ll ever know.”

“We know. It’s this thing called unconditional love. We know, Y/N and you got it too,” said Dean.

“You know Ricky had to explain that to me? I understood it. I saw it with my friends and their families but feeling it wasn’t something I ever got until I met you. Ricky tried, he did, but I was too scared to feel it the way you’re supposed to,” you said. “And he and his dad wound up dead because of me.”

“Hunters help people, sweetheart. If I know Ricky, me and him would have been fighting over the chance to help you out. Nothing that ever happened was you fault. You were a child. Barely a toddler. You did nothing wrong. Life handed you all the crap at once it seems,” he said.

“I couldn’t even sleep in my room upstairs. It was the pretend room. I was always in that basement,” you said, Dean putting an arm over your shoulders. “There’s so much they did.”

“All those people and things that hurt you are dead and I’m not gonna let anything else hurt you again. Neither is Sammy,” he said.

“I know,” you said, looking at your hands. “We lost a year because I wouldn’t tell you all of this.“

“What’s a year? We got this place, we got forever upstairs. Don’t sweat it. It’s okay,” said Dean. He took one of your hands and held it in his lap. “I love you.”

“I’m sorry I-“

“Stop apologizing. Please,” said Dean. “We’re good. It’s all good.”

You nodded and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“How about we take a little break from hunting, get everyone feeling better,” he said.

“I’d like that,” you said quietly.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

“Guys,” you sighed from the backseat a week later. “Why are we driving to some middle of nowhere town?”

“First off, we live in a middle of nowhere town too. Second, it’s a forty minute drive which is nothing. Third, it’s a surprise,” said Dean.

“I wanted to lay in bed and eat junk food,” you whined.

“We have a feeling you’re gonna like this,” said Sam. You sighed and a few minutes later they pulled up outside of a house. You followed them out of the car, Dean pursing his lips as he walked around Baby.

“So we may have been working a case this week without you knowing,” said Dean. “Yours.”

“Mine?” you asked.

“Your Dad said some stuff after you left that office last week. Tried to bargain us into helping him, before we finished him off,” said Sam.

“He said something that me and Sam looked into. It turns out, he was telling the truth,” said Dean.

“What?” you asked quietly.

“See that house?” asked Dean, pointing behind you. 

“Yeah?”

“That’s your house,” said Sam with a big smile.

“I’m not following,” you said.

“That is your house. That is where your parents and brothers live,” said Dean, a smile spreading across his cheeks.

“I don’t…” you said.

“The people you thought were your parents? They stole you at a park to use you for their demon deal. Your real parents are inside,” said Dean. 

“Real…” you said, both of them nodding.

“They’ve looked for decades. They ain’t half bad either. Your Dad had a blurry picture of you from your first Wendigo hunt. A little more resources and they might have eventually found you on your own,” said Sam.

“Did you talk to them?” you asked, staring at the house.

“A little. They didn’t believe us at first. I sent them a picture of you and that sealed the deal. They’re good people, Y/N. Whatever you want to do next is up to you, that’s their words,” said Dean.

You turned and headed for the front door, the boys hanging back by the car.

You swallowed as you rang the doorbell, your heart jumping into your throat when you heard someone on the other side.

An older man opened it, a cautious look on his face that turned into a long stare.

“Hi,” you said. He quickly stepped outside and hugged you, picking you up. “You’re my dad?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m your dad,” he laughed. “I’m your dad, kiddo.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, sitting on the back porch a few hours later. “Your mom makes like one of my top ten pies. Ever.”

“I’ll have to send you kids home with one,” she said as she sat back down next to you in the swing seat, your Dad on the other side.

“So what about school? You wanted to be a doctor when you were little,” he said.

“No she didn't. You were obsessed with trying to be a princess,” said your mom. Dean nearly choked on his pie as he started to laugh. 

“Watch it Winchester,” you teased. “I uh, I left school and got my GED.”

“Y/N had a rough go of it,” said Dean.

“The people that took you...did they treat you okay?” asked your mom.

You glanced at Dean and took a deep breath.

“I found some people along the way that became my real family,” you said.

“Y/N. You don’t have to tell us. We’re just glad to have you back,” said your dad.

“I’m okay,” you said, smiling at Dean. “I can’t believe you had four boys.”

“Well the twins were a surprise,” said your dad. “Never had a girl though aside from you.”

“I don’t mind,” you said, Dean polishing off another piece and looking at your mom.

“Does he want more?” she whispered.

“It’s Dean. He always wants more pie, mom.”

“Hey,” said Dean that night as you wandered into the guest room at your parents house. “Was today good?”

“Very,” you said. “I’m not giving up hunting but knowing I have this is incredible.”

“You’ve had a rough go of it. Sam and I wanted to give you your family back,” said Dean as he sat down on the bed and got down to his boxers.

“Dean,” you said, crawling behind him and giving him a hug. “You gave me a family a long time ago. It just got bigger today is all.”

“We love you. We wanted you to know you have more than us though,” he said.

“The Winchester’s have always been enough. I’m so incredibly lucky I have you,” you said, kissing his cheek. “You gave me so much, Dean. I’m so happy to have met my parents and brothers but I’m a Winchester. I’m always going to be that.”

“You have choices now,” he said.

“Yeah. I know what I pick. Same thing as always,” you said. He smiled and cupped your cheek, pulling you into a kiss. “Thank you for today and how sweet you’ve been all week. I’ve been pretty awful to you lately and I never took care of you at all.”

“You were cursed and scared. I thought I told you to stop apologizing,” said Dean, brushing his thumb over your face. “I am okay. You can take care of me too but it’s give and take and I’m good with giving right now. You still need to heal. It’s only been a week. So let’s take a few days and get to know your family. Okay?”

“Okay,” you said, Dean swinging his legs up onto the bed and giving you another kiss. “I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too, Y/N. So, so much.”

_______

[jawabear]

I have no idea if requests are open, so feel free to ignore!

Javier x reader, enemies to lovers with an injured and quietly scared reader?

Not impossible (Javier Peña x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: Hey! I’m sorry this took so long anon! I’ve had a lot of stuff to do outside of writing with sucks but I’m slowly working my way through my other requests so hopefully it won’t be too long before they’re up as well! Thank you for being patient with me. Also, I’m not very good at writing the whole enemies to lovers trope so this is about as good at that gets... but I hope it’s good enough for you. Enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Fem!reader, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, Javi is a struggling man, hospitals, Steve being a smart ass, my terrible writing

Summary: In his job, Javier gets proven wrong about a lot of things he though impossible, and he’s about to get proven wrong again

“You’re a real fucking piece of work, you know that?”

“Oh, and you’re not?” She retorted as she pushed him out the way. “Why do you have to be such a dick all the time, Peña?” She muttered under her breath as she began pressing the buttons on the copier.

“I could as you the same thing” he said, folding his arms over his chest as he watch her take her sweet time, intending to piss him off. And it was working. “Could you be any slower? Other people have work to do as well you know?”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sure the girls will be happy to wait for you a little while longer” she taunted giving him a sweet smile. This only angered him further, more many reasons. But the main one being he hated that that was how she thought of him. But he had only himself to blame for his reputation.

The copier beeped a few times and she pulled out the few sheets of paper there was. “There, happy now?” She said before walking past him, purposely bumping her shoulder against his.

“Very” he muttered as he went about doing his own work, but his eyes wandered over to her, watching as she walked away. Watching the way her hips swayed slightly with every step. How her hair bounce to. And how she always walked with such purpose.

He knew he was in deep for her, but it was clear she didn’t feel the same.

He didn’t exactly know why they had the relationship they did, but ever since she started working for the DEA, they had just clashed. They had never seen eyes to eye and disagreed on just about everything. The only thing the did agree on being that they didn’t get on. And every agent new it. They didn’t exactly try to hide their distaste for each other. They made it very obvious.

This lead to obvious speculation about the true nature of their relationship. It came down to the classic “they’re only mean because they like you” sort of idea. Every other agent was convinced that they were actually together. And with relationships between agents being pretty much forbidden, they all seemed to come to the same conclusion that they were in face horrible to each other as an excuse to spend more time with each other and not let on that they were in face dating.

But this wasn’t the case. Unfortunately. They’re weren’t dating. Much to Javier’s dismay.

“You still with us?” Came a voice from beside him pulling him from his thoughts.

Javi looked and saw Steve standing beside him “yeah..” Javi said, clearing his throat and collecting his copies.

“What took you so far away?” Steve teased as he followed after his partner back to their desks. Javi just huffed in response, he never gave Steve a straight answer to questions lien that. He knew that what ever he answered he would just pester him about the same thing over and over again “it was (Y/N) again, wasn’t it”

For fuck sake.

“No Steve” Javi lied “it was about going home to get away from this shit”

“Well, to add more shit to the pile, Messina wants to see you”

“When?”

“Now”

“What the fuck for?” Javi sighed rubbing his forehead.

“Didn’t say. But it doesn’t look like you’re going to be alone for whatever it is” Steve nodded his head over to Messina’s office. Javier turned around and saw (Y/N) walking in. Javi only sighed again and pushed himself away from his desk and took his time walking up to Messina’s office.

-

“Me and...(Y/N)? Ma’am, all due respect-“

“Messina” she corrected for what seemed like the hundredth time “or boss. And are you questioning my decision?”

“W-Yeah actually I am. I don’t think sending me and (Y/N) out into live fire is a good idea”

“You two are DEA agents. Not children. You are both going on this mission whether you like it or not, and I expect the two of you to behave appropriately and professionally” Messina looked between the two of the, (Y/N) being all too quiet beside Javi. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, boss” (Y/N) nodded, those were the first words she had spoke in a while. She shot her eye over to Javi who had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, fine...” he mumbled.

“Good, I expect you on site with in the hour. And be careful both of you. Look out for each other” Messina told them as she handed (Y/N) a file with the location and target.

(Y/N) nodded her head, taking the file and leaving, Javi following close behind trying to get a look at the file. She held the file up to him and he took it from her. “You only had to ask” she muttered. They both found themselves standing in her office, she walked around to her desk and pulled her gun out of her drawer while Javi stood in the doorway looking through the file.

“You can’t kill” he told her quietly, his eyes not leaving the page with the target on. This was a murder mission. And he knew she couldn’t kill anyone, even if it was for the sake of the job.

“But you can...” she said.

“You make it sound as if I enjoy it” he scoffed “as if it’s easy...”

“I know it’s not easy Javier. If it was, everyone would do it. But it takes a whole lot of bravery and courage to pull the trigger and end someone’s life, regardless of who they are. You are braver and more courageous than I could ever be”

He let out a light laugh and lifted his head to look at her “(Y/N), that almost sounded like a compliment”

A hint of a smile ghosted over her perfect lips as she averted her gaze from his back down to her gun “yeah well...don’t let it get to your head. I need it clear if we’re both going to make it out alive”

“Eso es frío” (that’s cold) he chuckled with the shake of his head.

“You know I can speak Spanish right?” She told him.

“Since when?” He asked a little shocked, but now questioning himself as to whether he’s ever let slip his feelings for her in his native tongue or not. She hadn’t ever said anything.

“Since always. So, whilst you can probably talk about Steve behind his back, you’re going to have to try harder do to it with me” she said before walking past him.

“Eres algo más” (you are something else) Javier muttered.

“Lo sé, pero tú también” (I know, But so are you) she called back to him.

Well, if he wasn’t already head over heels for her, her definitely was now.

-

She examined the room, her gun held steadily in front of her as she looked, but it was empty. There was no one there. She lowered her gun and reached for her radio, holding down the button “there’s no one here Javi” she said.

“There has to be” Javi’s voice came through, it wasn’t the clearest audio but she knew what he was saying. “Where are you?”

“Upstairs in the-“ she didn’t get a chance to finish before she heard a creek in the floor boards beside her. She looked and saw their target emerging from a cut in the walls, gun raised and pointing straight towards her.

(Y/N) reached for her gun but it was all too late for that. She somehow managed to manoeuvre herself so that the bullet didn’t go through her head, but she wasn’t quick enough to dodge it completely.

Her leg seemed to just...stop. She fell to the floor crying out in pain as like a wounded animal. The bullet was hot as it imbedded itself into her thigh. The gun had dropped from her hands and fallen to the floor. Her hands were of better use holding her thigh she thought.

The guy was shot dead and Javi quickly appeared in the room, but she could barely make him out through her tears. In all her time as a field agent, she never thought she’d ever get shot. She was too focused, but it seemed this time, her feelings for Javier got in the way.

“Fucking hell (Y/N)!” Javier yelled as he raced to her side, his gun too being forgotten on the floor next to hers.

“Javi...I-It hurts” she sobbed.

“I know baby” he whispered. She didn’t really take much notice of the name, nor did he. There were more pressing matters at hand that his slip of the tongue. He reached around her to the back pocket of her vest, knowing she would have a bandage of some kind in there. He smiled a little to himself as he pulled it out. “Hold still for me (Y/N)” he said gently as he moved her hands from her leg.

“D-Don’t touch it” she sniffed.

“I’m not gonna touch it. But I need to wrap it so you don’t bleed out” Javi carefully began wrapping the bandage around her wound tightly. She let out quiet whimpers of pain for which he apologised.

“Can you stand?” He asked when he had finished wrapping her wound.

“I-I think so..” he took her hands and helped her get to her feet but her leg gave out again sending her into his chest. His arms instantly wrapped around her to make sure she didn’t fall back to the floor.

“I’m sorry..” she whispered as she tried to stand again.

“It’s fine” he whispered before lifting her into his arms bridal style. She didn’t really have the strength to protest, and she didn’t want to either. It felt nice to be held in his strong arms.

Javi took it upon himself to bring her to his car and drive her as quickly as he could to the hospital. She struggled to keep her eyes open but he kept talking to her and holding her hand as often as possible to keep her mind active to insure she didn’t pass out on him. “Stay awake for me (Y/N). You’re going to be okay”

-

Javier sat outside her hospital room, his head in his hands and his leg bouncing nervously. He hadn’t moved from that chair since he first sat down in it about three hours ago. He was too scared to leave. Scared the nurse would come out and he wouldn’t be there. Or (as unlikely as this was) (Y/N) would ask for him and he wouldn’t be able to see her.

He was far too stressed out to do anything. And he was too scared to move.

“Javi!” Steve called to him as he jogged down the hallway towards him. Javi looked up at his partner but didn’t have the energy to actually respond with words. “How is she?” Steve asked when he stopped in front of his friend.

“Alive...at least” Javier muttered “they’re uh..running some tests. Want to make sure she doesn’t have an infection or anything. My attempt at patching her up was shit and wasn’t enough to stop the bleeding...”

“Fuck man” Steve said as he sat beside Javi “I’m sorry this shit happened. Did you get the bastard who did it?”

Javi just nodded and lowered his head rubbing his hands together. “Hey, just think, it could’ve been a whole lot worse” Steve tried to offer him some comfort but he didn’t really know what to say.

“It could’ve been a whole lot better” Javi retorted.

Steve didn’t get a chance to say anything else before the door to (Y/N)’s hospital room was opened and a nurse emerged. Javi and Steve immediately stood catching her attention.

She gave a gentle smile to them “Ella está bien para tener visitas. Pero ella puede desvanecerse dentro y fuera de la consciouncia” (she’s okay to have visitors. But she may fade in and out of consciousness) she told them quietly. Steve didn’t get a lot of what she was saying, something about ‘she’s okay’ and ‘conscious’.

“Gracias” Javi nodded to her. She smiled again before leaving them.

“I didn’t get a lot of that” Steve admitted.

“She’s okay. But she’ll probably fall in and out of sleep if we go in there” Javi translated for him. “Do you want to go in first?” He asked pointing his thumb at the door.

“No, you go in first. She’ll be happier to see you than she will me” Steve said patting Javi on the shoulder.

“She hates me...” Javi mumbled.

“Yeah, sure she does” Steve nodded a long, a knowing look on his face “I’ll go tell the boss. Take your time in there” Javi couldn’t reply before Steve was walking away leaving him alone.

He looked towards the door and hesitantly reached out for the handle before pushing it down and opening the door.

She was awake when he walked in. Staring out of the window on the opposite side of the room. Her fingers scraping anxiously against the blanket that was draped over her. He drew in a sharp breath before walking into the room, closing the door behind him. He didn’t say anything to her at first he knew she was aware of his presence.

Javi sat in the chair beside her bed. She was facing away from him and he didn’t know what to say to her. Anything he did say probably wouldn’t mean much to her. Anything he wanted to say wouldn’t mean anything either.

So for a while they sat in silence. The only other sounds were the quiet shuffling and muffled noises from outside the room and the annoying but somewhat comforting beeping of the heart monitor she was attached to.

Javier’s eyes trailed up and down her body. Her leg was slight elevated and wrapped up in a few layers of bandage. A wire attached to her arm. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like any of what he was seeing. But he was glad she was alive. But he knew she wasn’t okay.

“What’s wrong with me Javier?” She asked quietly. Her voice and question startling him slightly.

“You were shot (Y/N). They’re just running some tests to see if you have an infection-“ He answered but she cut him off before he could completely finish.

“That’s not what I mean” she said turning her head, their eyes meeting and he hated the sadness and pain he saw within them. “What’s wrong with me?” She asked again.

Javi didn’t answer for a moment. He was trying to pull his thoughts together, he wanted to give her the honest answer but he didn’t think now was the time for him to confess his love for her.

“You’re human (Y/N)” he told her quietly. Javi hesitantly reached out and took her small cold hand in his larger, warmer ones “No one can expect you to force yourself to do things as drastic as taking a life”

“That’s my job Javi” she laughed weakly “What kind of DEA agent am I if I can’t even do my job?”

“You’re one of the best agents we have. These things happen (Y/N), don’t beat yourself up over it” he told her.

“They don’t happen to you...” she said. “These things don’t happen to you Javi”

“No” he agreed “far worse things happen to me. I have a far worse pain to deal with”

“What’s that?”

“I have to watch the ones I care about get hurt or killed. And all I can do is stand idly by and watch...wishing it was me instead...”

Her bottom lip began to tremble as she watch a look of sadness wash over his face. She tried to squeeze his hand in reassurance but she was too tired and too weak. But he must’ve felt something because he looked to their joined hands a smiled a little. “Javi...” she sighed quietly. “I don’t want it to be you...” she told him.

He removed one hand from hers and brought it up to rest on her cheek, gently rubbing his thumb over her soft skin. She leaned into his touch and managed to squeeze his hand gently. Maybe it was just the drowsiness getting to her which was making her more affectionate towards him. But he wanted to believe it was because she liked him back, but he knew it was impossible.

The hand on her cheek brought her unbelievable warmth and comfort and it was making her sleepy. She struggled to keep her eyes open, her head falling deeper and deeper into the pillow.

“Maybe you should get some sleep” he said quietly.

“Will you stay?” Her voice was small and quiet but she couldn’t open her eyes when she asked her questions, slowly she found herself falling asleep, still holding his hands.

“If you want me to” he smiled.

She hummed “want you..to...” her voice seemed to trail off as her head rolled to the side a little more than it already was.

Javier waited a moment before he voice her name, testing to see if she was in face asleep. When she didn’t respond he came to the conclusion she was in fact asleep. He let her be, knowing she needed rest after the traumatic events of the day. But he wasn’t going to leave her.

Whilst in there, the nurses flittered in and out making sure she and he were okay. And even as the sun began to set, she show no intention of waking up. But the constant beep of the heart monitor was comfort enough for him to know she was still alive.

He rested his elbow on the bed and raised her weak hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles before resting his forehead against it. “You know, I have half a mind to tell Crosby and Messina to ban your from field duty after this. To save me from having to go through this again” his voice was quiet as he spoke, he was scared of waking her but also he didn’t want her to hear what he had to say. “Fuck (Y/N). You got lucky. That could’ve been a whole lot worse. You could’ve-“

He stopped himself quickly, feeling a lump beginning to form in his throat and his eyes burning with tears “but you’re okay. That’s what I have to remember. And...and when you wake up...I’ll tell you. Tell you how I feel. Tell you I love you. And that I’m sorry I’m such an asshole to you. It’s a shitty excuse but...I’ve never felt like this about someone before and...it’s fucking scary. I guess I...I just don’t know how to...deal with it...”

She drew in a deep breath and shifted slightly making him look over to her face to see if she had woken up, but it seemed she was still completely out of it. Javi pressed another kiss to her hand, longer this time before bringing it back down to the bed. “I’ll let you rest (Y/N)” he whispered before leaning back in his chair. His eyes and hand never leaving her before he found himself drifting off to sleep as well.

When he woke up again, it was due to the light filtering through the window on the far side of the room, and also the sound of the nurse flittering about the room and checking on (Y/N) who was still asleep. Javier groaned as he attempted to stretch his arms above his head but he was hindered slightly when he noticed that their hands were still joined at her side.

“Buenos dias, Agente Peña” the nurse smiled gently over to him. Javi was a little concerned at the fact he had fallen asleep, he didn’t know what time it was. Was he late for work? And why did he suddenly care if he was?

“¿que hora es?” (What time is it?) he asked.

The nurse looked at the watch on her wrist “9:32” she told him.

He was late. Very late.

“Fuck” he swore under his breath.

“You might like to know that a man who you were with before came by to tell you not to come in to work today” she said, her English wasn’t the best but he understood what she was saying.

(Y/N) groaned from the bed catching both of their attention. Javier leaned forwards slightly and tightened his grip on her hand. “(Y/N)?” He said quietly.

“Javi...” she managed a soft smile as she slowly opened her eyes to look at him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked her.

“Happy..” she said.

“You’re the only person in the world then that has felt happy after being shot” he laughed quietly.

“No...happy because you’re here” she told him.

Her words caught him a little off guard and he looked up to the nurse but she had at some point slipped out of the room. “I think you’re still a little hazy from whatever it was they put in you”

“No Javi. I know what I’m saying. I owe you my life. You saved me”

“I’d hardly call it that...” he muttered as he looked away. She squeezed his hand tightly, proof that she was coming back to herself. “I was doing what you would do”

“I’m not just talking about yesterday” she said “I’m talking about every day before that...I know that...we have a strange relationship...but...just having you in my life...it gives me a reason to go on”

“What are you talking about (Y/N)?”

“I’m...I like you Javi. A lot. And I didn’t ever saying anything because...well you never exactly made it easy” she laughed “but I...you probably don’t do relationships but...” she didn’t finish her words. She turned her head to look away from him and pulled her hand from his. She felt like an idiot in confessing to him. She knew it was impossible that he would like her back. He hated her.

But he didn’t.

“(Y/N)” he whispered as he reached over to press his hand against her cheek to turn her head to face him again.

“I’m sorry” she apologised.

“For what?”

“I feel like I’ve now...made things even worse between us...”

“Hey, I may be an asshole but I am capable of feelings. And I like you too”

“Y-You do?” She spoke in barely a whisper, she was a little too shocked by his words. He nodded to her. Her face broke out into a bright smile and reached over to take his face in her hands pulling him closer and pressing her lips to his. She wasn’t quite in control of her actions but that didn’t stop her from continuing. And he didn’t hesitate in kissing her back.

“And it’s about time too” came a voice from the doorway making them both jump away from each other. They looked over to the door to see Steve standing there looking all to proud of himself. “About time you two got together. It’s a real pain in my ass trying to be the middle ground between you. And it will also settle the chatter around the office”

“Do you know how to knock?” Javi asked.

“Yeah” Steve nodded.

“Then go out and try it” Javier pointed to the door and Steve laughed and left the room, closing the door behind him, but there was no knock that followed.

“It seems like we’ve apparently made a lot of people happy” he chuckled. She nodded and gave him a gentle smile.

“Are you happy?” She asked him quietly.

“Beyond happy”

18/01/21

Taglist: @linkpk88 @phoenixhalliwell @lunaserenade @harrys-stan (let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list)

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 31

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: At Waystation, pt 4/?

A/N: Soo sorry about the long wait! This was a very long and kind of tricky chapter to write so it took me longer than I would have wanted. But in a way this is (ironically) a good day to post this chapter as it's the Mother's day in many parts of the world today. (Happy Mother’s day Esperanza Valdez ;___;)

Before we head into this chapter, I want to give you guys a warning that it (specifically, the flashback in the beginning of the chapter) talks about what happened to Leo's mother, so in case you find that too hard to read, feel free to skip it. (If you have read HoO, I think you can somewhat guess what to expect)

Thanks for all the amazing support you guys have given me so far! ♥ It's what keeps me going! Now, enjoy, and remember that I'd really like to hear what you think because there's a lot going on in this chapter!

Words: 5550 (yeah, long one)

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: minor character death (talked about), be aware!

previous chapter / AO3

*flashback*

There was fire. So much fire.

Leo had been tinkering with his toy tools and drawing some simple blueprints in the living room when he had remembered that he had left his hammer into his room. He went to look for it and it took him a couple of minutes to locate it from under the unfinished toys and papers he had thrown around. Unfortunately, that couple of minutes had been enough for all hell to break loose in the living room.

He started smelling smoke and ran back downstairs to see where it came from. The wooden floor and several pieces of furniture in the living room were on fire, which seemed to have started from the papers he had left near the fireplace. Leo’s mind went completely blank like a machine that had just been shut down. The only thing that he was capable of thinking was: what do I do?

His mother had put a fire in the fireplace before she had left to run some errands because it had been a cold day. She had warned Leo several times to be careful with it, even putting a bucket of water and a smothering blanket nearby in case of emergency. But it was already too late to use them; the fire had already spread too far in the room. Because of his state of panic, it took Leo a while to manage to make decisions, but finally, his brain told him: get your phone so you can call mom, and run.

What his 8-year-old brain didn’t understand: he should have just left the building right then and asked a neighbor or someone to call the fire department instead. But Leo could only think how the very thing his mother had been worried about just happened and how she’d probably never forgive him for – no matter how accidentally – burning their home. He had vague memories of leaving his cell phone that he had gotten a few months earlier on his birthday into his room, so he ran upstairs as quickly as he could with his short, wobbly legs. However, the phone wasn’t on his desk like he had anticipated, and it took him a while to remember he had thrown it under the bed after getting frustrated with his homework; the words on the textbook they were supposed to read had not made any sense to him.

Once he finally found the cell phone and went back downstairs to leave the building, the fire had already spread so much that he could barely see anything from the smoke. Coughing, he tried to cover his mouth with his shirt so he could protect himself from the smoke and dash to the door, but he soon realized it was not possible. His road was blocked, and the only way for him to get out would be through the upstairs windows.

Leo didn’t have the time to figure out how to open the windows so he ended up breaking his bedroom window with a real hammer that he happened to find nearby. Shaking, breathing heavily and trying to avoid the glass shards, he looked down. The fall would be quite big, at least 5-6 meters, but he was no stranger to broken bones. The fights with other school kids had taught him a thing or two about that. He would still be more likely to survive the fall than trying to go out from downstairs; at least there were no stones or other hard objects under the window. He was so full of adrenaline that he didn’t even notice that his hands were bleeding; they had hit the broken glass when he had peeked out.

Finally, he managed to gain enough courage to climb up the windowsill and lift one of his legs over the edge. In the process he scraped himself some more in the glass and tore his pants a bit as well, but who cared? It was a very minor thing compared to his mother’s face if she’d find him dead in the house. For a moment Leo thought about all the blueprints and devices in development in the basement of the house, how hours and hours of his mother’s work would go to waste if the entire house burned down – but that was a thing to worry about for later. It was already too late to do anything but to try to escape.

With a huge lump in his throat as he imagined how his mother would hate him when she’d find out about the fire, Leo finally lifted his other leg over the edge as well, sitting on the windowsill with his legs hanging in the air. The distance between him and the ground seemed even bigger than it had earlier, but he had to do this. Slowly, he inched himself forward, hesitating a bit more, but the sound of the fire breaking something downstairs startled him and finally, he dropped down.

After that his memories started getting hazy. He fainted when hitting the ground and when he first woke up he noticed the pain in his left ankle and some blood coming from his forehead. He was laying on the grass, not unharmed but at least alive, and suddenly he got aware that he had to get farther from the house because the fire could easily spread to the surrounding grounds. He could only hope that a neighbor or a passerby had already called the fire department because he himself would not be able to do that, not with his dizzy head and the pain everywhere in his body. Before he passed out again, his last thought was: when would his mother be back?

The next time he was conscious, he remembered trying to drag himself forward with his hands. He could not stand up, and not even crawl, so that was the only thing he could do. Inch by inch, he got a bit farther from his falling spot, and by that time he also started hearing some distant sirens and human yells somewhere, but his mind could not comprehend what all of it meant.

After that, the next thing he remembered was being lifted from the ground by a first responder. The man tried to tell him soothing words, probably something like ‘poor child, it will be alright’, but Leo didn’t care. He wished the fogginess of his brain would just fade so he could speak and walk on his own feet and find out what happened to his mother – if she returned yet – but afterwards, he wished he would have never found out.

He kept slipping in and out of consciousness for a while, not really sure what was happening around him, until finally he woke up in the hospital. One of his legs and arms had been plastered and a bandage had been wrapped around his head. Already he wished he could have just ripped them off and run away but he knew that wasn’t possible. A couple of minutes later, a nurse finally arrived at his bedside.

“Oh, good, I’m glad you’re awake,” she said, testing his forehead to see if he had a fever. “You scared us there, young one.”

“It’s not me you should be worried about! Where’s my mom?! Hasn’t anyone told her I am here?” Leo demanded in a hoarse voice.

The nurse ignored his question. “Now, what is your name?”

“Leo Valdez,” he answered grumpily, glaring at the nurse.

“Good. How old are you?” the woman asked then.

“8 years. But how does that have anything to do with anything? I want my mom here!”

“Calm down, Mr. Valdez. We are just doing some routine tests. You hit your head pretty badly. Now, do you remember your home address?”

Leo, despite still feeling quite dizzy, got really angry about the question. “Yes, I do, but it doesn’t matter! There’s probably nothing left of it anymore! Because it burned down!” The tears finally demanded to get out of his system as he added with a tiny voice: “And I don’t know where my mom is.”

The nurse looked very hesitant for a moment. “I, um… You know, I think we are gonna complete this test a bit later. There are some people who have been wanting to see you.” She looked towards the door restlessly.

“Is it mom?” Leo asked instantly.

The nurse just shook her head. “You’ll see soon.”

She let the visitors in and left the room, closing the door behind her. Leo found himself staring at a firefighter, who he vaguely recognized as the same one who had carried him to safety after his fall. With him entered a police officer whom Leo had not seen before. Why would a police officer want to meet him, he wondered. Maybe they’d sentence him to prison for burning the house down?

“It was an accident!” Leo blurted before the men had time to say anything, trying to look brave even though he had just cried.

“We know, we know,” the firefighter tried to calm him down. “That’s not why we are here. We wanted to see how you were doing, and, um…” he looked helplessly at his companion.

“We have some bad news,” the police officer went straight to the topic.

“Is it about the house?” Leo asked.

“No, it’s about your mother… she’s gone.”

It took Leo a moment to register what the police officer had said.

“What?” he yelled.

“I’m sorry, but she is dead.”

Leo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was already so panicked that denial was his only coping mechanism left. “Again, what?”

“It is true, young man,” the police officer stated matter-of-factly.

“But she can’t be! She wasn’t even home…!” Leo squeaked, trying to make sense of the situation in his blurry, shocked mind.

The firefighter spoke this time. “I’m so sorry, son… but he’s not lying. We found her in your house. The neighbor who called us had seen her go in before we arrived, and… when we got there… it was already too late.”

“But… but…” Leo had a very hard time getting any words out at that moment. “Why… why would she go in…? And… why didn’t anyone stop her?”

Again the visitors hesitated before answering. “This is just what we heard from a couple of witnesses, but… it seems like she had gone in to… look for you…”

Leo wished the sweet unconsciousness had returned to him in that moment, but that didn’t happen. Instead, it felt like something tried to pull his heart out of his chest. His mind was going through about a hundred different things at the same time: grief, anger, denial… and perhaps above everything else, guilt. It was his fault. It was his fault that the house had burned, and it was his fault that his mother had gone into the burning house. If he had been there to warn her… if she had known… But no, he had had to jump from upstairs to the backyard from where he had been harder to find. And then he had, only half conscious, dragged himself to a nearby trench where the humidity had protected him, being even harder to spot unless you happened to walk right next to it.

That meant that his mother had gone into the house thinking he was there… and she had died thinking he had died. All because he hadn’t listened to her, because he had left some papers on which he had been drawing too near the fireplace.

‘My fault. All my fault’, was all Leo could hear in his head on repeat. He noticed that the firefighter was trying to say something, but he could not register what. Leo didn’t ask him to repeat what he had said. Instead, he stuttered with a weak voice:

“You didn’t answer my other question. Why… didn’t anyone… stop her?”

The police officer sighed sadly. “From what we know, your neighbors had tried to tell her to not go in, that there was nothing she could do, but she refused to listen. The… smoke had already suffocated her by the time we arrived.”

Leo clenched his small fists, unable to focus his gaze anywhere. Everything around him was just a meaningless blur. All of a sudden, nothing mattered to him anymore. With his mother, Leo hadn’t just lost the most important person in his life, the only person who had ever really cared about him and understood him. He had lost his home, his safety, everything that he had loved. More to himself than to the men in the room, he sobbed:

“What's going to happen to me?”

And then everything went blank.

*end flashback*

…

When Leo woke up, he noticed he was breathing very sharply. He had to tell himself to slow it down a bit, trying to focus on the breathing instead of the dream he had just seen. Once he had calmed down a bit, he realized his face was soaked from the tears. The good feeling from the day before was gone, and suddenly he remembered all too well why he hated that holiday so much. His mother had died on Christmas day, 11 years ago.

The worst part about the nightmare he had just seen? It had actually happened. Sure, the details might have changed in Leo’s mind a bit because he had been so young when his mother had died, but most of it was true. The fire, the jumping, the people in the hospital, all true. When he had still been a kid, he had dared to hope that maybe someday the memories would start fading and it wouldn’t hurt so much. But now, 11 years later, he knew better. Thanks to the therapy and Jo, Emmie and the friends’ help, he did have moments when he managed to feel happy, focus on the future and forget the pain for a time being, but when it came back, it was always as intense. And it was especially bad on Christmas days, the anniversary of those horrific events.

‘Pull yourself together’, Leo told himself. ‘This is not what your mother would have wanted for you.’

‘No’, another, the evil voice in his head said. ‘But then again, if it weren’t for you, she would still be here.’

He groaned at himself and decided that it would be better to get himself up and moving rather than lay there listening to the voices. Sitting up, he combed his fingers through his messy hair in an attempt to tame it, with little success. After that, he wiped the tears from his face, trying to pretend it had never happened. Registering the voices coming from the living room, he figured some of his family members were already awake even though it was still rather early. They, especially Georgina, were lucky that they didn’t know what was going through in his head that day; it would have ruined everyone’s Christmas.

Trying to pull himself together and put on a happy face, he got up and washed his face in the bathroom quickly before joining the family. The moment he reached the bottom of the stairs, Georgina ran to him and hugged him.

“Merry Christmas, hermano!”

Leo patted her hair absentmindedly, thinking that Georgina was now only a year older than he had been when… no, he had to stop thinking about it. If not for anyone else’s sake, then Georgina’s. She deserved to have a happy day.

“Merry Christmas to you too, hermanita. Well, did Santa visit? Did he receive my memo on your behavior towards me this year?”

Georgina pulled away from him and folded his arms. “I’m not a little baby anymore; I know Santa doesn’t actually exist. But we did get presents! Even you, although I was kind of surprised about that.���

Leo clutched his shirt. “Ouch, Georgie! I thought you were on my side!”

The siblings continued bickering playfully as they waited for the others. They had a tradition in their house that everyone needed to be there for the present opening. Soon Josephine appeared with a tray full of coffee cups, gingerbread cookies and certain small pies she used to bake every Christmas.

“Where are the others?” Georgina asked impatiently as she started stuffing the cookies into her mouth and drummed her legs against the sofa. “I want to open the presents already!”

“Calm down, Georgie,” Jo scolded her. “Emmie is checking the cats and dogs because they also need care on Christmas day, and Calypso may still be sleeping.”

“Ugh, I told her I wanna start opening the presents early!” Georgina protested. “I’ll go wake her up if she isn’t here in 10 minutes!”

“You’ll wake who up?” Calypso showed up from the stairway. Hearing her voice and seeing her face, Leo forgot for a moment why he had been so upset earlier. Somehow her presence just had that weird effect on him. She was wearing a green holiday sweater knitted by Annabeth over her pajamas – pink with some small flower prints – and her hair was flying freely, slightly wavy because of the braids that Georgie had insisted on making the previous evening. Somehow even that casual look made her look adorable in his eyes and his throat felt dry for entirely different reasons than a few minutes earlier. Leo almost missed Calypso’s next words due to his distraction. “Sorry that you had to wait, Georgina. I was finishing up one last present because I wasn’t entirely happy with it.”

“No worries!” Georgina exclaimed. Apparently the last minute gift preparing was a good enough reason to be late in her books, because Leo knew that if he had been late for the gift opening, the little girl wouldn’t have forgiven that easily.

Calypso put her pile of neatly packed presents under the tree to wait and turned to the others.

“So, merry Christmas, everyone! If I am allowed to be honest with you, I don’t really know a lot about Christmas traditions… My family never celebrated it… But I want to learn!”

“We’ll teach you,” Georgina told her immediately. “It’s gonna be so much fun, you’ll see!”

Leo wished he himself could have been as enthusiastic about the holiday as Georgina was, but tried to keep the happy face on anyway.

“Cal, try some of those pies before Georgie has eaten them all.” He pointed to the tray Jo had brought. Calypso glanced at him suspiciously for a moment. “Don’t give me that look; I swear I didn’t make them. It’s all Jo and Emmie.”

“Fine,” Calypso agreed and took a bite. “This is really good!” she exclaimed once her mouth was empty.

“Told you. Now do you trust me?” Leo asked her teasingly.

“Hmmm. That’s still to be determined,” Calypso replied, but Leo could see her smile into her piece of pie.

As everyone waited for Emmie to return inside, they kept up a light banter as they ate their Christmas breakfast in the living room. Even Leo did his best to participate in it, and soon he did feel a bit better, although if someone had looked at him more closely, they would have noticed the smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes.

Finally, Emmie arrived together with Festus and Georgina instantly pulled her towards the Christmas tree so they could start the gift sharing. A grin spread across Leo’s face as well when he watched the little girl run back and forth as she delivered the packages to their rightful owners. This was now, he tried to remind himself. What happened in the past… was in the past and his mother would probably have wanted him to enjoy these moments.

Not that he’d ever know that for sure, the nasty voice in Leo’s head said again, and the grin almost disappeared from his face.

To no one’s surprise, Georgina got the most presents because even some family friends and neighbors had sent her something (that’s what happened when she got everyone wrapped around her finger, Leo thought), but everyone else got their fair share of self made gifts as well. Leo noticed that Calypso had three packages; one from him, one from Georgina who had insisted on making her own present, and one from Jo and Emmie. He found himself wishing she’d like what he had made; he had spent quite a lot of time on it.

Before anyone could start ripping their wrapping papers off the presents, Festus was given some treats so he wouldn’t interrupt the gift opening too much. Georgina got the privilege of getting to open hers first. She chuckled at Leo’s jokes in the photo album, which Leo took as a success, and squealed excitedly at the tiny dragon toy he had carved from wood and painted. Calypso had sewed her a detailed gryphon plushie, because Leo had told her that Georgina had recently gotten interested in the mythical creatures, a topic Calypso knew a lot about. The little girl hugged the plushie enthusiastically while Calypso promised her to tell her more about the Greek mythology later when they’d have more time. Emmie gave Georgie a tiny beginning of a plant that she’d get to raise on her own, and Jo, the practical person that she was, gave her a pocket knife for tinkering with a warning that she’d only get to use it under her supervision.

Leo and Calypso allowed Jo and Emmie to open their presents next. It was mostly practical stuff, like woolly socks, self made chocolate, and new tools (which broke the ‘homemade’ rule but Leo knew Jo needed them), but Leo had also tinkered frames for a photo of the Waystation family and asked Calypso to decorate it with her paints. The final result looked pretty good in his opinion.

Next was Calypso’s turn. Georgina had attempted to crochet a potholder for her because Leo had guiltily admitted that he may have accidentally ruined one of Calypso’s potholders while cooking something. However, since she was still a beginner in the handicrafts, the potholder had some room for improvement, but Leo could see from Calypso’s happy face that she appreciated the gesture. Leo had also told his mothers that Calypso really loved her flowers, so they gave her a white orchid in a pot that Jo had once crafted. Finally, she opened the gift Leo had made for her. He was biting his lip and tapping his fingers nervously even though he tried to act nonchalant as he watched Calypso’s reaction. Before she removed the paper, she knocked on the surface of the gift, trying to guess what was in it.

“Is this a tool box? So you could borrow mine when you lose yours?” She teased.

“Well, at least that would be useful, don’t you think? But hold your horses; it’s probably not what you think it is,” Leo hinted. Calypso gave him a quizzical look and Leo took that as a sign that she really had no idea what the gift was.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” she noted and started carefully removing the paper. Unlike Georgina, she made sure that the paper would still be usable on some later occasion. Calypso wasn’t entirely wrong with her guess; the gift was indeed a box of sorts. But it wasn’t for tools. Instead, it was a jewelry box; wooden, self made, painted rose pink, which happened to be Calypso’s favorite color. When she opened it, she noticed a small mirror on the lid with some text on it. The box also played one of those few songs that they both happened to like. Calypso traced her finger on the smooth surface of the box for a moment before she noticed that there was still something more in the box: a silvery bracelet with a letter C hanging from it. She took it into her hands and admired it for a moment before reading aloud the text that had been written on the mirror:

“You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep rereading the last one.”

“Um, yeah…” Leo was unsure how he should respond. Suddenly he got worried he had been too straightforward with that message, and Calypso wouldn’t appreciate it. “It was a quote, um, that I happened to stumble upon somewhere recently… But I thought it was quite fitting?”

Calypso looked at him straight into the eyes and for a moment Leo managed to forget that there were others in the room. It was as if she was trying to message him wordlessly that she understood the meaning of the quote.

“Yes, I think it works,” she replied slowly. “For both of us.”

Leo felt his ears getting heated and attempted to comb his hair over them with his fingers to not make it so painfully obvious. Given what day it was, he understood that it was ironic he was using that quote when he himself was struggling to let go from his past.

“True,” he had to admit, looking at the others nervously from the corner of his eye. “It’s… it’s something that we both should try to remember. Something we have in common, right?”

Calypso seemed to accept his explanation. “Right. Um, this box is really beautiful. You’ve seen a lot of trouble with it. The music and all… It’s really nice. Did you even make this bracelet?”

Even though Leo should have prepared himself for that question, he felt embarrassed to reveal the bracelet’s origins, afraid it might sound too sentimental. He rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat to get more time to consider his answer.

“The… the chain was from an old bracelet my mom had… My biological mom, I mean. I didn’t get to keep a lot of her belongings but this had survived… and my dear aunt didn’t want to keep it so I’ve been carrying it around as a charm of some sort. But the thing is, I don’t really need it so it was Jo’s suggestion that I could give it to someone who’d use it. She helped me make this,” he showed the C, “because I don’t really…”

“Want to forge anything,” Calypso finished for him. “Yeah. I understand.”

“Good. If you don’t like it, you can give it to someone else; I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind…”

Calypso gave him an encouraging smile. “Oh, no! This bracelet meant a lot to you so it means a lot to me. It’s a really nice gesture, Leo.”

“You’re welcome?” he replied, kind of flustered by her reaction.

Calypso fiddled with the gift for a moment before turning her attention back to Leo.

“Would you like to put this on my wrist? I’d like to see how it fits.”

“Oh… alright!” Leo agreed, wishing he could say something that didn’t make him sound like a complete idiot. But then again, he reminded himself, wasn’t that what most people thought of him? And since when had he cared?

Calypso handed the bracelet to him and Leo took a very light hold of her wrist, as if afraid that he’d burn her skin with his hot fingers. He was so focused on his task that he even forgot that it was technically against the ‘rules’ they had set, but Calypso had initiated it so who was he to deny her request? He put the chain around her wrist with fumbling fingers and closed the lock. After that he allowed his hand to stay around hers a moment longer. He swiped the surface of the chain with his finger, also touching the back of her hand by accident (or maybe on purpose). Calypso looked up from their hands to him with a surprisingly soft expression that he hadn’t seen since that day when they had promised each other to try harder to be ‘just friends’. His brain sent sparks through his spine and he felt very warm all of a sudden.

“I… um… it seems to fit, doesn’t it?” he finally stuttered, looking down at the bracelet, Calypso’s gaze still lingering in his mind. He let her wrist go and already his hand felt much colder, as if it was missing something.

“Oh, yeah,” Calypso nodded, absentmindedly fiddling with the chain of the bracelet. “It’s small enough that it won’t fall but it’s not too small.”

“Good,” Leo said, a smile returning to his face. “Guess you’re just as tiny as my mom was.” He finally managed to bring out his more playful side.

“Have you looked into the mirror lately, Mister Super-Sized McShizzle? You’re not exactly a giant yourself,” Calypso teased back.

Georgina giggled at her response. “You tell him, Calie!”

“This Georgina here, though,” Leo grinned at her, “she must really have some giant blood in her. She uses my overalls in the garage sometimes!”

“I do not,” Georgina denied quickly. “They’re stinky.”

“Yeah? And you smell like flowers and rainbows,” Leo retorted and started tickling the little girl.

For a moment Leo was able to forget that he hated Christmas as he played with Georgina, but then someone reminded him that he still had to open his own presents. He looked at the pile he had gotten and thought briefly that he had gotten more of them than what he had expected. Georgina had drawn him a picture of him with Festus and sewed him a simple pencil case for his blueprint pencils. Jason and Piper had gotten him a book about weird mechanics facts. Percy had sent him a new orange t-shirt so Leo could return him the one that he had once borrowed after a workout (which, according to Percy, was ‘way too big for him anyway’). Leo’s moms had made him an awesome tool case where even the bigger tools would fit and baked some of his favorite goodies. Finally, it was the turn for Calypso’s present, though.

“What do you think it is?” Calypso asked, glancing at him curiously.

“My first guess would have been a pack of olives because you know how much I love those things… But this doesn’t feel like them. It’s mostly soft but there are some hard parts too. Maybe a bit like a backpack?"

“That wasn’t a half bad guess,” Calypso responded. “But I won’t tell you the correct answer; you can figure it out on your own.” She invited Leo to open the present.

“Okie, Sunshine, will do.”

He ripped the paper (which was Leo’s favorite shade of red) off notably less gracefully than Calypso had done with her presents, but his mouth opened involuntarily when he saw what was inside. It was a toolbelt, not looking like one of those belts that broke in his use after the first couple of days (Leo had a habit to load them too full sometimes), but sturdy, well made. Leo wondered where she had obtained the leather she had used in it, and hoped that it hadn’t cost her too much money. The belt had four different sized pockets for the tools and it seemed like one of them had something in it, but before Leo checked what was inside, he turned to Calypso:

“How did you know I needed one of these?”

“Probably because you’ve been carrying wrenches and stuff in your jean pockets and I’ve also seen your room and that’s enough for me to be able to tell you need a place for your tools,” Calypso smirked. Leo barely heard her answer. He didn’t want to admit aloud that one of the reasons why he was suddenly feeling so sentimental about a tool belt was because it reminded him a lot of the one his mom had made for him when he was a kid. “I hope this wasn’t too much trouble…” He noted more quietly than usual.

“It was not trouble at all,” Calypso reassured him. “I have sewed more difficult things. The leather was actually from one of my old bags that my dad got for me – which I hated – so I didn’t even have to buy a lot of the materials. Besides, you yourself made this,” she knocked the wooden cover of the jewelry box, “and I bet it was a lot more difficult.”

“Nah, it wasn’t…” Leo tried to protest and he noticed the others in the room had a hard time keeping their faces straight as they listened to the flatmates competing whose present had taken more time. “The music was probably the most complicated part.”

“Okay,” Calypso said, deciding to leave the debate there. “Hey, I forgot to mention that there is something small in one of the pockets. You could check it out now.”

“Alright, I will,” Leo told her. He reached out to the said pocket and found a small box from it. His smile instantly disappeared from his face when he realized what it was. Everyone went quiet for a while as they were waiting for his reaction.

“Why would you give me matches, especially today of all days?” He lifted his gaze from the box, his eyes sparkling angrily. Before anyone could say anything, he threw the box away and jumped up from his seat. Calypso’s sad face was the last thing he saw before storming out of the room.

[angst-king]

I didn’t ask for this pt1

(Trigger warning, Rape against a minor. Mention of selfharm, teen pregnancy, not graphic but well we’ve all got our own versions of ‘graphic) (i don’t own BNHA or any canon characters)

Kaminari was on his way back to UA from his boyfriend's house, even though his lover offered to walk him Kaminari refused. Sure it was dark out but Shinsou's house wasn't too far from UA. Grabbing his shoes and putting them on he gives tator-tot and nacho one last 'good bye' before he stood up to kiss his lover. "I'll see you on Friday Toshi, I love you." He smiles standing on his toes looking the witch in the eyes, Shinsou smiles back kissing his forehead before hugging him. "Are you sure you don't want me to walk with you, its late love." Denki chuckles softly "Toshi I'm not a child I don't need you to walk me to school, I'll text you when I get back to my dorm, I promise Hitoshi." "alright then, have a good day at school." With that the door opened and Kaminari left to head back to UA.

Shinsou watched the other leave as the kittens did so too, when the other was far enough. Shinsou sighed and closed the door. Picking up the kittens he takes them to go and play with them in the bedroom. As Denki walked a man came from behind as he passed and alley. the man remained quiet, his footsteps unheard even as his pace quickened until he grabbed Denki from behind! Denki yelped and thrashed "the hell man let go!" lighting up a little. The man dragged him deep into the alley way where he shoved a cloth gag into Denki's mouth with a smirk on his lips he darkly chuckles "I might just keep you awake during this" he says while grinding his hips onto him. Continuing to thrash and cry out, Denki's yelling was fruitless but did start clawing and hitting. The man grumbled and groaned "I usually like a fiesty bottom but, this is too much." Using his quirk, a hand traced up from Denki's waist to his neck. His fingers had an orange padding that left hickey like burns on Denki. A soft whispered 'fall' which would spread a feeling paralysis to Denki's legs and arms, scrambling his brain into nothing. Keeping him conscious but unable to move, the man held Denki in a way to keep him up while he did as he pleased with the teenager. When he was done, the man left Denki in the alley way. Pulling up his pants and casually walking off, leaving the young blond in his mess on the ground. Denki would be able to wake up with some feeling in his body. Denki was knocked out cold. Waking up about an hour later, a ton of emotions hit him like a truck, he....he really did inside!  Breathing quickly and shaking heavily, the young Kaminari was having a panic attack which lasted a whole twenty minutes before he was forced to calm himself down. He called the first person on his emergency call list, ...Aizawa. Aizawa was asleep with Yamada when his phone went off. He grumbled waking up to it and answered, "what is it?" he didn't sound too pleased to be woken up at this time of night.. Still groggy and half asleep he yawned sitting up in the bed.

"S-Sensei hic...” Denki was crying and sniveling. “S-sensei pl-please I-I need you“ He could barely hold back his sobs, this instantly woke up the teacher. Quickly shaking to wake up his husband next to him who shot up out of his deep sleep. "huh what?" Aizawa was already getting out of the bed "We're on our way Kaminari sit tight. Come on Mic we need to go now!" "wh-what's going on?" Asked the sleepy blonde, Aizawa told him that one of their students needed them urgently. So Hizashi put on some clothes, grabbed the emergency bag while Aizawa grabbed his binding clothe in case anything escalated. When both men were ready to go, they headed out of the dormitory and to Kaminari's location that Aizawa asked for before they'd hung up.

A sickening sense of dread filled the raven haired male, he would rather this be a prank than be right about something terrible happening to one of his students. Hizashi asked what Kaminari told him which wasn't much help but they were at least close by. When the reached near the place Kaminari gave them, the teachers began calling out to the first year student. They didn't need to hear the other to find him, turning on a flash light Hizashi gasped upon what he saw through the light. A curled up blonde who's hair was a mess, various bruises, blood drawn from harsh scratching and pushing. Covered and dripping with visible semen, his clothes ravaged on the ground leaving the small Kaminari bare and naked. "Oh my god" Eyes wide at the boy's state the teachers hurry over and kneel down. They could see Denki was shaking, not only from the chill of the night air but from anxiety and fear. Tear stained cheeks, white knuckles digging into his bicep.

"Oh Kaminari, we're here now its gonna be okay. Does anything hurt?" With a small whimper Denki stammered to them as Mic went through the bag. "I-I f-feel numb s-sensei" Pulling out a thick blanket, Hizashi draped it around Kaminari. "What feels numb Kaminari, what happened to you?" Aizawa didn't wanna be right with his suspicion, his thoughts swam as he noticed all the slick of the man's doings. "I-I" Kaminari was terrified and Aizawa knew that what just happened to him must've traumatized him. The boy shook harder as tears rained down from his cheeks, eyes darting around until Aizawa lightly put  hand on his shoulder which made him jump. 

"Denki shhh its gonna be okay, we just need to know what happened so we can help you kiddo." Denki stuttered out an explanation of what happened, hearing this, Aizawa and Yamada both share a horrified look. "Oh Kaminari we're sorry you had to go through that kid but. We're here now." Encouraged Yamada in a soft parental voice, with a small sniffle Kaminari whimpered and nodded but then grabbed his head wincing. "does your head hurt bud?"  Aizawa earned a nod "okay why don't we get you to recovery girl and get you checked out, cleaned up, and resting yeah?" Denki had never heard Aizawa speak this softly to him, but it was comforting. Aizawa then leaned down and picked Denki up. Holding him on his hip and letting the blond's head rest on his shoulder. Standing up fully, Aizawa adjusted the blanket and told Hizashi to call recovery girl as they walked back to the dorms. Soft sniffles, whimpers, shakes, and sobs, Kaminari felt like a child as he clung to Aizawa. Aizawa wasn't the best with feeling and comfort in certain scenarios but, right now he knew that his student needed him emotionally. Something in his brain clicked, the students and staff recognized that Aizawa always had some what of a fatherly side when his students needed him. This was happening again, Aizawa's parent mode turned on. While they walked he rubbed the blond's back, hushing him, gingerly combing his fingers through Denki's hair to sooth him just a little.

When they got to UA, Hizashi opened the door for Aizawa, they both head to a tired recovery girl's office. Coming in, Recovery girl has the exam bed ready, which Aizawa placed Denki on. Holding the blanket to cover himself up, Denki made a small sound as Recovery girl approached. "Kaminari dear, what happened?" Denki could barely say "I-I d-didn't wa-want this" It broke them all, Recovery girl sighed. Aizawa told her what Deki said earlier and she was just as terrified as much as she was disgusted. Recover girl the asked Denki if she could examine him, he quickly shakes his head and curls up. She sees him wince and hold his head so she asked. "Does your head hurt Kaminari?" Kaminari nods "can I see?" another nod, so Recovery knows she'll have to take it slow with the electric blond. She sees that he's traumatized and doesn't really want to be touched, but she's breaking down small bits of his walls. It takes some coaxing and reassurance from his teachers but they got Denki to let recovery girl help him. She bandaged up the multiple cuts, abrasions, bites and other injuries. Giving him medicine for the pain, Recovery girl gave Denki his space now. "Well Kaminari, for the time being everything seems to be okay physically. Please take these antibiotics until you finish the bottle okay and if you start to feel sick or your chest or something isn't acting right come to me." Denki had barely said a word since her first question still only nodding to answer her. She then turned to the teachers and motioned them to speak privately. 

They followed her to the far side of the room and spoke quietly. "We should have the police investigate this matter, maybe warn the students when it comes to going out during the night times." Aizawa folds his arms over his chest "I agree, but I think we should keep Denki's situation out of our mouths. Its his decision on who he tells and if he wants to. Still we need to start an investigation and we will need him to speak but if he's unable to do so in person then I will speak on his behalf." Hizashi spoke up "I feel terrible for him, if I were in his shoes I probably wouldn't be able to articulate much to authorities....this was just like Yuu's situation but, for a girl now you at least were taken a little more seriously than a boy would." Hearing the memory of their fellow pro hero's pass predicament from their late high school days. "True she ended up pregnant and carried her little girl to full term though.. I fear that Kaminari may have the same fate but not handle it like Yuu did." Recovery girl explained, the pro heroes frowned "I've heard that the rate of young males being pregnant and surviving at Denki's age is low.. I read it in an article I'd saw online a month or so ago. They die from depression, anxiety, isolation or a combination of things in those wheel houses." Aizawa's tone seemed dull yet serious but his eyes held a hidden rage of a thousand suns. Mic gulped nervously eying his student who was bundled in the warmth of the blanket. "We should keep an eye on him shouldn't we?" Inquired the long haired blond, the two other heroes agreed. Coming back to their student who was curled up in a ball, wrapped in the blanket Mic had put on him as a cover up. His eyes closed with tears staining his flushed face, his body limp and bandaged in various places. When they noticed he was asleep, Recovery girl had told the adults to head back to their dorm. She ensured them of the young Kaminari's safety but Hizashi still had to drag Shota away from the nurse's office.

[valorblooded]

“Get down!”

A hail of bullets showered down over their heads as Connor was all but thrown to the floor. An ambush-- as if it could even be called that-- had broke out in one of the more rundown and emptied warehouses. There had been some decently sourced entail of Revara having stored some guns and drugs, and it was right. It just failed to mention the goons had been held up in the joint for days already.

The only thing that could make this better was if the bastard himself had the balls to join his men in the steak-out. The bitter thought made Connor’s mouth dry and the hand holding the fully loaded gun tremble.

The entire plan had been a simple one. Three groups of his men, the first entered from the back, the second from the side entrance, and the third from the catwalk. If there was anyone, they would be the first to react. And they were, because if they weren’t, they would be dead instead of penned in various locations around this abandoned shake.

Drix was yelling, panic rising in his voice as he spouted off orders, left and right, into his walkie-talkie. Keeping their men focused on why they even came here. The men on the catwalk was keeping most of the fire back, penning down the main point of Revara’s men down.

Their barricade of boxed ratty shipment must be filled with heavy metal machinery with how the bullets never made it through it, but bounced off at odd angles with high pitched dings. A hand was put on Drix’s shoulder as Connor returned fire briefly. A man from across the building shouted in pain.

Hunkering back down, Connor spoke into his own walkie-talkie. “Group C, retreat from the rafters. Circle around to the front, and watch your backs.”

To his credit, Drix waited until after Connor released his finger on the device and after another shower of bullets rained down before questioned, “Why the hell did you tell them that? They are keep those bastards from swarming us!”

“Yeah, I know, but they’re spread thin as is. We can surround them instead of cowering.”

“Cowering is keeping our dumbasses ALIVE.”

“Just breathe.”

There was humor in the calm way he handled active stress while his brother was seconds away from having a heart attack. The humor gets lost once the adrenaline leaves his system and he’s sick for a few days but that was later Connor’s problem. With how a bullet got entirely too close, just grazing his side, Connor got the oddest sensation that he’d have to recover from more than just stress. He pressed closer to his brother as the seconds ticked by, the sound of reloading breaking the loud rhythm of bullets' ricocheting wildly.

He felt Drix curl in tighter, trembling and muttering, trying to fight off the panic attack that was already in progress. Can’t blame him for it, since that’s a normal response to the real threat to dying. Connor only gripped him tighter, allowing his masked face to press into his shoulder as he tried to steady his breathing. 

With every deep breath, his hands steadied, until a man appeared on the opposite side of the boxes. At Drix’s back. Time slowed nearly completely in that moment. Too slow to swallow past the lump but fast enough to feel every gnaw of fear on his spine as he reacted faster than his mind could keep up. The click of the emptied chamber was the only thing that brought him back to the present.

The man was on the ground, he couldn’t even count the bullet holes that entered him, or the spray on the wall behind him. Drix was speaking from under him, high pitched, words running into each other that Connor only caught the tail end of it when Drix pressed his hand into shoulder and pulled it away, showing red dripping down his black gloved hand.

It certainly wasn’t the first time he got shot, and it wouldn’t be the last, he couldn’t even feel it, far too numb from the shock. Another hail of gunshots made them duck down lower. It was further away, and for a half second, Connor worried he was losing blood a bit too quickly, but the sound of the opposing men yelling, “Behind us! Turn aroun--” with many of the words being cut short with another volley of bullets.

“For fuck’s sake! Took them long enough,” Drix breathed out in shakily, keeping pressure on the fresh wound. Connor reloaded his gun.

“Its a big building, it’ll take a minute to walk around,” The snap of the clip felt grounding, as another deep breath was taken when he moved to aim and fire his gun with far more purpose than just protecting and surviving. The goons fell in waves with no where to hide.

Once the returning fire failed to sound off, a much needed breath of relief reverberated throughout the warehouse. Connor was the first to stand, with Drix keeping an iron clamp grip on his shoulder. Looking over the place, the damage was a tad extensive, bullet holes littered the walls, and the windows had been blasted out. With all that fire, even if the fight lasted shorter than ten minutes, they had to move quick. He could nearly hear the sirens on the wind.

Connor barked out orders, anyone injured immediately get removed while those capable spread out and look for what they came for. Which was unfortunate since he was also shoved outside as soon as he gave the command, and had to get the good news of the shipment being found from the back of a truck with a medic digging for the bullet.

“Pack it up so we can get the fuck out of here. Good work.” Drix replied when Connor didn’t, his ceramic mask not missing the stiffening as the numbness gave way to stark pain of having to look for a bullet in the dark. Moments later, a small metal shell was dropped into a plastic bag, and he was bandaged.

Meanwhile, crates upon crates were being pulled from the warehouse. They had enough trucks for it, they knew exactly how many that they wanted. It was satisfying watching the trucks get filled so efficiently.  

What wasn’t satisfying was being shoved between his nagging brother and equally nagging medic into the back of the truck. 

“What the hell is wrong with you? We had a plan, we follow the plan! What would’ve happened if you missed your shot, or if there were more than one of them, huh?”

“I’d get shot. More shot.” The reply earned him a smack on the back of his neck, a small price for smartassery.

“Sir, I am trained in emergency medicine. Not resurrection. Please take your Consigliere’s words to heart.” Josey, the medic, added in her two cents. She busied herself with rearranging the items in her medkit. Connor chose not to think about how often the thing gets opened for his behalf. Instead, he focused on the fatigue, the energy seeping from his limbs with every tired exhale. He wanted nothing more than to throw his helmet out of the window so he can breathe.

“Yeah, yeah , I get it. Consider it locked away in memory. We have a plan, we follow the plan, we get into a gun fight that lasts long enough for the police to show up, in which we fight them if not all of us die in the spray of bullets, or we get captured to be locked up for life or to get the chair.” Tonight was a good night for them, no one died and supply stolen, “So how about you trust in your fucking boss to make the best decisions, yeah?”

Connor could feel Drix practically chew his tongue to keep quiet. The only good thing about this lopsided dynamic they have. He’ll get the earful later, like he always does, behind closed doors. On the other end, Josey simply closed her case and looked out the window. Cop cars raced down the street toward a scene that could be only described as a massacre. Probably. There really wasn’t much time to see what their handiwork looked like when he ushered out.

The truck driver waited. Sirens and lights illuminating the pitch black alleyways, but they were speeding far too fast to take notice. Silence on the radio meant no one else was having any problems with staying low either. A moment longer, they started to move on the road once again. Josey released a breath. Drix crossed his arms, facing the window. 

A successful night.

[justanotherlifeff]

Levi Ackerman × reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, matured themes, slowburn

Warning: There's mentions and descriptions of underage rape and suicidal themes and self harm.

Levi POV

At the moment, I was in the Trost district with Pastor Nick. I showed him the evacuation of people from Wall Rose in Ehrmich district last night. It made him talk about a certain Krista Lenz from 104 training Corps. (Y/N) must know her. Pixis was in Trost and Erwin asked me to be there with him as the Garrison was involved in finding the hole in the wall. Now that I was sure about what to do about (Y/N), all I could do was wait for her to return. I didn't distrust her abilities. I knew she was a very efficient and lethal soldier, however, the only thing bothering me were her injuries.

 She kept the sprained leg in check with a bandage but how long would that hold up? In case of combat, it would be a nuisance and decrease her abilities by a lot. There are possibilities that she won't be able to walk for a long time if she puts too much strain on herself. I wasn't a doctor but watching Hanji heal so many of our comrades gave me a vague idea on such things. 

I was sitting on the cart with the pastor and talking to some military police soldiers when a messenger came rushing and said "THE ADVANCE PARTY IS BACK! SOMEONE TELL COMMANDER PIXIS!". I wanted news about (Y/N) as soon as possible but I decided that looking too eager would raise suspicion. After Pixis and Erwin came down from the wall, the messenger continued, "W-we found no holes or any other irregularities in the wall.. B-but the situation has turned into an emergency! On our way to report to Trost district, we encountered a Survey Corps team led by Hange! There were a number of unequipped recruits and one equipped but badly worn out recruit from the 104th with them, but among them three of those soldiers were titans!" the messenger quivered.

 She was alive. The soldier mentioned to Erwin that they were the Colossal titan but the fight didn't go well. "Was anyone killed?" I asked the soldier. "Yes heichou. One member from the Garrison was eaten by the colossal titan. Many are injured from the steam released by the colossal titan." the soldier quivered. Now I was sure that she was alive. Now I have the chance to make things right when she returns.

A few hours back:

(Y/N) POV

We were travelling to the wall to be safe from any remaining titans on the ground. Garrison members were gonna meet us up there with food and information about the location of the hole in the wall. I was tired and hungry because the last time I ate anything was bread that I bought from a store inside wall Sina on my way to the safehouse. I fought all night with only an hour of sleep. I felt dizzy and passed out on the cart while we were on our way to the walls.

My parents were going on a date. I was 8 years old. They kept a babysitter to take care of me. His name was Jacob. My parents went on dates once a week. They used to keep this lovely lady named Miriam who used to read books to me but then she stopped coming and Jacob replaced her instead. My parents told me that they will keep me safe and I trusted them but I felt uncomfortable with Jacob around. He used to hug me for too long, ask to kiss his lips because he said I would be a bad girl if I didn't listen and my parents will leave me back to that horrible place. 

My parents said that Jacob is a nice person and I felt like they really would leave me if I didn't listen to him. So I did what he asked for the last two months. Today it was the same but something felt different about Jacob today. I was in the kitchen eating an apple when someone hugged me from behind. I didn't do anything because Jacob always did that. I was always uncomfortable about it but I didn't dare to say anything. Jacob made me sit on his lap this time. He didn't do it before but it made me more uncomfortable. 

Suddenly he turned me around to face him and horror struck me when I saw his face. His round fat face had that look which I saw too many times in that place they rescued me from. Before I could react, my clothes were torn, my hands were held firmly, my legs were stuck between his and I saw his penis was already out. I knew what was going to happen. "Not again" I thought. My eyes were tearing up. I felt helpless until I remembered that there was a knife on the kitchen table just behind me. I could use it to threaten him and get out of the house.

 "You did all kinds of things in the underground didn't you? Well, lowlife sluts like you deserve that. I wonder why Mr and Mrs Hertz don't use you the way you are supposed to be used." he said touching me all over. "He's wrong" my mind screamed. "I won't be touched again" my mind kept screaming."Not today" I snarled in my mind and hit his head with mine as hard as I could. It hurted me like hell and I felt dizzy. It made his hands loosen but not his legs and I knew I couldn't reach the knife this way. I had to escape this.

 "YOU BITCH" he shouted and before he held me again, I stabbed two fingers from two hands in his eyes. This involuntary movement was caused by the fact that I was scared he might hurt me much more due to this act of resistance. He shrieked and I got scared as I realised what I had and curled my fingers into a fist. His eye balls came out and were hanging by two nerves in each eye socket. He let go of me completely and was shrieking and withering. 

I ran to the kitchen table to get the knife as I was scared of him and what I had done. He was screaming in pain and saying words that I couldn't make out. I assumed that he was cursing at me. Suddenly, I felt calm. I stopped him. I remembered everything he said moments ago. Did I deserve what he was about to do to me? I remembered things that were done to me. How much it hurted. How the pain never stopped. How I grew used to the pain. Maybe I did deserve it. But that doesn't mean I can't avoid it. With the knife in my hand, I approached the withering disgusting man.

"(Y/N)! Wake up!" I heard Hanji shout. I opened my eyes to see the massive wall. A lift was getting everyone up on the wall. I remembered the dream I had. It was a memory that I had always wanted to forget but never managed to. I suppose deep down, I didn't want to forget because I didn't regret it one bit. "Is there food up there?" I asked Hanji. "Yes the Garrison soldiers are supposed to bring food for you lot. It's field rations so don't expect anything tasty" she told me with a smile and went back to check on the others.

 The sun was up properly. I assumed it had been an hour or two. My leg still was hurting but I could walk. I walked on to the lift and it was pulled up. The view from above the wall was as spectacular as always. I sat on an edge waiting for the Garrison's advanced unit to arrive. A few minutes later, they arrived with news that there was no hole in the wall. As they were discussing it, I waited for them to bring the food out as I was famished and weak. 

Eren was talking to Reiner and Bertholdt about something and he looked kinda flustered. I was looking at them when suddenly Reiner removed his bandages and his hand was steaming like Ymir. I stood up shocked. Does that mean Reiner is a titan shifter? Suddenly I saw Mikasa charge at Reiner and Berthold slashing Reiner's hand and some of Berthold's neck. She charged at them again shouting at Eren to run and just then, they transformed into the armoured and Colossal titan. 

I stood there dumbstruck as the armoured titan grabbed Eren. I knew I couldn't fight so I tried to run as far as possible from the colossal titan. My sprained leg made it difficult but I was doing my best. I saw Eren transform in Reiner's hand and fight him. I decided to process all that information later as I had to survive first. I had to see Captain Levi again.

 The colossal titan threw a fist on the wall and I was far enough to not get hit. I didn't have any gas in my 3DMG so I knew I couldn't fight anyway. Running was my only option. I kept running away from it, making as much distance as I could between us. Hanji and the others were trying to fight it but just like the last time, it emitted a gust of steam making it impossible to get close and giving everyone burns.

 That's when everyone went to fight Reiner but none of their blades were working because of his hardened skin. I regretted the fact that all I could do is watch. "Just like that day" I thought, remembering the dream I had earlier. But this time I knew better. I couldn't make reckless decisions because for the first time, I had something to lose.

It seemed like an eternity of sitting down. The fight was over. Eren and Ymir were kidnapped by Reiner and Berthold. I saw everything and couldn't do anything about it. I was given food and water and I waited for someone to come and take me back to the base. I was tired and my body ached. I wanted to go home.

Five hours later:

I dozed off for a while but the wall wasn't too comfortable. I had a dreamless uncomfortable nap before waking up to the sound of horses. Other survey Corps soldiers were here along with the military police. Levi Heichou wasn't here presumably because of his injury. I was able to go back to a remote cabin where Eren and Historia/ Krista would be hidden. Apparently they are a part of the new Special operations squad. When I came in, I found Levi Heichou sitting on the dining table which is the first room after getting inside the cabin. He had stacks of papers that he was working with. As soon as I got in, he looked at me. 

We made eye contact for a brief moment till he looked back at the paper he was working on and stated, "Take a bath. You look like shit. After that, come back and report everything to me. The bathroom is on the second floor, and your room is the one to the right. You're the second in command of my squad now so you will get your own room.". I murmured a "Yes heichou" and headed to the place he mentioned.

 So, he decided to make me second in command now? He did mention that I had the capability to get that position. I hoped it had nothing to do with our conversation that day and everything to do with my abilities. I felt weak and dizzy after taking a bath but I went downstairs to report everything. Levi Heichou was sipping a cup of tea while I briefed onto everything. When I told him about my titan kill count, he mentioned that it was quite impressive that I was able to do that and I might break squad leader Mike's record this way. I heard from him that squad leader Mike was dead. 

When I was done, and leaving, he said, "(Y/N), wait.". There was something about his voice that I didn't recognise. It wasn't his usual bored voice. It was booming, demanding and powerful but it had something else. He stood up, looked straight at my eyes as if to assess something. Then he walked right at me and kissed me.

Levi POV

I thought all day about what to say to her. I couldn't deny my attraction towards her anymore. I just didn't care anymore about the complications. I couldn't stand the thought of her dying alone. I wanted to be there for her till the end, no, I needed to be there. I knew I had to man up and be there for her and face the consequences. The only problem was, till the last moment, I didn't know how to express it all. After she was done reporting, I asked her to wait. I stood looking at her trying to find a way to tell her how I felt about that morning and her in general but that's when I realised that I could show it to her instead of saying mere words. 

I came to her trying to contain myself but when my lips met hers I lost all control and gave up all the passion and lust that was built up over time inside me ever since I laid my eyes on her. This beautiful strong creature squirming in my arms was everything I could ever ask for and the one thing I desired was to get lost into the bliss that I was in right now. Wait, why is she squirming? 

I removed my lips from hers to find a scared crying (Y/N) trying to get out of my grasp. I quickly removed my hands from her waist as she looked at me with fear in her eyes. My heart sunk at the expression she gave me. I remembered what she said about her past and realised what grave mistake I made. "I'm sorry (Y/N). I just wanted you to know how I feel about that morning. It was wrong of me to behave so coldly with you that day. I'm not good with words so I thought I could show you how I feel. You understand that right? I'm sorry I got carried away. I understand if you don't feel the same way or if you want to take it slo.." before I could finish, her lips were on mine. 

She wasn't going for a passionate or dominating kiss but rather something soft. I liked it for a change. I had never kissed a girl like that. She removed her lips after a few moments and I could clearly see the blush on her face. "I feel the same but please don't scare me like that. I avoided any physical intimacy for years and it is all very sudden for me. Please give me some time to process everything?" she asked in a quiet voice. 

"Okay. I can go by that pace. However, no one can know about us. You're my subordinate and not to mention you're a lot younger than me. The situation we are in is complicated enough and this will complicate things more. We have a lot of enemies now and I'm not talking about titans. If anyone knows, you could be a target and I don't want that. Do you understand?" I explained to her. She gave a weak smile at me and answered "Yes I understand." "Go get some rest. I'll cook something up before the new squad arrives. They should be back by evening. Get up after a few hours and eat." I stated and she replied with a "Yes heichou" before going upstairs. I needed to ask her to call me just Levi when there was no one around. 

To be continued... 

Taglist: @kingtamakimurder @realityisoftendisapointing

[gothic-safari-clown]

The Mind’s Power Over the Body

PART FIVE: LIBERATION

Story Summary:  They only ever had each other. It had been that way since high school, ever since Elianna transferred to dreary Arlen and took Jonathan under her wing. They go separate ways for college, and when they’re reunited at Arkham Asylum professionally, Elianna comes to find that they’ve both changed during their time separated. Can she look past the promise of danger and stay by Jonathan’s side as they slide further and further into the darkness while she grapples to come to terms with the truth about herself? Can she accept what needs to be done in order to hold onto the only person who holds any meaning in her life? This is a very self-indulgent AU that draws from several different canons of the DCU and ignoring others, starting in the Batman Begins Nolanverse. This will follow the plot of the movie, although the timeline has been very slightly tweaked.

Trigger Warning: Mention of suicidal thoughts, blood, stalking, assault, and explicit language

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

Word count: 5414

When her alarm sounded on the morning after her weekend, Elianna was under no circumstances ready to wake up. Vaguely ominous dreams had plagued her for the third night in a row, and although she couldn’t recall a single detail, they had left a looming sense of foreboding hanging over her head.

Unhungry, she decided to skip breakfast and took advantage of the extra time that the decision bought her after getting ready to pick up a coffee from the shop down the street from her apartment on her way to work.

The uneasy feeling redoubled as she parked in her spot and shut off the car. “Something bad is going to happen today,” she said aloud to herself. “But at least I can be ready for it.”

She picked up her week’s schedule from the front desk, and one glance over it told her exactly where the trouble would come from. Her first session of the day was with Zsasz, right in the morning. She sighed when she saw it and shook her head, thanking the receptionist begrudgingly, and made her way up to her office.

Upon arriving, El retrieved her notes from the other day to look over them and compare them to the pre-existing information in Zsasz’s file. A knock on the door caught her attention, and she looked up at it, lifting herself out of her seat with a sigh. Opening the door, she found Jonathan on the other side and let herself relax.

“Good morning, love, come on in,” she welcomed distractedly and stepped aside to let him in. Looking at his face, he seemed as tired as she felt. “You look terrible, Jonathan, did you sleep at all last night?”

“Not much,” he admitted as she returned to her seat, and he settled into the guest seat opposite her. He cast a weary look around her still bare office. “Knowing you, I thought you would have decorated a little more already.”

“Hm?” El asked distractedly, looking back up from her notes. “Oh, yeah, I just haven’t thought about it much, I guess.” She looked around at the naked walls for herself. “Although now that I am, I suppose I’ll bring some stuff tomorrow. Care to help me?” She leaned her weight upon her elbows on the desk and rested her chin on the lattice of her fingers.

“Do I have a choice?” He cocked an eyebrow, to which El smiled in response, absentmindedly noticing once again the way the light would catch in his eyes with the slightest shift of his head.

“Of course you do, but if you loved me, you would anyway.” She gave a wide, innocent smile and blinked sweetly at him, earning an eye roll and a tiny smile in response.

“Oh, and who says that I do?” he challenged.

“Well, there’s me, of course,” El began, counting off on her fingers, “and the fact that you made extra sure that the warden would read my application so that I would have to come here and work with you. So there you have two pretty solid sources, but I’m sure that I could think of more if that isn’t enough.”

“Alright, alright, you’ve got me, you win,” he replied tiredly, raising his hand for her to stop, to which Elianna chuckled softly, before finding her attention back on Zsasz’s file. “What are you so distracted by?”

“Ugh, just my first session this morning.” She sighed, shaking her head and beginning to gather everything she would need into her briefcase; she had fifteen minutes, and she liked to be early to things. “Have you ever worked with Victor Zsasz?” El asked her friend as she stood, to which he shook his head and stood with her. “Well, wish me luck and hope that I don’t get killed next time he decides to escape.” She opened the door for Jonathan to leave first and followed him into the hallway.

“Well, I don’t have any appointments scheduled until this afternoon. Want some company?”

“Please.” The pair started down the hallway to the stairs. “So how’s…our mutual friend? Is he the reason you didn’t sleep well?” El inquired, looking to change the subject.

“Mostly. I also had some paperwork to finish before the weekend was over, and that took a while.” They chatted about Jonathan’s disorganized work habits as they followed the stairwell to the third floor.

Waiting for them were the same three guards from the day before. Once again, one posted himself at the glass—now joined by Jonathan—and the original two accompanied Elianna inside.

“Good morning, Victor. Sleep well?” She asked politely as she took her seat and once again removed her notepad and pen from her briefcase along with her trusty voice recorder.

“Like a rock, doctor. That’s the upside of a padded room; you can get comfortable anywhere.” Oh, that voice. Once again, El found herself fighting off a shiver.

“Why don’t we pick up where we left off a few days ago?” El suggested amicably and made a small note when she didn’t receive an answer. “How about you tell me what made you begin liberating people?” Immediately, Zsasz’s mood shifted; he clearly loved to talk about himself. Narcissistic??? El scribbled in her notes as he began to speak.

“One might say that I had it all,” he mused. Oh, dear, thought Elianna, he’s rehearsed this too. “Wealth. Family.” The word fell to the table and dripped with sarcasm. “Until one fateful day, my dear, sainted parents died in a boating accident. Consumed with grief, I soon gambled all that wealth away, and made my solemn way to Gotham Bridge.” The lilting of his voice reminded El of a dramatic narration over a soap opera. “As I prepared for the plunge, I was confronted by a homeless gentleman with a knife, who demanded I give him all of my money. Of course, I had none left, but he simply wouldn’t believe me. A struggle ensued, and I ended up with the knife.” The memory makes Zsasz smile dreamily. “I stared that man in the eyes and saw the meaninglessness of life. The desperation, the hatred, and the hardship that I felt in myself, and I realized something…significant: it’s all for nothing. You could say, in a way, I owe my existence to that man. With that first kill, I became what I am today.”

“I see. May I ask you a question, Victor?” El looked up from the diligent notes she had been taking during his story.

“Isn’t that what you’re here for, doctor?”

“Well, your work liberating people gives you a purpose of sorts, doesn’t it?” Zsasz remained silent, but his eyes narrowed, and his smile faltered slightly. “To your mind, it gives your life meaning. In which case, life can’t be meaningless. In fact, I could argue that my purpose is to tell you this now, couldn’t I?” She hadn’t meant to get philosophical, yet there she was anyway.

“Very well spoken, Doctor Montgomery,” the criminal’s wide grin picked back up, and something in his voice had changed. Once again, the feeling of impending danger spiked, and El rose to her feet slowly in preparation to make for the door. “However, if that’s the case, then that would mean that your purpose has been served, wouldn’t it?” Suddenly, Zsasz lunged over the table, cuffs flung to the floor, and El heard one of the guards shout ‘he’s got a knife!’ and on instinct, her arm flew up to cover her face as she stumbled backward. A slicing pain rippled through her forearm near her elbow before the guards had a chance to catch him, and at the moment, she found herself stupidly upset about her now ruined yellow shirt before kicking herself mentally. That isn’t even close to important right now!

Forcing herself back to the situation at hand, Elianna fumbled to open the door behind her as her escorts surged forward to subdue the enraged Victor Zsasz. An alarm suddenly blared through the asylum when the outside guard pressed the emergency button beside the door, the sudden noise making Elianna flinch hard.

When she finally managed to wrench the door into swinging open towards her, El practically fell through it, and Jonathan was already there half supporting and half dragging her into the hallway as the third guard rushed past them into the room to help his peers. “What the hell happened?” She demanded, defensively angry. “Why weren’t his damn cuffs secured?” El felt herself trembling as her mind raced, gradually realizing that she had been in danger from the second she entered the room. Was it his sadistic enjoyment of suspense, or his desire to talk about himself that had kept her safe for that long?

“I don’t know, whoever brought him in must be helping him,” Jonathan explained breathlessly, raising the redhead’s arm to look at the gash. “This looks bad, come with me,” he did a good job of hiding the distress in his voice for his friend’s sake but kept a firm grip around her shoulders as he escorted her to the infirmary.

As soon as they walked in, a nurse was there to greet them, having been informed of the situation.

“Is it bad?” El asked the nurse, who shook her head.

“It’s a shallow cut, nothing to worry over. I’m going to clean and bandage it, and you should be good to go.”

“He went straight for your throat.” Jonathan recounted. “If you hadn’t thrown your arm up so quickly-” he shook his head, arms crossed over his chest.

“I don’t want to think about it,” El closed her eyes, swallowing hard. “At least we know I have good reflexes,” she added quietly in an attempt to lighten the mood and earned a smile from the nurse as she began wrapping a bandage around the wound. When she finished, she handed El a spare roll.

“You’ll want to take this one off before you shower and rewrap it afterward to be safe, but it should be alright in a few days.”

“He’ll be assigned a different doctor by tomorrow,” Jonathan commented as El stood, and she looked at him sharply.

“What? No!” she exclaimed, her adrenaline still pumping, and Jonathan looked at her as though she should be admitted. “I want to keep working with him; I can’t just let my first major case go like that!”

“Absolutely not,” he argued firmly, keeping his voice steady.

“We can have extra security next time, and have them double-check the-”

“No!” El stopped in surprise. He had never snapped at her like that before. He sighed exasperatedly. “Look, it isn’t up to me, the administration won’t reassign you to his case, but even if it were, there’s not a chance that I’d let you back into a room with him.” El stared him down defiantly, but upon seeing his resolve, she gave in.

“Fine.” She conceded begrudgingly. “I’ll just find another way to prove myself.” Jonathan nodded in response.

“That’s much better, and you will. Now come on, you’ll have to make a statement and fill out a report.” El nodded, and they made for the warden’s office together. Unfortunately, the pair needed to pass through the corridor in which the session had been held. It seemed that Zsasz had put up quite a fight; he had only then been successfully subdued and was being escorted back to his cell surrounded by guards (several of whom looked worse for wear) with three pairs of cuffs securing his wrists. A small crowd had gathered in the hall of people curious about the disturbance, forcing Elianna and Jonathan to stop as the twisted parade passed.

Zsasz caught sight of Elianna as he was marched through and grinned at her, forever unblinking. “Leave your door unlocked for me.” He taunted, earning a hard shove from the guard nearest to him. Jonathan stared the criminal down and put his arm around El’s shoulders protectively, pushing through the crowd and pulling her back into motion.

“You’re not going home.” His tone of voice left no room for protest.

“Fine, but I need to get some things first.”

“Then we’ll take tomorrow off and buy you whatever you need, but you can’t go back to your apartment for a while.”

“Jesus, fine,” El said exasperatedly. “When did you get so protective anyway? You’ve never been like this before.”

“When the only person I give a damn about was almost killed in front of me for the second time, now stop arguing and just keep walking.” Despite her displeasure of being chastised, El smiled to herself. She had gotten him to admit it openly when she wasn’t even trying. That in itself registered as a small victory in her mind.

Without another word, she did her best to match her pace to his much longer legs, clinging to his forearm in an attempt not to fall behind.

“Welcome to Gotham,” she muttered to herself and shook her head at the ridiculousness of it all. Gotham badly needed saving from itself; that much was clear to her. Only one question remained: who was going to do it?

.xXx.

Despite Jonathan’s insistence that she was to drive straight to his apartment when they left work, Elianna made an executive decision to go and get what she needed from her place first; she couldn’t let Jonathan buy her all new things when she could just get what she needed in ten minutes. She was sure that Zsasz would be heavily guarded that night, and she would call Jonathan while she packed to justify her actions.

“Jonathan? Don’t be angry; I’m just packing a few things, I promise I’ll be in and out.” There was an angry sigh in her receiver as she unlocked the door.

“Check every room first.” He instructed, knowing that he couldn’t convince his friend to get right back in her car.

“Yes, boss,” she replied sarcastically but did so anyway, thoroughly checking every nook and cranny. “All clear, everything is fine.”

“Stay on the phone while you pack, put me on speaker.”

They stayed on the phone, and in just a few minutes, she had everything she needed to stay with Jonathan for a week and was locking her front door as she left. See, love? Everything is fine.

“I’m on my way to the car now. I’ll be there soon.” She assured Jonathan. Satisfied that everything had gone smoothly with no further need of his supervision, he wished her a safe drive there before they hung up.

Once outside, she held her pepper spray firmly in one hand and her car keys in the other. It was dark out now, and even in the chaos of Gotham, the darkness drew out more crazies than the daytime. Once her keys were securely in her right hand, she returned her attention forward, and what she saw made her blood run cold.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she breathed to herself and ducked behind a car. What she had seen was the distinct and unmistakable figure of Victor Zsasz turning from the sidewalk and into the parking lot, moving directly toward her building. A hundred questions hurtled through her brain: How had he escaped so quickly? Was his escape route in his cell somehow? How could he have gotten away from Arkham without being spotted? How had he learned where she lived? How many people were helping him on the inside, and who were they?

It was too late for her to do anything about it now, but God help her, she would track down whoever was responsible for this monumental screw up first thing in the morning, and she would make them sorry. But first, she needed to focus on avoiding the unthinkable.

Swallowing hard, she did her best to shove down her terror and quiet her breathing as she peeked up through the windows of the car she had hidden behind to track Zsasz’s progress. Her heart was beating so loudly in her ears, and for some reason, all she could think of was that goddamned Poe story. At that moment, she abandoned her atheism and begged desperately to God or anyone listening that he couldn’t hear the wet thumping of her heart over the echoing sound of his careless footsteps.

Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! —no, no! They heard!—They suspected!—They knew! Again! Hark! Louder!

Louder!

Louder!

Louder!

As the solitary figure steadily approached the alligator green sedan that Elianna had found herself crouched behind, she slowly crept around toward the front of the car opposite him so as not to be seen. He passed the rear bumper close enough that she could hear him humming contentedly and breathing in the “fresh” Gotham air as though he were on a simple, pleasant stroll, and not on his way to construct his most recent gruesome crime scene.

I should have listened to Jonathan.

When El finally made it to the opposite side of the car, and Zsasz seemed a safe enough distance away, her heart leaped at the thought that she was in the clear—freedom! Safety!—and she was just standing up to break for her car, only a little further down the row, when her bag—my fucking duffle bag!—swung off of her shoulder and down her arm, swinging hard into that ghastly green car.

In slow motion, she watched the contact, unable to move to stop it, and jumped as the car alarm went off. Her head snapped back up just in time to see Zsasz spin around to observe the sudden disturbance. The fear rolling off of El was palpable as she watched in real-time Victor’s recognition of her face, his target, his victim, his newest zombie. His bald head turned almost skeletal as his grin built slowly, steadily transforming into the most horrifying thing that Elianna had ever seen.

“Doctor Montgomery! Is this a bad time?” He had already begun strolling toward her, to which El began walking backward shakily. “I’d like very much to discuss my philosophy with you.” The gash on her arm was throbbing, a reminder that she hadn’t escaped her last encounter with Zsasz unscathed. And here she had no guards.

“You see, since you obviously didn’t meet your death in that dismal room,” here he paused to laugh, “the universe is off balance!” He declared grandiosely, spreading his arms wide and tipping his head back as he continued. “How can things function properly if I allow a zombie to escape her fate?” His words filled El with heavy dread, rendering her muscles useless as he came closer and closer despite the screaming need to move, to do something!

She couldn’t help taking a mental picture of the moment as he continued steadily toward her. The tableau was almost cinematic: the dingy, yellow street lamp between them hummed loudly as it strained to stay on, and the resulting shadows were starkly black against the pavement, so sharp it was as though they had been stenciled on the ground; to say nothing of the man—the beast—that came toward her, almost Lovecraftian.

Thin, and stretched up tall compared to her small frame, the skin stretched tight against the sharp bones of the face beneath it, the bald head and teeth prominently displayed in a deranged grin reflecting the sickly yellow light, reminding El of how horribly insane the creature approaching her really was. Not to mention the scars—oh God, the scars!

The slim, raised tallies that marred his skin seemed ironically countless, and they almost glowed in the light of the bright moon and the stale light from the street lamp, and those eyes just continued to stare, as unblinking as ever.

Elianna processed all of this at once and was suddenly struck with the realization that if she didn’t act right then, she would be reduced to nothing but another of those haunting, alien marks; a trophy.

The thought hit her hard enough to release her from her stupor—just in time!—and raise her arm, releasing a stream of pepper spray into what was hopefully the direction of those too-big eyes as she turned on her heel and sprinted as fast as she could toward her car.

The wild laughter from behind her told her instantly that she had fully missed her target, and she pushed herself faster. Something struck her in the back of the knee, and she didn’t have time to wonder what it was as her head hit the ground hard, her hands scraping against the asphalt when she was sent sprawling. She groaned at the burning in her forehead, and something warm dripped down her face. If I can just get to my car, was her only thought as the pumping adrenaline took over, compelling her to start to her feet.

A cold hand wrapped around her ankle, and without thinking, she kicked out hard with her other foot. Something that felt like a nose cracked under her heel, accompanied by a sharp grunt of pain and the hand loosened, so she struck again, earning her a cry of agony and a free leg. Elianna scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could, not bothering to look behind at the damage she had dealt, focusing all of her energy on stumbling to her car. Get to Jonathan’s now.

Suddenly, a large, black mass swooped over her head, followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground hard and another cry of pain from Zsasz. El risked a glance behind to see a figure shrouded in black yanking Zsasz to his feet, and that was good enough for her. She finally fumbled her way into her car. She didn’t know who the hell that was, and she didn’t care to know. She peeled out of the parking lot, wiping at the blood dripping into her eye.

She checked her reflection in the visor mirror at a stoplight to assess the damage. As was to be expected, she was bleeding profusely where her head had connected with the asphalt. She tried not to worry too much; head wounds always bleed more than seems necessary. Even so, looking at her reflection made her lightheaded, the sight of asphalt sticking in her skin, and her hair matted with blood. She slammed the visor shut, and when the light turned green, she drove as quickly as she could to Jonathan’s apartment.

I almost died twice today.

As soon as she parked, Elianna snatched up her bag from the passenger seat, and for reasons that she didn’t quite understand, locked the car eight times before running into the building and then the elevator as fast as she could. Once inside, she pressed the button for her desired floor and then jammed the 'close door’ button frantically, bouncing anxiously as it made its slow ascent—can’t they make these things any faster?

As soon as the doors opened enough for her to slip through, she sprinted down the hallway, miraculously keeping from tumbling over on the way. She needed to get to Jonathan’s door now, every second that passed inciting more paranoia of some fresh horror presenting itself.

By the time she made it to the right door (a ten second run from the elevator), there were tears in her eyes, and she knocked frantically, needing for him to open the door right this damn second, Jonathan Crane!

Luckily, he seems to respond to the urgent knocking and flings open the door in seconds, the confusion written on his face quickly replaced by shock as he ushered her inside.

“Elianna, what the hell happened?”

“You were right,” she breathed, shutting the door quickly behind her and locking it. “You were right. I-if I hadn’t been on the way t-to the car already….” A tear slipped out of her eye and down her cheek as she finally began to process that had happened.

“Okay, okay, come on,” Jonathan took her bag and her purse from her and set them on the floor. “Bathroom, come with me.” He led his still trembling friend into the bathroom and helped her onto the countertop to get a better look at her head, his brow furrowing in concern.

“Just don’t let me die, okay?” Elianna hadn’t even meant to speak, and nearly didn’t recognize the meek voice as her own.

“Not a chance, just hold still,” he replied as gently as he could, using a sterilized wipe from the first aid kit beneath his sink to carefully brush out the bits of asphalt from her bloodied flesh. Her eyes closed in pain when he moved on to cleaning off the mostly dried blood. “Okay, it isn’t as big as it looks,” he reassured her when he could finally see clearly; he was able to cover the source of the bleeding with a large bandaid. “There, you’re okay.” He concluded the treatment by gently dabbing antibacterial goop onto the divots left by the asphalt down her cheek.

She dropped her freshly clean forehead onto his shoulder when he finished. The light was so bright, and unsurprisingly, her head was killing her. Oh my god, if I had hit much harder, it might have.

“El?” He asked, resting his hand on the back of her head, worried that she had fallen unconscious.

“Lights.” Quickly catching on, he helped her off the counter and guided her back into the living room. She laid on the couch with her eyes shut tight as he went back into the bathroom and proceeded to make far more noise rattling about in the medicine cabinet than seemed necessary.

“You can have Tylenol.” She opened her eyes and sat up to look at the two little pills offered to her in his palm.

“Tylenol? Are you f-” El cut her off and forced a deep breath, taking the medicine from him. “It’s better than nothing. Thank you.” She didn’t even wait for water before she took them.

Jonathan sat on the couch by her head and guided her back into a horizontal position, guiding her head gently onto his lap, knowing that she found the intimacy comforting (regardless of his lack of understanding for it), while she closed her eyes again.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“I know.”

After a minute, he turned on the television with the volume low and began to run his fingers through her hair absentmindedly. Eventually, her curiosity got the better of her, and El risked a look at the screen just in time to see Zsasz’s mugshot on the news.  The sight made her nauseous, and she squeezed her eyes shut again.

Almost immediately, she began to sweat. Her anxiety quickly rocketed almost out of control, and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe as her chest tightened painfully. “C-can you feel yourself going into shock?” She asked meekly. She had meant it to come off as a joke, but unable to achieve that goal, she realized that it was a genuine concern.

“Deep breaths,” Jonathan replied calmly. “Put your feet on the armrest; you need to elevate your legs.” She did so without arguing, doing her best to keep her breathing deep and steady. “You know, you should consider yourself lucky, El.”

The statement hit her hard enough to make her forget her anxiety immediately, and she took a long, shaky breath before sitting up, swinging her feet to the floor so that she was sitting next to him properly.

“How. Could this possibly. Be lucky?” She asked slowly, doing her best to remain calm. “I have been attacked, threatened, slashed, bandaged, stalked, and practically bled out all today.” She had started slowly but found herself steadily speaking faster and louder. “I think most people-no actually, everyone on Earth would not consider that lucky, except for you. So why the hell are you smiling right now, Jonathan Crane? Do you think this is funny? I could have died tonight!”

“Of course, I don’t think it’s funny that you were attacked again. I just forgot how entertaining it is when you get angry.” For a moment, El stared at Jonathan, baffled by what he was saying, before hitting him with a throw pillow, to which he looked almost offended.

“It’s not entertaining, you bastard. Not now, in this circumstance!” She swung the pillow at him again, and he jumped up, ducking out of the way when she threw it at him instead.

“No, El, look,” he raised his hands in surrender, doing his best to backtrack and catching the next pillow that was flung at him. “You managed to escape Zsasz twice. Both times, on sheer dumb luck. Before today his mortality rate was 100%, so yes, that’s what I call lucky-don’t you dare throw that at me.”

El froze her with her arm up, ready to hurl another pillow at his face. As much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. She reluctantly dropped the pillow back onto the couch, and he relaxed.

“Fine. But you’re making dinner all week, and tomorrow you’re going to find out who let him escape so that I can shatter their kneecaps. What?” She asked in response to the puzzled look on his face.

“Weren’t you going into shock a minute ago? How are you fine right now?” He put the back of his hand on her forehead as though to check her temperature, to which she rolled her eyes and swatted his hand away.

“Through denial, all things are possible, love.” She paused for a beat before adding, “if I say that out loud, do I stop being in denial?” More to herself than to him. Another pause and then, “can we have pancakes for dinner?”

Jonathan stared down at his friend, a little impressed by her sudden resolve, before conceding and walking toward the kitchen.

“As long as you make that hot chocolate that I like.”

[lynnsfics]

Coffee Stained Confusion Ch 12

<Last Chapter                             First Chapter                            Next Chapter> 

~~~

When you finally emerged from the basement, the tower was in chaos. The whole building was in lockdown and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were in a frenzy. Tony greeted you both at the stairs. 

“Well, glad to see you both well after that little, what would PR call it? ‘Elevator incident.’ I suppose Barnes will need to see a medic, but hotshot we need you upstairs. The rest of the team is meeting to discuss what happened. I know you aren’t sure if you’re joining yet, but they need a briefing on Alicia. Tell them everything you know.” He turned to walk away but paused, “And tell Rogers to dig up any old HYDRA files we have. After what happened here, we’ll need them,” 

Bucky turned to you, “The meeting room is three floors up. I can show you the way there, if you want.”

“I think I’ll be able to find my way, besides you need to wait here for the medic.”

“Alright then,” he smirked, “I’ll see later, phoenix.”

Making your way upstairs you started to regret your decision of refusing Bucky’s escort. You were about to meet the Avengers, by yourself nonetheless, and you looked like you’d been through hell. To be fair, you basically had, but they didn’t need to know that. 

Heart pounding you stepped into the conference room. You saw Sam and instantly felt a little bit better. At least you weren’t completely alone. The team sat at a table, debating something heatedly. The moment you walked in, however, they all stopped and turned to you. 

“Uh, hi.” Just great, your mind decided to skip town at the worst possible moment. “I’m Y/N, Tony told me to come here and brief you guys on Alicia.”

Thor smiled encouragingly, “Yes, her escape has us all baffled.”

“We believe that HYDRA got their hands on a blueprint of the tower before their infiltration was discovered.” Steve chimed in.

“Although Tony is constantly modifying things,” Rhodey countered, “which means we may still have some moles.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Or boys, the most likely option of all. They hacked into our servers and turned off the power, giving some of their agents time to sneak in, break Alicia out, and cut a few elevator cables too.” 

“Now I may not be an expert on Midgardian technology, but I thought Stark’s computers were fully secured?” Thor questioned.

Steve responded, “They should be, but HYDRA has some tech specialists. One of their scientists had his entire consciousness uploaded onto a computer database.”

“You should have seen it,” chuckled Natahsa, “extremely creepy.”

“So we’re just going to assume that since they can make a guy into a robot that they can get past Stark’s firewall?” Rhodey scoffed.

Soon they began arguing again, which seemed to go on for ages. Your mind reeled trying to keep up with the conversation. Finally Bruce Banner cut in, “Well, Y/N is here, maybe she can inform us on what Alicia is most likely to do.”

Sam nodded at you. You could do this. “Well, with me, she played more of the long game. She pretended to be my best friend all throughout college. So, for almost six years now. Uh, we were majoring in law so it was supposed to be eight years instead of the regular four. But HYDRA wasn’t very secretive about the murder of former double agents. They used very obvious poisons, ones that were just discussed in the biology course Alicia and I take. Well, used to take, I guess.”

“I don’t understand.” Wanda said, “Why would they use something so obvious? Isn’t flying under the radar like their whole thing?” “We aren’t sure yet, but I’ve been thinking about it and it may be a way of them taunting S.H.I.E.LD. If I learned one thing, it’s that Alicia loves a spectacle.”

Bucky walked into the room, his ribs bandaged and some fresh stitches on his forehead, but looking much better than before. “Well if she wants a spectacle,” he said, “why don’t we give it to her.”

“I know you probably just got concussed,” Sam said, “but what the hell are you talking about dude?”

“In the infirmary I spoke with an agent who was knocked out by some HYDRA thugs. He said one of them he had seen around for a week or so. But the other two he had never seen before. They probably had a few moles in here to learn how to hack into the power supply and then sneak in some more when the power was out.” “But how would they know that Alicia would be captured?” Natasha questioned.

“They didn’t.” Bucky replied, “That threw a wrench in their plans.” He stepped next to you, “So did Y/N here, which is why they tried to dispose of us both with the elevator stunt. That didn’t work so well though, considering we’re both still here.”

“So what do you suggest we do?” Steve asked.

“The agent gave me a location, where they might be taking her. S.H.I.E.L.D has apparently been scoping the place out?”

“How do we know that this is legitimate information?” Tony asked, entering the room.

“Well we don’t, not yet. But we can reconfirm with Fury.” “Sure, I’ll give him a ring. He just loves my calls.” Tony said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“Considering you skipped the meeting Tony,” Steve glared, “you can do this one thing. Unless, of course, you want to be searching for her for another few months, and let more good agents get  killed. No? Then I strongly suggest you give Fury a call.” Steve stood up and glanced at you, “Speaking of, Y/N here knows some more about the murders, so you may want to look over her uh, biology notes. They may contain the next poison to be used.” With that, he left the room.

You glanced awkwardly around the room, waiting for someone to speak next. When no one did, you cleared your throat and said, “I have the notes in my bag, if they’d be helpful.” 

“They should be in your room, we can go get them now.” Bucky said reassuringly.

The two of you exited the conference room, and you felt a sigh of relief wash over you. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel safe around the Avengers, you did, but you were terrified of saying the wrong thing and making a fool of yourself.

“That went well,” Bucky said, but you weren’t entirely convinced. “No, really, they actually listened to what you had to say. It took them awhile before they truly paid attention to what I told them.”

“Thank you, and thank you for getting me out of there.”

“Well, to be fair, we do need to get those notes, and you looked like you needed a breath of fresh air.” 

You nodded. “I did, to be honest. It’s a lot of pressure. But,” you paused, and glanced down, “that won’t stop me from joining. After all of this, I don’t think that a future in law is for me. Going back to college isn’t a possibility. I think my future is here.” Bucky broke into a grin, “I’m glad. We need you here.” Under his breath, he muttered something, but you couldn’t quite make it out. 

“What was that last part?”

“Oh nothing, just, uh, thinking. Only one more flight of stairs and we’ll be there.” Was that a slight blush on his cheeks or was it just your imagination?

Finally, you made it to a door with a security scanner next to it. Bucky cursed, “My security card was damaged in the fall. Let’s try getting in a different way. FRIDAY, requesting access?” FRIDAY responded, “Access granted. The package for Miss Y/N has been delivered to her room.” “A package?” 

Bucky glanced down, “It’s probably just your books. They had to be collected from the apartment, so they must have arrived late.” The door swung open to reveal a series of rooms, mainly in a monochromatic theme. Little bursts of color appeared throughout in the form of paintings. 

Walking up to one, you saw the artist’s signature and gasped. “Bucky you painted this? It’s beautiful.” 

He smiled shyly, “After leaving HYDRA, and having done nothing but cause pain, I wanted to be able to do something good. So I took up painting. Growing up, Steve was always the artist, I never really thought I’d be good at it,” he chuckled, “apparently I have a bit of a knack for it. Your room is down that hall there if you want to grab your notes. I’m going to get changed into some fresh clothes, but let me know if you need anything. 

You walked down the hall and saw an open door, sitting on the bed in the room were your notebooks in a neat pile. Next to them was a package wrapped neatly in plain wrapping paper. Written on it was a note, “Phoenix, just in case you decide to join the team. ~From, Bucky”. Gently unwrapping the package, you found a suit inside, with orange-red flames in spirals across it. It was beautiful. A knock came at the door. “I hope you like it. I didn’t want to assume anything about you joining, but after what you said about the tattoo I thought, well anyways. I talked with Tony before stopping by the meeting and asked him to have it made for you. If you don’t like it you could get another one-” You cut him off, “No, it’s absolutely perfect, I love it! Thank you.” You walked over to him and wrapped him in a hug. He froze for a moment before returning the gesture. 

“I can take the notes down to them, if you want. There’s a TV in the main living room, and the coffee machine is on the counter in the kitchen. You should be able to relax a little.”

You smiled, “That sounds great, thank you.” As soon as he left with the notes you sat down on the couch and turned on the television. Brooklyn-99 was already on and you smiled, the familiar show bringing you some comfort. A few episodes in, it started getting dark out and you began to doze off.

It wasn’t long after that your dreams turned dark and you woke up screaming.

~~~

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[the-gemini-cores]

Penance, 2

Direct continuation of this. Word count of this sequel is about 4.4k (the first part was 1.3k), which is partly due to actual dialogue and Chell’s head being a lot clearer than dear Wheatley’s.

Along with what I intend to be apocalypse Chelley feels there’s a bit of swearing, though I imagine if you’re on this site then that isn’t too much of a problem :)

~~

Her running steps fell on deaf ears –  

“WHEATLEY!“  

– and the knife came down.  

Two inches to the left.  

She spent a moment regaining her balance and then started wrestling the hilt from his fingers. Despite the awkward angle – and the steel’s partial embedment into wood – it gave with little opposition and was hurled somewhere into the far corner of the room.

A few sharp clangs sounded as blade hit stone, but neither person flinched. The air was too frenzied for her to pay any mind. Adrenaline coursed through her fibers. The immediate threat was gone, though. She vaguely noticed her peripheral vision returning.  

Chell faced the wielder.  

With him sitting and her standing they were nearly eye-level. She cast a shadow over the length of his body, only the top half of his head illuminated as it stared at her in quiet astonishment – like he was a child, and the thing she’d just ripped away was his most innocuous toy. 

His irises held no sign of intent or fear. More than anything, he simply looked confused. Almost startled. He gazed at her unfocusedly, a frown punctuating his lips.  

It made her furious.  

Chell tried grabbing him by both shoulders before a ghostlike sensation reminded her this was newly impossible. She remedied her mistake, gripping him by the throat and pinning him to the chair’s back with the side of her forearm against his chest. He jerked a bit with the sudden motion. As his head settled, Chell forced him to see her, taking up most of his sightline.  

She had risked her life for him. She’d done that – she’d lost her damn arm to keep him intact, and he had the nerve, the near spite, to try … to erase – to waste – her efforts. Even if not all of it, a good enough amount to piss Chell off. As if it was oh-so-simple for him to shed a part of himself, to lose so much of his autonomy, his competence, his strength, in just the span of a second.

To do what she did.  

It’d been slow-going. The last couple of weeks were inconvenient, to say the least. Demanding, no question, but Chell had managed. She’d had to, there was no way around it, no way to undo what had happened. The medics could bandage her and prevent infection, but they couldn’t repair her. They couldn’t give her back what she’d lost.

It didn’t matter. 

Chell remembered the attack. It was as fresh as if it’d been that morning, and given how monotonous time had been as of late, it very well could have been. One singular stretch, lasting for what felt like forever. She hadn’t seen sunlight since. The only thing confirming the separation of days was the leisurely recovery of her stump, marking time as it eventually stopped bleeding out.  

She recalled the noise up there. She could still hear the yelling and shooting, trajectories concealed through fire and smoke. Billowing clouds had closed them in from the world. It’d felt like an oven, the door shut in on them as the walls grew hotter and hotter.

Chell could smell something like ash, even now if she tried. She could taste the whirlwind of hysteria – and she could hear the whistling. Not from wind. There hadn’t been any wind.  

But the critical point in her recollection, the thing that stood out to her like a crystal in rock, the clearest and most colored portion of this memory, was him. Standing, in the grass, his noises unintelligible but discernibly frantic. He’d been scanning the area – for her, possibly. Probably. 

And he was right in the way of it.     

Chell could never know what would’ve happened if she’d not made her decision then. If instead she’d stalled, or run a different route, or merely called out. She didn’t know whether he would’ve ended up like her or gone off worse – the latter, given where he was. Extent was debatable, and she was neither expert nor seer but if she were to make a guess, which she wouldn’t, she didn’t think there’d have been much left to salvage. 

But that was precisely it. In her mind, the details of his fate ultimately didn’t matter. She’d managed to prevent it.  

She’d made a sacrifice. She’d gone in totally blind, having hardly weighed the situation, but she’d done it. She’d done it – so that Wheatley wouldn’t have to suffer.  

He was here. Sitting in front of her, whole and living. Breathing. Looking at her. 

Shamelessly believing he had the right to suffer anyhow.  

That it somehow wouldn’t make things worse.   

Her teeth clenched harder.  

Wheatley squirmed, his blank, innocent disposition rightfully dropping, but a simple change in visage wouldn’t cut it. He hadn’t said a word this entire time. Physically, nothing was stopping him – his windpipe was allowed plenty of room under her fingers.   

Chell held him carefully but without slack. In that quiet space, deep underground, nothing was relevant except him. What the hell he’d been doing, what sort of warped rationalization could have led him to attempt this. For it to even emerge in his brain and be deemed a feasible option seemed an otherworldly case. 

She wanted his acknowledgment of a mistake. She needed his recognition that delimbing himself as a way to cope – it never could have ended well, or even left things as they were. Chell didn’t want a simple apology as a means of placating her, but assurance that he could handle himself. Quite obviously, from what she’d just witnessed, opening the door to see him sitting there with a blade over his arm…

Chell almost shuddered. That image had shaken her, but it also made her fiercely intent on getting to the bottom of things. 

She wouldn’t chance Wheatley trying something drastic again, as he’d maybe not get so lucky next time. He wasn’t thinking. Even now, fidgeting and swallowing against her hand, Chell’s face impossible to miss, he seemed faraway.   

That wouldn’t do.  

Chell steadied her breath, bracing herself.

“What did you think it would accomplish?” she asked.  

Questions – Wheatley couldn’t resist. Commentary was always offered, or perhaps his presumptions in what he thought might possibly be correct. She didn’t expect the trademark quick response this time, but perhaps some sort of signal that he’d registered. A perk in his brow, a clarity in his gaze – a spillage of quips maybe, coaxed by a question and the implication that she wanted to hear him. Or, in this scenario, that she’d hear him out. 

But he gave absolutely nothing. Her voice, ballistic upon entering the air, lingered and then dropped, unsupported in the half-meter between them. Wheatley was unmoving on his end. He didn’t do anything to show that he’d heard, much less bother to speak, though his mouth hung agape. His eyes were wide. 

As she took note of his countenance, Chell felt herself slipping, just for an instant. The lack of reaction was atypical. More unnerving than she would’ve cared to admit.  

Chell willed herself to cool down, if only briefly. She knew her demeanor was less than friendly – she didn’t owe it to him. But for what she wanted, she might’ve come off too strong. Chell unsharpened her words, though she didn’t loosen the hold on his neck. 

“Answer me."  

And she waited, as patiently as her sanity would allow as she ignored the way her heart hammered. But Chell quickly came to realize that the command didn’t get through to him.    

She remained where she was, trying to echo the words through her gaze, but seconds ticked by as silence festered like poison. They wouldn’t end, one after the next, slowly and steadily growing louder until they were downright ringing in her ears. For much, much too long, she bore it. Chell was almost convinced the sounds weren’t imaginary.

The stretch was taunting, as was he – Chell stopped minding her own expression. Her only anchor was the throat she currently clutched with her surviving hand, but even that seemed to be failing her. Its attached head was looking, still looking at her, with unease, like those blue orbs couldn’t understand what was happening and just gave up. Turned off.

He’d turned off.  

Chell wouldn’t take it anymore.   

She changed her grip, fisting the front of his shirt, and pulled. "TALK!"  

Chell practically screamed the word in his face – she’d had to, if she wanted to break the quiet – and its sheer volume in such emptiness nearly made her choke. Wheatley appeared to hate it even more than she. There was a grimace at the way her voice caught, but screw his discomfort – it did the trick.

He’d winced, and then, his eyes saw her. Finally. After a few lasting pauses, Chell partly expected nothing more would happen, but then – God, that was better – the floodgates began shuddering open.  

"W-w-what did I think – it would accomplish?”

In response to his long-awaited speech, she held firm.

“Well, it…” He blinked several times. In a flash, Wheatley reached back to grip the arms of his chair. He met her with alarm now, adopting a higher octave. “It wouldn’t fix things, that’s – that’s for certain, it, it wouldn’t get y– … your arm back, firstly, which isn’t ideal as, that’d definitely be the optimal case in helping matters. And – and you know if I could, if I could hit some kind of rewind button and put things back, I’d do that. Immediately. No questions asked, no need to stop and think about it. I’d absolutely do anything I could, any viable options I’d go for. ‘Cause, ‘cause if it worked – oh man alive, it’d be a miracle! But … but I can’t do that. It’d solve most of everything but … no miracles here. Except – except, of course, that you’re still alive! That is a miracle, that’s – tremendous, better than … the greatest possible outcome. Except for, uh, being alive and also … coming out in one piece.” 

His notes had fluctuated the whole way through. Wheatley went from rushed to careful, certain to meek. That last part ended on a whisper. He’d attempted to sound matter-of-fact, she could tell, but Chell heard his vocals shake, barely concealed behind their natural fluidity. His irises weren’t doing much better in trying to seem calm – Wheatley peered into her own as if they were the barrels of a loaded gun. 

But then abruptly, his voice picked up again.  

"We – we can’t go back and change things … like you’ve said! Very much remember that. On the, multiple occasions you’ve expressed your … adamance, on the matter. And I agree, there is – that is true, there’s very little that can be done to affect things that have already happened. Sealed in time. But…” 

He stopped, lost. Uncomforted, Wheatley glanced down to her hand after a few moments. 

Chell watched as Wheatley’s brow gradually knotted. When he turned back to her, she was on the verge of letting go. His lids had narrowed. He looked her dead in the eye. He spoke with deliberation. 

“… I have to do something. I can’t try and ignore what’s happened. Not like how you’re doing. Going about, not saying anythin’, treating things like nothing major’s occurred, shutting me up whenever I try and broach the subject. ‘Oh, no, there’s nothing wrong, what the hell are you insinuating?’ Any differences you notice are as trivial as an aching shoulder. You brush it off like it’s a bloody fly in your ear, like there’s no issue at all.”  

Seamlessly, he sat up straighter, and her fist – still grasping the front of his shirt – followed. He leaned closer, searching her expression.  

“But that’s just on the surface, isn’t it? A front?”  

He waited, as if expecting some sort of reaction, some hole in her visage. Something revealing. But Chell wouldn’t give him the satisfaction – who was he to be interrogating her? After the shit he just tried to pull? He’d taken on a different tone, and hell, she did not appreciate it.  

Wheatley went on. “You’re different. You’ve, lost something. More than your arm, I mean – which is enough as it is. But, something else … I’ve noticed. It was important. It was – well, can’t really put a word to it, but it was important. You sort of carried it around and, it made you who –” He faltered. Perhaps she’d glared harder. 

Wheatley struggled to collect himself for a moment, but once he did, the accusation was totally gone from his words, and he sounded more pleading. 

“And – and I don’t mean – you are getting along. Sort of. I – look, the point is, I can’t…read you anymore. I never know what you’re thinking, or how you’re feeling – or, or if you are feeling. Or what it is that you might want or need. I, suppose the only impression I am getting off of you would be your … well, resentment. A lot of that. Emanating off you. Along with – and I know you don’t like hearing this – pain…And walls. Bloody great big walls that you won’t let anyone through. Just put up recently. Blocking me out. Very noticeable.”  

Again, Wheatley stopped. Watched her for some seconds. Chell continued to be still.

“I … I don’t suppose you might know what I’m talking about? ‘Cause, you’re not really being very responsive. To any of this. Apart from, glaring. Like how you’ve been doing. For the past … I don’t really remember how long it’s been, actually.” He attempted a laugh, but it came out more like a cough. 

Chell observed his back slump. Wheatley’s pupils darted to the wall – he was clearly becoming nervous. He tried again, voice roughly cracking over a swallow. “You know I’ve just felt … a bit useless lately … kind of left in the dark … and all…”

“…”

“… God dammit would you PLEASE JUST GIVE ME A SIGN?!” 

Chell nearly jumped. She stepped away, hand releasing the fabric and moving back a few inches on its own. She brought it to her side, fist still clenched. 

He hadn’t been facing her when he shouted. His irises remained on the wall. Immediately, Wheatley froze.

The seconds were ticking by again, and he still didn’t turn to her. His face was discolored in horror. In her scrutiny, Chell forgot to check her expression. 

He was talking again. “I – I’m sorry I, I shouldn’t’ve…” 

A hiccup left his mouth. He was looking incredibly anguished, breath starting to staccato. 

Wheatley tilted his head to the floor and met his hands with his cheeks. Hurriedly, he rubbed at his temples with knobby fingers, but they soon halted. They wouldn’t take back that outburst. 

Without warning, his shoulders gave a harsh shake. She couldn’t see his face, but his digits moved under his glasses. 

He sniffled. 

The only noise in that dark, throbbing room.

Chell never took her eyes off him.  

She was waiting, she supposed. Truthfully, Chell wasn’t certain of how she wanted to proceed. She wasn’t going to leave – she could take with her the knife that was resting in its corner, but who knew what he’d do if left alone. No, she wouldn’t leave – but neither could she bring herself to disturb him. It’d be like tampering with something that had been a long time coming, intervening in the placement of a much-needed piece. She didn’t want to shorten or prolong it, draw attention to herself or disappear entirely. So she hung back, listening as his gasps morphed into barely-repressed weeping, and she waited.   

It wasn’t very long before he moved his face up again. That single light in the room highlighted wet streaks around his eyes, which Wheatley didn’t bother to dry. He looked at her, yet he seemed just about ready to break down again. 

As their gazes locked, Chell noticed the lack of tension she felt in her own face. The muscles had relaxed. She didn’t bother adjusting them now – Chell doubted she could take on an expression of severity, and anyway, the thought of doing so at the moment felt repulsive.   

Wheatley opened his mouth, visibly distraught. “Chell.” That hurt. “Chell p-please, I want to help you. Believe me. More than anything I want to help you. I know I’m being pathetic but, but all I want is to make things better for you. Or as b-better as they can be, but I can’t. Not –” he caught his breath, “not so long as you refuse to give anything away.” 

Chell was finding it more and more difficult to stay focused. Her goal had been plain at the start of this, but now she could hardly keep her mind on the bigger picture. As he panted, she found herself considering his words.

Chell would never call the aftermath of the explosion “nothing.” It hadn’t been. It still wasn’t. But she was managing. She was handling it. She was fine. She had to be, as there was no time for otherwise. She couldn’t afford to be mulling over it – no one could afford her to be mulling over it. 

Wheatley apparently disagreed with that notion. 

Chell left the gruffness out of her voice. “And you thought cutting off your arm would be the solution?” 

He blinked. It was like, for a moment, he’d forgotten about that, or maybe he wasn’t expecting to hear her speak. “Well … well I don’t know! You won’t talk to me, I can’t tell what’s going on in your head anymore, and you won’t acknowledge that you’re hurting ‘cause you’re too proud to admit it. Even now.”  

Chell could see how drained Wheatley was. He appeared to shrink, curling over and shifting away. His pupils went elsewhere again, dull and exhausted. An exhale.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. “You – you hate me.”  

Chell was surprised. “I don’t hate you,” she pressed.

He didn’t seem to hear her. His eyes were watering. “I just – I just want things to be okay. Please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen…”  

Before she could determine what to do, Wheatley faced her, fatigued and aged. But that broken cadence carried on in earnest.  

"I know you. And – and I know you’re hurting. But…you won’t let me in. I can’t get through to you. I can’t help you.”  

His sightline dragged to rest on her bandaged stump.  

“I did this to you,” he whimpered.   

Something cold clawed at Chell’s chest.

“No. You didn’t, Wheatley.”  

“I did this.”  

“Stop. I made a choice, and –”  

“But you shouldn’t’ve had to make it! And I know you say that, you’ve made it perfectly clear you’re of the opinion that once you make a choice, you stick to it. But as you’ve probably noticed, I have a hard time accepting that choice when it means you have to lose your fucking arm on my account!”  

Wheatley wiped his tears. His breath was shaky. “I wish … I almost wish you’d let me get bl–”

“Don’t. You. Dare.”

He removed his hands from his cheeks. “… I’m sorry, I know that’s selfish.” 

Chell nearly gave him the affirmative before stopping herself. 

On the one hand, it was selfish. It was implicitly telling her that he didn’t fully appreciate what she’d done, that he’d rather think about what could have happened instead of what did happen, that Wheatley couldn’t find it in himself to let go of that for her sake now, when she was still dealing with the consequences and had to relearn the most basic practices. 

But on the other hand, she thought wryly, Wheatley was hurt. He was hurt, much more than she would’ve thought, and he was hurting on her behalf. He felt guilty, like he was the one who’d forsaken her. 

He interrupted her thought with a sigh. “I’m just … scared. I don’t know what’s going to happen, I don’t know what the next crisis is going to be, and this is going to change everything. I just thought … maybe it’d help … but, but in retrospect, it’s probably best to keep all the limbs we can, actually. The smartest thing to do. Got that right." 

When before she’d seen a man she cared about, throwing away a gift she’d given him, defying her, going behind her back, foolishly believing that his decision was going to do anything to help them…

Now she saw a man she cared about, and who she knew cared about her, and because of that he was willing to do anything if he thought it might alleviate some of their pain. 

Wheatley had absolutely miscalculated. He’d made a terrible misjudgement – and she was angry about it – but that was because times were hard, and he was hurt, and she needed to make sure he wasn’t hurting anymore. 

“I’m scared, too.”  

At once, Wheatley was reanimated, eyes bulging out of their sockets. It was a sight she would’ve laughed over had the situation been different.

“You … you what?”

“Hard to believe?”

“I just…You haven’t acted scared. I mean, even if you were, I wouldn’t expect you to act that way, but … you haven’t even seemed concerned. More like indifferent to the whole situation. And that’s what’s terrifying.”

For the first time since she’d entered that doorway, Chell glanced at the floor. 

“Maybe I’ve been trying to ignore it.”

Out of her peripherals, she saw Wheatley shift closer. “… Because … you want to move forward. Right, well, that is a very Chell thing. But, but in doing so, you know, you’re taking those feelings and shoving them into a box.”

“… Does it really make a difference?”

“It does to me.”

She peered up. Wheatley openly faced her, no more hunching back or twitching fingers. He was fully attentive, concern etched across every feature, but she recognized the relief in his brow. He was so glad to hear her talking. 

Perhaps she had been holding out on him.

“It’s affected you,” he said. “Sort of … closed you up. Made you undecipherable. And moody, too, if I’m honest.”

“My mood stressed you enough to do this?”

“I –” Wheatley looked perplexed. “… I wanted to know that you were alright. Seeing you like that, like you’d practically forgotten what had happened even with all the new strains put on you, and acting so different while shutting down the conversation…You’d taken it for me, and I couldn’t even do a proper job of helping you through it ‘cause you weren’t wanting to talk to me…I thought, I had to do something. Show you, maybe, how sorry I was, and hope that –”

“I didn’t realize I was hurting you,” said Chell.

She fought the urge to watch the floor again. What she said wasn’t entirely true.

Chell had noticed a change in Wheatley. His attempts at optimism had become infrequent and half-hearted, to the point where he turned full-on despondent. She’d figured it might’ve had to do with her behavior towards him, but didn’t think very much of it as she was recuperating.

She swallowed her compunction. “… I thought you’d dismiss it as me needing time to cope.”

“I…True, yes, that, uh, definitely would’ve been a possibility. And, sort of, I’m hoping, still is the case. Now that I know you’re not…Maybe in time, you’ll be more willing to talk to me about it. ‘Cause, honestly, up ‘til now, I was not getting the impression that we were on good terms. And I wouldn’t have blamed you for that! Given that you did save me.”

Wheatley quieted. “… I am so … so sorry. I – I know you’ve said I’m not to blame, but … I mean, maybe rationally you might think that, but there’s no way you don’t hold some anger towards me.”

Chell considered the man in front of her. She measured his confessions, thought of her own, weighed his actions and reactions and tone of voice.

“Wheatley.”

“… Yes?”

“You’re going to have to learn to stop feeling guilty.”

He was taken aback. “… I…”

“Please.”  

Wheatley opened his mouth as if he were going to object, but then shut it. He gave up, the tension leaving his body as he exhaled through his nose.

Rather than agreeing, he had his own request: “Please don’t ever save me again.”   

But Chell wouldn’t promise him that, and he knew it. She simply eyed him, tired, and without even acknowledging he’d spoken she smoothly stepped forward and wrapped her arm around his neck, settling her head over his shoulder.

Chell had never initiated a hug with one arm before, and it did feel rather awkward at first, but the feeling dissolved when she felt Wheatley place both of his around her back.  

He was gripping her tightly, encouraging her to sit with him, but she wouldn’t just yet. At this height she could still reach his ear. Chell turned to him and whispered as surely and comfortingly as she could, “I’m going to be okay.”  

He took a few moments.  

“Heh, I should be the one reassuring you. Strong as ever, you are. I just hope you know, what I was … doing. When you came in earlier – I really didn’t mean to seem like I didn’t care about what you did. Or, didn’t appreciate it. I am grateful. Really. In a … begrudging sort of way. I mean, it’s complicated, obviously. Bittersweet. So, so thank you for that. I owe you, I do – but, but what I’m getting at is, I’ll make sure it wasn’t for nothing. I’ll do everything I can so that you don’t regret it.”  

Chell had lowered herself onto his lap, nose buried in his chest. “I’m never going to regret it. I just need time … and you around.”

“Oh – well, I’ll be here! If you need anything at all. Probably be best, though, if you wouldn’t mind being more vocal about what you need, or the like. You know, at least until things are semi-normal again. Back in the swing of things, almost.”  

Chell leaned away to look up at his face – it was no longer in shadow. Wheatley was staring at her, stratosphere eyes bright with the idea that, indeed, it would finally be okay. Because she would be okay, even if things would be different, and that was what mattered to him. 

She felt like quirking a brow, but instead reached up as best she could to give him a quick peck on the lips. She’d missed that.

“Deal.”  

[hughiecampbelle]

Stuck In The Past (Jessica Jones Drabble)

Character/s: Jessica

Word Count: 939

Requested: @ca-lannister

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @hypsiacrobasiphobia @way-obsessed-5

A/N: I hope you like it love! I'm not the best with dialogue/quotes, so I'm hoping the rest of it makes up for it! Let me know what you guys think and if you want me to write more fic requests! Maybe I can make a word prompt list and make it a whole thing, maybe to celebrate the new changes of this blog? Anyways, I hope you like it love! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜

You created the distance. Thousands of miles wasn't enough. You wanted to lose yourself within the city, the people, the crowds, hoping they would lose you. No trace when there was so many footprints. A ghost, you hoped, untraceable. Escape, run, a need for space, to heal. It didn't matter how long ago, the scars still burned as hot as the day the opened. You were a child, swollen and bruised, small and afraid. You were not afraid anymore. That matured into anger, resentment, a taste for something more bitter, developed the bitter taste for revenge.

You'd tried to move on with your life. You could be more than the sweet, sympathetic, baby faced orphan others shook their heads at. You were not a case to feel sorry for. Hundreds, thousands, millions of children like you. Successful careers, families of their own, full lives to look forward to. Surely you could make that for yourself, in later years, for now though you found yourself haunted by your youth. There were no parents to be adopted to, no siblings or grandparents, aunts and uncles. It was you, and your bandages, and your bruises. Twos company, threes a crowd. You had an army across your skin, deep set within all the broken bones you'd ever had. The yelling, the threats, the almost injuries.

A worker there, at the orphanage. One you learned to resent. Not quite sure why the hell they chose to work with children. Trust in the beginning, made of wide eyes and a need to please. You grew out of that quickly, the same way the others did. You never questioned them outwardly, but always wondered. Did they act like this with their own family? Did they have any? What made them want to do these things? Past the point of discipline, far beyond spanking. Their hands hurt. Everything they touched broke, piece by piece, the magic touch.

It was time to reconnect. No where to start, no place of beginning, a fate that left her buisness card exactly where you'd see. A sign, the okay to go along with it. You had no where to go, nothing to lose, not anymore. Her door was broken, a cardboard sign covering the smashed window. In sharpie she'd scribbled 'Alias Investigations'. You knew she was perfect for you. Jones worked fast, never getting close or emotionally invested. She questioned why only once, your answer a pathetic lie, but put an end to it. The parent you never knew you had. Stupid, you thought, but a happier ending than what you intended.

A week is all you had to wait, barely. An address, in the city, phone number, job, extended family. You didn't want to learn about them, it would have made the job harder. Besides, they didn't deserve them. Why did they get a family and you didn't? You thanked her, the next day heading to their house. You studied their pictures all night, one by one ripping them in half. They hadn't aged well. A permanent scowl dug into their face. The color of their hair gone, greys replacing it. A sentence of twenty years added on to their features, aging rapidly. Good, you decided, they deserve it.

You waited outside, working up the courage, the gun burning into the skin of your back. One bullet, one second, prison for the rest of your life would be worth it. Crossing the street, one hand by your side, the other already behind you, eyes locked on the front door. Dark, dawning, identical to the one to the orphanage. All you had to do was knock. One, two, three. On the count of three.

You hadn't noticed her. Her job was to watch and never been seen, not until she wanted you to see her. The dark leather jacket caught the corner of your eye. She didn't have to move quickly, she just had to be seen. You stopped in your tracks, frustrated, dissapointed, left staring at the number. Years you'd been waiting. You couldn't let some random person ruin it for you. She met you, on the steps, any minute they could open the door and find you there.

"Give me the gun." Demanding. Angry. This was none of her buisness, she had no right to be taking this away from you, not after all this time. You reached past her, pounding on the door. She moved quicker. When the door opened, their steps were empty. A prank, it looked like. A curse to the neighborhood kids, slamming it shut in response, the act making your blood run cold. You watched from the ground, Jessica thinking fast, pushing you over the railing to the street below. You would have landed on the gun if she hadn't taken it. She pulled you to your feet, her strength inhuman, pushing you away with your arm twisted behind your back.

Jess knew what a liar looks like, sounded like. It didn't take her long to find out about you. Your hospital records the easiest to find. Too many emergency visits to count, leading up until the time you left. No parents in sight, no adult or guardian, you had to sneak out to get care. That lead to other files, connecting to who you wanted to find, but not in the way you told her. She knew the feeling. The bubbling, the choking, the rash decisions and impulsive plans she made. Dozens. But she never went through with them,nand it was the smartest decision of her life, despite not always liking it. "You are not giving your life away to them, not anymore."

[thedailyimagines]

Imagine being Peter’s son, but not really being a part of the pack. (Part Two)

Part two of today’s earlier imagine of a request from an anon. Get ready for some Hale Family feels featuring Derek, Malia, and Peter.

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Warning: Depression, suicide attempt(s) and self harm. Also explicit language and described violence later in the chapter.

~~~~~~~~

“Deaton! Get in here!” The vet rushed into the bathroom, pausing only a moment to take in the sight of Derek holding his bleeding cousin. Peter lingered in the doorway, knowing what had happened but not wanting to see it.

“Peter, get me something to wrap his wrists. Towels, bandages, anything will do. Derek, I need you to lay y/n down on his back and call Melissa.” The two werewolves followed the vet’s orders. Soon Melissa McCall arrived with Scott trailing behind her. Her and Deaton worked on y/n while Scott asked the Hale men what had happened. Derek explained while Peter just stood off to the side. After some time, Melissa and Deaton exited the bathroom.

“We need some help moving him into his bed. It would also be a good idea to get him some dry clothes.” Derek stood up from his seat, but Scott pushed him back down.

“I’ll go help them. You stay here.” Derek nodded silently, saying nothing in reply. Scott turned to tell Peter to do the same, but Peter was no longer in the room. He had left while Derek was talking. Scott just shook his head and went to the bathroom to help.

He helped the veterinarian and his mother undress y/n and move him to his bed. Once they had him settled, Melissa walked back out to the room Derek sat in.

“You should get cleaned up. Y/n will be fine.” Derek just nodded and made the walk to his room. He washed y/n’s blood off of him and put on some clean clothes. After that he made his way to the younger’s room.

Derek didn’t leave y/n’s side, afraid the younger werewolf would somehow become worse if he looked away or fell asleep.

<—>

Y/n woke up with the sun in his eyes. He let out a quiet groan, turned over and curled deeper into the blankets, too comfortable to get out of bed. There was an itching at his wrists, so he went to scratch them only to be blocked by...bandages...

And then it all came back to him. This wasn’t right, he wasn’t supposed to wake up. Unless this was the afterlife, in which case it sucked. A soft snore caused him to turn his head to the side. There was Derek, sitting by his bed fast asleep. Why the hell was Derek there?

Y/n moved very slowly out of the bed as to not wake his cousin. He swayed a little upon standing, but didn’t crumple to the floor. Moving quietly, y/n opened the door to his room and slipped out into the hall. He listened for any noises or voices but heard none.

Moving into the kitchen he found a folded piece of paper on the counter addressed to Derek. Unfolding it revealed a hastily written note:

‘Melissa headed to work, Peter stopped by briefly but left for someplace, didn’t tell me where. Scott said he would drop by after school. Told him not to tell the rest of the pack yet, not until y/n was ready to. My number is below in case of emergency, I’m at the clinic if you can’t reach my phone. Deaton. (xxx) xxx-xxx’

Y/n snorted. As if he wanted the pack to know what happened. It was better to leave them in the dark or else they would act guilty and try acting like they cared. He didn’t want pity.

‘Or you could just finish what you started.’

Y/n glanced over towards the knife rack. He knew that Peter kept them sharp so that he had decent knives for cooking, and y/n had seen how easily they could slice skin when Issac had been chopping vegetables and the knife slipped.

‘It would be so easy. Just pick a knife and start cutting. No one’s gonna stop you this time.’

Y/n started unwrapping his bandages. His wrists already started the slow process of healing, scabs starting to form in some places while blood oozed in others.

He picked a knife from the rack and was about to make the first cut when-

“Y/n, put the knife down.”

<—>

Derek woke up feeling something was wrong. Head still down in his arms, he reached out to touch the arm of his young cousin.

Only to be met with an empty bed.

He shot up from his seat. Y/n was no longer in the room, and the door was open. Trying not to panic, Derek left the room towards the living area when he heard the sound a knife being pulled out.

Hoping that the noise wasn’t what he was expecting it to be, Derek quietly stepped into the kitchen. There was y/n, bandages on the floor and knife in hand. Derek stepped forward.

“Y/n, put the knife down.” The younger werewolf stiffened at the sound of the older mans voice.

“I don’t think I want to.” Y/n didn’t turn to face him. Instead he brought the knife down on his arm.

“Y/n, y/n- put the god damn knife down!” Derek finished his sentence with a roar, eyes flashing red. Y/n flinched and dropped the knife, which clattered to the floor. Silence filled the kitchen.

Breathing heavily, Derek crossed the short space and grabbed his cousin, pulling him close. Y/n tried to struggle away but gave up after a few moments. Derek held onto him, stroking y/n’s y/h/c locks and rocking slightly.

“Don’t ever try that again. Ever.”

“I thought you hated me.” The alpha shook his head.

“No y/n, I never hated you. I didn’t want you to be like me. I thought by staying away you would turn out better. It was a stupid idea and it just ended up hurting you more. I’m sorry.” Y/n shut his eyes to stop the tears from falling. He wasn’t sure if he could fully forgive Derek now, but knowing that someone cared about him made the pain somehow easier to bear.

“C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up. We can deal with everyone else later.” Derek steered him back into the living room and sat y/n on the couch. He left the room and returned shortly with fresh bandages, cotton swabs, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Preparing a few of the cotton swabs, Derek sat down next to the teenager.

“This is going to sting.” Gently taking y/n’s arm, Derek started wiping the scabbed wounds down. Y/n hissed softly but didn’t try to move away. Soon both arms were cleaned and wrapped in new bandages.

“Did you want to go back to bed or did you want to do something else?”

“I think I just wanna sit here for a bit.” Came the quiet reply. Derek nodded and grabbed the remote for the TV. Turning to a random channel playing some kind of history show, the two sat in silence.

Y/n’s eyes started drooping shut not long after. He slumped over a little in his spot on the couch, almost entirely asleep. Noticing the younger was pretty much sleeping, Derek gently pulled his young cousin into a laying down position with y/n’s head in his lap.

<—>

Scott and Malia entered the apartment using his spare key. The sight of Derek on the couch with y/n sleeping was a nice one, but Scott couldn’t help but feel guilty. He had been one of the factors that had nearly killed y/n.

Malia had cornered Scott earlier in the day and forced (threatened) him to explain why the hell Derek wasn’t answering his phone and where the fuck her baby brother was. She didn’t entirely trust the youngest Hale, but she didn’t entirely trust anyone. To her, y/n was like a reminder of the sister she had lost.

Upon learning what her brother had done Malia had wanted to run to the Hale’s shared flat. Scott had told her no and she became snappish, even yelling at a teacher when they told her off for her attitude. Her mood only worsened when she learned that her father was currently nowhere to be found and apparently hadn’t done anything to help her brother.

Derek looked up from his seat on the couch. He put a finger to his lips to signal the two to be quiet. Malia went to her family while Scott walked into the kitchen. They needed some private time in the living room.

“How is he?”

“He woke up for a little and walked around. He fell asleep about three hours ago.” Derek didn’t tell her about today’s close call. He felt that it was something that for now needed to stay between him and y/n.

“Did dad...?”

“I haven’t seen him since last night. Deaton left a note saying he came back for a bit but he left shortly after.”

“I didn’t know he was hurting this bad.”

“I didn’t either Mal. I feel like an idiot. I think the best thing to do is try to be there for him.” Malia nodded. Y/n shifted in his sleep and opened his eyes a bit. Malia smiled at him.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“That’s pretty understandable. I’m going to switch places with Der, okay?” After y/n nodded, Derek lifted his head and moved so Malia could take his place. She ran her fingers through y/n’s hair and Derek walked out into the kitchen.

“Mal?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.” Malia shook her head.

“Don’t be. I’m the one who should be saying sorry. I was an ass.”

“I forgive you.”

“Thanks y/n/n.” Y/n fell back asleep. In the kitchen, Derek and Scott were discussing they should do next.

“We should see about getting y/n a therapist. Maybe not immediately, but we should start looking around for one.” Scott gave a nod of agreement.

“We should also look into changing his legal guardian.” The new suggestion took Derek by surprise.

“What?”

“Well, Peter didn’t really seem to care all that much that his son nearly died, so maybe you should be his legal guardian.” Derek didn’t know how to reply. He would need to think long and hard before he made that decision.

“We’ll look into that later. I’m going to start making dinner. You can stay if you want.” Scott shook his head.

“I can’t. I told Stiles I would come over tonight.”

“Alright. I’ll see you later.” Scott walked back to the front door, giving Malia a wave before he left. Derek started gathering the needed food supplies for pasta when he heard the door open again. Thinking it was Scott he ignored it until he heard Malia say:

“What the hell are you doing here?” Rushing out to the living area, Derek found Malia baring her fangs at Peter. Peter for the most part seemed indifferent to the Werecoyote. Y/n however was trembling and making himself seem as small as possible.

“I live here too Malia. Did you forget?” Malia growled loudly and y/n flinched at the noise. The movement caught Peter’s attention.

“Oh look. You survived.” Derek now placed himself in between the father and his children.

“Don’t talk to him.” Peter scoffed.

“Oh please. If he hadn’t tried to off himself you two would still be ignoring him.” Derek now started growling and let out his claws.

“We at least want to learn from our behavior. We know we acted horribly and we want to change. You just don’t give a shit. So get the hell out of here and don’t come back or I’m going to rip out your spine and shove it up your ass.” Peter looked as though he wanted to say something in retaliation, but seeing the looks on Malia and Derek’s faces shut him up. He instead walked quickly to his room and returned shortly with a bag.

“I’ll be back later for the rest of my things.” With that Peter left. Derek relaxed and Malia settled back into the couch. Y/n hugged his knees close to his chest.

“You shouldn’t done that. He’s part of the pack and he’s family.” Malia put an arm around her brother’s shoulder.

“He wasn’t acting like pack or family. He doesn’t have any right to treat or talk to you like that. Do you understand?” Y/n gave a small half-hearted nod. Malia stood from her spot.

“Tell ya what. Let’s help make dinner and afterwards we can watch a movie. Sound good?” With an affirmative noise, y/n stood up and the three Hale Family members headed into the kitchen.

Maybe it wasn’t all fixed now, but it was starting to look better.

~~~~~~~~

And Part Two is done! This will be the end, so yeah. This imagine was probably the most difficult one I’ve written or will write for a while because I didn’t want it to seem rushed but I also didn’t want it to go into a part three or have it seem like everything gets fixed instantly.

Sorry to all those Peter Hale fans out there, it was just the request I got.

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I don’t own the above gifs, all credits go to the owners.

[mooleche]

A Story of Ink and Venom - Ch. 4

A/N - I don’t know what to say. It’s long, they’re all going to be long, I’m not strong enough to make them short. This chapter introduces some key points that will be needed for the next few chapters coming up, as always I hope you enjoy!

If you’d like to be tagged for the upcoming chapters let me know! ( ᐛ )و @leo-writer

Chapter 4 - Aftermath

We ran for what felt like hours.

I thought we were done for, looking up at those terrifying teeth that sneered back at me between Deadpool's limp limbs, blood pooling around our feet. If it hadn't been for the sirens coming I think we probably would have been, but we had somehow managed to pry ourselves away when it turned and never looked back as we ran for our lives.

I wanted to vomit, in fact, I think I did vomit at some point after realizing the blood got into my mouth and was all over my glasses.

The taste wouldn’t leave though. And the nauseating smell of copper hung around me as we tried to find our way back to the labs.

Inside my thoughts were a mess trying to recollect what happened. The terrifying image of Deadpool pulled apart, the look of pleasure on that monsters face as he did it. Bambi squeezed my hand, for her reassurance or mine I didn’t know, but it snapped me from my descent of reliving what had happened and back to reality. Her big blues were now wide with terror, flecks of blood sprinkling her cheeks and shirt. 

This didn’t feel real.

This couldn’t be real.

We jumped at the sudden sound of our names being called, looking to see a worried-looking Barry hurrying towards us who we met halfway.

“Girls? Heaven's are you alright?” he tried asking as he gave us both a one over before directing us back to the labs. One foot in front of the other was all I could manage at this point, everything else led back to that moment that I was desperately trying to forget. “Professor Renato had me watching for you two since the news broke out. Can’t believe this happened so clo-Professor, they’re here!” he babbled on, only stopping as we shuffled through Renato’s lab's doors.

I had never seen so much stress painted onto his face as I did the moment he saw us. He hurried towards us and immediately checked my face. I looked away in shame, already knowing what his sights had focused on.

“Thank the Gods you’re alright,” he uttered softly before directing us to some lab chairs and helping us sit. He disappeared briefly to murmur something to Barry in a hushed tone and I took the opportunity to hastily wipe my nose. I pulled my hand back to see a red so dark it almost appeared black and grimaced. “Girls, can one of you tell me what happened?” Renato asked carefully as he returned, a large medical kit in hand that he gripped tightly as if to calm his own nerves.

It was like the veil of composure had been lifted. Bambi and I looked at one another and released a deep breath, and like a dam breaking, we lost all composure and exploded.

"FUCK. FUCK! That was seriously fucked up, we almost died!"

"Deadpool DID die! Oh my god...Deadpool DIED, Nina!"

Bambi broke down sobbing while I covered my face with my hands and released a scream of panic, a slurry of curses leaving my mouth before I could stop myself. 

"I can't fucking do this, I don't wanna be a hero anymore. I DON'T WANT TO GET RIPPED IN HALF!" I wailed while dragging my hands down my face. My life had almost ended in a matter of minutes and I didn’t know what to do with myself now. Every time I closed my eyes I saw the whole scene play out again and I felt my stomach clench with nausea. 

We jumped as Renato slammed the medical case down on the table beside us and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not used to all the noise we had created.

“Alright you two, take a few breaths,” he ordered calmly, kneeling down to inspect us both properly this time. “Bambi, can you tell me what happened?”

She took a few deep breaths before going a mile a minute with what had just played out. I watched through teary eyes as he cleaned the scratches on her hands and knees, listening very carefully to what she said before turning to me and sighing.

“And you. You used your powers?” he asked softly, a tinge of disappointment in his voice as he inspected my face once more.

I nodded softly, unable to speak. 

My biggest tell that I had used my them was always a bloody nose. Doctors called it an unusual case of hypertension due to what my body had been through. I called it the god's way of keeping me from getting too cocky with my mutation. Either way, if I did so much as even think about getting overzealous with my powers now it was often too much of a strain on my system and that bloody nose was a warning not to push any further. It was why I had promised Renato that I wouldn’t do something like this to put myself in danger.

I wish I had listened.

He held my chin softly as he wiped away the blood and ink from my face. The realization of how stupid of a decision this had been was coming into sharper focus as I saw the worry in his dark eyes. 

And although I knew he wouldn't say it himself, Renato was thinking the same. 

“I-it was my fault,” Bambi tried to reason as if sensing the tension between us, but the damage had already been done.

“Continue the story,” he requested lightly as he continued to bandage me, but she looked terrified. Her voice grew shakier the closer she grew to the end and the professor rested a hand on her knee in reassurance. The other took to gripping my hand that was now visibly shaking as she mentioned the creature in all its rage and terror.

"Nina managed to stab it and get herself free but...but...-what the hell is THAT?" she interrupted herself as she looked over at me slowly and I froze, unsure of what she was talking about. 

She flew out of her chair, practically climbing onto the table beside us to separate herself from me while screaming and pointing at my hoodie. An indescribable noise of panic rose in my throat as I looked down and saw a pile of black goop traveling quickly across the dark fabric. I screamed, trying to fling it off but failing, instead falling to the floor in a panic and attempting once more to reach for it. I succeeded, a shiver of disgust traveling down my spine at the cold, slimy texture it gave off before I flung it to the ground and scooted away desperately in the opposite direction.

“Calm down!” Renato ordered as he appeared with a clear container and top in hand, brows furrowed with concentration as he intercepted it’s sluggish attempt back to me. He brought the container down with such speed that I had to do a double-take, but it was there, struggling to escape its new plastic prison. I could only release a sigh of relief in response, dropping my head down on the cool tiled floor for a brief peace.

It had only taken a few moments before the remaining workers from other sections poked their heads in with curiosity and concern over our screaming. Renato, swift as ever, gave a simple curt nod to them and shrugged sheepishly. “Nothing to see here. Just a mouse,” he lied, a few chuckles emerging from his peers before they dispersed. I sat up and stared at my grimy hands and felt tears form once more.

It was all too much. 

Between the recent attack and that...whatever that thing was I was headed for a meltdown and fast.

I excused myself to the restroom before Renato or Bambi could question me, rushing down the hall past murmurs and snickers of what had just transpired. If only they had known what we had actually seen, maybe then they wouldn’t be laughing. 

Once I got into the small bathroom I locked the door and ripped my hoodie off, not wanting to get blindsided by something like that again. Looking in the mirror felt like I was looking at a different person. This was not the Nina filled with hope and optimism for a bright future filled with new beginnings that had been here not even an hour ago. This was the Nina that watched all of her hope get ripped in two by a giant monster and wanted nothing more than that boring life she had strived for.

This Nina had failed as a hero and never wanted to go down that route again.

I splashed my face with water to drive away onslaught of tears that began to bubble up and took to fiddling with my hair, now stiff with remnants of blood and sweat. It had engrossed me so much that I failed to see the janitor that I bumped into as I was leaving and I gasped in surprise.

“I’m so sorry,” I started but paused as I saw his face. He looked strange. Not his appearance, perse. He looked normal enough, with pale skin and jet black hair that he had tied back and mostly hidden under a ball cap. It was his expression that seemed to catch me off guard.

His dark eyes seemed to study me with fascination and a smile slowly crept upon his lips as he looked at the dried blood that stained my hoodie and hands.

“Right in the thick of it, eh?” he asked just above a whisper, an edge of excitement in his tone.

I frowned and nodded, a feeling of unease spreading the longer I stood there. He looked ready to ask me more questions but I excused myself before he got the chance, diving my hands deep into the pocket of my hoodie before he could inspect them more. I don’t know why he made me so uncomfortable, but something deep down told me to keep away and I wasn’t about to ignore that gut feeling any more than I already had.

When I arrived back in the lab Barry was on his way back out, a look of relief on his face as he saw me pass through the sliding doors.

“You gonna be alright, Ms. Knight?”

“Yeah...yeah, just still a little shaken up…” I admitted, feeling him give a reassuring squeeze to my arm before he departed. Inside the lab was quiet as Bambi and Renato had their sights focused on something in her hands. Our belongings were now miraculously sitting on one of the tables and the food lay open and waiting to be eaten. 

“How-”

“I asked Barry if he would retrieve them when you got here. Please, sit down and eat.” Renato offered, pulling out the chair I had been seated in earlier. I continued to stand stiffly at the doors while eyeing the room warily.

“Where’s that thing?”

“At my desk, don’t worry,” he reassured me as he directed my attention to the sealed container held down by a heavy book. “For precaution,” he added as he noticed my furrowed brows at how much the slimy black substance protested being in the container. Now convinced that things were as back to normal as they could be I took a cautious seat next to Bambi who looked fully immersed in her camera.

“What’s going on?” I asked, scooting closer to her to see what pictures she had taken. She toyed with the spoon in her mouth before sharing the camera screen with me. 

“Just trying to show the professor what that creeper looked like. Here,” she said, tapping the screen with a nicely manicured nail.

If I hadn’t been there in the action myself I’d have thought Bambi was smack dab in the thick of it with us. Her shots were incredible, consisting of close-ups of Spiderman and Deadpool in action. She had even managed to get one of me looking almost cool. At least until I saw the shots of me attempting to run back to her with a face that looked like I had just kicked a bees nest.

“Bam!”

“What! You gotta admit they’re a little funny,” she tried to reason, but quickly moved to the next photos to prevent me from going off on her. I shrugged in annoyance and turned to my food, a yellow looking curry that smelled as hot as it tasted going down. It was welcomed, a sensation I could focus on instead of the dull pain that was quickly beginning to settle in as my adrenaline wore off.

I looked over to Renato who was now seated back at his desk, fully immersed in the impromptu battle station he had created that consisted of a spot for his food, his computer, and a fancy looking microscope I had not seen earlier.

“You’ll have to let me borrow that camera, Bambi,” Renato called as he zipped in his chair from one space to another. “I’d like to send some of the photos it holds to a colleague of mine.” 

She scoffed in response.

“As if. I’ll give you the SD card with the photos on it, but I want them back,” she added as she stood to hand him the small device into his palm. One small nod later he was back to work as if we weren’t there anymore and Bambi turned to me. There was concern on her face as she sat beside me and took my hand, once bright blue eyes now stormy and wide.

“Are you okay?”

I didn’t know how to answer. I wasn’t okay, I didn’t feel like I’d ever be okay after what I saw. But I couldn’t tell her that. Looking at her watching me it was easy to see she was ready to cry again if I answered anything remotely honest. I could only nod softly and turn away in response so she couldn’t see my face. We sat in a heavy silence after, focusing on our meals like they were the only things keeping us tethered to that moment and in some weird way, they were. 

“Incredible,” Renato whispered sometime later, prying us back from our thoughts to look at his hunched over physique. Whatever was under his microscope had completely engrossed him and now left us looking at him with curiosity.

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Renato?” I asked.

“Just...this thing...this creature. Its DNA is fascinating. And somehow very much alive despite being separated from its host for so long.”

“Alive?”

“Seems that way. Take a look,” he whispered as if not wanting to startle it but beckoned me forward. I hesitated but obliged, looking into the microscope and gasping. Whatever this thing was it’s DNA was lively, moving erratically like it was restless and needed something. 

I shivered and pulled back, leaning against his desk as I processed things.

"This feels like some kind of strange nightmare..." I confessed quietly, watching him turn away as he began to clack at his keyboard with excitement. He stopped abruptly and faced me after hearing my words.

"I won’t lie. What you did was extremely dangerous and quite frankly a bit stupid." he started, and I frowned. There it was. The line that I had been hoping so badly to avoid.

"Right. I’m sorr-"

"You didn't let me finish. It was stupid, but you did what you thought was right, and no one can ever fault you for that. And Deadpool? The man’s an idiot, leave it to him to get himself killed with a stunt like this."

I blinked in confusion.

"Do you know Deadpool?"

"I know lots of people, Nina. What I'm trying to say is...don't blame yourself for something that was already written in the cards. Hell, give it some time, you might even see him walking around next week." he added with a casual shrug before returning to his typing, as if what he said didn’t just tear open a whole new set of questions. 

My confusion only deepened. Was he on drugs?

"You did hear the part where I said he got ripped in half, right?" Bambi asked point-blank, her expression matching mine. 

"I've seen heroes reappear from worse scenarios, if you would call him that, to begin with," he added sourly before Bambi and I shared a look with one another. Renato had a fascinating habit of keeping his private life well...private. Before I could even open my mouth to ask the question that we were both desperate to get an answer to he turned to me and shook his head. “No, I will not tell you which superheroes I’ve worked with or what happened to them.”

“Oh come on!” I protested as he stood from his chair, ignoring me to saunter over to the bag where our food once lay. He picked up the smaller decorated bag Mr. Basil had gifted us earlier and held it out in my direction.

“Up for feeding Levi tonight?” Renato suddenly asked as if to steer me away from my curious questions and anxieties. 

I blinked in surprise. The only thing Renato valued more than cleanliness and science was that cuttlefish, the cuttlefish that I had only ever watched him feed from afar because he didn’t trust others to do it.

I sure as hell wasn’t going to pass up this chance.

“S-sure!” I said, now hurrying to take the bag from his hand before he could object. His tank sat in the corner near Renato’s desk so that he could always keep an eye on him while he worked. Today was no different as I realized it had been here all along, I just hadn’t noticed it with all the chaos going on. I kneeled down to examine the brightly lit tank, being met with various colorful corals and rocks before seeing a small crustacean drift out from a small cave amidst the rocks. It must have known it was feeding time, or maybe it just wanted to greet me, because it very casually floated to the front of the glass where I pressed my face with joy. It was a small, plump little creature that’s little maroon body swayed to and fro with the water as it inspected me.

Renato clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Face off the glass, you’ll smudge it.” he frowned while grabbing for his trusty cleaning cloth for such an occasion and I scowled.

“YoU’lL sMuDgE iT,” I mocked before opening the small bag, being greeted with fresh shrimp that squirmed to life as I grabbed one and hastily tossed it into the tank. Leviathan usually was quick to zip through the water to catch its prey, but today he waited patiently for it to fall before consuming it whole. 

I frowned. “What’s wrong little guy? Not hungry today?”

"He's...just getting up in age now. After all, they only live to be about 2 years old."

“They what?” I asked incredulously. He narrowed his eye at me skeptically.

"Did you listen at all when I explained the lifespan of a cuttlefish?"

“Uhm, yeah! Of course I did,” 

I did not. Death was suddenly everywhere and it rattled me to my core. Renato must have noticed this because he went back to pinching the bridge of his nose delicately and sighing.

“This is exactly why I wasn’t going to bring it up,”

“So what, you were going to just have him die and then tell me?”

“Now hold on-”

“You really don’t have a leg to stand on for this one, Professor,” Bambi called as I started past him to gather my things. I knew he hadn’t meant it intentionally, but my nerves were shot and I suddenly wanted to leave before any other bad news came my way. Bam followed suit and began collecting her things as well. Renato watched us with concern slowly etching onto his face before he began digging around his lab coats pockets for what I assumed were keys.

“Hold on, let me drive you two home.”

“We’ll be fine,” I muttered, trying to head towards the door.

He grabbed my shoulder gently to try and hold me back.

“Nina please, it’s not safe out-”

“Back off!” I shouted, shaken by my own words. Even he looked startled and quickly removed his hand from me with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. It’s just...been a long day and I just want to go home. We’ll be safe, I promise.” I added, shoving my hands deep into my hoodie as he nodded reluctantly.

He looked like he wanted to comfort me, do something to make this situation better. Instead, he uttered a faint ‘Be careful, and text me when you get home!’ as we left. The halls were now silent as everyone else had left for home, my thoughts wandering back to the janitor that had acted so strange earlier and I shivered. I had never seen him before, which wasn’t unusual in this building, but that smile…

I shook my suspicions away as we ran into Barry once more at the exit. He offered to walk us to my Vespa but I politely declined.

Bambi and I stood in a heavy silence shortly after as I handed her my helmet for the ride home. Instead, I felt her hands wrap around my waist and hug me tight. She was shaking.

“Nina, I am so, so sorry...If it hadn’t been for what I said-”

“Bam stop,” I interrupted gently, feeling her head press into my back. “I wanted to do it, and if I hadn’t it might have been both of them instead of just…” I trailed, unable to finish my sentence. I didn’t even know if Spiderman was still alive, we hadn’t bothered checking the news while in the lab. For I knew he was…

“I can’t do this again…” I whispered, her grasp around me growing a little tighter at my words.

“Please don’t do this again. The thought of losing you…” she admitted, her voice becoming thick as the words left her mouth. We stood in silence like this for a few moments before recollecting ourselves and riding home. The trip back was a little longer than I expected, forced to take detours due to the rampage from earlier that destroyed the usual way. My stomach did somersaults as we briefly passed a section that, despite the darkness, had deep stains of blood settled into the pavement that made me feel sick. Bambi’s grip around my waist grew tighter as we passed it and I knew she had seen as well. I grimaced, the faint hope that this was all in my head crushed at her response.

By the time we got back to the dorms it was a ghost town. Usually, by now there was at least the random group of students heading off to the bars or parties. Or a student rushing by stocked to the brim with art supplies to get work done in one of the studios.

Tonight there was nothing.

"Must have been an early curfew since it was so close to the school..." Bambi whispered as if reading my thoughts. We both pulled our phones out to find a series of text messages and missed calls, but one, in particular, we had both missed. In bold flashing red letters was a caution with the following text beneath:

!EMERGENCY! 

Early curfew is now in effect. 

Due to the recent attack of a criminal still on the loose, curfew now begins at 9 PM. 

Updates will be released when more information is provided. 

Do NOT go out alone until further notice.

“Criminal is still on the loose...?” Bambi whispered in horror, a jolt of ice-cold fear stabbing my stomach as I read over the words. We shared a look of unease before rushing into the dorms, like everything would be alright once we were back home. Anything to escape the oncoming realization that my fears of Spiderman’s safety were becoming a reality. Or that if the criminal was still loose it could very well have been looking for the idiot that had tried to take it on.

Again I ask, what was I thinking?

We crashed into our dorm to find a tall, lanky woman pacing before us in the entrance. Her blue eyes widened in relief at the sight of us and she pulled us both into a tight hug. 

“Oh thank god,” she said just above a whisper. Above me, Benni Banks’ worried gaze looked down at Bambi and me who had been smooshed against her chest like the worried mother hen that she was. Her once perfectly parted black and yellow hair now rest in a mess as if she had been constantly running her hands through it and her once pale face was red. 

Behind her on my bed sat Ava who started toward us in large, quick strides, a flurry of Spanish curses trailing behind her.

“You fucking moron, what were you thinking!” she asked angrily, cupping my face in her hands as she inspected me. Her eyes were puffy and face flushed as if she had been crying heavily. Another feeling of intense guilt struck me at this, realizing just how stupid I had been to put myself in this situation, but also my friends. I looked away in shame as she wrapped me in a tight embrace, a small sob escaping her in the process. I wrapped my arms around her gently and frowned.

“I’m so sorry…” I managed to whisper before finding my own tears begin to spill out, my composure gone once more. Being confronted with those who had spent hours worrying was bringing it into sharper focus, and I felt terrible for it. What would they have told my friends if that creature had succeeded in eating me? My parents? I shook my head to dismiss the thought before it swallowed me up again and released myself from Ava’s hold, desperate to take a shower.

I didn’t want to think anymore.

I just wanted this nightmare to be over.

[chrysalispen]

vi. the holy glimmers of goodbyes

SORRY had an emergency come up last night and forgot to post this chapter for my non-AO3 reading folks, then forgot i forgot ><

AO3 Link

The stars in the sky are falling.

Meteors streak through the endless expanse of black, painting the skies with myriad pinpricks of light as they fall to the earth, and the land, so recently shored up by its nascent will, shudders beneath their weight.

Someone cradles her close, the feeble warmth of their body failing against the creeping chill within her own.

She feels the brush of corrupted aether against the tattered edges of her fading self, and forces herself not to shudder away from it as it seeks some small and pitiful scrap of comfort. It twines about her fragments in desperation, like a child trying to gather the pieces of a shattered toy in hopes that it might be repaired.

This was your fault, the someone screams, purest gold and snow white, your fault, your fault, and beneath that fury there is endless, endless anguish and the keening sound of a heart breaking.

There is almost nothing left of her now but still she reaches out with her last remaining sliver of consciousness. Oh, don't cry. Don't cry.

I'll save you.

I'll save you, she says to the someone, her soul fragmenting to pieces, fading into forever. I promise.

I promise-

~*~

Aurelia's eyes opened to the sight of an endless expanse of brown.

Throat tight with a hot ache, the Garlean wiped slowly at her eyes with trembling fingers as she tried to regain her bearings. There was wood beneath her, hard and unyielding and splintered, and the hot pain of her leg had faded to a dull throb. With some considerable effort she twisted her upper body just enough to brace her elbows against the table and sit up. Cold, damp, the foul smell of wet clothes and the copper smell of blood and the low ambient murmur of several people engrossed in quiet conversation- and she remembered. The Eorzean encampment.

She wasn't wearing her uniform anymore. Some soul had taken the liberty of removing what was left of the torn and filth-encrusted carbonweave, and had even taken the trouble to attempt to wash her and dress her in dry clothes. The shirt she now wore was rough homespun, as were the pants. Her right foot was bare, covered in mottled bruising that looked much worse than it truly was, and her left-

Aurelia couldn't see her left foot. Her leg was swaddled from her toes to mid-thigh in a heavy field dressing, and she couldn't flex it for the rough wooden splint that had been tied down at three points. When she tried, cautiously, to flex her foot it sent a sharp stab of pain up through her leg that knocked the breath right out of her. She doubled over, waiting for the pain to pass.

"Are you alright? Does the splint pain you?"

She looked up, recognizing the flat and tired voice of the Hyuran conjurer who'd helped take her to the camp - Edwin, she remembered. He looked pale and wrung out, slumped over a stool with his staff leaning against one of the legs. "Pray do not concern yourself. I'm fine."

"...You're crying. If it's that painful, there are potions we can-"

"Anything you might give to me would be better served to the men and women still in need without." Her own response was as low and subdued as his, her voice little more than a rasp in her throat. "The pain is far from unbearable; I simply had a bad dream. Hardly anything upon which to waste a willowbark tincture."

"Was it..."

"No."

He stopped. Her breath stuttered in her throat.

It's so strange, Aurelia thought. We all know what happened. We all saw it with our own eyes, and yet... 

They were practically sitting in the ruins of Revenant's Toll, or close enough as to make little difference, and they were still unwilling to say Dalamud. As if by simply not speaking the name aloud they could collectively will this waking nightmare away, one in which Nael van Darnus had trapped them all.

"No," she repeated, at length. "It was... I don't remember. A meteor shower, I think."

"...A star shower made you cry?"

She offered a small and helpless shrug, and said nothing more.

"Very well," he said. He sounded ever so slightly annoyed, but he didn't press the subject any further. "Suppose we ought to take you to the others eventually. But it's still raining and I'm not going to have spent time here trying to set your leg only for you to catch your death."

"And what of those who have no choice?"

"We've nowhere to send them." Aurelia might have winced but for the fact she heard no accusation evident in his tone, only a bone-deep exhaustion. "Wounded survivors have been coming into the camp since it was struck and we've more in need of a healer's touch than we have the beds to hold them or healers to tend them. I need rest myself, but without me there's not enough hands to work in the surgery."

"Then allow me to take your place."

"But- look, Garlean, I don't-" He seemed visibly flustered, stammering as he tried to find his words. Aurelia waited, seeing him through his surprise. He took a couple of deep and measured breaths, clasped his hands together, and shut his eyes. When he opened them again he said, "Why are you taking pity on Eorzeans? We captured you. You're fighting us. Don't you lot consider us savages?"

"You're not savages," she snapped, ignoring his surprise. "And why are you trying to dissuade me from aiding your fellows? I'm offering to-"

"Who's offering what?" a flat voice echoed from without the tent flap. Edwin startled, accidentally kicking the side of a nearby cabinet, and cursed as his toe cracked against the sharp corner. "Your own fault, Browne. Shouldn't have been sitting so close." The Elezen squinted at Aurelia even as she wiped her bloodstained hands on her apron. "Oh, you're awake. Sorry I surprised you with the spell. How's the dressing? Not too tight?"

Ignoring the Hyur's muttered oaths, she tried to offer the woman a smile. "No, my circulation is fine. The splint's inconvenient, but if it weren't there would be cause for concern. And there's no more pain than I should expect. You did well. Provided there are no complications the break should knit cleanly."

"For that you ought be thanking Sergeant Browne and your own quick thinking. Had you removed those greaves I'd be far more worried about rot, but that black... stuff you imperials wear under your armor-"

"Carbonweave?" she supplied.

"Whatever it is, it did a good job of keeping it clean. There was blood and rainwater aplenty, but otherwise wasn't much for me to do except set the leg and wait for you to wake up so I could send you on your way." She frowned. "Though were it me I'd wait until the rain's let up some. Anyroad, what's this about an offer?"

Aurelia glanced over her shoulder at the conjurer, who shook his head silently. Her lips tightened in irritation, and she turned her attention back to the other woman.

"Your conjurer has exhausted himself caring for the wounded."

"Aye, me and him and every bloody soul with the ability to heal. There's naught to be done for it."

"He needs rest."

"You think I don't know that, Garlean? You think he doesn't know that?"

"If you're willing to let me fill in so he can rest, at the very least you'll be no worse off than before. I can't use aether, but there are other things I can do which are arguably just as effective." She glanced at the tent flap, towards the long line of people she knew still waited outside to be seen. "And if I might be so bold, you are hardly in a position to turn away help where it's offered. You're understaffed as it is and your conjurer here is about two patients away from succumbing to aether depletion. He'll be of little use to you or any of that lot in that state."

The woman stared at her in incredulous silence, long enough to make Aurelia wonder if she'd pushed too hard trying to make her case--then Léonie let out a short, dry laugh.

"Aye, you're a chirurgeon, all right. I know that voice when I hear it. Think you that imperial medicine is superior to our savage healing magicks, then, medicus?"

"Not superior; merely different. I am not so foolish as to claim otherwise. But healing magicks still have mortal limits, limits with which I am well familiar. ...Hells below," Aurelia cursed, "if I just had a bloody field kit! There's so much more I could do with the proper tools. But I know how we can start-"

"All right! All right." The Elezen's gaze wavered between Aurelia and Edwin, and she tapped her index finger thoughtfully against her chin for a long moment before appearing to come to a decision. "Sergeant, on your way to your lie-down kindly inform your commander I've conscripted her prisoner until we've more hands available to process wounded."

"But-"

"She's right. You need rest." She shook her head with a rueful sigh. "As for you, Garlean: you'll stay off your feet, understand? That leg of yours won't heal properly if you aggravate it. The brass're going to have kittens but Twelve help me, I'd take a godsdamned barber as things stand now."

"Hopefully I'll be rather more use to you than a barber. Speaking of which, if Sparrow's still about," Aurelia said, "I have an idea."

~*~

Bryngeim Ahrmbraena had not yet sought her bed. She sat alone, standing vigil over one small corner of the infirmary tents, her hand clasped gently over a set of bandage-swaddled fingers; he had not stirred at her touch, but he still breathed, at least for the time being. She startled, briefly, when a hand touched her shoulder, and hastily swiped a forearm across her eyes before deigning to acknowledge it.

"...No change, I assume?"

"None. Has Sparrow already taken the prisoner?"

"No, Storm Captain Brudevelle's put her to work in the surgery."

"....Has that woman lost aught's left of her mind? An imperial prisoner, working in the infirmary? With our wounded?"

"She's a healer-"

"Well do you know she probably claimed such to spare herself," Bryn snapped. "If I have to have Sparrow drag her into the pens through the mud, I will."

There was a long silence, and then she heard him heave a heavy, tired sigh.

"Beg pardon, ma'am, but you can't. Captain Brudevelle invoked the conscription clause."

Cursing, Bryn laid her commander's hand down on his coverlet, stood, and exited the tent with Edwin trailing behind.

As she approached the surgery she heard the clamor of voices coming from the nearby surgery tent. Mouth tight with displeasure, she increased her paces. And stopped mid-step, staring nonplussed at the sight of Cheerful Sparrow with the Garlean prisoner in his arms, her splinted leg braced against one of his broad shoulders and covered with a blanket. She carried in her lap a pile of cloth strips, the same ones they'd used to mark the fields that had been searched.

"Tie this around her wrist," she was instructing one of the men sitting on the ground, passing over a strip of yellow cloth. "Make sure it can be easily seen when next the chirurgeons make their rounds. If her condition worsens, give a shout."

Bryn's jaw, which had been hanging slack, snapped shut again as she regained her voice. "Sparrow, what in the seven hells-"

"You'll have to take it up with Léonie, Bryn." Sparrow looked apologetic, but he didn't back down. The Garlean woman in question looked some cross between embarrassed and uncomfortable, not that Bryn was particularly minded as to an imperial's comfort, all told. "Prisoner's been conscripted for infirmary duty."

"She can't-"

"Before you start taking your man to task, Captain Ahrmbraena, you've a perfectly good chirurgeon you were about to send to the pens when we're criminally undermanned." Léonie Brudevelle was another veteran of the Levy, albeit not one Bryngeim knew terribly well, but the woman's no-nonsense demeanor had earned her the run of the camp infirmaries -- in this case, infirmary singular; the medical corps hadn't been spared the vagaries of calamity any more than the rest of them. She'd apparently heard the argument and was approaching now, a potion in one hand. "She'll be of far more use here - under my supervision - than she will sitting about waiting for a tribunal to decide her fate."

Bryn's expression was one of deep consternation.

"Go on, then," Léonie said, a trifle impatiently. "We've got things well in hand. Go back to your man -- don't give me that look, Bryn; I know full well you came from Captain L'sazha's bedside."

"...Wait."

The sudden interjection, sharp and just a little strangled, came from the woman in Cheerful Sparrow's arms.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but did... you just say 'Captain L'sazha?' "

"Aye, what of it?"

"He's... is he from Limsa Lominsa or-"

"Most of us what's in the Levy ain't from these parts, lass," Sparrow explained. "We're all 'venturers, most of us, or independent privateers. I don't rightly know if he ever told us where he's from and we have a policy not to ask. ...But most of us know an Ala Mhigan accent when we hear one."

"I see," she said weakly. Her skin, already very fair, had gone the color of chalk. She looked shocked and frightened, as though she'd seen a ghost-- or heard of one.

Bryn's eyes narrowed suspiciously. And just what would one of the Emperor's finest be knowing of a freelancer in the Lominsan navy?

"I-" she began, then glanced at Léonie, "could I... could I please go with Captain Ahrmbraena for a moment? I'll be right back. I'm sorry, but there's something I need to confirm."

The chirurgeon considered this, then said:

"You've as long as it will take us to finish preparations here, that's a half-bell at the outside. Make it a quarter if you can. I'll grab a couple of warm bodies so we can continue in your absence."

"My thanks."

She passed the makeshift wristbands over to the Elezen woman, who continued on her way down the line. For his part Cheerful Sparrow could only be grateful that looks could not indeed kill, else the thassalocracy might have sought Bryngeim Ahrmbraena's talent for that feat alone. The chilly, furious gaze she leveled on the woman in his arms could have frozen pig iron to a glacier.

"I know not," she said, in a low and dangerous voice, "what game you think you're playing at, imperial, but so help me I will call the wrath of everyone in this camp down upon you if this is some absurd attempt to escape, do you understand?"

Making a noise that was somewhere between a hiss and a snarl, she pivoted about on one heel and stormed back towards the hospital pavilions, leaving the others to follow.

~*~

The Roegadyn woman had already taken up her seat at the cot and bedroll when Sparrow arrived with his burden. Looking this way and that, he hooked his ankle around a nearby stool and carefully set the prisoner down atop it, the exhaled and sank to the floor with a grimace, trying to work the knots out of his back. Not that it was the girl's fault but he was rather beginning to feel like a draft chocobo.

Got to see about findin' the lass a way to get around the camp without me...

But all of that was forgotten when he heard the soft catch of breath in the Garlean's throat. Even Bryn looked startled, though she recovered quickly, her scowl back in place as she spat back:

"Don't you dare ask what happened to him. It's the same as what happened to every bloody one else. He got near cooked alive trying to save his people from the same fate. He's been lying like this for hours. If you're waiting for him to wake up, the conjurers say it's not like to happen."

Rather than rise to that anger, Aurelia reached across the cot and very carefully ran her fingers through the Miqo'te's dark brown hair, one thumb stroking the soft outer fur on his good ear. He'd been seared by Bahamut's flames, and his chest and most of his face were a half-charred mess. Much of the surrounding skin was as white as marble.

"I didn't know he'd defected. I thought he had found someone else," she said, her voice trembling. "After a year, he... his letters stopped coming. I tried to find out what had become of him but the- the army, they wouldn't-"

-and then the cracked, hoarse groan from the man in the bed drew their attention.

Aurelia had treated more than her share of burn victims; immolation was a common infantry hazard. The worst case she'd ever seen up until now had been a Scorpio pilot who'd lost control of the vehicle during a war game gone awry. Due to inexperience, he had overcorrected himself and rolled the warmachina. One of its fuel lines had ruptured in the process, spraying him with ceruleum moments before the vehicle caught fire. Her team had dragged the poor man shrieking from the remains of his cockpit. Although he'd survived, the burns had gone deep enough to leave him blinded and disfigured, and he'd been retired due to his injuries.

Sazha was somehow worse. His right ear had been burned almost completely away, and the eye that cracked open on that side was naught but a soup, not the deep and beautiful emerald she recalled so well. But the other looked just as she remembered, and it centered first on Bryngeim, the pupil blown wide from darkness or shock, she wasn't sure which.

"Seven," Aurelia jen Laskaris whispered, beneath the sting of her tears. "Bloody ridiculous name, that."

That gaze shifted towards the sound of her voice even as his good ear flickered under her fingers, the half-shut eyelids flaring the barest ilm wider in clear recognition.

"Relia," he croaked, a parched whisper from lips that barely moved.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched something like hurt flash across the other woman's eyes. Aurelia, wishing to spare the Captain her blushes, made no remark upon it and instead continued running her thumb over his ear as though she had seen nothing else but her old friend. His brow was cool and clammy, his breath rattling.

"Captain Ahrmbraena and her men rescued me from the battlefield, after the moon fell." The smile she offered him felt false and strained. "...I've been taken prisoner, but it's not so bad. They've just put me to work in the surgery, that's all, you've no call to worry. So... so you just rest, all right?"

His throat worked as he swallowed.

"Elle said.. Garlemald had to have you," he whispered. "Not who you were."

"Neither of us are sixteen any longer, old friend. You grew up, and so did I." She glanced at Bryngeim, who did not hold his hand so much as support it in her much larger ones, her palms enfolding his bandaged fingers as gently as the wings of a bird, and when Aurelia looked into the woman's brown eyes she understood at last, and this time her smile was more genuine. "So... you and the Captain, eh?"

He blinked at her, looking something close to guilty.

"It's all right," she said gently. "I'm happy for you."

"Sorry you got... in this mess."

"None of this was your fault, Sazha. None of it."

No answer. She leaned over him, careful not to touch any of the bandaging or exposed burns, and kissed him on a small patch of untouched skin above his good eye.

"I've got to go back to the surgery. Be good for the Captain," she said, somewhat hoarsely, and moved to signal for Sparrow-

"Relia."

She looked back over one shoulder. Captain Ahrmbraena was crying openly now, her hair spilling over his chest. Sazha's good eye glistened bright and wet in his ruined face.

"Elle was wrong about you," he rasped. "You've a light in you still. Use it. Too late for me. Not everyone."

For those you can save. Grief sat in her chest like a rock. She wanted to say something, anything, that could help. Do anything that could help, but she had known just by looking at him that he was beyond saving. Bryngeim was right; her people were responsible for this tragedy, and she was responsible, and there was nothing she could do that could possibly undo what had been done.

All she could do was try to atone.

For those who had been lost.

For those she could yet save.

"I promise, Sazha," she whispered. "I'll save them. As many as I can. I promise."

The sounds of his lover's grief still echoed in her ears long after she had fled his bedside.

~*~

           (in the end, all she ever remembers are the stars in the sky. falling.)

[tsw-story]

Chapter 83 - Doin’ It For Themselves

Sweat ran down from beneath Lucy's hair and down the bridge of her nose as her muscles tensed—hands locked on pieces of metal to adjust the direction of their teleportation mechanism. Mara helped as well, though she wasn't quite tall enough to reach it all. Meanwhile, Kali stood back with her eyes closed, and pointed in various directions.

“That's right. A little bit to the left... stage left. That's the other left. And up next. I think.”

Lucy was feeling exhausted, as were the rest of them. They had been tirelessly working toward finding and putting a stop to their sister's scheme. At the very least, they wanted to speak with her. “You think?”

“Right there! It's hard to narrow it down to a specific point, but I think Kevin is right about there. You sure about this, though? We'll probably be popping right into a prison cell or something. You know what they do with wizards there.”

“I know.” Lucy shook her head. “But this is personal now. We should no bias towards their decision to capture wizards. But we do know Anzu spoke with officials after that attack, and it's our responsibility to make sure such a disaster doesn't happen again.”

“I still can't believe she'd do something this extreme,” Mara muttered.

It was finally prepared. Lucy stood before the center of the room, and she opened up a smoking fissure across the stone floor. The glow of flickering flames could be seen within. One by one, they hopped inside. Lucy, Mara, and then finally Kali. It sealed up behind them as if it was never there to begin with.

***

Taj's hand trembled with frustration which caused the plastic of the radio's case to crackle. Beside him sat a table with Kevin's belongings, as few as they were. A bracelet, a ring, a wallet, and a phone. His captive, the boy in question, refused to speak, which was not all that surprising. But once again he raised the radio up to his mouth and stared daggers. “You're so certain this isn't your friend?”

“Positive.”

“I'll give the call to execute him then, if you're so confident!”

“Go ahead and try!”

He slammed the radio down on the table next to the other items, and whipped his wrist out forward. The bandages that made up a layer over his outfit unravelled from his arm and flew through the air like a snake before wrapping around Kevin's neck. It tightened unbelievably quickly, so much so that it caused Kevin to jump in his seat and widen his eyes.

“I was tasked with getting certain information. And you should know that we have no obligation to let you back out of here. So then, knowing that, will you still not speak? Your parents still live, and I doubt they'd want to hear of an unfortunate accident.”

Kevin's gaze blurred under the pressure of the noose. His eyes squinted as he countered the man's sharp stare with daggers of his own.

Unknown to them at first, a crack started to form across the tiles of the floor near the far corner. Smoke and light began to emerge, and it caused Taj's attention to snap in an instant. He retracted his bandages, and leapt back to the wall where a phone was mounted. It was dialled with no hesitation. “Intruders! I don't know how they managed to open a portal in here, but—“ His statement paused as he saw the shape of the intruders appear.

Three devils, each a different height, but related. Lucy stood in the front with two of her sisters behind her, and her expression was fierce. Flames trailed out across the ground and up the walls around them, and he remained with her arms crossed over her chest. Slowly, the fissure sealed behind them.

“Lucy!” Kevin shouted as his vision barely spotted them behind.

He dropped the phone and raised one hand into the air. “Stop right there. You're intruding on private government property. It doesn't matter who you are, Princess of Hell. This is strictly forbidden!” He lunged forward, and his bandages whipped out to grab Lucy by the wrist. Like a bolt of lighting, Mara zipped towards and through the material, snapping it in half with one whack of her wrist.

“Don't touch my sister!” she shouted.

Before Taj could react, Kali was already feeling up his captive. She pet him on the head and whispered, “It's all right. You're all mine now.”

Kevin tensed up back against the chair. “I'm what?”

“Calm down. We found you, because I put a little shadow inside you.”

“You did what?”

“Get back!” Taj shouted as he moved to sweep across her legs. Before it could connect, she vanished into a poof of black smoke. She was then back behind him, with her allies once more.

The door flew open at that moment and a few armed guards hustled inside with guns locked and loaded. The barrels were all aimed directly at the three newcomers, but Lucy didn't recoil.

“We're here on exceptionally important business,” stated Lucy. “I must speak with the one in charge. It's about the attack on Spokane. The one who lead the defense force, and the one who brought this boy into custody, is the one we must see.”

“You don't get to make demands—“

“Stand down,” boomed a familiar voice.

The sounds of heavy boots pressing down over old tiles echoed out from the halls, and smoke wafted around the corner and into the room. Whitfield stepped inside with a cigarette pursed in his mouth, but he wasn't completely careless. He had a pistol in his hand, though aimed down at his side. “These three aren't here to fight. Not a chance.”

“Yes, sir,” Taj said as he retreated back to the wall. The men around them lowered their weapons as well.

“Are you the leader here?” Lucy asked.

“That's what I've been told. For now at least. I heard on the phone there that you're here to talk about the attack on Spokane,” he muttered as he leaned down to lift the fallen phone from the ground. He returned it to its dock, but grunted as he made his way back up. “Good. Because when demons start attacking a city in the United States of America, I frankly get a little pissed off.”

“We apologize, but it had nothing to do with us. We might know who, however, and you may have spoken with them already. Have you talked to a demon since then?”

Whitfield grinned. He removed the cigarette from his mouth, and exhaled an extra wide cloud of smoke up towards the ceiling. “What if I have? I have no obligation to share that information.”

“She probably used an avatar. A round, bat-like creature.”

“Maybe I did. I reckon you're looking for them right now.”

“And you're not?”

The man sighed. “Listen here. All of you, out right now.”

One by one the soldiers, even Taj, left them to be once again alone inside. He took one long draw from his smoke, and put it out on the nearby table. As he looked between them all, he raised his fist to his mouth hand began to cough.

“All right. You're chasing the one who attacked my country? Good. But you know what? I've got a job to do here. I'll tell you what, ladies. I can't go and lose everything right now, but I'll tell you the god damn honest truth. I want that demon executed for what she did. I'll broker you a small deal here. Off the record.”

“This whole trip is off the record,” Lucy replied.

“Good. I'll tell you where you might find her. Or, instead, I'll let your two friends go. I can't do both. The higher-ups find out you three came and freed them, they'll be pissed but they'll also understand that I couldn't stop you. If you capture this runaway demon, they might be pissed too. But both? I'll lose my damn head.”

Lucy's fiery glance moved to Kevin only momentarily. “I want her location.”

A strange feeling washed over Kevin. She wasn't there to free him? He was actually happy, as he was about to shout out for them to leave him behind. But on the other hand, he couldn't help but feel a feeling of dread.

Whitfield chuckled, and coughed once again. From his pocket, he removed a pen and paper, and scribbled something down. “Cold. But fair. Here then. Take this. It's your best bet, and trust me when I say I wouldn't lie about this.”

Mara snagged the paper up. Without a second thought, Lucy turned her back, and opened the fissure once more to travel back home. He watched as they entered one by one. First Lucy, then Mara, and finally...

“Where's the third?” he asked. But then his nostrils flared as he saw the item table empty as well as the chair itself. His head snapped back, and Kali was standing alone in front of the glowing fissure with her arm tightly around Kevin's shoulder.

“Bye now!” Kali shouted as she winked. Then, she flipped backwards with her trophy in-hand. He hadn't noticed before it was too late. Before he could do anything, the portal was gone, and it was only him in an empty, quiet room.

***

The man's fist cracked down over Eldrian's head, sending him bleeding to the floor. The man wasn't breaking a sweat. He merely cracked his knuckles, and rolled Eldrian over with end of his boot. The weight of his body pressed down on the wizard's chest as he pinned with down with a foot.

“You try to teleport out? Won't work. Any spell cast at me? I'll break it. We can go on forever. Then I'll bind you, leave, come back, and do it all again. We'll do it until you yourself break, and you tell us everything we want to know. Nobody is coming to rescue you.”

Eldrian clenched his teeth. With a whip of his hand, as quickly as he could, he attempted to flash a blinding explosion up into the man's face. However, his palm was already prepared to stop it entirely. His vision started to blur when the boot collided with his stomach, sliding him into the side of the mattress.

He coughed and climbed on top. Once he regained himself, he turned back to the spellbreaker and backed up against the wall—sweating and exhausted.

“So, how many of you pests are there this time?”

Eldrian stared up. “Plenty.”

“What's that then? Some kind of rebellion?”

“If you call living a rebellion.”

The man laughed boisterously. “If you call being a dangerous freak living. I'll tell you what'll happen. You'll never see any of these friends of yours again. We'll remake you. Built you up better this time. And at the end of it all, it'll be your hands covered in their blood. The truth is this isn't an interrogation. It's preparation. You don't need to tell me a damn thing.”

From his blood-filled mouth, Eldrian let loose a disgusting spit up directly into the man's face. Disgusted, he wipes it off, and immediately stuck out with his hand, expecting a spell. When nothing came, he simply grinned. “If that's all you have left, I guess I won't be able to have much more fun.”

“But we aren't finished yet.”

He gave Eldrian a strange glance. “I might have knocked your brain lose. Or maybe you've just always been crazy. Either way, we certainly can continue.”

“But not for long.”

“And why the hell is that?”

“Because I just won!”

“Wha—“

The man jumped at the sudden explosion. He was watching, however, so he didn't cast a spell. Where did it come from? It was the wall. Somehow, the wall let out a booming shock. All of this thought was too much to comprehend in the span of a second, and before he knew it, the wizard was fired directly at him like a bullet.

There wasn't enough time to react. Eldrian's skull collided directly with his nose with incredible force. He could feel the bridge crumble and break from the impact, and the pain dazed him as he fell back towards the floor. Meanwhile, Eldrian soared over top, motivated by the pain, adrenaline, and determination. And in his hands, he was already prepared with another spell.

[k-peacheees]

Lonesome loving (2) | Mafia!TY

“Being the girlfriend of a mafia boss wasn’t actually the biggest problem contrary to popular beliefs. Well, it kind of was, but not because you feared for your own life. You feared for his life. Being on the outside was fine, you were safe after all, but it also brought a lot of hurting.”

« Part 2 of 3 » | Lonesome loving miniseries

Pairing: Mafia!Taeyong x (Y/N)

Genre: Angst

Warnings: None

Word-count: 1,6 k

The sound of thunder echoed throughout the big villa. The usually calming sound of rain hitting the windows sounded more like the sky crying right now. It hurt. You quickly packed your toothbrush and pulled the zip to close the backpack filled with necessities and clothes. How you came to the idea of running away is still unclear, but you knew you needed some space. 

You threw the backpack over your shoulder, turning around and meeting your own reflection in the mirror staring back at you. Another sound of thunder reached your ears as you could see the sky light up in the corner of your eyes as lightning struck the ground a couple of miles away. You gave yourself a look before huffing.

“It’s not like I’m running away... More like... Taking a break, right?”, you whispered to your own reflection. 

-

“(Y/N)?”

Taeyong hurried down the stairs leading to the hallway on the ground-floor. He quickly scanned the room for your figure. There’s a guestroom down the hallway where you usually hid when you had a fight, maybe you had gone there again after last night’s fight?

Taeyong had stayed up for an hour waiting for you. He could hear how you opened the door to the guestroom downstairs, so he assumed you decided to sleep there that night. When he woke up in the morning he expected to feel you next to him in bed again, like it usually ended up even after fights. Guess his surprise as he had turned around this morning only to be met by the emptiness beside him. Taeyong had quickly gotten out of bed and thrown on the jeans from earlier and begun to search for you.

He turned the corner and saw the brown door leading to the guestroom, closed. He held his breath as he carefully knocked on the wooden door. No one answered him. His hand quickly felt the doorknob and turned it, letting the door slide open.

No one.

He could feel his heart drop. Where the hell could you be? Taeyong could feel panic rise in him. Had you just dumped him here? Had you, left him?

Taeyong fished up his phone from his backpocket and hurriedly pressed contacts and dialed the only person who could help him right now. 

“He better answer”, Taeyong mumbled stressed and pressed the cellphone against his ear. The familiar sound of ringing hit his ear, and he impatiently tapped his foot against the wooden floor as he waited for the man to pick up.

“What do you want this early in the morning?! Do you even know what time it is?! Seven o’clock! S E V E N  O ‘ C L O C K”, a clearly annoyed voice answered on the other end after several signals.

“(Y/N) is missing”

There was a moment of silence. (Y/N), missing, did not seem so good.

“What?”

“(Y/N) is missing”

“She’s missing?”

“For gods sake Doyoung, yes (Y/N) is missing, gone by the wind!”

Taeyong was growing insanely impatient. Doyoung seemed particularly slow for the emergency of situation they had found themselves in. 

“Do we have to put the ‘if (Y/N) gets kidnapped’ plan in to action?”. Doyoung sounded almost... careful.

“I-... I’m not sure if she left me or if someone took her...”, Taeyong confessed. 

“Why would she leave you?”, Doyoung asked, clearly confused by the sudden confession. He could hear Taeyong take in a deep breath, carefully thinking over his words and deciding on how to explain.

“We had a fight... She’s been wanting to join us, and I’ve always told her no. I think I have all right to refuse to let her in, but she seems more hurt about it that I ever though she was. She got upset and asked me if I even trusted her before she stormed out last night.” 

Doyoung nodded his head on the other side, even though Taeyong couldn’t see him, he knew Doyoung’s brain was working at a full speed by now.

“I’ll meet you by your door. Stay at your place in case she shows up. Don’t worry Taeyong. We’ll find her, I promise”, Doyoung finally said before hanging up on his friend. Taeyong looked at his phone screen as the call ended. No missed calls, no texts. No sign of (Y/N). 

“Please be safe”, he whispered before he tucked his phone away and went to stand by the door awaiting his companion.  

- 

You threw your bag onto the small bed in the middle of the room. Out of all places you could have chosen, you had picked a motel. How you came to that decision, isn’t really exactly clear but here you are. 

You took off your drenched jacket and threw it on a chair by a small table close to the door. Your hair was dripping from the rain outside and you could swear that you have blue feet by now due to the cold. The motel was quiet, and not even a car from any motorway could be heard since its location was a little off-road. 

You looked at the clock on the nightstand. Seven in the morning. You had wandered all night until you found a buss stop. You had waited for about 50 minutes before a bus showed up, and you had gotten on it. When you finally arrived at the ending station, you picked up your phone and started to search for nearby motels. The closest one, of course, being a 40 minute walk away from where you were right now. There was surprisingly few motels nearby and long distances between everything, even though Taeyong and yours house wasn’t located in the middle of some sort of nothingness. When you had finally arrived at the motel you had just picked the first room offered and paid for a night before lumping your way towards it. 

The sound of birds singing could be heard outside instead of the furious thunder from last night. The sun had risen, and you were exhausted. You quickly got out of your clothes and made your way towards the bathroom. You turned on the shower and stepped in, letting the warm water pour down over your body and slowly help you regain heat. After a quick shower you slipped on a pair of fresh underwear and a big t-shirt, ironically Taeyong’s, and jumped in bed. It felt... nice. It was peaceful to be alone like this for the moment. You couldn’t deny the nagging feeling in the back of your mind about how Taeyong was handling all of this, but you really needed some time to sort out your thoughts. Maybe you were selfish? 

Thud.

You opened your eyes in surprise and glanced towards the window by the door. The sun was still up. You turned towards the alarm clock. 

“3 in the afternoon”, you mumbled and helped yourself up to a sitting position. As you rubbed your eyes you remembered the sound that had woken you up. You quickly threw the covers of yourself and shuffled towards the door, opening it up so that you could poke your head out.

“Are you okay?”

A boy, probably not much older than yourself, was laying on the ground a few doors away on your right. 

“Yeah, sorry if I scared you”, he huffed before standing up and dusting himself off. “I’m a little clumsy that’s all”

You eyed him up and down before raising an eyebrow.

“No worries”, you simply replied to the tall boy. 

He saw the way you looked at him, making him cross his arms over his chest and give you a look back.

“Curious about something?”

“Not really, just why you’re dressed like you’re some sort of bad guy in an action movie, but otherwise no”

He scoffed at your comment.

“Just because I am wearing a leather jacket and leather gloves? You’ve watched way too many bad action movies. The villains usually look more blended in than this, don’t they?”

You hummed as a response, clearly done with this conversation. You started to slide back into your room as his voice spoke up again.

“You don’t have any band aid, do you?”

You gave him a slight nod, opening up the door a little more to show in that he could come in. You quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and started to search through your bag for a first aid kit. You could hear the boy’s steps behind you as he came to stand by your door. A small red first aid kit came into sight, and you opened it and took out a small bandage before making your way towards the stranger standing by the doorway.

“Here you go”, you said as you handed it over to him.

“Thanks”, he mumbled as he put it on a small wound he must have gotten recently, as it was still a little fresh but not really bleeding right now. 

He lifted his gaze, meeting your eyes for a moment. A small gasp escaped your lips.

“Ha- Have we met before?”, you stuttered. He smirked.

“You’re Taeyong’s girl, right?”

You didn’t dare to answer him. You knew this guy, and it was not because he was one of Taeyong’s workers. This guy was from somewhere else, but you couldn’t remember where you had seen him.

The boy suddenly jolted forward, taking you with him as the door shut behind him and you were thrown on the floor. 

“Get off me!”, you screamed as the boy gripped your arms and pinned you to the carpeted floor.

“What are the odds that we would run into each other like this, sweet (Y/N)”