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the-knight-of-the-stars · 3 months ago

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Soon the world will be ours

Fictober Trope: Uma/Jay — I Have Nothing by Whitney Houston —Urban Fantasy AU

Part I: What me, a traitor?

School nights were always strange. No matter how mundane, there was always a strange, volatile feeling floating between the traffic noises, the barking of the dogs and the chirping of cicadas. As if such a moment had magical properties of its own. A particularly crude kind of magic, with the smell of car oil and old paint peeling from the humidity.

Uma was sure that in a small, remote town like this, the feeling was due to abandonment. It slowly took over the houses and the people, and left a vague premonitory feeling that one day no one would remember this place, it would remain as nothing more than a ghost in their memory.

On a Friday like this, six thirty in the afternoon, trying to understand the complicated words in her textbook, the orange sun of the sunset beating down on her face, Uma feeling the proximity of the night tickling the back of her neck. A Friday like all the Fridays in the world, all coexisting at that very moment.

“Due to the multi-diverse nature of a supercomposite spell, all original components must be taken into account both individually and collectively, and how each set interacts with its components to create a new product.”

Instead of concentrating on the assignment, Uma often found herself wandering about the complicated nature of these texts, wondering how the people who wrote them had learned all that and then decided that redundant words and confusing phrasing were the correct way to convey the information.

Uma threw her book into her backpack and peered through the cracks in the blinds. The sun had set, and Uma felt a surge of voltage zip through her chest. In the dim light of her room, the posters of horror movies and pop band albums were distorted by the dim light, shifting watercolor shadows. Uma threw her jacket over her shoulders and bounded down the stairs.

“Uma! You better not run out like that tomorrow, I told you I need you to take the night shift,” the voice of her mother, Ursula, came from the cracked pool in the backyard where she spent her afternoons in her octopus form, trying to reach the sensation of the waves in that lime-smelling water.

Uma opened the front door with more force than necessary, making noise so her mother would know she had heard her.

“And those dishes ain’t gonna wash themselves!”

Share my life Take me for what I am 'Cause I'll never change All my colors for you

The entire galaxy spilled out into the sky. Uma tried to mentally name every color in the night sky as she sped along on her bike, dodging potholes as the wind whispered the neighborhood gossip into her ear.

Turquoise, purple, royal blue. Flush! The clouds seemed to melt between the stars like colorful cotton candy. Tina still hasn't picked up the laundry from the dry cleaner. Ahead were the downtown stores with their buzzing signs and the apartment buildings lighting up window by window. Pastel pink, mint green, scarlet red. Johnny wants to quit his job.

The familiarity of the city squeezed her heart like one of her mother’s hugs. Invasive, uncomfortable, deeply comforting. She wanted to pull away immediately and reject the warmth, but it was too comfortable, too sweet in all its suffocating nature.

A Friday like every other Friday. The buildings were grey, their windows emanating the warm amber of the interior. The shops were colorful and children with sticky hands escaped from their mothers to peer into the shop windows. New televisions were displayed next to outdated models of never-sold vacuum cleaners.

On the avenue, middle-class kids passed by, crowding around Anthony Tremaine's yellow convertible. The extra-large horns blared and made everything jump. The old man from the butcher shop came out in a huff, shouted a spell in Latin at them, and the yellow car swayed as if a giant hand had shaken it.

Uma turned into an alley between buildings and braked. The metal door, hidden between the trash cans, was closed, so she knocked into it hard. Desirée opened it, a scarf in her hair and a tray under her arm.

"It’s rush hour. You’ll have to take the service stairs, boss,” she said.

Inside, steam from the stove made the waiters sweat and grease from the fryer stuck to the walls. Uma crossed the kitchen and ran upstairs, where the noise from the cafeteria grew old and distant.

Harry had his head buried in wires, a pen behind each ear. He reached for the screwdriver and scratched his head, trying to remember which wires to save first if the circuits had been compromised. The constant beeping of the power center was starting to drive him mad.

“Shut. Up! ”

“Harry!”

He jumped up, inadvertently dropping pens, paper notes, wires, and tools onto the floor. A screw rolled to Uma's feet. She closed the door and picked it up. She had already put her gloves on, Harry noticed.

Take my love I'll never ask for too much Just all that you are And everything that you do

“Missing me?”

“Uma,” he said, his crooked grin reaching down to his pointed, dented ears. “What are you, an evil elf?” Uma had said to him the first time they’d met. “No, sadly,” Harry had replied. “I’m only human.”

Still, Uma was sure there was some spooky mysticism to him. She liked that.

“Are we all set?”

“I don't do tools work, and they left me alone,” Harry replied, emerging from the nest of cables he had found himself in, grumbling.

“ Chill. Gil is on his way.”

“It’s been unbearable,” Harry continued, shaking his head.

Uma dropped into the swivel chair in front of the main panel and looked at the screens that filled the wall and illuminated that room of sad objects and forgotten dreams. Shadows of boxes looming between the computers. One, two, three screens out of service. That left them with two channels unreachable.

But at least four monitors were transmitting the desired images. Live television projecting its greenish light dots across the thick screen. Romance movies, animal life documentaries, a report on the governor of Camelot. The usual for Auradon's open television.

She smiled as she identified the target for the evening. Auradon TV, the only channel that all televisions on the Island tuned into. The only one the Isle's population could access without hacking and piracy. They were now broadcasting their usual afternoon gossip show, recounting all the drama between Princess Melody and the outdated dress she had worn to the most recent ball.

Adam kept saying the reason no other channels reached the Isle was an inescapable peculiarity of the air around that zone. They would fix it, eventually, even if they haven’t been able in more than ten years. Now Uma knows for sure it is a lie.

How perfectly convenient. The population he wants more eagerly to keep isolated stays in the dark, unable to learn anything about the outside world. The only window to the rest of Auradon being the mindless, carefully constructed view they want them to have of them. Another gear on his propaganda machine.

But if Adam won't give them more windows, Uma will poke as many wholes as necessary.

“How long until the transmission loads?”

“I'm not sure, love. If Gil were here…”

“Relax, Harry,” she said, and was surprised by her own optimistic tone. “We can wait for him.”

She sat back on the chair, caressing the surface of the keyboard. Any of the channels Gil had gained access to would do. They were all knowledge, and it was their mission to give it back to the villain children, piece by piece.

I don't really need to look Very much further I don't wanna have to go Where you don't follow

Harry scooted his chair over to Uma’s and dropped his head into her lap. “We make a mess tonight, darling.”

Uma pressed her forehead to Harry's. His skin was dry and cold, contrary to her, cheeks flushed and hair warm from the last sunset rays. His hair still smelled like the damp, dense air of the lagoon. Through it, Uma could picture his father's boat; heavy, worn out fiberglass, rocking in the clogged murky waters, the bitter smell of alcohol and resentment of its walls.

“You bet we do.”

She pulled away, and with her finger traced a sigil over his face, his chin, his nose, his forehead. For a second it sparkled, like miniature fireworks between them.

“What was that for?”

“Protection,” Uma said. “There's been more vandalizing lately, I don't want you to get cursed.”

It was almost true—Hook's ship was already covered in sigil graffiti everywhere—but if she's being honest, Uma hoped the sigil would also scare away the deadly melancholy that plagues his father.

Harry stayed still, staring at her.

“What?”

Harry smiled. “Your face… it shimmers.”

“You pick today's program,” Uma answered, rolling her eyes.

Harry’s eyes glowed and widened like a cat’s. The greenish lights of the monitor loomed over him, accentuating the shadows of his smile. “A horror movie!”

“Perfect,” Uma said, letting out the shadow of a laugh. “Just in time for Halloween.”

The door busted open. Gil walked in with an electrifying grin and pounced on the available chair, sliding over to where they were. His hands and face were covered in car grease, his faded Sherwood Forest Falcons shirt permeated with the smell of gasoline.

“You guys are not gonna believe who I just saw outside!”

“You were supposed to be here hours ago!” Harry exclaimed, getting up and gesticulating toward the screen.

Gil's smile seemed nailed to his skin with how stretched and immovable it was. Harry's words flew over him.

“Carlos de Vil!”

Harry's eyes went white in an expression that was half nervous twitch, half sneer. Uma just stared, very still.

“Really?” she said.

“He was just walking with Professor Yen Sid on the street! I told Jonas to follow him, we should kidnap him!”

That caught Harry's attention more. He smiled and shook Gils' shoulders, excitement growing on his chest.

“Aye, that's a great idea! We could broadcast him to Auradon and scare the whole bloody kingdom off their skin…”

The tinge of anger in his voice lit a spark in his eyes, and he stood up straight, triumphant in a sort of superhero pose. Uma could feel all his illusions, flying around in a whirlwind inside his head.

“We could…” Uma whispered, tapping on the arm of the chair.

But something worried her. Her eyes narrowed in thought. Carlos de Vil. Yen Sid. They hadn't heard anything about it, neither on the news channels nor on the gossip channels. Why would he come back?

Carlos had his precious passport, a scholarship at Auradon Prep, and a life that had been as far removed from the Island as humanly possible. The mother he left behind has long since sunk under the weight of her own bitterness. The town had forgotten her, along with the ramshackle house with rusty hinges and rotten wood that the blizzards tear apart little by little, and where Cruella remained as if the house had become part of her.

There's nothing left for Carlos here. Nor for any of them.

“He didn't come alone, did he?” Uma said, unable to stop the anger seeping into her voice. “They must have come with him.”

As if responding to that omen, the small transmitter hanging around Harry's neck began to make noise.

“… oss I… th …” a voice started to come through the wall of static, and Harry ripped it off to move the antenna.

“First Mate here, over.”

The static answered her, ominous in the deathly silence their nervousness had created. Uma held her breath until they heard the click on the other end.

“… nas here… er you, over.”

Jonas's voice was much clearer now, and Uma immediately noticed that he was whispering. Like he was hidden.

“Captain…” Jonas said, breathing slowly over the radio. “Just spotted Jay in a bar…”

I won't hold it back again This passion inside Can't run from myself There's nowhere to hide

Her heart dried up and tightened like a raisin. It felt stupid, to care so much. Gil and Harry's faces told her everything, trying to hide the disappointment they still felt like a sore that never fully healed.

The veil of years and forgotten dreams passed before her eyes like the halo of a ghost. A sentimentality that she felt ashamed of still treasuring, in the memory of eyes and a laugh and a voice that were no longer there. He might as well be dead, with how much his absence had penetrated.

And it was strange, how far away it felt. Uma remembered the greenish light of the store filtering in distorted halos through the fish tanks. The shadows of Christmas lights that were never taken down, gathering dust between the old cat cages. The glitter-covered plastic floor and the ghostly sight of the life-size cardboard cutout of King Adam by the cash register.

She remembered arriving with nervous aggression, squeezing his house keys in her hand until they made indentations on the palm. He saw her first, through a space between the fish tanks. He was smiling when Uma looked at him.

“You have my mother’s eels,” she had said coldly, without any pretense of formality.

It had taken Jay a few seconds to react, staring into her eyes.

“Hey, the name's Jay.”

He was leaning against a shelf of fish food, a half-smile slightly crooked by a fresh cut in the middle of his lip. He was all ragged baggy jeans and frizzy strands of hair over small, mischievous eyes.

“Don't worry, I'm a great eel dad,” he said, raising an eyebrow with that ridiculous, charming smile.

He spent the afternoon in the back room of the pet shop convincing her that the eels were safe with him and was not intimidated by her stoicism. He was energetic, daring and shameless.

“You could say we have an electric bond; do you feel me?”

The first thing Uma thought of him was that he had a stupid laugh, muffled by a teenage cough and infinitely confident. The second thing was that Jay gave off the same chaotic air as Harry. A strange aggression barely contained in the tension of his muscular arms. Jay handed her a handful of powdered eel food for the two of them to throw into the fish tank. Lagan and Derelict put their snouts to the glass as soon as Jay approached them.

“Check it out, they love me already,” he said, genuinely excited. “You see, I happen to be a professional heartbreaker.”

He gave Uma a wink, and she allowed the shadow of a smile to pull from her lips.

Uma is still not sure why she came back many times after and sat on the plastic box next to the empty cages that smelled of wet dog, feeding the eels while Jay flirted tirelessly until the heat of the evening steamed the puddles on the floor and the place became stifling.

Harry's initial jealousy only exacerbated Jay's brazenness. He waited for her outside school, biting his lip, anxiously awaiting the moment when he could jump into a spot next to them on the sidewalk and steal some attention.

“What a coincidence to see you here, must be fate.”

“Hey, gorgeous, I thought I could come by and bring you this super cool ring I found, you know, it just reminded me of you.”

“If I ever find that damn lamp, I'm going to wish to be the earth you step on, sweetheart.”

They never knew when the distrust faded. Harry began to let go of the initial bitterness through the fake fights he had with him, in which Jay was unable to take anything seriously and Harry took everything with great personal seriousness. Punches turned into laughter and accidental enthusiasm for the same things.

In no time Harry was all over Jay. Hugs that from the outside looked a little too restraining, hands casually resting around his neck. Always with his hands on him. Invasive affection still tinted in aggression, but unmistakably friendly.

Gil was charmed from the start. He would laugh at Jay's bad jokes and give him a pat on the back that took all the air out of him, until they were both pushing each other.

“Bro, you should do parkour with me!”

It was a terrible idea. But Uma had never seen Gil so excited, even when he fell off roofs and slipped off walls a hundred times. Afterwards, they sat in the park with its rickety swings and yellow grass, their faces covered in bruises, sharing a comically large bag of cheap snacks that tasted like cardboard Jay had stolen from Facilier's store.

Don't make me close one more door I don't wanna hurt anymore

Jay fit in with them like a piece they didn't know was missing, slipping slowly through the cracks until he penetrated their barriers. Suddenly, he was there. Another body to hug, another loud voice, another name ever present in the back of their minds. His aggressive energy matched their own, growing and boiling until they were drunk in it.

Professional thieves wrecking everything on their path. Jay, enthusiastic show off and seasoned kleptomaniac, would get them in trouble constantly, getting too comfortable in his craft and stopping mid-chase to collect anything shiny he thought Uma would like. But he would always come through; he was good at it, terribly, stupidly good. It seemed there was nothing he couldn't get away with.

It's probably one of the first things that caught Mal's eye (another ghost from Uma's past, another rip in her heart), and made her want him in her gang again, like when they were little kids. Uma never thought he would take up her offer.

That's how secure their wrap felt. Living in a haze of blood and party and recklessness that for some inexplainable reason was the safest place they knew.

An irrational, resentful part of her thought she should have known. After all, Jay was raised to be a snake.

But it is hard to reconcile it. For a second, their lives had felt tethered forever, and maybe they still were. With how much his ghost still lingered, despite their best efforts to ignore it.

Stay in my arms if you dare Or must I imagine you there

There is something unforgettable in the way Jay looked at her. Like all misery was worth looking into her eyes. Uma was made of rough edges, a bellicosity deep in her bones that made her hungry for power. Back then, Uma couldn't understand the depts of that anger that threatened to break her apart.

But Jay had. He pushed back her, dug right into her spikes and revealed in her darkness, seeing through her and wanting her with every fiber of his being.

“I know you love me, babe,” he would say, getting his face too close to her and laughing ecstatically when she grabbed his chin in an iron grip.

Uma didn't want to think about how much she had liked it. That pull and back that turned into attachment that turned into yearning. Uma doesn't know when it is she let Jay invade her every breath. Her mother's indifference, the phantom of the family's greatness, the wound of having been born helpless; it all disappeared under his touch. And for Jay, she made the devastating anger and the parasitic loyalty to Jafar and the helpless prospect of the future all turned little.

This youthful, blurring love affair was all that existed. Uma still has his adoration burned into her mind. Carnal, careful touches over the stiff sheets of her bed, her lava lamp barely breaking through the hazy darkness of that night, starts and ashes of magic floating all around them. Reverence glimmering in Jay's eyes, amid this suffocating intimacy, kissing her neck and stroking down her legs and whispering, “Uma… Uma… Uma.”

Like he needed to summon her at every second. Like her presence was as fleeting as a sea wave, and Jay would cling to her, desperate to inhale her for as long as she would have him.

Harry could never forgive him for hurting her. For not answering Gil's calls. For leaving them. Like her, Harry still has Jay's kiss tattooed on his skin.

This hatred and hurt that now blinded them, as the static on the radio kept buzzing, a blur of past present and future liquefying on the blinding blue glow of the screens, it could only come from something just as strong. And maybe that was the worst part of it all:

It had been real.

And he still had left.

“Jonas,” Uma said, voice firm as iron. “Size the little birdy; he has a show to perform.”

Don't walk away from me I have nothing, nothing, nothing If I don't have you, you, you, you, you, you

***

This is strange, right? I'm still trying to strech my abilities after a long health issue that prevented me from writting, but I liked this.

Okey, hi, thanks for reading. This was one several drafts I left abandoned last year when I was trying once again to do fictober (that is clearly not for me) but I thought this October I would try to come back to them. Basically I put spotify to reproduce songs from my playlist on a random order and the first four would be paired with whatever character/ship I thought of first.

Some really unique ideas came from that, such as this one. The flavor of the song inspired me to make an urban fantasy amd I tried to give it a kind of an 80s coming of age romance feel.

This has two other parts planned, exploring more of Mal and Jay's perspective. Tell me if you would like to see those and the other songfics I had, and what you think of this weird little thing I made.

#disney descendants #descendants #descendants disney #uma descendants #uma daughter of ursula #jay son of jafar #harry hook #uma/jay #jay/uma #juma #huma #fictober

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theredwritingwitch · 1 year ago

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Apollo is Dark

Pairing: Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: On the morning of launch day of the Apollo 12 mission, a storm brews through Cape Canaveral, stirring up trouble for launch but also a grim start for Tim Rockford’s newest case: the disappearance of your sister and her family. On a rainy day in November, a day written in the history books, you and Tim also discovery something out of this world.

Word Count: 22K

Warnings: Missing family, thunderstorm, curse words, sci-fi horror, body horror, death/sacrifice (not main character though), gun, PinV sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering

Ratings: Mature

Note: Robert’s chant at the end is from a poem called The Old Astronomer to His Pupil by Sarah Williams.

Cold Signals on Launch Day

Nov. 14, 1969. Cape Canaveral, Florida

This was not a good day for a launch. But it was a perfectly fine day as any to solve a case. At least that’s what Detective Tim Rockford thought. Palm trees swayed and braced their roots to the ground as sheets of rain beat over and over their long limbs. The midday sun was hidden behind large green and gray cumulonimbus clouds that traveled through the dark sky. The day was early, 11 in the morning but lunch break was still a ways away. Tim had rushed into the large front door of the Spanish style house, dodging sweeps of rain and wind, and excused his drenched look as he entered. The quiet house greeted him first as you closed the door behind him.

“No use apologizing for the rain detective, it’ll drown out your sorrows anyday.”

Tim undid his trench coat and hung up his hat. Your solemn tone grabbed his attention.

“Still no use causing a mess inside the house,” Tim gave you a small smile. You only returned a nod to him.

“Well, welcome to my sister’s abode. If she were here she would offer you a cup of warm tea or coffee, probably even offer you a bowl of soup.”

Tim watched you as you wiped up some of the water from the floor with a spare towel. The rest of the house looked well lived in. Shoes were piled near the door, half empty drinks sat on the coffee table, loose sheets of homework lay on the dining table. You tossed the used towel into a basket of laundry that sat in the hall. A small layer of dust collected on the bookshelves, just as dishes sat idle in the sink. It was a quaint chaos of home-life that greeted the detective. It looked like a normal suburban family home; only missing one thing though.

You looked quite put together for someone whose family was missing. Your hair was styled well, your makeup right on point. Even your clothes looked well ironed and pressed. Tim had to admit to himself that you were a lot more put together than he was, and if he was less of a man he would have thought you were too well put together. But the small fidgets of your hands, running up and down your clothes, straightening yourself out, made it obvious to him that you may be on the verge of breaking. That and the call you two shared earlier in week devastated his heart as he heard you gasp and slow your breathing down when you told him the facts of the disappearances.

Now you were peering up at him with eyes that just barely held back the panic scream that you so obviously wanted to let out.

“Well let’s not wait any longer. Let’s get started then,” Tim reassured you as he squeezed your shoulder. You nodded and gestured towards the stairs.

“I thought the best place would be to look at my brother-in-law’s office. James practically lived in the room full time. My sister spent a lot of time there as well.”

“You said over the phone there weren’t any marital problems?”

“Correct, they got along well together. You see they’re both space cadets. Just obsessed with the sky and stars, like everyone else in this town,” you commented as you climbed the stairs with Tim trailing behind.

“James’ work for NASA took him back and forth from Houston to here, but he always preferred Florida.”

“Because his parents lived here.”

“Right. My sister Ruth liked it for the view,” you stated as you opened the office door. Tim was greeted by a large screen door that looked towards the Cape, an easy view of the rocket launch. “We’ll be able to see the Apollo 12 launch from here.”

“If they launch today.” Tim replied as he watched the wind plow more sheets of rain at the house.

“Guess we’ll find out.” He glanced upon your illuminated face as you turned on the lamp. You sounded so reserved for something so president for the human race, given the circumstances though, Tim thought it better as to not bring it up.

“You said James’ parents lived here with him and your sister?”

“Correct. Their room is on the main floor.”

“And the police have no leads on where they went either?”

“They said they’re looking in the local wildlife preserves, guess they believe the elderly are prone to driving off the road.”

“Could be,” Tim noticed the huff you let out, “They’re car is still here, isn’t it?”

“It is.” You eyed Tim with an exasperated look, “All their cars are here.”

The office was a rather small room and stuffy, a few lamps lighting the paneled walls of the room. A small whiff of smoke was held in the air yet Tim didn’t see any cigarettes. Two desks filled the majority of the cramped room out in an “L” shape. A small chair fit into the opposite corner of the room near a small corner table. File cabinets filled the rest of the walls, some drawers open with overstuffed folders, while other drawers were unable to open from their packed supplies. A large tan, boxy computer sat on the desk, a black screen on display. The keyboard itself looked disheveled. The rest of the desk was covered in files, charts, notes, and sketches. The last two objects in the room were a large telescope that looked outside the glass doors and a radio propped on top of a file cabinet that softly filtered some static through the air as quiet voices of a local station tried relentlessly to busting through the static.

Tim’s eyes roamed the room again and again, “Keys are missing on the keyboard. Computer is covered in smudges. There’s a stack of half filled cups on that far off table. That telescope looks broken.” Finally his eyes trained back to you, “Are they normally a messy couple?”

“No, they were always so put together. I didn’t know this place was a mess till they were gone,” you said as you were a bit taken aback by his quick analysis.

“You said they both worked here together?” Tim asked as he looked over at the cups and plates leftover the table and desk.

“Right, they honestly worked well together too. I couldn’t tell you what they worked on specifically. They were always leagues ahead of any of our minds. But together they were on the same level.” You stood in the corner of the room, out of the detective’s way.

“And how were they with the kids?”

“Normally they were all about the kids. Ruth and James loved them to pieces, loved teaching them anything they could. But I know from the notes left over in the kitchen that they left the kids with James’ parents a lot lately.”

“That was unusual,” Tim stated as he looked at you for confirmation.

“Correct, they hardly asked for babysitters. And James’ parents are a bit too old to keep up with the kids. Really, the grandparents lived here so James and Ruth could take care of them.”

“So they were potentially extremely absorbed by something particular then.”

You agreed with the detective’s assessment, he had only skimmed over the surface of the office before making a precise conclusion.

“I assume the police already took a look at the computer?” Tim asked as he sat down.

“They did. Didn’t seem to take much time on the thing though. Said all the files looked too…” you trailed off.

“Too nonsensical to the average mind.”

“Something like that.”

“Well, let’s see if I can make heads or tails of it.”

“Think you’ve got the mind of a scientist or engineer, detective?”

Tim turned to you, liking that the dreary tone you had earlier was fading ever so slowly and replaced with something a bit more pleasant, at the very least.

“We’re about to find out,” he said in a hushed tone for only you to hear.

You watched the detective turn to the computer again, missing the kind smile he had flashed you. There was part of you that wanted to tell the detective he had a nice smile. Part of you wanted to bask in a little bit of kindness before heading straight towards more disappointment that you were sure this case would be full of. It had been weeks since your sister disappeared with her family and in-laws, was it so wrong for you to want just a little bit of something good? Rolling your eyes at yourself, you leaned on the desk, avoiding the eyes of the faces of your missing family that hung on the wall. Were you really thinking about flirting with the detective that you hired to find your family? You couldn’t believe your own audacity. And of all the places, here in the house of your lost sister, right where she and her beloved husband would spend hours and hours cultivating their passion. You resigned yourself back to the fog that you had been living in the last few weeks, the disappearance of your family was important, not your need for companionship.

While watching Tim click the power button a few times all for the screen to sit black and empty, your eyes trained on his large hands as they skimmed over the edges of the computer feeling for the plugs. His broad shoulders made it hard for him to look behind the computer, which made you chuckle, gaining a quick grin and glance from Tim. Heat surged through your veins, a mixture of shame and pleasure hitting you. Quickly getting out of your own mind, you cleared your throat as Tim shook his head to the black screen as a few numbers and words popped on the screen before that suddenly blink out.

“Perks of being with NASA?” Tim asked as he looked under the desk.

“Apparently, admittedly I’m still partial to the typewriter.”

“Same here,” he laughed and you chuckled with him.

Tim knelt down to the floor, finding a small pillar of smoke coming out of the wall socket of the computer’s plug.

“Thought I smelled something. Looks like the computer is a dead end. I’m good at deciphering clues but I’m no technician.” He watched the small smile that graced your face from earlier fall. Cursing himself, he stood and gave you a reassuring nod to the stack of papers on the desk. “It looks like this was something they were working on last though, maybe it held their attention the most. Let’s take a look.”

Watching him look over the paperwork, you grimaced as he thumbed through it, “Good luck with that, the gibberish shorthand was illegible to the cops and even their NASA colleagues.”

Thumbing through the notes, you were right, Tim couldn’t translate the shorthand. They contained many passages of normal English letters and words and then slowly turned into strange symbols and markings that were sometimes crossed off or circled. Since the notes weren’t legible, Tim found his eyes wandering to the many sketches on the notes. Dotted lines, circles, and what Tim thought were measurements marked the pages.

“The cops said it was work jiberish, but the NASA engineers said it looked like games for the kids.”

Tim looked up at your pensive face, you still stood in the corner of the room until you slowly walked to the desk, opposite of him. “And what do you think they are?” he asked.

“A compass.” The detective looked over the cross marks again. You said it so matter factly.“My sister had a small compass necklace that James gave her for their last anniversary.”

Tim looked back down at the sketches, then at you. “Just look closely at the dots and lines, you can see the arrows,” you continued.

“You know this case better than anyone else, don’t you?” Tim smiled.

A large sigh left you, “Ruth and I were close growing up and even close now. We talked every week, even when we were miles apart. Family is important to us, so we always kept in close contact even when we had our disagreements. We were inseparable as kids, but then we found our own pursuits as adults. I found work, she found a husband.” You sounded small as you recollected this to him.

“You didn’t like James?” Tim prompted as he gathered more parts of the notes.

“ Oh, James was nice enough to me, perfectly polite, so all in all he was fine.” You waved your hand through the air to wave the thoughts away. “The first time I met him I could tell how well they got on with each other. You know, for how close my sister and I were, we never had our own language as they did. Could never keep up with their talks and ideas. They were happy. Even happier when they had the kids.” You watched Tim organize the notes into piles.

“Just the two kids right?”

“Daniel and Donna. Sweet kids, wicked smart too,” you had made your way to the screen doors now. The small balcony outside the room was littered with leaves and sticks.

“Just like their parents then.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly until you piped back up, “James and Ruth loved making up games for them, wanted to make sure the kids were always stimulated. That’s why the NASA brainiacs thought these were just games for the kids. James was always talking about the family.”

“These don’t look like games,” Tim frowned down at his work.

“That’s what I told the cops, I’ve seen their games and they look nothing like these…drawings?” you paused as you looked back down at the notes that Tim had arranged.

“Not a compass, but close.”

You returned to the desk, leaning over Tim’s shoulder, to view the mess in front of him. The pieces of paper before you were rotated and layer on top of each other. Dotted lines as well as solid lines traced out circles and plotted out layers of what seems to be contour lines of depth. Illegible symbols line the top and sides of the map. More symbols were scratched into the margins of the map as some were written in the small spaces of the latitude and longitude lines. Angled pieces of overlapped paper intersect to form several points of interest: a small anomaly followed by a dotted line, a cluster of blurry signals, and a large dark curling and swirling mass.

“Nice eyes detective,” you whispered as you leaned over his shoulder to see his work. Tim agreed with your assessment, it was rare that he got a compliment in his field of work. He was always expected to do his best no matter the situation. But it felt good to him to have your attention. He smiled as the whiff of your perfume, sandalwood and lily, caught his nose. He quickly remembered that he was working, your family had completely disappeared for weeks now, he chided himself to refocus.

"It's a bit of a crude assembly of a map. Things seem a bit out of proportion," Tim grumbled as he switched around a few skewed pieces of the puzzle.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, "Detective, this whole house seems like some sort of crude puzzle right now."

"How so, apart from the obvious?"

Taking a step away from the detective, you looked out the screen door.

"Let's start with the outside first. You wouldn't have noticed it on a day like today, but the yard is only partially mowed." Tim rose from his seat to look at the lawn. Under the sharp strike of lightning, he could see the diagonal and mismatched stripes of mowed lawn. Curved lines ran through shaggy areas of grass and weeds. There were even small circular areas where the grass withered away to a crisp yellow death.

"As long as I've known James, he was always particular on the lawn."

"What else is off?"

"Their books are out of order, normally they are sorted by genre then author. But now they're all out of place and missing whole chunks of pages."

Tim looked back at the desk to the map. The scattered pieces of paper were all from different books, none repeating the same title or author.

"You'll find more pages stuffed in the cupboards of the kitchen, in the toilets, even in the frames of the photos," you announced as you pointed to a family photo on the wall. Tim opened the back of the frame to find more loose pages of different books flattened behind the photo.

"You've been in every corner of this house then," Tim closed the frame and placed it back on the wall as he looked over the family photo. Four smiling faces. Sweaters clean, dresses pressed, not a single bit out of place.

"Well when you find the food jarred up and placed in the closets while the clothes are neatly folded into the freezer; you tend to start looking at everything a little harder."

Tim frowned, "And how did the police explain that one?"

"Weird science experiment. But NASA says it's personal research. They're all too worked up about today's launch,” you scuffed and rolled your eyes.

“Anyone else's problem but theirs, right?” Tim already knew the song and dance. Blame shifting and subverting responsibilities was why he got jobs in the first place.

"As always." Your heartbreak broke Tim's investigation of the room.

You were just holding yourself together, just enough to get by. There was a slight tremor in your voice that was also brought out in the shaking of your fingers as you brushed your hair back in place. Even your eyes looked about the room for something steady to grasp on.

Tim's hand grasped yours. You grasped at the sudden touch and looked up at his deep set brows and firm lips. The wrinkles of his forehead and eyes expanded. Even as determination covered the detective's face, you couldn't look away from the softness of his chocolate eyes.

"I won't be like them. I'm not going to leave you with little to no answers. That's not how I work, and I swear by the time I'm done, no matter how long it takes, I'll have an answer for you on where your family is." Tim stepped into your space and held your elbows in his hands as his thumbs made small circles into your skin, "We'll find them, no matter where they are."

You gave him a small, numb nod that made his own sweet eyes haze in worry.

"In whatever condition they may be in as well," you whispered just before Tim pulled you into a hug. He couldn't stand to hear you say that, even if it was true. You were so lost and on your own. All other cases Tim had worked, the people who called him had some sort of support system. But here you were, alone in the storm.

You couldn't help yourself, even as you pressed yourself deeper into his hold under the black and white smiling faces of your lost relatives. You didn't dare look at the family picture as Tim's cologne overwhelmed your senses. You happily let him in. Inhaling the woods and cinnamon smell deeply, Tim’s hands moved over your back . He tucked your face into his neck, feeling the worry and stress develop out of your body as you continued to lean into him, pressing your weight into his chest. The radio sang out the sweet melody of “Lie-la-lie-lie-lie-lie-lie” in between breaks of fuzzy frequency, that was only drowned out by Tim’s heartbeat. Feeling him inhale and exhale, you closed your eyes and slipped a little into the pleasant and cozy darkness of the cocoon that Tim’s arms offer. For his part, Tim followed you into that sweet obscurity, leaning his head onto your, swaying to a drowsy beat of his own.

Thunderously, a sudden rumble in the distance echoed to the house, only gaining volume as it continued to sound off. Shocked, the two of you broke apart from each other as the rumble took over the walls of the home, shaking the fan and light above the two of you and rattling the frames off the wall. Tim held you close to him as you both crouched to the ground. One arm circled around your back as the other steadied the two of you on the floor. The cabinets near the wall shook forward just as a bright light entered through the glass doors. Looking up, you and Tim saw the assent of the Apollo 12 rocket blast off into the atmosphere.

You slowly stood placing your hands on the waving glass of the doors in front of you, Tim keeping a hand on your back as you both watched bright yellow fire soar through the stormy sky.

“Off to the moon,” Tim murmured behind you.

You nodded, “History in the making.”

“I listened to the first one launch on the radio, but I didn’t know about the shock wave that followed the blast off.”

“It’s not usually that intense,” you shifted in your spot as the rocket went higher and higher. The wind of the thunderstorm still swept through the air, sending gusts of wind against the windows even as the bright light of the rocket rammed its way through the storm.

“I didn’t think they would actually launch today.”

“Neither did I, guess they just decided—'' your train of thought was stopped when a blast of silver lightning rocked the house, lighting the sky up, and striking the ascending rocket. Both you and Tim gasped as the thunder of the storm echoed through the house, drowning out the rambles of the rocket. The light of the office and in the rest of the house blinked on and off until they finally all blinked off, sending the house into darkness. The buzzing of the radio fell silent to a wave of rumbles of the storm. You watched as the rest of the neighborhood fell into the same darkness as you, losing power one by one.

“Maybe that’s why they should’ve rescheduled it. Damn,” Tim came to your side to crane his neck to watch the rocket further.

“This didn’t happen the other times they launched.”

“Have they launched in a storm before?”

“I don’t remember, but I’ve never heard about the power going out because of a launch.”

“Maybe the storm has something to do with that. I bet NASA has their own backup power for an event like this,” Tim said as he patted your back and shifted back to the office.

“I would hope so.” You bit your lip as Apollo 12 blinked out of sight and out of atmosphere.

“They probably have numerous backup plans in place for an event like this.” Tim wished he had a backup plan himself. He didn’t expect to be so pulled towards you. He needed to get his shit together and get on with this search. That was the point of this whole situation, not to take advantage of some lonely woman with a missing sister and family. The best thing he could do for you, to help you, was not hold your hand in the dark but to get to work. “I’ve got a flashlight in the pocket of my trench coat, I’ll go grab it.”

You watched the detective quickly leave the room, missing the weight of his hands on you. Another flash of lightning soared through the room, drawing your attention to the picture frames that fell to the floor from the rumbles earlier. Picking them up and placing them back on the wall, your mind ran through the last conversations you had with your sister. She was such a determined force, always on the verge of something spectacular, an eureka moment. And she was always so good at making every moment a eureka moment, big or small, any event for her was an event of a lifetime. You were always happy for her, truly she deserved the world, but there was a part of you that yearned for what she had. Not specifically the life, the family, or job, but the eureka moment. You wanted that moment where everything came together, everything made sense, all your work paid off. You strived for the success that she had, you were still striving for success even as you heard the footsteps of the detective you hired enter the room.

Tim’s flashlight spun around the room, before settling on you.

“So,” Tim's gravely voice filtered into the room, giving you a sense of security as you stood in the dark room alone, “If we want to find a pair of space enthusiasts, we have to think like space enthusiasts.”

You raised your eyebrow as you watched Tim strive over to the telescope, giving it a look over.

“This isn’t a very good model for stargazing,” Tim spoke as he looked into the scope. “A bit of a step back for a couple of researchers.”

“Old world mixed in with the new,” you shrugged. “Gifts from relatives abroad. I’ve never seen them use it though.”

“Perhaps it’s more for looks than for work?” Tim moved his flashlight over the small golden plate around the barrel of the scope.

“Property of C.C.A.P.O.” Tim looked back at you. “Do you know what that stands for?” Shaking your head no to him, he continued on, “We’ll have to keep that in mind. How long have they worked for NASA?”

“James has been there for over 10 years now. Ruth has been there maybe a year now, after James convinced her to apply for a job.”

“What did she do before that?”

“She did a lot of different things,” you sighed as you sat down in the desk chair. “Ruth volunteered at the kid’s school, worked at a museum, spent hours as a typist, had a writing gig for a time, and even took a few classes for nursing, but she always made time to help James with his research and calculation.”

Tim hummed and wrote down the initials and then paced over to the scattered pages of literature that made up the map.

“Do you have tape around here? I’d like to tape all these pages together,” Tim asked as he popped the end of the flashlight in his mouth to free his hands.

You scrambled to pull out a roll of tape and began helping the detective place piece by piece of yellowed tape on the ripped pages. Carefully sticking the tap down around written parts of the map, the two of you slowly pulled the puzzle together. There was a steady beat of rain against the glass window of the balcony door, that slowly dulled just as the tape roll got smaller and smaller.

It wasn’t till near the end of the roll that you heard it. The storm was starting to settle down, the rain beat a quiet constant trickle without the rumbles of thunder. But now that the storm had dulled down, a new sound thumped through the house. It wasn’t new to you, though it was still unknown. You had heard it a few times in the past weeks, but never could find the source. Your hands slowed as you looked up around the room. Tim was mesmerized by the puzzle before him, until your hand grabbed his. He looked at you, confused and now concerned at the questionable look in your eye. Then he heard it.

Tim plopped the flashlight out of his mouth and lingered it around the office.

“I’ve heard that sound before but I haven’t been able to figure out what it is,” you whispered as Tim straightened out his back from loaming over the desk.

You both went quiet as Tim took a few steps outside of the office, you were close behind him with the taped up map in your hands. A quiet hallway greeted Tim as his eyes traced down the dark hall. In the dark interior, Tim walked towards four open doors. He took a few steps forward, listening to any unusual sounds. It wasn’t until he was between doors that the thumping beat began again. Tim glanced back at you, seeing you standing at the office door still. He motioned for you to stay quiet as he took a step in the master bedroom, finding a perfectly manicured room, crisp and clean of life. Then he went from one child’s bed room to another child’s room, giving a glance over the stuffed animals tucked neatly in the children’s beds. That was where the thumping started again, but it came from another room.

Tim placed his ear to the wall, walking to the beat, you scuttling behind. Leading to the final door, Tim opened the door wide to a small laundry room. The beating had stopped by the time you two had entered, but now there was a small whiff of smoke in the air. Tim looked around the room, first towards the washer and dryer. Both stood still next to shelves of towels and cleaning products. Spare linens stocked the other shelved wall, even toiletries stacked high next to a small radio.

“There’s no power, there’s no way these machines are making the noise—” Tim said as he began to crouch down to the washer just as the thumping noise returned. Your eyes dashed from Tim’s form to the radio behind him. You both stand still as you watch the radio light up, the dial swinging back and forth from station to station. The only sound coming from the radio was the imbalanced and irregular thumping. No static, no voice, no instruments sang out through the speakers.

“But there’s no power,” you echoed Tim’s earlier response.

Tim reached out his hand to the dial, stopping the tuning. Screeching through the air, a steady and unrelenting thump sounded out. You both jumped back from the radio as the sound pierced your ears. Quickly you ducked behind the door, clamping your hands over your ears. Tim crouched to the floor, covering one of his ears. He extended one hand out, pointing towards the door, just as his wrist watch flew off. You both watched as it hit the speaker of the radio, seeming to be stuck to the fabric of the speaker. Several pieces of cleaning supplies and linen then flew off the shelves, striking the radio as well. The soft fabric over the speaker ripped open, revealing a pitch black hole that sucked the watch away. More spare bed sheets flew through the hole and into the darkness. A large container of detergent was sucked through the air and struck the radio, unable to fully go through the turning black hole until the force of the suction cracked and broke the container, forcing it in.

You and Tim looked in disbelief and horror as you both watched the suction tossing and breaking more objects. Clutching the door, you felt it begin to wobble, you could even feel your legs slightly slide against the floor. Tim felt his feet giving out as his eyes wouldn’t look away from the black of hole. You saw Tim slowly being sucked, his feet unable to find purchase against the tile floor. His glasses soon flew off his face towards the hole just before Tim’s fist captured the frames. As he clutched the glasses to him, you notice that he was further losing his traction against the suction of the black hole. Quickly you reached out to the detective, grabbing his arm and yanking him as hard as you could from your seat behind the door. Tim grabbed the knob of the door, yanking himself into you, pushing you further behind the door. You hugged Tim to your chest, clutching your arms around his neck as more towels flew over your heads. You both held on to each other, using the door as cover. Unaware of how much time went by, the suction abruptly stopped, the thumping ended, and the smell of smoke lifted through the air.

Tim watched a few loose pieces of sheets drop to the ground, he didn't move for a moment, holding your arms around him tightly. You also refused to let go of him, burying your head into his hair, breathing hard. Slowly Tim moved the door, peeking at the radio and seeing the small pillar of smoke coming from the outlet the radio was plugged into. The speaker itself sat broken, but lacked the black hole that was once there.

You clutched at Tim’s arm as you both rose.

“I don't want to be here any more, detective.”

“I don’t want you to stay here either.”

Tim grabbed your hand and yanked you out of the room and down the hall.

“Do you need to grab anything before we go?” Tim asked right before you both stopped a step away from the office as the shattering of glass pierced the air. Tim stretched his arm to hold you behind him as he peeked around the corner and into the room. Loose sheets of paper flew through the air, spiraling in circles before being sucked into the now blackened spiraling hole that replaced the screen of the computer. Cups, plates, office supplies all flung off of their settled places and were lost into the hole. You gripped Tim arms as you peered over him, just catching a glimpse of the filing cabinets shaking forward towards the computer. Tim’s tie lifted into the air causing you both to refocus from the computer to it.

“No, no, detective, I have a hotel room, nothing is here for me,” You shook Tim as you spoke. The detective then slammed the door to the office close, quickly grabbing your hand and sprinting down the stairs. “I don’t want to stay here, Can we just leave? Can we go? Please?” Your eyes began to well up as you stammered out words while almost falling down the stairs.

Tim tucked you to him “We’re going, don’t worry we’re going.”

You both grabbed your jackets and exited the house, not bothering to lock the door as you threw it closed. Neither one of you minded the rain as you sprinted to Tim’s car. He opened the door for you before entering the car himself. Slapping the radio off, he turned the key. You clutched at the map still in your hands, shaking as you couldn’t decide whether to look at the map or at the house. It isn’t till Tim grabbed your hand that you both look at each other, unable to speak. A strike of lightning hit the sky, showing Tim the road ahead. He squeezed your hand and you nodded back to him. Shifting the car into gear, his eyes never left the road.

Stardust in Papercuts

Tim never bothered to store blankets or pillows at his office, normally he napped in his chair or just didn’t sleep at all. The coffee maker was well used, unlike the leather couch he had in his office. His office was simple: a used desk, typewriter, file cabinets, one chair for himself, and one chair for his client. The couch was a bonus that came from an old friend who moved away and didn’t want to take it. Honestly, if he was ever leaving the office to move, he would probably leave the couch behind. But currently he was rather thankful to have it. He watched your curled up form breath in and out while resting on the couch. He himself decided to rest his eyes while he sat in his chair, but not before blanketing you with his raincoat.

Neither one of you dared to speak about what had happened in the house. The only words Tim had said was “I’ll order take out.”

Even now with the empty wrappers piled on his desk, his stomach full, and the rain slowly pattering against the windows; Tim was restless. You had passed out quickly after eating, he wished he could let exhaustion take over him like it got to you. He was glad you were getting sleep, he would bet money that this was the first decent amount of rest you had gotten in weeks.

Tim watched your hair pool in front of your face, your chest rise and fall, your lips slightly twitch in your dream…or nightmare. You clutched his jacket with a vicious grip, one that made Tim slightly jealous that he wasn’t in the place of his jacket. Tim wasn’t trying to entertain the idea that he could perhaps snuggle in behind you on the couch, no he definitely wasn’t thinking about that. The over analyzing detective turned away from your sleeping form then, pleading with himself to get back on the next step in the case.

But as he eyed the taped up map pinned to a board on the wall, his mind swirled back to the earlier events. He couldn’t shake the pull he felt, his body slowly lifting off the floor as the bottomless pit in the radio swallowed item after item. He remembered the air being sucked out of him just as a sob was sucked out of you with your arms digging into him, holding him for dear life. He needed to remember to thank you for that later. Now here the two of you were, full of bad take out, fried from an incomprehensible site, and a broom closet now housing Tim’s large radio that he had instantly pushed and locked away.

The detective looked up at the board of missing faces that he had pinned to a board. If he had been alone, he would be in shear doubt of his own mind and senses. There would be no way he would have believed his own eyes of what he had witnessed. There was no way tiny black holes were popping up. First the radio, then the computer. As Tim poked a fork at his remaining takeout, he wondered if more holes had developed in other parts of the home, the television in the family room or the radio in the kitchen? He wondered what the house looked like currently. Surely if two holes had developed while you and Tim were present, then there might have been holes that had developed while the family were still present in the house.

Then Tim’s mind started to take a turn for the worst—

“Detective?”

Tim stopped his nibbling on the cold leftovers and turned towards you.

Your hair was tousled on one side, while your clothes were a bit crumbled from being curled up while sleeping. There was even a red mark streaked across your cheek from sleeping with your hand under your head. Even with eyes full of concern and confusion, Tim fought the urge to run over to hold you tight. You were still a stranger to him, but how many strangers stop you from getting sucked into a bottomless black hole? He didn’t believe he could call you a stranger any longer. No, the two of you were confidantes, perhaps it would even be reasonable to call you two survivors. Or maybe too early to say such a thing.

“Did you sleep well?” Tim asked as he placed his food on the desk.

You shrugged, “As well as one can after…”

“A stomach full of Chinese food?” Tim offered to try and lighten the mood.

“Sure let’s go with that,” you gave him an appreciative smile. Both of you knew what you were alluding to but didn’t want to actually say. There was still this weight of realness and need for denial in the pit of your stomach. You looked over at Tim as he continued on about some of the late nights he’s had since starting his own private investigating business. His jacket was gone now, his white crisp shirt stretched over his wide shoulders as he braced his hands on his hip. Tim’s tie was loose, the first couple buttons of his shirt were open revealing the tops of a cotton shirt under it. The glasses he almost lost were perched on his desk now, smudges gone from where he once clutched them before they were almost sucked away. You hadn’t noticed it before but he had a leather holster strapped around his arms and shoulders, the gun still secured in it. Part of you wondered if he would have tried to shoot the radio, what would have happened then?

“My back probably hates me from sleeping in the chair so many times,” Tim could see that you were looking at him but not listening to him. “The couch was ok?”

You blinked quickly as you refocused on him, “The couch? Yeah, it’s fine. Good enough for a nap anyways.”

Tim nodded, you were spacing out and he was dancing around the subject. Rain clouds still stretched through the sky, but the storm had lessened greatly from earlier. The afternoon was already upon the two of you and he needed to get moving on this case again.

“We should talk,” he stated.

You only nodded, clearly not desiring in talking.

Tim rolled his chair up to you as he began, “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I wasn’t thinking you could.”

“I want to though, I want to continue looking and finding answers.”

“You think there are answers to whatever that was?” you held your hands over your arms, just like you did when Tim first met you.

“There have to be answers to it,” Tim didn’t let up, “In my profession there is always an answer. And my job is to find it.”

“And where would you find the answer to why miniature holes of bottomless vacuum are popping up all over my sister’s house?”

“The library.”

You and Tim stared at each other. You were judging him. Obviously that was not the answer you wanted but it was the best bet he had.

“I always go to the library. You can find answers to so many things there.” He said as he rolled back to his desk for a small note. He rolled back to you, handing you the note. “Especially a handy place to find books such as these.”

Reading down the list you saw the titles of books: Captives of the Sun by James S Pickering, Close to Critical by Hal Clement, Practical Astrology: How to Make it Work for You by Jerryl Keane, Earthblood by Keith Laumer and Rosel George Brown, and You and Space Neighbors by John Lewellen.

“Are these…”

“I was able to see the names off of some of the pages your sister and brother-in-law used for their map. Some of the names were hard to read under the marks but I believe I deciphered most of them.”

You nodded in thought, looking over a particular title.

“We don’t have many leads but this is a decent lead into getting an understanding on potentially what Ruth and James were thinking,” Tim clarified as his hand came up to squeeze your knee.

“I remember seeing this one at their house,” you said as you pointed to the title The Corridors of Time by Poul Anderson.

Tim scooted closer to you, looking at the list. “Before or after they were gone?”

“Both.”

“Do you remember who was reading it?”

“Ruth. Ruth was holding it. The last time I visited, I remember walking through the house calling her name. She wasn’t answering but I eventually found her in one of the kids’ rooms.” Your eyes went glassy then.

“What was she doing?” Tim pushed you as his thumb rubbed your knee.

“Nothing. She was just standing there, in the middle of a mess, holding the book to her chest. I asked if she was ok, she just smiled and said everything was fine, just thinking about the mess the kids left behind.”

“Where were the kids?”

“She said they were with James, out for a bike ride together. But…” you paused then, remembering the room better.

“The rooms were neat when I looked into them.”

“She cleaned the room up. Not the kids. The last time I saw the kids was before that,” you looked up at Tim then, your mouth beginning to wobble.

“Do you remember what the mess looked like?”

“Not well enough. Toys were all over the place. She wouldn’t let me help clean it though, and told me to not worry about it.”

Tim watched you as the gears slowly turned in your head.

“James’ parents’ room is a mess. At first I thought it was because they were the messy type. Then after talking to the police about their suspicion that they might be lost somewhere, I thought maybe they grabbed their stuff quickly and left. But they both need a lot of help to move around.”

“I remember there was a cane in the umbrella holder at the house.”

“James’ dad had canes everywhere, just in case he forgot one when he went to walk around. His mom had a bad back and knees, she mostly sat at her chair in the living room. Ruth would leave her to her knitting all day.”

Tim nodded as you continued to clutch his jacket around your shoulders.

“It just doesn’t make sense for them to be the ones to make the mess. And I mean it was a real mess. Their clothes were thrown everywhere, blankets tossed, pictures broken, the mattress itself is completely gone.” You looked up at him then.

“As in missing…” Tim offered.

You didn’t need to answer, Tim knew he was right when you continued, “The television in their room was still in the same spot it always was, but…”

Tim leaned forward then, “The screen was shattered.”

The conversation went quiet after that, only the muted acceptance that you two were off to the library next. There were words to be said out loud, there was an ease of understanding between the two of you. Looking yourself over in the mirror in the sun visor, you brushed away the sleep from your eyes as Tim drove the car through the rain. The radio was still shut off, Tim had made sure to double check it before entering the car. You didn’t know what he would be able to do if another black hole popped up in the radio, but it did comfort you that he at least checked it. Honestly you didn’t know why you were joining him on the investigation. He was the professional, not you. Although it was hard to say who was a professional in the case of black holes appearing in radios and televisions. Still, you were glad to be along with the detective, and you had the thought that he was glad to have you with him as well.

Glancing over to Tim every now and again, you noted the crease in his brow, the firm frown formed on his lips. You had a feeling that you looked quite similar. It was a comfort, knowing that he was just as lost and even as confused as you.

“When we get there, no splitting up. All right?”

“Agreed,” you hummed to Tim.

He glanced at you, “If anyone asks who you are, just tell them you're my investigative assistant. Moreover, you just let me do the talking.”

“Do I get a badge?”

“I don’t even have a badge,” Tim chuckled as he turned the wipers down to a lower speed.

“So you think we’ll be interrogating people? At every library on the Cape?”

“Interrogating isn’t the word I would use, but we will be asking a few questions. I found a good lead to go off of while you slept. There’s plenty of libraries on the Cape and on the mainland to choose from. If we went to each library…”

“It would take forever,” you completed his sentence.

“Exactly, but we’re in luck. After looking over the map again, I noticed a little clue. One of the pages in the map was stamped by one of the local libraries. Part of it was ripped off, but I made a few calls, and pinpointed the library to be one Lagoon Veterans Memorial Library.”

“That’s near a wildlife refuge, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Tom looked over at you, a raised eyebrow questioning you.

“They really weren’t the type to go to parks is all.”

“So it’s a place they normally wouldn’t frequent. Great.” Tim was dismayed on the inside but restrained himself to not show it on the outside. He didn’t want you to see how exasperated he was getting from this investigation.

Tim continued to drive through the rain on the skinny winding roads that curved through the shallow marsh. A few palm trees sprawled about the marsh, swaying in time with the waves of the water under the constant pelting of the rain. Soon enough the library came into view. It was tucked away amongst the tall grass and trees, sitting alone paired with its tiny parking lot. Few lights lit up the old library. The building itself was built out of crumbling bricks and rotting wood. Tim lifted his raincoat up over your head as the two of you ran inside the building.

Tim grabbed your elbow, stopping you from going too far into the building. You looked back at him confused but quickly turned worried when you saw the equally worried look on the detective’s face.

“Stay close. No wandering away.”

There were crinkles near his eyes and a slight pout to his lips. Amidst the pattering of rain, the clashing of waves in the marsh, and the falling of palm leaves, you found yourself allured to his sincerity. The gentleness of his hands, the sweetness of his eyes, even the slight youthful innocence of his face held your attention.

“You too,” you replied back to him, patting his hand.

He gave you a squeeze and then lowered his voice, “If anything starts to get…windy, or if things start flying off the shelves, then we’re booking it out of here.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I mean it, I’m not risking our safety with whatever is going on.”

“But if it helps find my sister?” you looked conflicted with your own words.

“Then I’ll risk it, but not you.”

You paused for a moment, studying him. For the first time in weeks you felt something close to stability with Tim. There were so many unknowns going on all around you, but in the past few hours he had been a rock for you. And now? If something went wrong? So many things had already gone wrong!

“No.”

Tim frowned, and adjusted himself to face you completely, “What?”

“No. No more getting lost. No more going missing. No more fucking disappearing from my life.” You begin to shake as you speak. Tim guided you to the side of the library, following the deck as you continued. “My sister is gone, my brother-in-law is gone, my niece and nephew are missing, and even their grandparents are gone. There’s no one else around, no one seems to even care or give a fuck, no one but you. And you can’t disappear on me too, you can’t leave. No fucking around!” Your shaking hands grabbed Tim’s coat as his own hands held your own arm, bringing you in close to him.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You better fucking not, cause I can’t fucking be alone anymore!”

“You won’t be, I’ll be by your side the whole time.”

“Promise! Promise me you won’t do some stupid shit like jumping in a spaceship, or falling down a black hole. None of that shit!” Tears welled up in your eyes.

You felt his hand hold the back of your head, drawing you to his chest and resting his chin on your head.

“Ok ok, it’s all right. No fucking around. No risking your safety or my own.” His hands moved over your back.

“Promise, please.” You sniffled into his shirt.

“Promise, no disappearing.” Tim’s voice rumbled in your ear. You felt the ghost of a kiss be placed on your head.

After a minute of holding each other, Tim slowly pulled you away from him. You only met his eyes when his finger pushed the leftover tears from your eyes.

“Let’s get to work.”

Squeaking wooden floors greeted you both, until a frail woman sitting at the front desk waved her greetings. Tim’s gruff voice greeted the woman back, introducing the two of you with your titles, one real and the other fake, not that the librarian knew.

“I called earlier about a family that is missing, I believe the parents checked out books from this library in the past.”

The librarian eyed Tim over her thick rimmed glasses that were strung together by a string of pearls. She nodded her head, “Yes, I remember your call.”

“Do you happen to know the last time they were here?”

“My memory isn’t the best and I don’t work the front desk all the time...” the old librarian petered off as she spoke, waving her hand in the air as if to wave the question away.

“Do you have a list of past books they rented and returned? Perhaps even dates on when they were checked out?” you watched Tim’s hand land on his hip as he waited for the librarian to slowly fumble her way to a large journal. She flipped through the pages, scanning the names and murmuring to herself.

“She seems rather annoyed with us,” you noted in a hushed tone to Tim.

“They always are annoyed,” Tim huffed. “This is where a badge would be handy. Most people don’t like Private Investigators.” The detective rubbed at his patchy beard, letting an exhausted sigh out.

“I like you.”

Tim turned his attention away from the slow moving librarian to you, “Yeah?”

A genuine smile formed on your lips, one that you hadn’t worn in quite a while, as you watched Tim's irritation form into surprise, “Yeah.”

“Really now?”

You suppressed a laugh so the librarian wouldn’t scold you, “Really. You're the only one who’s actually helping me, actually taking this seriously. No one else has gotten this far in the investigation.”

Tim studied you for a moment, “Even if this is a dead end?”

“Even if this amounts to nothing. Even if this whole investigation turns up nothing and my family is still missing, I’ll still like you.”

A tiny smile blessed Tim's face as he watched you. His hand reached up and settled to the small of your back. You watched him intently as he took a step towards you, a word forming on his lips as a loud thump shocked the two of you.

“I’m not really in the business of giving out information, you know,” the librarian eyed Tim up and down as she dramatically dropped the journal in front of you two.

“Oh I’m certain you’re not in the business of giving out information about lost people, but you’re going to need to make an exception to that today…and I would advise making that exception to any missing person report in the future.”

Your eyes bulged out at Tim's assertive tone. He had been so gentle and instructional with you, you hadn’t heard his really detective voice till now.

The librarian grumbled as she opened the journal and handed it over to Tim, “I’ll be in the break room if you need anything else.” She squinted at Tim again and slowly shuffled off to a room behind the desk.

“We’ll be sure to call if we need anything,” Tim called back at her.

The two of you viewed the page in the journal, finding the names of your sister and brother-in-law paired with several book titles next to their name. Titles of books that Tim had jutted down from earlier were checked out and returned, plus many more titles. All were returned except two titles, but one book was asked to be held for them. Abd al-rahman al-Sufi's The Book of Fixed Stars.

“Well, she’s about to really hate me,” Tim mumbled to you.

You chuckled as Tim yelled out to the librarian.

“Do you still have The Book of Fixed Stars still on hold?”

In the distance, you heard the squeak of a chair moving and then saw the face of the librarian peek out from the room. “Nope, put it back on the shelf when they didn’t show up to collect.” She then ducked away back to her squeaky chair.

“Do you know the dewey decimal system, Detective?”

“Of course, just…follow me,” Tim looked up and down the several aisles before taking off, tugging you behind him.

Your hand clasped his as the two of you walked past rows and rows of bookcases. His grip on you was tight, just as yours was tight to his. Nothing in this case was what he was used to. The blackholes were obviously an issue he couldn’t wrap his head around. The writings and sketches of the missing family just didn’t make sense. And now here the two of you were, holding hands, murmuring reassurances to each other. In no other case had Tim become so close to his clients like this. He had never been so invested in an individual before. But here you were, willingly following him. Even pleading with him to be careful, to not leave you.

He didn’t want to leave you. That’s why his grip on you was so firm. His mind spiraled on what would happen if another hole appeared while the two of you were in the library, what if you were in another aisle looking at books and a hole appeared, sucking you away. What if you were just a step away from him? Tim shook the thought of his own feet sliding against the tile floor of your sister’s laundry room away from his head. He drew your hand to his chest as he finally found the right aisle.

“This way,” he murmured with a reassuring glance back to you. Your eyes looked a bit clearer now, more than when you two were out on the porch. But there was still some lost wandering going on in your eyes. Tim regretted his lack of a better lead to follow, that would have surely helped reassure you that he knew what to do, even though that was far from the truth with this present case. Tim’s free hand traced over the worn titles of books till he found the one he wanted, “The Book of Fixed Stars by one Abd al-Rahman al-Sufi.”

Tim pulled the dark turquoise book from the shelf. the spine was cracked and the pages yellowed. The detective glanced up and down the aisle before nodding for you to walk with him further into the rows of books, still clutching your hand. Soon he found a small corner of the library where a small desk sat under the glare of a larch arching window. The two of you sat down next to each other. You clicked the desk light on as Tim brought out a small notebook filled with notes. He quickly leafed to a new page while your curiosity guided you to the book. Upon opening the cover you found images of constellations and sketches of figures drawn with the star constellation, accompanied by a small passage of text.

“Says here that this is a translated copy of the book. The original was written by Iranian astronomer al-Sufi,who wrote the original in 964 AD,” you recounted the text to Tim, who wrote down quick notes. You flipped through the book to find more plotted dots of constellations paired with sketches of animals and people. “All the fixed stars have recorded observations of their positions, magnitude, and color,” you said as you flipped to a chart of constellations.

“Magnitude?”

“Brightness,” you murmured to Tim.

Tim nodded and looked back at his old notes on the star map your sister and brother-in-law made, “There has to be something that they were looking for specifically, something interesting or different from the other stars maybe?.”

You hummed as you started to look down the catalog of stars, “He mentions a ‘little cloud’ here. There’s also a mention of a nebulous star and object. Do those ring any bells?” You looked over at Tim for any clarity.

Tim thought of course they didn’t, but huffed out, “Let’s take a look at the cloud first.”

Shuffling the pages to where a description of the ‘little cloud’ lay, you related your finding to Tim, “The note from modern astronomers says that this is the first noted sighting of the Andromeda Galaxy.”

Tim hummed and nodded the name down.

You went quiet then as your eyes trained on the delicate hand writing of your own sister. Tim saw the glass overed look in your eyes and leaned over your shoulder to look. Neatly, in beautiful cursive were the words: Our Dark Star? Is this what took them? Were we wrong?

“Do you know what a dark star is?” you asked timidly.

“No, but we just so happen to be in a place that could give us that answer.” Tim jumped from his seat and walked a few steps before quickly returning, “No separating, right?” He smiled at you with a quick double lift of his eyebrows.

Easily, you smiled back at him, grabbing his hand and the book. The two of you took off in the direction of the library card catalog. Tim maneuvered through the drawers of cards finding one pertaining to the subject of space, swiftly he found a particular book about many different natural occurrences and cosmic phenomenons. Tim looked over the call number on the card, he then started to look up another card from the catalog. After a few minutes of shuffling through the cards, Tim let out a soft, “Found it,” before grabbing the card out of the drawer. Swiftly, he led you to the exact point where the book was shelved.

“Here you are,” Tim whispered to the book. He winked at you then, “Back to work.”

This time you led the two of you back to the desk, holding tight to Tim’s hand. You scanned through the contents of the book quickly finding a section about dark stars.

“Here we are,” you glanced at Tim, seeing him pull out his notebook again. “Dark stars are large masses that can escape velocity that can exceed the speed of light, theoretically any light near the surface of a dark star would trap the light away in its gravity.”

Tim clicked the cap of his pen, “Meaning it devours anything near it.”

You looked up from the book at Tim then, halting your breath before speaking. Tim was practically leaning over you, his face a mere inch from yours as he studied the passage you had just read. The curve of his nose was just in reach of a caress from your own nose. Even the deep amber of his eyes were close enough for you to study and adore. A scraping of a chair somewhere else in the library brought your attention back to the case. Clearing your throat, you continued.

“Sounds like it, there’s more here. But the jargon is getting out of my depth of common knowledge on space, to be honest.”

Tim chuckled, “Same, but maybe it’s time to find a particular specialist on the subject. But before we head out, I’ve got one more thing to look up.” Tim held up a card inscribed with the words Cape Canaveral Astronomical Planetarium and Observatory.

“C.C.A.P.O!” you gasped at Tim. “That’s what was on the telescope!”

The detective nodded and led you over to a section of the library that held a phone book, “Do you know anything about the planetarium and observatory? Maybe if your family worked there or had any special reasoning for being there?”

“Nope, I mean they would obviously go because they’re total space nuts. Maybe even take the kids to view the planetarium. But there are plenty of places in the Cape to view and learn about space, so I don’t know why specifically this place caught their attention,” you stated, steading to Tim as you both leaned over a stand desk that held the phone book.

Tim promptly flipped through the pages, “I’m sure once we get to the site, we’ll be able to find someone who might give us a better understanding of your sister’s and brother-in-law's thoughts. Here we go, an address.” Tim wrote the address down, circling the numbers in his notebook. He looked back at you then and pointed to the books in your hand, “We’ll check those books out too, there has to be someone at the observatory that can explain this better to us.”

“Sounds like a plan, Detective,” your face bloomed into a radiant smile for Tim, which in turn made him smile back. You both were quiet for a few seconds, basking in each other's glow before Tim spoke up.

“I like seeing you like this,” Tim softly murmured to you. He was delicate with his words while his hand that still held yours, spiraled small circles on your wrist.

“I like being like this,” you whispered back to him.

“You know maybe, if you're agreeable to it, maybe you would be up for working on other cases together? This has actually been really nice that I got to partner up with someone for change. Normally I’m on my own, it’s been nice to be able to talk ideas out, to depend on someone else, even just to be able to feel lost and confused with another soul,” Tim’s eyes roved over your face, taking you all in, as he spoke.

“Are you giving me a promotion, Detective?” you stepped closer to Tim.

“I guess I am. Assistant to partner? How does that sound,” his voice lowered as he also took a step closer to you.

Now with Tim’s nose just grazing your own, you breathed out a silent, “Sounds perfect,” before Tim cupped the back of your head and crashed his lips to yours.

Quietly between sucked breaths and moans, you and Tim held and felt each other in the back corner of the old library. His lips closed over yours, taking in the soft moan that escaped your lips and to his. Tim’s long nose pushed into your cheek as his hungry lips moved against your impatient ones. His hands found your hips, gently pushing you back against a bookcase with a thud. In between kisses, you stifled a laugh as Tim let out a quick ‘shh’ before crashing his lips back to you just so his tongue glided across your lips.

Tim hadn’t been in a relationship for quite some time, his chaotic schedule giving him zero time to form relationships. But the past few hours with you were so different, for many obvious reasons, but for one very burning yet covert reason. There was such a loneliness in you that he knew well himself, such a loneliness that was so familiar. He hated that feeling and he was glad, damn glad to get rid of it recently. Tim considered himself a good detective, but he didn’t have a clue that this would be happening, making out with a client…well partner? But honestly, Tim didn’t care.

You felt so perfect to him, so right. When you held him back at your sister’s house, when you slept on his couch, even when you read the books to him as he wrote down notes. You should be home, be waiting by a phone, or talking to other members of your family; not clawing at his hair roots. But Tim never bothered to push you away throughout this whole case, he felt that attraction the moment he answered your call. Even now, with his lips glued to yours, there was such a pull beyond physical between the two of you; Tim wanted to explore it more.

Opening up to Tim was easy, while his hands roamed your hips, your hands snaked their way to his hair, taking hold of the small curls and waves. Even while Tim’s tongue explored your mouth, your own leg crept up to his hip, hitching the detective to you. All sense of depression, loneliness, desperation was gone while you were tucked away in Tim’s arms. A voice bounced around your head; this is it, this is where you should be, where you should stay. Maybe you won’t find your family, but you’ve found something else, someone you can’t part from. Your hips bucked up to Tim's thick thigh with the vibrating thoughts roaming your mind. A husky and guttural moan echoed through the library, out of Tim’s mouth and to your core.

“We’re supposed to be quiet while in the library Tim,” the words escaped you in between kisses.

Tim’s hot breath caressed your neck as his lips traveled down your neck, his beard scraping your skin and sending shivers through you.

“Like that old librarian could hear us,” Tim mumbled into your skin.

Your fingers tailed down from his hair to his neck then to his broad shoulders that you had been ogling since he first walked into your sister’s house. His shoulders felt strong and solid under your constant squeezing rubbing. One of Tim’s hands flew up to the bookcase behind you, causing a thud of what you presumed to be a book falling to the floor. You giggled into Tim’s ears and quieted yourself again.

“Now look who’s getting loud,” Tim kissed your ear.

“Can’t help it,” you turned to Tim as another thud echoed through the library. “Maybe I’m just getting a little lost in you.”

Tim’s arms snaked around your waist, hauling you to his chest, “I can understand that.”

He nipped and sucked at your chin, completely distracted with your taste that he didn’t register your hand sneaking down his chest, grazing against his shoulder holster, and tapping on his belt buckle, all to settle and cup his growing bulge.

“Holy God,” Tim growled out into your neck as he pushed his bulge into your hand. His hands tightened around you while you continued to rub him through his pants. “Honey, if you continue we’re both going to get kicked out for—” Tim stifled another growl into your neck before continuing, “indecent exposure.”

“No shame in that,” you nuzzled yourself closer to Tim, delighted in the idea of getting such a professional detective in a little bit of good trouble.

He ducked his head again to yours, rubbing his nose to you. With your heavy breaths blending together, Tim rutted into your hand and leaned in close again to your lips when suddenly a piercing scream rang through the library.

You both clutched at each other and looked back down the rows of books. Tim spun you to him, and took the both of you a step back from the screaming. You dug your nails into Tim’s bicep looking around the high shelves of books. Several thuds and crashing rattled through aisle after aisle.

“Tim, we need to leave. We’ve been here too long,” you pleaded as Tim stood still.

The detective’s hand squeezed yours as he watched out for whatever was happening in the distance.

“Tim! Listen to me! Let's go!” you grabbed his chin and rotated his face to look at you. “Now. Please.”

Tim stared down at you as more crashing rang through the air, “It’s coming from the front desk,” he stated to you. “We’ll have to go past it.”

“Shit,” you cursed. “The librarian.”

“Come on,” he ordered. “Together.”

Tim grabbed your hand, holding it to his chest. He walked steadily through the rows of books, noting the scream you both heard earlier had ceased while the crashing of books and other objects could still be heard.

As you and Tim rounded the corner out of the book shelves, you both saw the whirling of papers circling the air inside the break room that the librarian had entered earlier. Giving a wide circle around the front desk to try and view what was happening inside the break room, you both abruptly stopped your pace as the door of the room slammed shut. Frozen in your tracks, the sound of a shelf crashing could be heard before there was a sudden silence. Tim looked back at you with an obvious question hanging in the air.

“If we go ahead and open the door, then just make sure to jump back before the door completely swings open,” you told Tim.

He nodded in agreement, “Don’t let go.” Tim patted your held hand to his chest.

You both took a breath and walked to the break room door. Tim extended his arm out, keeping his other arm close to you while your free arm snaked around his bicep. You planted your feet firmly to the floor, glancing quickly to the large front desk that was just within arms reach for you. Finally Tim turned the knob and pushed the door open before jumping back into your chest as fast as he could. The door opened yet stopped quickly with a thud, only opening a few inches before being stopped by something in its way,

“Something’s blocking it.”

“Fuck,” Tim cursed under his breath. He glanced through the crack of the door, seeing a familiar mess. “Ok I’m going to shove it open, you stay right there.”

Tim reluctantly let go of your hand and placed his weight into the door, pushing it more and more. You could hear the sound of wood breaking and rubbing against the wood floor as Tim steadily opened the door. Now on the threshold, Tim looked over the ruined room. Books were missing from the shelf that had once been firmly set to the wall. Parts of a microwave and small fridge were broken across the floor. Drawers and cabinets that were once probably storing office supplies were broken open. Even the wheels of a missing chair were left on the floor.

You appeared next to Tim then, taking in the room as well seeing a distinct trail of debris led to a broken television. But what caught your eye, as well as Tim’s, was the pair of pearl stringed glasses, bloodied and caught on the knobs of the television.

Echoes through the Lens

“So how do we frame the question: Can dark stars or other cosmic variables randomly form inside of televisions and radio, creating a unstable and unstoppable suction—”

“That devours whole pieces of furniture and even people,” Tim deadpanned your final thought.

“Yeah that,” you solemnly replied back to him.

The ride to the planetarium and observatory started out quiet except for the rain that consistently splashed against the windshield, just to be scattered away by the windshield wipers. But the dark drive, and even the rain couldn’t stop your thoughts from spiraling.

“How are we supposed to ask that question without literally asking the question?”

Tim adjusted his glasses, “We’ll lead the specialist to ask the question. Make them jump to conclusions.”

You stared at Tim, “Is that what you did to me?”

“No… you were the victim or at least the family of the victims. And then my assistant and now my partner,” he smiled as he said the last part, “I didn’t lead you to any conclusion, if anything you led me.”

Tim slid his hand from the steering wheel to your hand, softly holding and entwining your fingers. Your eyes watched him thoughtful. You should be guilty. The more you two investigated, the more it looked like your family was gone forever; you should feel the pressing weight of shock and numbness. There should be bile rising in your throat. Or at least depression clouding your eyes.

The guilt and everything associated was there, you weren’t naïve to think you were immune to it all, but you knew it was still there within you. Maybe in the depths of your gut or the back of your mind, but either way it was buried…buried under the weight of Tim’s hand in yours. Forgetting about the bloody glass of the missing librarian or the scattered mind of your sister and her husband, not to mention the empty spaces where your niece and nephew used to play. You were happy, for once in a long time of job searching, house searching, soul searching; you now felt found. Or at the least you felt known, seen.

It was all horrifying and perverse, you were well aware of yourself. But you couldn’t help it, and you didn’t want to stop this bloom of adoration and exhilaration. The graze of Tim’s beard against your own face felt too good to deny. And upon watching Tim, a man that had probably seen many gruesome scenes in his line of work, he seemed content, if not of a certain desire to have you in his space and within his amicable thoughts.

“Gateway to the Cosmos,” Tim echoed the greeting sign for the Cape Canaveral Astronomical Planetarium and Observatory. “Think that’s true?”

“Not to be too disturbing, but I think we’ve already seen many gateways to the cosmos today,” you side eyed Tim.

“Perhaps that’s true, but at this point, what’s one more?” Tim planted a kiss on your hand and jumped out of the car. He quickly rounded the vehicle and opened your door, grabbing your hand as you stepped out. “Shall we, partner?”

The building as a whole was made up of one large central building with two wings reaching in different directions. Three large domes enclosed the main building and the two ends of the wings. The large dome in the middle of the building held the museum, while one dome was encased in many large panels of metals and glass while the other dome had a large opening split down its middle where a large telescope spied out.

From the looks of it, there had obviously been a crowd at the building, probably a small watch party for the Apollo 12 launch. Leftover tables and chairs were placed all over the lobby of the museum. You and Tim snuck past the cleanup crew and walked down the marble halls to the planetarium.

“Are we going to take in a show at the sky theater?” you laughed.

“We could. I just wanted to see if anyone is still here. They may have left for home already,” Tim said as he opened the door to the large dome theater.

Several rows of chairs circled a large project in the middle of the room. All the seats were empty, but the dome of the ceiling was still lit and showed a swirling of constellations and nebulae. You slowly walked to the center of the theater as Tim took a look around the place. The theater was simple, no other rooms were found but Tim did find a panel of light switches. Unable to help himself, he looked on to you as he flipped the lights off one by one. Darkness didn’t over take the room though, instead the heaven bodies engulfed the room. Tim watched your head tilt back and gaze wide eyed at the 360 degree view of the cosmos above you. Light blue stars embedded in the dark blue space shown down to you, just as a nebula of scattered swimming turquoise blues, cool olive greens, warm burning oranges and yellows, and finally electric blood reds reflected down on her shining face.

You were too busy taking in the show above you to notice the detective take you in. Tim watched your lovely face. You were clearly enraptured by the show before you, but you held Tim’s undivided attention. He was glad that you were getting a little respite from the horror of the case. You had been so focused at the library, then so silent afterwards. When Tim saw the planetarium was still open, he had hoped that the two of you could pop in for a show. You obviously were interested in space like your sister, but no one could deny the beauty of the universe, Tim was certainly not going to deny you.

He slowly approached you from behind, lightly placing his hands on your hip. You leaned back onto him, releasing a sigh.

“Ruth used to beg me to go to the sky theater whenever I came into town. She would always poke and prod at me to join her in relaxing under the stars. I never bothered to go,” you smiled up at the theater.

“What did you do instead?” Tim breathed into your ear.

“I went to the beach. What else are you supposed to do when you're in Florida?”

Tim’s hands encircled your waist. He leaned down and settled his chin on your shoulder, pulling you close to him, “The beach isn’t bad, I haven’t gone in years, or at least for leisure purposes. I’ve been for work, which is never a good thing.”

“Have you been to a planetarium before?”

“Never. First time for me.”

“Same.” You went quiet then. Taking in the sky above. “I should have gone.”

Tim ran his nose up your neck then, landing his cheek on yours, letting you continue.

“I should have gone with her, she loved it all. I can understand why now.”

“Honey,” Tim softly spoke to you.

You shook your head though before he could continue, “No. I should have been around more, I could have helped out more with the kids or maybe with chores around the house. I could have just gone to the damn planetarium with her at least once.”

Tim straightened out and turned you around then.

“You know what I should have done?” Tim’s voice made you pause. His tone was rough and bitter almost. “I should have been able to pull us away from the radio back at the house. I should have warned that librarian about the holes appearing. I should have found better clues or a better lead then wandering around a planetarium for who knows what.” His voice raised as he carried on. “Hell, maybe I should go and call in a different detective to take on the case.”

“No Tim, no. You’ve been nothing short of perfect. You're the only one that could have gotten us this far, you're the only one that has put any effort in this case at all.”

“Was I able to get us away from the black hole in the radio?”

“No, but—”

“I should have. You're my top priority. Nothing comes before your safety and yet you were the one holding me from being crushed and sucked away to who knows where.”

“You could have…” you were lost for words.

“Done absolute shit.” Tim lifted your chin up so you could look him in the eyes. “I could have fucked myself up or worse, you…” Tim paused. “Do you think it matters now?”

“No, it's useless to think like that.”

“Agreed, and it’s useless for you to think like that as well.”

“You don’t even think back on your mistakes and wish you had done something differently, wished you had seen something differently?”

“Sure, a lot of the time I do when reviewing cases, but it does shit all. Thinking that way has never made a difference and I don't think it will now either.” Tim touched your cheek then and rubbed his thumb against your skin, “It never did any good for my ugly mug, it won't do any good for your beautiful face.”

You giggled and tucked your face into his chest, “You don’t have an ugly mug.”

“What was that, honey?”

You pushed off of his chest then, and looked up into his eyes, “I said you aren’t ugly.”

“That so?” Tim’s voice lowered as a smug look appeared on his face.

“Yeah, you’re rather handsome in fact.”

Tim watched the nebulae and stars reflect on your face. He lowered his head down, touching his nose to yours, letting the constellations connect over your bodies just as your lips touch. Your hands around Tim's shoulders as his hands wrapped around your waist and tangled in your hair. His tongue glided in and out of your mouth, lovingly tangling with yours. You moaned when you felt the heat of his breath hot against you. Tim couldn’t stop himself, he felt such a strong pull from you, a strong desire to have you here and now.

“Lean back on the seat, honey,” Tim rasped into your mouth before pulling your mouth to his again. You slowly slid back into the reclining chair as Tim’s tongue grazed against your lips. Gladly opening up for him, you felt the coarse hair of his mustache and beard prick against your skin and lips. Tim slowly melted down over you, settling his knee between your legs, close to the heat that was quickly building in your core.

His hands skimmed under the hem of your shirt, slowly working further and further up, cupping your breasts. A gasp rattled through your body, arching you closer to Tim. He moaned into you then, pushed you further into the seat. Tim knew there was potential of the two of you getting caught, he knew there was potential of his career being damaged from getting so entangled with a family member of the victim, but he knew there was no one he could stop himself from having you. The hitch of your leg over his, clued him in that you wanted this to continue.

Tim broke the kiss off suddenly, pushing his upper body off of you and looking down at your lust filled eyes. They were hazy yet full intent on nothing but Tim. He loved the way you looked; you looked so different from a minute ago, teetering on the edge of bliss as the reflection of stardust and cosmic winds danced on your face. Tim wanted so badly to keep you in that blissed out state for as long as he could.

“Tell me you want this, baby” Tim pushed his knee further up between your legs, enjoying the shiver that wrecked through you.

“Fuck yes,” you barely breathed out.

“Quiet, I don’t want anyone to disturb us,” Tim rasped out as he slowly sank to his knees. He undid your pants and slowly pulled them down, showing off your underwear to the stars above. The detective didn’t waste any time as he kissed and nipped at your belly then your plush thighs. He loved the squirm you let out as he licked up your skin and threw your leg over his shoulder. You decisively like the look of your leg draped over his leather shoulder holster.

“Trading your guns in for a pair of thighs, Detective?” you gaped at Tim.

“Certainly thinking about it. How do I look?” Tim smirked at you as he lowered his head to the dampening cloth covering your folds, planting a kiss and pushing his nose into you. Your toes curled as you tried hard to watch Tim as he continued to kiss you through your drenched underwear.

“Tim…please.”

“Whatever you want, honey.”

You quivered as the heat of Tim's mouth hit the heat under your panties. Tim’s hands quickly ran up your thighs and hooked your underwear, tugging them to the floor. He didn’t waste a moment as he drove straight for your clit, drawing you between his lips with a devious moan. You wanted to appreciate the new angle of Tim, but couldn’t when you threw your head back, biting your lip red. You knew you needed to stay quiet, so you resorted to just pleading and praising.

“Tim, fuck Tim, that feels…” you sucked your lips in as you muffed your own moan.

Tim furthered the issue for you when he hooked his arm around your thigh, tracing his finger through your folds. He stroked your glistening skin up and down, feeling out every curve and crevasse in your heat till he felt he was satisfied with the feelover. Deciding to investigate a new part of your body, the detective’s finger plunged into your heat, feeling you clutch automatically around him.

You felt Tim exhale through his nose, the flare of his rough breathing shaking your own breathing as Tim’s finger slowly pushed and stroked your walls. Your nails dug into the leather seat below you with every stroke of Tim’s finger. Soon enough Tim added a second finger, pushing the couple in and out of you while he swirled his tongue around your tight pearl. Tim, the dutiful detective he was, patiently guided you to the stars. He curled his fingers, dragging them in and out of you when he finally found what he’d been looking for. You thrashed suddenly under his constant and relentless maneuvering.

Tim took that as a cue to change his tactics. You whimpered when he pulled his fingers away and wrapped both arms around your legs, lifting you slightly off the seat.

“I know baby, I know. Just give me a second. I promise I’ll give you the stars, soon enough,” Tim cooed at you.

His fingers quickly took over what his tongue was so diligently stimulating; his large soaked finger found your needy clit and swiftly rubbed and twirled the pearl. Tim’s tongue plunged into your cunt, lapping up whatever you would give him. He hummed into you, digging his fingers into your thigh, loving the juice of your core and the chanting you were doing in his name. Tim’s eyes opened with the pull of your fingers in his hair and the shake of your body. He watched over the crest of your mound to your beautiful and blissed face. The cosmos painted your body in sweet colors of boysenberry and indigo, swirling over your body as Tim’s finger swirled over and over your clit.

The wave of bliss rocketed through you suddenly, your eyes shot open to stars above you, dancing through the cries and gasps. Your legs tensed and your back arched as Tim groaned into you. The sweeps of his tongue turned into kisses as he traveled up your body, kissing the valley between our breasts until he kissed your red bitten lips. The weight of his body slowly lowered to you, letting you finally feel the hardened presence in his pants.

“Need some help?” you giggled between kisses. Tugging at the belt of his pants, your hand snaked down his falling trousers to take a hold of his heft. Tim moaned out his pleasure into your lips, happy for the help as his hip bucked up, shifting you higher on the seat.

“Honey, shit, just let me…” Tim huffed out as he balanced himself on one arm and yanked down his clothes. Freeing himself, and allowing you free range to stroke him up and down, Tim lowered his forehead to settle against yours. Slowly with gentle kisses to his cheeks, nose, and lips, you guided Tim to your entrance. Sighs and gasps filled your tiny section of the theater as Tim seated himself further and further into your heat, filling you up with small yet calculated thrusts.

Your arms encircle the broad shoulders that you had fantasized since you first met the detective, clutching at the leather binding of his gun holster. Tim buried his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your natural scent that mixed with your lingering perfume. The ringing of the metal seat below the two of you spun out into the theater, entangled with your cries of pleasure. Tim continued on, feeling the pressure building up in you again as he soon found the sweet spot that made your nails dig into his skin and your heat clench around his cock.

“Please don’t stop, so close Tim.”

“Wouldn’t even think of stopping. Feel too damn good, too damn beautiful, too damn heavenly,” Tim whimpered as his hips continued to hit you in the same blissful spot again.

Another spin of the cosmos above and all around, you both were coming undone. You clenched around Tim again, delighted in the string of curse words that came out of the detective’s mouth as you bit his shoulder in a new wave of euphoria. And not long after your pleasure had cursed through you did Tim find his own, paint the walls of your heat as his hips stuttered to his once rhythmic and precise thrust. Tim collapsed on top of you fully then, but guided you to your sides while slumping down into the seat, too snug together and too tired to care about the turning worlds around you or the tight fit of the chair.

Cherry red and violet purple galaxies painted and smoothed over the sweat that glistened over your skin as well as Tim’s. He held you close, the two of you situated to your sides, melting into the seat, foreheads pressed together, breathing into each other. Your eyes were open, trained but heavy lidded as you looked over the beautiful man before you. His once combed hair was now swept in sweet curls that your fingers begged to play with. You allowed them, tracing the shell of his ear causing his large palm that was splayed over your back to push you further to him, as if you two weren’t already melting together.

At some point you would have to stand up, continue on with the investigation, but that thought was far from your mind as Tim opened his eyes. After so many conversations, so many worrisome peeks, anxious ridden gazes, this was a look so completely different from the others.

You were his world, his star, his sun, his moon, and all the cosmos in the universe; all of it and everything beyond.

Tim’s hand grazed up to your head, burying his fingers into your hair. His own lips gravitated towards yours, gently kissing you with small caressing swipes of his tongue. Your sighs rolled out of you, content and without a single beat of ambition. Tim couldn’t imagine himself anywhere else.

But the loud, echoing sound of cracking and breaking glass and metal sobered the bliss out of both of your systems. Tim clutched you and rolled you both to the ground. Just over the edge of his shoulder you could see a steady, large crack quickly forming up the projector.

“I think it’s time to exit the sky theater,” Tim easily echoed a thought that was on the tip of your tongue.

You both surged up, knocking out any leftover euphoria out, and pulled your clothes together just as another loud break of metal pierced your ears. A swirling wind picked up in the planetarium, familiar yet stronger than the suction you both had felt before. Tim scooped you into his arms and dashed forward to the doors. Leftover decorations flew through the air as the metal folded seats of the theater were flung down, several creaks of old used metal echoed through the theater as the suction coming from the projector hungered for the audience. You and Tim reached the doors in time to see the first chair yanked out of the ground and crash into the projector. You couldn’t see the hole forming inside the machine but knew it was there once another tear of metal bounced through the theater as another seat flew through the air and over the top of the project to where the now darkened lights once shined from.

“It’s getting worse,” Tim shouted to you over the top of ripped metal.

You looked up to Tim then, feeling the brush of his beard against your ear. His arms wrapped around you, caging you to the door. His curls bounced in the suction of the projector’s black hole. His dark eyes locked on the destruction before the two of you, watching more chairs fly to the center of the theater. You could see the quizzical movement of his eyes, twitching as he studied the carnage. You watch his beauty in work, his detective mind reeling with ideas and questions.

Several loud howls of metal ripping sounded through the theater again. More chairs were ripped out of the bolts and flung into the projector, all for more ripping and tearing to occur as the seats were sucked and squashed into small pieces into the bottomless hole. Within all of the carnage, and even a rough pull of the doors that the two of you clung to, didn’t pull Tim’s focus away. It wasn’t until your hand gently smoothed over his chin to his cheek, turning him to you.

“Let’s get some damn answers.”

Tim wasn’t certain the doors to the planetarium would hold; he was more certain the roof would be caving in at any moment actually, but that was far from his thoughts as you both walked to the other side of the building, rearranging your clothes from your earlier shuffle and opened the doors labeled “employees only” to the observatory.

The confident stride that you and Tim had only moments ago, quickly faltered when the two of you took in the scene ahead. The giant telescope you both expected to see was completely destroyed. Large lenses, mechanical parts, and mismatched cords and wires lay across several tables around the observatory. All labeled and organized. The telescope itself was open to the world, hollow inside and useless.

"Someone knew what they were doing," Tim commented as he skimmed over the loose parts.

“It does seem like someone was busy while everyone else was off partying,” you remarked back. Your eyes quickly caught the sight of a still steam cup of coffee placed on a table full of folders and handwritten notes. Skimming the notes, you found the writing barely legible, much of it talking about parts of the telescope, about patterns in the stars, and even more nonsense that you could barely make out. But then there it was… a familiar assortment of loose papers and ripped pages, all stapled together in an overlapping configuration. The drawings, circles, dotted lines were all too familiar to you now.

“Tim! Look!”

He rushed over to you, looking over your shoulder, “It’s the star map.”

“The exact same one that your sister had.” Tim reached over your shoulder and lifted the map to the light. “There’s a few extra bits though, see here,” Tim said as he pointed to scribbles that ran along a large, bold line that stretched across the entire map and ended at a familiar large dark curling and swirling mass. “What do you make of these?”

Your eyes skimmed over the small scribbles taking in the three sets.

“Well that one is definitely a half sun and…,” you pointed at the half circle with squiggles emitting from it. “Is that a skull?” you questioned, drawing your finger over the teeth like a mark that ran under the half sun. Two black marks sat on the lower half of the sun, as if they were eyes.

“Looks like it. The sun is making up the dome of the skull.”

The second mark you studied for a moment.

“That could be a smear for all I can tell,” Tim shook his head.

“No, it looks like a flow, like a river?”

“Or northern light? Can we get the northern lights down here?”

“Tim, I think there’s been a lot of things happening that weren’t possible before. Why wouldn’t the northern light appear over Florida?”

Tim laughed, “Fair point, but what about this last one?” He pointed at a cylinder shape with tapered ends. Inside the sharpe oval like shape were circles on circles seeming to grow large but not constricting out of the shape.

“I have no clue. Do you?”

“No but—” Tim began.

“You two haven’t seen the bulb of a lighthouse before, have you?”

Startled by the unknown voice, you both swirled around quickly and took in the sight of a man just entering the room from a side door. His hair was smoothed over his bald patch at the back of his head just as the crumbled tan jacket he wore hid the coffee stain on his green shirt. His large glass kept falling down as he walked up to the two of you, his eyes darting back and forth between the pair of you. His hands rolled up a notebook, one that he quickly tucked into his jacket before he finally came to the table where the map laid.

“You’ve been studying my map,” the man nodded and fidgeted with the paper. “Tell me James,” the man’s eyes landed on Tim, “How does mine compare to yours?”

Tim cleared his throat and glanced at you then back at the man, “Well sir…”

“No need for formalities here, Robert will do just fine as it did in our correspondence. Although I understand it, I was writing to Ruth most of the time.” The man, Robert, gestured towards you.

Understanding Robert’s assumption and misunderstanding now, you lept at the chance.

“Robert, our map is quite close to yours, but there seems to be one glaring difference,” you looked towards Tim.

“Yes, it’s been eating me up inside seeing the mistake I must have made,” Tim turned towards the map then. “This.” Tim pointed to the bold line you two were studying earlier.

Robert smiled a row of yellow teeth then, “The route of ascension. I’ve found the shortcut for you two to take.”

You walked next to Tim then and placed a hand on his back, listening as Robert continued.

“By my calculations the normal route would take a century or two, this should be quite instant.”

“A century?” Tim echoed what you thought.

“Very annoying voyage to go on. I’m glad we found a way to shorten it. We really can’t take too long if we are to get the two of you to Andromeda’s Blind Eye.” Robert went on grabbing a few folders, bumping into the table and spilling the coffee over several of his scattered notes. Cursing under his breath, Robert went on a rant about time being a man made invention as he went on with his business cleaning his mess. Between his chaotic movement and meandering rant, Tim stepped forward picking up a box of tissues for a swift opportunity.

“Here let me give you a hand,” Tim said as he quickly crashed into Robert’s chest, dropping the tissues to the floor while sneaking his free hand into Robert’s jacket, grabbing hold of the small notebook and stashing it in his back pocket. “My bad, let’s just get this mess cleaned up and be on our way.”

Robert, seeming to be thrown off by Tim’s presence in his space, shook his head quickly, “No time, weren’t you listening? We should just leave now. We need to get going.” Hardily, he pushed his mess away and then snatched the star map. “We need to get going. Time is almost on us.”

Walking towards an exit, the strange man led you and Tim to the parking lot. Tim’s hand clenched yours tightly.

“Where exactly are we off to Robert?”

The man turned suddenly to Tim, holding the map up to your eyes, “St. Joseph’s Lighthouse.”

“St. Joseph?” you asked

“Joseph Calasanz. Friend of Galileo, you see.” Robert said matter of factly, handing you the star map, “Follow, we’re moving quickly.”

“But what about the telescope?” you asked as you trailed behind.

“What about the telescope?”

“Did you take it apart?” Tim asked while keeping pace between you and Robert.

“Of course, who else would know how to take apart a black hole conductor?”

“Black hole conductor? It’s a telescope.”

“Was. Then it was a conductor.” Robert retorted as he got to his car.

“And now?” you asked breathlessly.

“Now it is what we’ve been corresponding about Ruth. Inert. Comatose. Devoid of significance as it would do to us.”

“Like what happened in the planetarium,” you breathed out as your shoulders slumped.

“Such as it goes,” Robert opened his door without breaking eye contact, “Now follow, please.” With that he quickly stepped into his car and closed the door.

Tim gave a glance back to the skewd smile of Robert before pushing you into his car. You waited for Tim to enter the car and start the engine before talking.

“Tim?”

He turned the engine on, followed Robert’s car closely, “Whatever happens next, let me make this absolutely clear, you stick by my side. I'll stick to yours.” Tim’s hand reached for yours; you met him with a squeeze. “I don’t know what’s going on, but we’re in this together.”

You nodded and kissed Tim’s cheek, tightening your grip on his hand.

“We just found each other, I’m not letting go of you any time soon.”

Black Holes of Light Shows

You viciously flipped through the pages of Robert's notebook, scanning and skimming the lines looking for any clue for his apparent route of ascension. Tim continued to drive, thumbing the steering wheel, keeping pace with Robert’s car ahead of him, but giving you a glance every once in a while. Neither of you were too certain what was happening or going to happen but whatever answers you needed must lay in the tiny rumpled and yellowed notebook.

“And if he notices that his notebook is missing? Then what?”

Tim tightened his hands on the steering wheel, “Well then I push him off the damn lighthouse if he tries anything.”

“And he won’t be mad that we lied to him about our identities?”

“He’ll be pissed, but we’ll remind him that his partners in…space are missing.”

“Then he’ll assume the worst.”

“Assume we made them missing or that something else did?” Tim glanced back at you, studying your face. There had always been a question hanging around in the air about your sister’s family whereabouts from the moment you two had encountered your first black hole back at her house.

“Either way, this isn’t going to end well,” you sighed as you traced a finger down a heavily penned page. Several lines of Robert’s writing started to stand out to you, “Listen to this.”

There are no stars here my friend, there isn’t even light. It was all lies those philosophers told us. They never liked an astronomer, we were the real believers, the real cloud gazers and dreamers. But they lied to our star-crossed faces! And now it is too late, I’ve seen past the clouds. Do you know the clouds of Andromeda yell and scream like the winds from the hurricanes of the Caribbean. Except worse. They want to be heard, so now they stretch their screams to our pockets of life.

Have you heard their screams? I have one too many times, but I can no longer deny their pull, I need to know why Andromeda threw its tantrum. And my dear friend, I’ve seen it…if only those philosophers could see what I’ve seen, they would roll off their pedestals! Soon they will see and so will you! Just as your children have seen!

Below Robert’s deranged writing was a scribbled image of what you presumed was what he saw in Andromeda: a pitch black circle with rubbed shading encircling the solid circle. Many lines seemed to swirl around the solid dot, showing the lines ending in the circle. Your fingers traced over the complete black dot, feeling the heavy lines of Robert’s black pen dig into the paper to the point the middle of the circle was torn.

“Do you think he was writing to your sister, seemed like he knew her through letters, maybe this whole notebook was for her to read?” Tim questioned as he turned at the light after Robert.

“Could be. He keeps talking about how the stars aren’t fixed as other astronomers thought, that over time they evolve. But this star hasn’t evolved, it’s different.” Your eyes grew as your fingers scanned and scanned the pages, looking for more answers.

They don’t know what Andromeda holds, but I do and you will soon.

“You’ve said that name a few times now, Andromeda?” Tim looked back at you.

You shook your head, “I’m not entirely sure now. The books from the library called it a galaxy, my sister called it a dark star, but Robert denies both claims. It sounds as though it’s whatever is making these black sucking holes appear all over the place?” your voice shook as you asked the question to Tim but also to yourself.

“Says the scribbles of a madman,” Tim huffed out.

“We’re taking the word of a madman,” You watched the rain sprinkle down on the car in front of you. Night had finally come, lights from the city could be seen from behind you, but in front of you was the darkness of the Atlantic Ocean. You breath stuttered then, “we’re literally following a madman to fucking death right now Tim.”

It was hushed but Tim still heard it. He grabbed hold of your hand, enlacing your fingers with a tight grip, “That isn’t happening. I’ve run into robbers, forgers, smugglers, and even murderers before. It’s part of my job to know how to handle whatever may come our way.”

“How the hell do we handle dark stars or whatever these sucking holes are? This guy isn’t any sort of criminal, Tim. He’s fucked in his head. Look at this drawing? It’s the same as the map.” You pointed to a new page near the back of the notebook, the same scribbles of a setting sun skull, a flow of something unknown, and a lighthouse bulb. “Nothing makes sense other than we’re walking straight into death.”

“It will, it will make sense soon enough,” Tim stopped at the stop light, relieved to have a moment from driving. “Tell me, what is it that we do, what we’ve been doing?”

You shook your head while a tear fell from your face, “Running around or running away like headless chickens.”

“Investigating. Researching. Asking questions and finding answers. That's what we’ve been doing and what we will continue to do once we get to the lighthouse. Robert knows what’s happening, and soon we’ll know as well.” Tim laced his hand into your hair and pulled you head to his lips, kissing your head before pulling away and looking down at your adoring eyes. “I promised we would find out what happened to your sister. We will and we’ll get out of this alive. You understand that?”

You nodded just as Tim kissed your head again and stepped on the gas for the green light.

You watched the amazing man closely as you both sped ahead.

“You think he’ll explain to us his secrets?”

“Everyone has their secrets, it’s only a matter of time before they come out. One way or another, they always do.” Tim’s response was clear and even, something he had said many times before. He rolled his neck and loosened his shoulders.

“Sore?”

“I feel as if I’ve been tense for more than 24 hours now. My back will be killing me tomorrow.”

You closed the notebook and tossed it to the dashboard. Reaching over to Tim, you moved your hand to his neck and began to rub the pads of your fingers in circles on his neck. Tim huffed and you watched a small smirk play on his lips.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Tim quickly glanced at you then back to the road, “You're the one rubbing my neck, I should be thanking you.”

“Thank you for being here…with me. No matter what happens, thank you for trying.”

“That’s not needed,” Tim’s voice graveled out.

“Yes it is. This case could have been passed over again, but you took it. You could have thrown it out after what happened at my sister’s house or at the library, but instead you just took me in. You gave me your jacket, let me sleep on your couch, let me tag along for this whole case. You didn’t need to do any of that.”

“You had every right to be working this case, and there was no way I was going to let you out of my sight.”

“I’m glad for it, Tim,” you whispered as you leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I’m glad to have met you, to have been with you.”

“I am as well,” Tim said as he parked the car on the side of the lighthouse. He turned the engine off and turned towards you. “None of this would be possible without you, I would have been sucked down a hole in a laundry room without you, or hit on the head by a book from a librarian,” Tim smiled as he held your face.

“That librarian did not like you.”

“See, we protect each other.”

A smile cracked your once teary face. Tim pulled you to him again, landing his lips to yours. He sucked the breath out of you as his hands cradled your face. Firmly, Tim held you to him till you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his. You held each other a moment, hearing the rush of waves against the beach. Finally Tim spoke up.

“Let’s get some answers out of this apparent astronomer.”

You followed him out of the car and watched as he tossed his jacket into the seat and rolled up his sleeves. Walking steadily together, Tim took your hand in his.

Robert was already ahead of the two of you at the base of the lighthouse. Even in the cover of night, the old historic St. Joseph’s lighthouse loomed over the somber ocean. No light roamed over the ocean here, you didn’t even know if there was even a bulb at the top. The lighthouse itself was built from weathered, red brick. Majority of the red was gone now, covered in salt from the sea and dyed from the sun. You didn’t know how long St. Joseph’s lighthouse was in use or when it opened but it obviously wasn’t in use today.

The question of if the lighthouse was operable was on your tongue, but before you good voice your question Robert interjected.

“Did you see the rocket launch? I had a tremendous view right here at the top of the lighthouse,” Robert said as his hair picked up in the wind.

You nodded, “We saw it from our house.”

“Always exciting, isn’t it?” Robert laughed and smiled to himself, “Just knowing the grand step in history humankind is making. Some people only dream of these things coming true.”

“Like philosophers?” Tim questioned.

Robert’s eyes opened wide, “How like minded are we my friend! Those philosophers could never take the steps we take.”

“Steps to Andromeda, right Robert?” you questioned.

Robert held his hands up as you and Tim came to a stop, “They don’t know her like we know her.” Robert laughed then, “By the heavens, we hardly even know her.”

“But we will soon?”

“Exactly Ruth! Tonight is the night we three have been preparing for.”

“What exactly are we waiting for though Robert?” Tim called out as the whirl of wind picked up.

“I know your impatient James, but the route to ascension has to be perfect. Now I’ve checked our calculations and observations and they all run true! It won't be long before we reach behind Andromeda’s ghastly veil..” Robert looked behind him then to something you and Tim could not see yourselves.

“Robert, listen, we’ve read your research, we’ve seen your drawings—” Tim called out.

“Good! I knew you would enjoy my research, there’s so much data I would love to pour over with you, but another time James.” Robert called over a loud scratch of metal.

“The hell is going on back there?” Tim took a step forward.

“The time has come my friends,” Robert spoke as he clutched the metal railing in front of him while glancing behind his shoulder.

“Robert, listen we need to have a serious talk about what is going on,” Tim took another step forward.

“Please, Robert, what is this? What have you drawn?” you step in front of Tim then, holding up Robert’s journal with the drawing of the completely black and ripped circle.

Robert stared at his own drawing before closing his eyes and chanting:

“But they must not waste repentance on the grizzly savant’s fate;

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;

I have loved the stars too truly to be fearful of the night.”

“Well at least he’s a sentimental madman,” Tim whispered to you before you elbowed him.

Another gust of wind snuck up to Robert then, making you realize that the wind of the ocean was blowing a different way than the wind near Robert. “Tim…I think…”

“You seem like a decent fellow that could hold his own in a fight.” Robert looked to Tim.

“I can and have,” Tim replied with his hand lingering on his hip.

“Good.” Then Robert looked over at you, “Ruth, you aren’t going to be thrilled with what I’m about to do. But this is the way it goes for me. We’ll see each other soon enough, but before I go I would like you to know that your correspondence has meant the universe to me. To meet another brilliant minded individual like myself made this corner of the universe bearable for a change.” Robert placed his hand on his heart and nodded to you before turning back to Tim.

“James, I’m sure it would have been a thrill to get to know you as well. You and your wife are extraordinary people, and the universe agrees with me. While humankind takes a step,” Robert glanced up to the stars, “You’ll be making a leap. Just remember to hold on to each other tightly when it comes time for that leap.”

“And where are you leaping off to?” Tim shouted as Robert stepped towards the door in a rush.

“To the black hole,” Robert laughed out as he pointed to the drawing still in your hand. With that Robert slammed the door shut behind him with a loud thud of a lock.

Tim rushed the solid door, slamming his shoulder into the wood. The detective could hear the sound bending metal and the increase of a whirling wind. Over and over again Tim slammed his shoulder against the door, fully aware of what he should expect on the other side. Yet Tim continued on banging his hand on the old door, rattling the handle until his eyes locked on the rusting metal keyhole on the door.

“Stand behind me,” Tim called out to you as he pulled out his gun, aiming it at the lock and pulling the trigger. A loud clang pierced the air, while a large bullet hole smoked out of the rusted lock. Tim made another attempt at slamming his shoulder to the door, noticing there was more give as he could hear the sound of wood splintering. Tim then suddenly stopped.

“Shit.”

You rushed to face him, looking between him and the door, “What? What’s wrong?”

“There must be a wooded barrier on the other side, and I can hear it clearly breaking.”

Between the panic of Tim trying to break the door and shooting the lock, you hadn’t noticed the whirling of air and breaking of metal ending from inside the lighthouse.

You shook your head to the thought of what Robert had done, “Together, let’s open it together.”

Tim searched your eyes quickly for any signs of panic but found you were uncertain about this whole thing as he was. Together you both lined your shoulders up to the door and slammed into it, sending splinters of wood scattered around the nearly empty lower room of the lighthouse. The only thing left for you and Tim was the abandoned and broken radio laying on the floor with a small spiral of smoke leaving it.

“Scratch marks on the floor, there must have been a desk and chair here, maybe a bookcase,” Tim theorized in a hushed tone.

You both entered the small, circular room; taking in the empty quiet of the brick walls.

“Now what? Anything here has been swept away,” Tim said as he crouched down to inspect the radio. “Nothing special about this radio, just another piece of junk. What was he thinking? Does he assume that those holes take them to some other place entirely?” Tim turned and looked at you clutching and running your fingers in circles over the black drawing.

“To the black hole,” you mumbled to mostly to yourself but loud enough for Tim to hear.

“Honey?”

“To the black hole,” your eyes opened wider as you looked up from the drawing and towards the spiraling stairwell. Quickly you launched up the stairs with Tim calling after you. His long legs quickly carried him to catch up with you, grabbing your arm and stopping you.

“Hey, hey, now. What is going on?” Tim’s brow furrowed as he looked between your eyes in search of the madness that Robert had in his own eyes.

“The map! Robert’s map showed us what to do next. Don’t you see?” you said excitedly. Pulling out the map that Robert had tucked in his journal. “Here, these three drawings we couldn’t figure out.”

Tim looked down at the drawings you pointed to, “Yes?”

“Look at the first one.”

“The skull in the setting sun?”

“Yes, maybe that skull is for Robert. Maybe it’s a…” you paused to think over your words, “Maybe it means sacrifice. Maybe when the sun has set, the first step is a sacrifice.”

“First step to the route of ascension?”

“Yeah. Ascension to the black hole of Andromeda.”

Tim went quiet, stroking your arm in his hand.

“I know it isn’t pretty, but this is making sense to me now. We have to keep going,” you pleaded as you looked into Tim’s concerned eyes. He sighed and looked back down the stairs to the broken radio, then back at you.

“What’s the next step?” Tim’s voice was low and rumbled out to you.

Relieved, you looked back at the map.

“This flowing pattern. Maybe it’s the tide? Or maybe the Northern Lights? Either way we need to go up to the top.” you turned away from him then, heading up the stairs.

“To get a better view.” Tim lightly patted your butt as he followed

You both climbed the spiral staircase up to the top room of the old brick lighthouse. A short ladder and hatch led up to the final platform where the bulb was located. Tim climbed first, busting the latch open with a thud and helping you up to the platform. In the middle of the platform was a giant light bulb for the lighthouse. You both walked around the bulb, running your fingers over the wave emitting pattern of the several panels of the bulb. Tiny rainbows colored the glass panels of it; you couldn’t help but smile at how similar the bulb was to Robert’s sketch. But that wasn’t the only thing to catch your eye. The view from the lighthouse was spectacular, even under the gloom of the night. There were silver lit stars sprinkling the sky above a salty ocean breeze rolling onto the beach and wrapping around the lighthouse. Your mind reeled back to the beauty of the planetarium earlier, where the universe danced above you, only it seemed as if the universe was watching you now. Before and under you though, was an equally perplexing site. The deep sky embraced the sea for miles and miles from your viewpoint. There was no line of absolute, no end nor beginning, all of it sank and ebbed together. Tim snaked an arm around your hip, anchoring the two of you to the railing as you both looked out at the kingdom before you.

“Not too bad,” Tim whispered into your ear.

You laughed and leaned into him, “Not bad at all.” You looked up at Tim then, catching his eye as he turned down to you. Your hand reached up and cupped his cheek. Neither of you leaned in, but instead opted to stare into each others eyes, taking the other in as much as possible before…

“What the hell is that?” Tim questioned as he lifted his head from yours suddenly.

You looked to where he was looking but saw nothing.

“What did you see?”

“It was a light? A glow?” Tim leaned harder into you and the railing. “Just watch, give it a second.”

Quietly you both watched the waves crash in, the wind blow the palm trees, and the clouds move with the wind. And then there it was. A sparkle, then two, and then four. Soon more and more began to shift and illuminate in the sea and sky. You held your breath and clutched Tim’s hand.

“Is it in the sea or the sky?”

“I…I can’t tell.”

Through the sky and maybe reflected into the sea, or maybe from the depths of the ocean to illuminate the sky, or perhaps equally from the abysses of the horizons; you watched as a stream of sparkling cyan blue lights flashed from beyond your eyes to the lighthouse. You could see the direct path they made to you as the lights swayed with the wind and rolled with the waves, sparkling in the direct line and not filling the entirety of the sky.

Entranced by the show before you, neither you or Tim saw the shift in the bulb of the lighthouse. It was the change in wind that alerted you to turn around. Slow, still in Tim’s arms, you turned to the once clear lighthouse bulb. Inside the panels of glass was a circulating black hole. You dropped Roberts journal to grab hold of Tim in a firm grip.

“This isn’t like the others,” Tim proclaimed as his own hand grabbed your waist.

“No, but what now, is it trapped in there?” your voice quivered.

Neither of you moved or spoke. Instead you both stared at the swirling black hole capsuled in the lighthouse bulb. The wind that turned about the platform was soft and gentle, swirling round and round.

“It feels different, Tim,” you looked up at him expectantly.

His observant eyes looked over the circumstance before you.

“It’s not sucking us in. It’s as if it’s just waiting for us.” Tim looked down at you to confirm his thoughts, which you heartily agreed.

“The wind, the air, I feel almost lighter right now.”

“Like floating?”

“Yeah, like floating, Tim,” you smiled at him then to the black hole.

“Well that's a nice difference for a change.” Tim smiled down at you.

As if you were walking on your toes and slowly being levitated up, you wandered closer to the bulb. With Tim’s hand in yours, and the swift caress of wind through your hair, you both stood in front of the bulb. Only a step away from the glass panel, you placed your hand to the glass. A blue light flickered and disappeared.

“It needs power.”

You looked over to Tim then.

“The last step, lit the lighthouse.” Tim continued as he stared into your eyes before looking over to the power box next to the bulb. He walked past you and flipped the box open. A few seconds later, with the flip of a few switches. Tim stopped his motions and looked back up to you.

“Is this what you want?” The sweet concern was etched all over his face. “I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I want you to be safe no matter what.”

You placed both hands on the glass panel, watching the blue lights spiral out of the hole once more. “I feel safe. With you here I feel safe.”

Tim nodded and without looking away from you, flipped the final switch. A loud hum emitted through the lighthouse below you. Tim stood quickly, grabbing the hand you held out to him. Both of you took a step back from the bulb and watched as instead of a yellow light, a blue light slowly emitted from the bulb. It started out small, then slowly started to grow in size with each pass of the circulating bulb.

“This is crazy, you know that right,” Tim called out as you both watched the bulb turn and turn.

“Which part? The glowing light in the sky and ocean or the tiny black hole in the lighthouse bulb?” you laughed and looked over to Tim who was watching you with a fond smile.

“You're smiling.”

“I am.”

The blue light of the bulb circled again, growing brighter.

“You know, I've wanted to make you smile since the moment I met you.”

You giggled, “You’ve made me smile many times since then Tim!”

Turning steadily now, the blue light petrified into the darkness of the ocean and sky.

“Just once more. For me.”

“I’ll smile many more times for you.”

Tim pulled you to him then, bringing you in for a passionate kiss. His arms encircled you, bonding the two of you together again as his lips crashed with yours. You leaned into him breathing him in and taking everything you could in that moment. The scent of his breezy cologne, the scratch of his beard, the soft curls of his hair, his protruding nose, his large hands and sturdy shoulders. There was nothing you wanted to miss or let go of in this man. He wasn’t what you were looking for but a beautiful gift you had found. You would keep him close no matter what.

It took everything out of Tim not to suffocate himself in you, for it was something he would gladly do. Maybe this was the end of the line for you two, maybe this was something new to investigate together. Either way he was letting you go, nothing was tearing him away from you.

Grabbing a breath of air, with your foreheads bound to each other, you both looked from each other and to the lighthouse bulb. The spinning of the bulb was at full speed, cyan blue light sparkling round and round to the horizon. But inside the bulb was different now. The glass paneling was gone, and the small swirling black hole had totally engulfed the lightbulb with the sparkling blue light emitting from the darkness of the hole. Still, the air felt light, the wind was soft, and your lungs and heart were full.

You looked up at Tim then and he at you. A smile played at the corner of his lips, making you break out in a giggle. It was all so beautiful and scary, but just perfectly right. Together, hand in hand you both reach out to the swirling black hole.

You don’t know if you were sucked into the hole, or if the sparkle of stars overwhelmed your bodies. Maybe the light passed you and Tim one last rotation and blinded you. Maybe the ocean and the sky’s darkness overtook you. Or perhaps you found your family, or found your eureka. But even when a member of the historic society would come by for a check up on the lighthouse, he would find nothing but a broken radio. The only thing you and Tim knew for certain out of all the millions of ripples of stardust of the cosmos, was the warm embrace of each other and the trail of a brave new investigation.

#Pedro Pascal #Tim Rockford #merge mansion #tim rockford x you #tim rockford x f!reader #tim rockford x female reader

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