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yanderecrazysie · 8 months ago

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Twisted Zoo: Chapter 10

Surprise! Sorry for the lack of Jack content in this one.

I feel like this sucks but at least I wrote something ;-;

Prologue: here

Previous Chapter: here

Next Chapter: here

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @vash-yuu @twstsandturns @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 @silkkorchid @the-ace-reader @pamv11 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @hrhqueenfox @goseew @luxthestrange @juno-of-wonderland @who-mst @despairingy-obsessed @lanxianschoenheit @ceramic-raven @m0063576 @kimdourden @rammylog @sushiperson @starshiningsirius @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-monochrome-jester @owodi @girl-nahh-two @obeythehuman @berry-efoy @ivorette @the-broken-truth @losingmybrain @sxftiebee @queens-unheard-thoughts @medicine-san @strugglingsleeper and @rocketstyx wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (I have removed the tags that weren’t working for me, apologies if yours was removed!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you.

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

NOTE 2: I decided to make this a little fluffy before shit goes down.

—-------------------------------------------------------

It was your turn to feed the halflings dinner again. The hyenas, lions, and wolves all were going to be given the same food: hamburgers. Each was individually wrapped, and there must have been a hundred of them between the two giant buckets you were forced to carry.

Surely that’s way too much for even all three groups combined! You groaned as you lifted the buckets. Your arms were definitely going to get a workout from this.

You trudged into the savannah, your arms already aching from the heavy load you were forced to carry. Thankfully, the hyenas were gathered on the rocks not far from the entrance.

Ruggie’s eyes lit up as soon as they saw you, letting out a bark of excitement as he leapt down from the rock he had been sitting on with the grace of a cat. He stopped a few feet away from you, as though he were waiting for a signal from you.

You placed the buckets on the ground and lifted your hands in a calming gesture, “You know I’m not going to hurt you, Ruggie. I’ve just brought food for you all.”

Ruggie grinned and bounded forward, taking you by surprise as he pulled you into a hug, rubbing his cheek against your own. He pulled away, a sly grin on his face as he stole a burger from the left bucket and slipped away, climbing onto a large rock and unwrapping the food.

You felt a little flustered by the sudden show of affection but, with a shake of your head, you dismissed his odd behavior. Yet, Ruggie’s eyes never left your figure, his tail wagging back and forth as though he was thrilled to be able to see you.

When he came for his second helping, he reached out a hand and slid it beneath your chin. He drew his face closer until you could feel his hot breath playing across your lips. For a moment, you thought he was about to kiss you, but he spoke up instead, stumbling a little over his words, “You are special to me.”

“I am?” you were taken aback by his sudden confession.

“Yes,” Ruggie said with a wide smile, “You’re my favorite!”

“Favorite what? Researcher? Aren’t I the only researcher you know?”

Nishishishi. Ruggie giggled at your confusion, “Favorite. (Y/n) is my favorite.”

Completely nonplussed now, you gave him an awkward smile, “You’re a strange one, Ruggie.”

His smile morphed into a pout, “Am I favorite?”

You reached out a hand and messed up his fluffy blond hair, “You’re my favorite Ruggie in the whole world.”

He gave you an annoyed look, his hyena ears flat on his head. It was clear he was hoping you’d be a little less specific. But you couldn’t tell him something like “you’re my favorite hyena”, as that wouldn’t be fair to the other halflings.

You took a seat on the rock as the other hyenas came for their second helpings, skirting around you with nervous looks. Ruggie practically threw himself onto your lap, his stomach back landing on your legs as he gazed up at you. You almost shivered when you saw his expression.

His gaze was hungry, eyes dark and lips pulled into a sinister smile. He lifted a hand and cupped your cheek. He whispered something and, though it was too quiet to tell, it sounded suspiciously like he had said “mine”.

Then, his eyes fluttered closed, his hand flopped to his side, and his breathing turned even. It took you a moment to realize he had fallen asleep. You were a bit jealous that he could fall asleep so quickly and easily (it took you much longer to settle down at night).

Some of the hyenas came for a third helping, but once all of them had deposited their wrappers in a pile near the buckets, you realized you had to move on. “Ruggie, time to wakey wakey,” you teased.

Ruggie’s eyes fluttered open and his peaceful expression became cross. His hyena ears flattened themselves against his head again and his tail lashed once, but he obediently stood up, freeing your lap so you could stand as well.

You took the wrappers to a trash can near the entrance of the enclosure and returned to the buckets. Ruggie watched you from on top of a rock, eyes sad as he watched you walk away. You felt a little bad, but you had to move on. You couldn’t just spend the entire evening with the hyenas when you had to see the lions and wolves too.

The buckets were still heavy and you felt your arms ache as you took the long walk over to the lion halflings. As you approached, Leona sat up on the rock he was lounging on. You put down the buckets and waved at him.

He leapt down from the rock gracefully and walked towards you. When he was just a few feet away, he stopped dead in his tracks and his nose screwed up in disgust, “You smell like hyena. You let one of those bone-eaters scent you?”

“Huh?” you were confused for a moment before you remembered the way Ruggie rubbed his cheek against yours and lounged across your lap. Was he scenting you then?

“Disgusting,” Leona snapped, reaching out and snatching your wrist, “You should smell like lion.” His face drew closer and you snapped out of your surprise and confusion, pulling your wrist out of his grasp and taking a step back.

“You shouldn’t be surprised I smell like hyenas, considering you aren’t the only halflings I care for,” you snapped, “That doesn’t give you permission to scent me too!”

Leona let out a growl deep in his throat and you involuntarily took another step back. His eyes narrowed, as though he was deep in thought. Then, a somewhat sinister smile spread across his face, “Of course, you’re right.” Somehow, his tone seemed condescending, as though you were too stupid to understand him, “I’ll have a talk with the hyenas, and no one will scent you again.”

A shiver ran up your spine, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh but I do,” Leona growled, “Now, you brought us food, I believe? Or are you going to stand there gaping like a fish?”

You closed your mouth and pursed your lips into a deep frown. Leona was really getting on your nerves, “Yeah, I did. Feel free to grab something, your highness.”

Leona didn’t seem offended by your dig, if anything, a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. He grabbed a wrapped burger from the bucket closest to him and leaned in as close as he could while doing so.

The other lions followed his example, grabbing burgers and eating them under the tall rock that Leona had resumed lounging on. The king of the jungle gazed at you with darkened eyes and you were surprised to read the jealousy on his features. Was the great Leona really jealous of some hyenas?

You tried to shake the ridiculous idea from your mind, but you just couldn’t believe otherwise when you looked at his expression. You didn’t like the way he gazed across the savannah at the group of hyenas with a sneer on his lips.

“Leona,” you called up to him. He turned his furious gaze on you, eyes burning, and you shut your mouth, the words dying on your tongue, “Never mind.” You picked up the buckets and turned around. You heard a light thump as Leona jumped down from the rock again.

Arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to a toned chest. You grabbed his wrists and tried to wrench them from your body but Leona didn’t budge. “Let me go,” you demanded firmly.

The lion halfling placed his chin on your shoulder and let out a sigh, “Why do you tempt me so?”

You furrowed your brow, “That sounds like a ‘you problem’. Now let go.”

Leona obeyed with a chuckle, his arms disappearing from your waist, “You’re entertaining, you know that?”

You refused to look back, angry that he had put his hands on you, and simply walked away. You didn’t breathe again until the enclosure door shut behind you. You leaned against the wall and slid to the ground, entirely nonplussed by what had gone on between you and the lion halfling.

You took a moment to process the encounter, then stood up with a sigh. You hoped all of the lions’ bellies had been filled with only one burger, since you hadn’t stuck around long. You checked your watch and were happy to see that it was still fairly early. That way, it wouldn’t be too dark out when you brought the burgers to the wolves.

You hurried down the pathway to the wolf enclosure, looking off in the distance where the sun was beginning to turn the sky pink and orange. Maybe if you hurried, the wolves wouldn’t all want to kill you.

Unfortunately, as you entered the enclosure, the only wolf you were met with was Jack. That wasn’t to say you weren’t happy to see him, especially as he gave you the most endearing smile ever.

“Is there any way to feed the other wolves without getting my skin torn off?” you asked him.

Jack shook his head and your heart sank. He seemed to notice your disappointment because he spoke up, “But you have me.”

“I know, Jack,” you sighed, “But I want to get to know the other wolves too.”

Jack’s smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed a little, “But you have me. I protect you.”

“I appreciate that, I really do,” you said in a soothing voice, “But I need to interact with all of the halflings, not just you.”

Jack’s expression darkened, his shoulders hunching over, “They’re dangerous. They hurt you. I can’t let anything happen to you,” his voice grew tight with emotion, and he looked down at you with such a lost expression that your heart twisted.

“Maybe if you help me, they will grow to like me,” you suggested. Jack shook his head and grabbed the buckets off the ground. Before you could protest, he disappeared into the forest.

You tried to follow, but he had completely left you behind. Soon enough, you were lost in the trees, looking this way and that, before Jack returned to you with empty buckets.

“They have eaten,” he said gruffly.

You sighed, “Thanks…” Jack didn’t seem to understand your disappointment, as he merely took your hand in his larger one and led you back to the enclosure exit. He smiled gently at you and said in a soft voice, “Safe.”

You couldn’t really argue with that.

Ruggie and Leona watched in amusement as the zoo staff brought out the body bags from the wolf enclosure across the path from them. “She’s becoming quite popular,” Leona murmured, “Enough for a wolf to turn against his own pack.”

Ruggie pouted, “I want her to be mine. Not anyone else’s.”

Leona chuckled darkly, “You’ll have to put those thoughts aside if you really want to take our deal. You know that a war against lions who obey only me and hyenas that will run away with their tails between their legs will end in only one way.”

Ruggie’s ears flattened against his head, “I’ll share, but only with you. Three’s a crowd.”

The lion nodded, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland

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deancasforcutie · 9 months ago

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#which isn't saying you can't be critical of the writing #but you know what...genuinely critical assessments of writing on TV shows has been mostly replaced by "this entire thing sucks and i hate i #and “everything good is by accident and nobody on this show can write” #and “i'm going to hate the very people who wrote the scenes I keep reblogging and having big feelings over” #while an astounding amount of letting the studios and a corrupt system go un-criticized #even to the point of accusing anyone who criticizes the system instead of by default attacking creatives get accused of being crazy #all this what the op said -- you couldn't be a corporate studio stan any harder if you tried (via @dotthings)

“Wait, there are people blaming the writers?”

Are you surprised? Fandoms have become notorious anti-writer spaces. Studios love you guys. They can cut the budgets, cut the number of writers, cut the wages of the writers, and you guys always blame the writers. “The writers ruined the show!” It’s never “the studios ruined the show.”

I hate to break it to you: more than half the shows you complain were “ruined by the writers”, were ruined by the studios. Studios cut the scenes and arcs you were excited for. Studios cut the budget of the show, or even raise the budget of the show and force a “bigger, louder, bolder” tone on shows that were unexpected hits (this is where we get “the Netflix look” on every show post-Stranger Things and Queen’s Gambit).

You guys do not do your research. Half your fanfics are tagged with bad faith digs at the writers, when a few searches would reveal how strapped that show was and how poorly the writers were treated. Writers are being given a single week to write each episode—I’m not kidding, one-week-per-episode is one of the reasons for the strike. How are good arcs and scenes supposed to happen under that time limit, with a max of only four writers?

Tumblr, the self-proclaimed “pro-union, pro-worker, pro-artist” site is also a major fandom site. You guys rarely practice good faith consumer etiquette for television and film writers, because your fandom salt always turns you against writers. And studios love you for it.

Yeah, individual writers do create bad writing from time to time. But so do painters, chefs, and musicians. Directors and actors sometimes refuse to film certain scenes or follow a show’s projected style and arc, and the writers always get the crap for a bad performance or a poorly directed episode. This isn’t to blame actors or directors; it’s to point out that you guys have one villain, and it’s always the writers. You guys never give writers the same grace you give animators, designers, directors, actors, composers, and editors.

Studios love you every time you say “the writers ruined the show.” Every single popular fandom is guilty of this. View any of the “why did the writers cut this scene, they hate my characters” talk when leaked scenes hit the internet. Writers barely get paid for what they do write. You think they’re writing scenes and then happily throwing them in the shredder? You guys just eat the talk that studios put out. Always have.

#I am Jack's complete lack of surprise that the strike changed Nothing about this. Karen/bootlicker behavior #wank adjacent

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absolutebl · 2 months ago

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This Week in BL - Some Surprises

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

NOV 2024 Week 1

Ongoing Series - Thai

Fourever You (Thai Thurs YT) ep 5 of 16 - I love this show, but I absolutely hate the main couple's communication style. Or complete lack of communication style. I really hope the other couples are not gonna be this bad and it’s just because this one is leaning into the worst of BL archetypes. But I’m not confident. Poor Ter dating Hill put a big old target on his back. Earth being a dramatic stressed gay queen was peak comedy tho. Apparently the good kisses are only on WeTV (I am annoyed) so props to the giffers who keep me supplied. You're doing the BL gods work.

I suddenly realized, after the bullying sequence, that one of the reasons I’m liking this so much is it reminds me of early Japanese yaoi. There’s something about the dynamics of the characters and the way they're reacting to situations that’s not very Thai BL feeling. And if I think of this is more JBL, I forgive it. Or maybe that’s just why I’m liking it so much despite its flaws? Difficult to understand my own feels about this show.

Jack & Joker (Thai Mon IQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - I don’t like this new evil-bonkers rich kid character and whatever is going on with Jack and Rose and that whole story. It’s boring. And then my brain short circuited. No further thoughts... just War in a wife beater.

Love Sick 2024 (Thai Sun iQIYI) ep 7 of 15 - Phun's bitch face really is epically wonderful. I kinda enjoy everybody ribbing the two of them because they have no idea what’s actually going on. I'm chronicling my experience with 2024 as compared to 2014 here.

Kidnap (Fri YT) ep 9 of 12 - Omg cutest boyfriends EVER. I don’t even mind how cheesy their bf era is. Does this lull jive with the rest of the story? Nope. But ya know that’s GMMTV’s thing these days, flailing during the final act.

Perfect 10 Liners (Thai Sun YouTube?) ep 1 of 24 - Pretty standard Thai BL university fair. I am hoping it’s better than ForceBook’s previous offering. Yet another sniff test. Is this the trope of the year? Meanwhile, they also deployed the crash into me trope in episode one. Who do they think they are? Taiwan?

New is directing this uni BL with a massive cast + massive run time. It's an endurance test ya'll - we will be watching this until APRIL of 2025! Su su na.

Every You Every Me (Thai Mon Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - I really like that they had the bandwidth to give us a little side couple with this installment. Fun crumbs. Meanwhile, the thing with the shirt in front of the mirror was extremely sexy. This installment was very sad though. And, of course, I’m not happy about it. To top it all off, next week is musical themed, so you know I’m disgruntled about it.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga) ep 3 of 13 - Aw spoiled neglected rich boy wants to be cared for and spoiled honestly. I do love them. Also tiny idiot syndrome is spreading.

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 6 of ? - The side couple (teacher student, hyung romance but he’s using em) interesting. Not sure how I feel about them. The subs are so bad it’s largely incomprehensible but I’m still enjoying it for no defensible reason.

My Damn Business (Korea Sat YT) eps 5 of 7 - I love that our uke can be such a little shit. I love it when a tsundere has some serious snark and attitude to back his petulance up. Also liquid courage. At least we got to the root of the tsundere. Also neck kisses and cuddles!

Eccentric Romance (Korea Weds Viki) eps 7-8 of 12 - Oooo, cute kiss. Drunken but adorable. I do like it when they use older Korean actors in KBL, they actually know how to kiss. Has the kiss saved this show? Possibly. I’m shallow.

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues Netflix?) 7 of 10 eps - Our con man is such a good little homemaker. And it’s sexy yukata time! Love this trope.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Same plot as the Thai original, only from Japan. Very similar so far. I hope Rei is a bit more smart and Arashi is a bit less of a sleaze. I still get too much secondhand embarrassment and my mame alert is blaring. I'm wary.

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days (China Sun iQIYI) eps 1-2 - Triggers for child abuse, alcoholism. Two artists, one an abused rich kid and the other a tough scrappy poor kid, in the same art prep school. I of course adore the side couple of the much younger kid and the older teacher. Oh, I do like it. But it's CBL, I'm very scared as to where it might go.

Bad to Bed (Taiwan Sat YouTube) ep 1 of 10 - Influencer Wan Xiong suffers from insomnia, it’s a physical and mental battle. As he tried to find a solution, he encounters five boys along the way. I'm putting this on the list because it's airing and I just found out about it but I didn't have time to watch it yet. I hear it's v weird.

It's airing but...

The Hidden Moon (Sat WeTV) 10 eps - Supernatural romance (my ghost boyfriend trope) by Violet Rain (I Feel You Linger). A man is hired to write an article about an old mansion. He sees the ghosts of people who died at the mansion, falls in love with one of them. Was substantially recast. I loved IFYLITA except the ending so I think I'll let this one run it's course you can tell me if it's work tracking down... if they managed to land it. I have my doubts.

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - I DNF'd at ep 7, I couldn't make it. I am weak. Life is hard enough right now, this show is making it harder. It’s not what I want from my entertainment.

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (Korea Thurs Gaga) eps 4 of 8 - I put this one on pause. It's too heavy for me right now. I'll wait to know if the ending is hard fought happy (and then watch) or not (and won't finish). Sorry all, rough times this side of the screen.

Random I watched it

Vending Machine Sabi Koi AKA Can I Buy Your Love From A Vending Machine AKA Sono Koi, Jihanki de Kaemasu ka? (Japan 2023) - This show is utterly adorable, impossibly awkward, and kinda old fashioned. About a cute nerdy little office worker (he's out!) who has a big'ol crush on the tall hulking vending machine guy. They fall in love. And that’s it. And it’s charming. There’s some first name eroticism, because Japan, and there's emphasis on communication, which is so not Japan, but turns this into an organically loving and talkative relationship. There’s a bit of an age gap, and our office cutie may or may not have a muscles fetish (the hot bod not the shellfish) because (if I’ve told you once I’ve told you 1 million times) Japan always goes kinky. And you know what, I loved it. 9/10

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

November BL:

11/4 Our Youth AKA Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu (Japan Mon Gaga?) 11 eps - Minase was an exemplary high school student who hates Hirukawa, head bully and top delinquent. But then Minase uncovers Hirukawa’s secret and the two get intimate.

11/15 Caged Again (Thai Fri WeTV) 10 eps - Penguin escapes zoo by turning into a human. Gets trapped again and a panther falls in love with him.

11/17 Your Sky (Thai iQIYI) 12 eps - Due to an unforeseen situation, a naive freshman and the campus’s popular senior agree to pretend to be a couple - but their fake deal begins to generate real feelings.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Honor the crumbs indeed. This pair is so much crumbs it's practically dust. (Love Sick 2014)

God he is so stupidly in love.

(lask week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many at-ings.

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turtles-invoked · 16 days ago

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“How come you can’t fly?” Jack asks Castiel randomly one afternoon. Him, Jack, Dean, and Sam sit at the long table in the library, the brothers sharing a beer, Jack and Cas just happy to be in their company.

Well, maybe it wasn’t as random as it seemed. Jack was curious about The Apocalypse after Dean’s possession. They explained it all in as much detail as they could, Sam even offering as much as loosing his soul and how that affected him, and then how it affected Cas. Which lead to the Leviathan’s and then somehow they ended up talking about their time in Purgatory which naturally lead to Naomi’s control over Cas and then Metatron’s betrayal which leaves them where they’re up to now at the Great Fall… at least that’s what they’ve been calling it.

All eyes turn to Cas. The conversation comes to a halt at the somewhat intrusive question. An uncomfortable, bubbling feeling begins to roll and churn in his stomach as his face begins to heat up.

He opens his mouth to start explaining but Sam had begun to answer for him, “because he fell with the angels.” He says it as if it was obvious, but when he looks around and takes in Dean’s frown and Cas’ squinted eyes and slight head tilt to the left he starts to doubt himself, “…right?”

Cas completely forgot that Sam was particularly unwell at the time of the Great Fall. No one ever spoke about his lack of wings after he became human and they were a little busy when Cas finally got what little of his Grace was left. Of course Sam wouldn’t know. Dean doesn’t even know it all, so how would Sam?

“No… I uh…” Cas started and looked around at all the faces watching him; Sam’s confused frown, Jack’s intrigued yet a little wary squint, and Dean’s sympathetic eyes.

“When I gave Metatron my grace…” he starts slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat, “naturally, I lost all of my powers, including my wings…”

“But you got it back?” Jack asks, still confused.

“Not all of it. What was left after the spell wasn’t enough to heal my body immediately.”

“But you said over time it will regenerate,” Jack argues.

“Correct, and it has, but-”

“Then you should be able to fly,” he says hopefully.

Cas shifts a little uncomfortably in his seat. Jack was looking so hopeful at him that it almost felt worse to crush that than it did to admit what really happened.

“Theoretically, yes…” he starts and spares a glance at Dean. The brothers hadn’t said anything more since Cas begun his story and it unnerved him a little.

“Since I never technically fell with the rest of the angels, my Grace should have healed them… but there is more to it than that.”

“Wait a second-” Sam cuts in leaning forward in his seat, “you didn’t fall with the angels?”

“No, at the time I was already human.”

Sam looks at him as if he’s trying to piece together everything but nothing quite makes sense.

Jack interjects this time, frowning as he asks, “you gave Metatron your grace?”

“He was played,” Dean says simply, a tinge of frustration in his tone.

Cas sighs in agreement, “while Sam was attempting to close the gates of Hell, I thought I was sealing Heaven…”

“You were going to lock all the angels away? Including you?” Jack interjects again.

This time Cas’ eyes snap to Dean who was staring straight at him. His expression remained stoic and neutral but his eyes were a little bit wider, more attentive, desperate for the answer too. Of course he wasn’t going to leave Dean, but they had never had a chance to have that conversation.

“No,” Cas says sincerely, then turns his attention back to Jack, “No, I was- am unwelcome in Heaven. Though, I would have stayed on Earth regardless.”

“Jack, we’re getting off track,” Sam points out waving his hands to backtrack to the original plot.

“Right, yes. I was tracking Metatron when a couple of his followers found me. I was captured an-”

“Alone?” Jacks asks surprised.

“Yes.”

“As a human?”

“No. No we found Metatron previously and captured him, however, he knew where the rest of my grace was. I was… dying… and at the time Metatron was cuffed… we didn’t- I didn’t think he could escape. He was weak but he did, and I was trying to… find him when some of his very few remaining loyalties found me. I was still weak…” he trails off becoming nervous again.

“Wait- you had Metatron, but you let him go so you could get your grace back!?” Sam asks incredulously.

Dean slaps his arm to shut him up, but Cas can feel the frustrated anger in Sam’s stare.

“For what it’s worth, I did not agree. It was Hannah who insisted. I assumed wrongly that the cuffs could contain him,” Cas feels his face flush with frustration. He was starting to lose track of his story with all the interruptions and emotions beginning to swell in his chest.

“All of this could have been avoided!” Sam exclaims.

“Yeah, and Cas would be dead!” Dean interjects for the first time since Cas started talking.

“I would not have survived much longer without it, I am sorry to disappoint,” he replies curtly and returns his attention to Jack’s big pleading eyes.

“What happened when they found you?” Jack asks softly.

“He…” Cas swallows the lump in his throat before he continues, “… he bound and tortured me…” he looked at his intertwined hands, talking to the table. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, could feel the thumping in his ears as the blood rushed through his body, the embarrassment working its way through his veins.

“He cut into me with my own angel blade, but he soon realised I would not give up Sam and Dean very easily, so he…. Resorted to more… intense… measures…” Cas swallows again… his mouth beginning to dry, and his eyes burn ever so slightly. Visions of his shirt ripped opened and bloodied, flashed through his mind. He could feel the tight, pulling, bounding of his wrists as he was suspended from the ceiling, toes barely touching the ground; the stinging of each carve into his skin. He even remembers his relief when he thought they had given up, but the devastation as he realised what they had planned to do next.

“Cas, you don’t have to talk about it…” Dean says carefully.

Cas shakes his head to try and push the memories away, “I thought when they stopped they had given up. But how wrong was I…”

He shifts in his seat, leaning back so he’s not so hunched over, his hands now in his lap, still clenched together.

“They sliced down my back… extracted my wings and-” Cas inhaled shakily before blowing it out, the corners of his eyes beginning to prickle.

“We get it,” Dean says softly. Cas looks up and meets his eyes. Dean offers a sympathetic smile while Jack looks like he may pass out. His face has paled a little, mouth hung open in disbelief,’“I didn’t think that was possible…”

“It was… excruciating. Had Hannah not found me when she did…” Cas looks sheepishly to Dean, “I would not have lasted long at all…”

“It’s okay,” Dean says in that same gentle tone.

“Cas- I-” Sam was at a loss for words, “I had no idea.”

“Of course not,” Cas replies a little too short.

“Have you tried to heal them?” Jack says quietly.

Cas gives him a flat smile, “yes. As well as Hannah and Gabriel. It appears they are damaged beyond repair…”

“May I try?”

All Cas can do is shake his head.

“Please let me try, Cas?”

At the same time as Dean says, “that’s enough,” Cas pushes his chair out and mumbles an, “excuse me,” not looking back at the table as he exits the room and heads for his own.

He can hear Jack and Dean arguing lightly with each other, but he pays it no more attention than he does the tears welling up in his eyes. When he approaches his room he shuts the door gently behind him and leans against it, sighing out deeply as the tears fall from his eyes freely.

He wipes them away and laughs to himself at his own humanity. ‘An angel crying,’ he thinks to himself. My, how far had he fallen indeed.

A knock at his door pulls him out of his self pity as well as a gentle soft call of his name, “Cas?” Cas could pick out Dean’s voice anywhere.

Cas wiped his face one more time before kicking off the door and opening it.

“You good?” Dean asks leaning against the frame.

Cas nods and tries to put on his best smile. But Dean raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms over his chest, looking straight through his facade.

Cas sighs and steps to the side to let him in, and shuts the door behind them.

He doesn’t have much in his room. His bed hasn’t been used in a couple of days, his few personal items are the books he’s snagged from the library to read while the boys sleep. Very bare compared to Dean’s.

Dean walks in and takes a seat at the edge of the bed facing Cas.

“Talk to me,” he says quietly, his hands folded between his legs.

Cas takes a seat next to Dean, hands clasped, and in his lap but he. Twiddles his thumbs, a nervous tick he developed as a human that he can’t get rid of of, “I-” but he doesn’t know what to say. Or where to start. Or how to explain it. Or if he even wants too. Because as soon as he starts to think about it again, the heaviness is back in his chest, and the warmth in his eyes returns, “-I can’t…”

He takes a moment to compose himself, to settle the heavy beating of his heart, and stares up at the ceiling. He takes a couple of breaths before looking over at Dean, his deep green eyes studying him, not judging, but observing, paying attention to every little move Cas makes. Cas looses his breath looking at him and how alluring his gaze is, so he focuses back on his hands and whispers, “I don’t believe this is something Jack can fix.”

“Why not let him try?”

“Would I be of more use to you if he succeeded?” Cas snaps before he could think and looks over to Dean again. The hurt in his eyes not gone unnoticed, but the pending answer in them tugged on his heart.

“It’s not about you being useful. It’s about you being you,” he replies in his defensive tone.

Cas sighs and looks back down to his hands. When he first lost his ability to fly it felt a lot like imprisonment. Human transportation is slow and tedious. Dean’s music and rambling did pass the time rather pleasantly, and he will admit that he does like his off key singing, enjoys it even, however it was no comparison to being able to “zap” places in a matter of milliseconds. The freedom to go anywhere in the universe at anytime whenever he wanted. Even after all these years, driving still makes him feel claustrophobic at times, something that will still probably take a while to get used to.

“Cas, you got to know you’re not here to be useful right?” Cas looks back up at him. The frown set in his brows mimicing the slight tinge of panic and worry in his voice.

Cas squints his eyes and frowns a little himself, “Of course I do,” and looks back down at his lap, “that was unfair of me to say, I apologise.”

“Good,” Dean says rather shortly.

“Besides,” Dean starts again, bumping their shoulders together, “I hated being zapped places anyways.”

Cas chuckles a little at his response, remembering Dean’s complaints of not being able to poop after they travelled together, or the uneasiness he felt in his stomach, or the one time his ear didn’t stop ringing for a whole day. Humans weren’t really designed for teleportation. But still, the weight of what he’s lost weighs heavily on his heart and mind. Always there in amongst the background noise. Deep down he knows he’s not kept around to be useful, but the guilt still lingers in the space between them whenever they have a long drive ahead, or rare ingredients to find for whatever spell they need.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“What for?”

“For telling Metatron where to find you and Sam��”

“But you didn’t…”

Cas turns to him then, “but I would have. I almost had. And for that, I am sorry.”

“Cas-”

“No Dean. I think about that moment all too often. The pain is something I will never forget, but I would have never forgiven myself had something happened to you because of my wrong doings… again.”

Dean didn’t try to protest again. Instead he places his hand over Cas’. It wasn’t until then he realises how tightly he had clenched them together. He allowed himself to relax a little, the warmth and slight clamminess of Dean’s touch grounding him.

“Can I see?” Deans voice, barely above a whisper, breaks through their silence.

“What?” Cas asks, more shocked that Dean would even want to see his broken wings than he is that he asked at all.

A blush fills Dean’s face faintly as he pulls his hand away but in spite of his obvious embarrassment he asks again, “can I see them?”

“I… it’s- they’re not… visually appealing…” he says, trying to swallow the dryness in his throat, “I don’t think you’ll be able to see them anyway…”

“So?” Dean asks, pleading green eyes begging Cas to fulfil his request.

Cas’s heart beat heavier and faster in his chest, his stomach turned a little making him feel slightly nauseated but he stood before he could talk himself out of it, because how could he deny Dean anything?

“Fine, but not here. I need more space…” and leads the way out of his room and down the hallway towards the garage.

“More space…?” He hears Dean mumble behind him.

Sam and Jack were no longer in the common areas, and for that he was thankful. Between Jack’s sympathetic need to help, and Sam’s guilt filled eyes, he’d rather not have to face either of them.

Cas opens the door to the garage and lets Dean in first. As he closes the door after him as Dean turns the lights on, but Cas immediately turns them back off, plunging the room into complete darkness, “dude?”

“No lights,” Cas says walking passed Dean towards the impala.

“Then how will you even se-”

Dean stops abruptly as Cas turns the headlights of the impala on, plunging the room into a soft yellow glow. He turns around to face him, still standing at the door.

Dean, after a moment of adjustment, makes his way over with a confused frown on his face, “oh, yeah, sure, we can’t use the free electricity, but yeah, let’s drain baby’s battery,” he mumbles under his breath, but Cas can hear it regardless of his volume.

“Humans cannot perceive an angels true form, as you already know, but you can see the shadows…” he starts, shrugging off his trench coat, folding it neatly and places it on the hood of the car.

“Shadows?” Dean asks, arms crossed while he watches Cas. He shrugs off his suit jacket and ignores the fluttering in his stomach as Dean’s eyes track his every move.

“Yes, Dean, you will only be able to see the shadows they create, not how they actually look,” he folds the jacket up neatly too and starts undoing his tie.

“Wait, Cas, hang on,” Dean says now standing in front of him, “are you-? I was asking about your scars…”

Cas freezes, stomach dropping, his fingers still on the knot of his tie, and looks into Dean’s eyes. A wave of embarrassment floods through him and warms his face and chest, definitely reddening.

“You were willing to show me your wings?” He asks incredulously, as if it’s the most sacred thing that Cas could do for him. And it kind of is. Exposing himself this willingly, and openly, is kind of intimate. He has never voluntarily showed anyone or any angel his wings without the intent of intimidating them. He imagines this is how humans would feel when they are perceived completely naked for the first time, excited but terrified all at once.

“I-” he tries to speak but his voice cracks, stopping him. How could he not have understood what Dean was asking of him? Does Dean even realise how profound it is for him to show him his wings? Would he even appreciate the weight of such an act?

“Cas,” he says breathlessly and my goodness does Cas love the way his name sounds that way, “Isn’t this… a big deal?”

Cas swallows the lump in his throat and continues undoing his tie, more so as something for his hands to do instead of standing still and awkward, “…yeah.” He says pulling the fabric from around his neck and rolls it up in his hands.

“You… are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to do this…” Dean says taking the tie out of his hands and leaning into his line of sight to catch his eyes.

Cas takes a breath and looks Dean up and down, “I trust you,” he says slowly and takes the folded tie back from Dean and places it with his other clothes, beginning to undo the buttons to his shirt.

He untucks the fabric from his pants to reach the last button and shrugs himself out of the sleeves, catching the way Dean averts his gaze when he notices Cas looking at him.

A slight flush fills Dean’s cheeks as he awkwardly runs his fingers through his hair and down to the back of his neck, “well… what do you need?”

Cas grabs him by the elbow and pulls Dean along to the front of the car, standing back to the hood between the headlights, “your patience.” Is all he says as he turns to walk towards the empty wall a few meters in front of the car, but Dean grabs a hold of his arm before he could walk away.

“Jesus, Cas,” is all he says and Cas can’t help but tense, knowing he’s looking at the pair of pink parallel scars that run down from just below his shoulder to half way down his back. From what Cas could see by looking in the bathroom mirror, they’re thick and viscous, and were nearly impossible to heal due to the angelicness of the wound.

Dean drops his grip on him and Cas takes it as his cue to continue on, so he does, ignoring the heat in his face and tingling where Dean held him.

He stands about a meter in front of the wall, just enough space for the shadows to appear higher than his body so Dean could actually see them, and kneels to the ground. He sits on his feet and place his hands on his thighs and hangs his head low, he doesn’t want to see the look on Dean’s face when he realises just how broken he really is.

So he closes his eyes and relaxes his upper body and summons his grace. He takes a moment to prepare himself before imagining his wings unfolding and extending wide, like a big stretch first thing in the morning.

His left wing opens easily, smoothly and wide. His right, however, cracks a little like the popping of the knuckles in his fingers, and pinches at the joint before expanding out. Cas only winces slightly as a shock of pain runs down the bone and into his shoulder blade as he stretches it out for the first time in months. A wave of instant relief washes over him as he lengthens them both wide and high and displays them for Dean.

A gasp in front of him has him squeezing his eyes shut and his stomach stirring. He knows they’re not pretty to look at. His right has no feathers left, just soft fur like skin covering the bone. It’s bent in the middle where the bone was forcefully snapped, and a couple of inches shorter at the end where Metatron’s followers had begun to amputate it. His left one, however, has a couple of feathers that have slowly begun to grow back along the tip of his wing, some long, some very short and some of them fluffy. Most of them fall out after a few weeks of growth, keeping their length short. Some have fallen out now as he’s opened them up, the floor to his left littered with white gold specs of a fur like substance, almost like dust, in the reflection of the lights.

The burning returns behind his eyelids and his heart stutters in his chest. Time feels like it moves far too slow as Cas kneels on the ground before Dean, as bare as an angel can be before a human. He keeps his head low and his eyes clenched until Dean whispers, “Castiel,” into the thickness of the air between them.

He can’t help but look up at Dean through his tear filled eyes at the echo of his full name on Dean’s lips. A name he hasn’t heard Dean call him since the angels fell. A name that, he’s been called for centuries, all of a sudden sounds foreign to his own ears.

But Dean’s eyes don’t meet his, they dart from his left to his right, taking in what little of his true from he can see. Wide, and curious, and beautiful green eyes sparkling in the refraction of light coming from Castiel’s grace.

He bows his head again and mutters low on his breath, “I did say they are not pleasing to observe.”

“No,” Dean says earnestly. Cas doesn’t lift his head when he hears Dean’s boots on the floor treading closer his way. Not even as Dean kneels on the floor in front of him. But two hands cup his cheeks ever so gently, as if he were made of glass, and slowly lifts his head up to meet his gaze. This close, Cas can see the blue of his own eyes shining back at him through Dean’s, bright and blue and…

“No, they’re beautiful,” Dean declares breathlessly.

Cas’s mouth opens slightly in astonishment as his eyes well up and his vision blurs softly.

“You’re beautiful,” Dean whispers as the tears fall silently from Cas’s eyes, down his cheeks, and into the palm of Dean Winchester’s hands, “thank you,” he adds and the admiration in Dean’s voice makes it harder for Cas to keep himself together, as a soft sob escapes his lips.

Dean wipes away his eyes with the pads of his thumb before pulling his hands away to rest on his own thighs and Cas looses his breath at the sight of the righteous man on his knees before him; open, and authentic, and nothing but the purest of intentions.

“Dean…” Cas starts but doesn’t know what to say, or how to express his gratitude.

Dean shakes his head, “no, Cas. You don’t have to say anything,” he says in a low hushed tone, his eyes flicking back up to the broken one.

“…Does it… hurt?” He asks timidly.

Cas nods slowly, “A little…”

Dean nods at that and squints at the shadow, brows deepening ever so slightly.

“What is it?” Cas asks tilting his head to the side, trying to get a better read on him.

“No-nothing. I- I can kinda see ‘em,” he stutters still squinting.

Cas squirms a little under the scrutiny, “how do you mean…?”

“There’s a…” he pauses, perhaps trying to find the right words, “A-a shimmer? I guess? Kinda like.. looking through water…” he says pinching his eyes as if focusing too hard put strain on them.

Cas couldn’t help but smile tenderly at the man before him. Very rare is it that a human can see an angels true form. Even a slight peak at such a being will burn the eyes right out of their socket, melting the surrounding tissue and vessels. He’s not sure whether it has to do with Dean being the chosen vessel himself, or their profound bond, but a part of him isn’t even surprised at all that Dean can see that much. He wonders if maybe he could perceive more…

“Try and touch them?” Cas suggests quietly.

Dean gapes at him, “what?”

Cas blushes and adverts his gaze down to his hands, “I don’t know if you can… but you may try.”

He chances a look back up to Dean’s face, staring mesmerised back at him, “You sure?”

Cas can only nod his encouragement. He watches Dean process his request, the way he licks his lips before gulping and taking a deep breath as he glances up at Cas’ unharmed wing. And then ever so slowly, almost like if he moved too fast he would scare Cas away, he reaches his hand up. Cas doesn’t think anything would happen, maybe a slight ripple in the current, or a slight rush of wind as he passes through the ‘shimmer’ but when Dean’s fingertips graze the surface of delicate skin, Cas gasps. Dean’s pulls his hand back suddenly and almost like an electric shock running through his body, Cas squints his eyes closed as the most intense wave of pleasure coursed a through him. He clenches his fist and squeezes his eyes shut, and steadies his breathing.

“Cas!” Dean calls out but to Cas it sounds distant and muffled. Dean calls for him again and Cas snaps his eyes open, Dean’s hand on his shoulder, the other on his knee. He hadn’t noticed he had put his hands on him, and now his face is mere inches from his, “hey, what the hell, man?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs shaky and a little panicked, “I didn’t think anything would happen,” he admits sheepishly.

“Are you okay?” Dean pulls himself back but his eyes don’t leave his face, worried for what might happen if he looks away.

“I’m fine. Are you alright?” Cas gives Dean a once over. He appears to be fine…

“Yeah, no, I’m good, I thought I hurt you…” he admits and Cas sighs in relief, glad no harm came to Dean.

“No, no it didn’t hurt…” he says, confused, remembering what he felt… “it was…” electric? Chilling? “…overwhelming…” he settles on.

Dean nods, still not entirely convinced.

“I would like for you to try again.”

“Oh- n-no, no way,” Dean says moving to stand, but Cas reaches out, his hand grabbing his thigh stopping him in his tracks, “Please,” but the sudden movement causes Cas’s wings to flow with the movement making him wince and grunt in pain, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, at the ache running down the right side of his body.

“Cas-”

“I’m okay. I just moved to quick,” he says slowly pulling back, Dean still watching his every move.

“Cas I- I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wont,” he says assuredly sitting back up straight.

Dean still looks unconvinced though, his brows frowned in a deep, worried, line, jaw clenched, eyes wide and watching, “stop me if I do.” It’s not a question, but a demand. He’s telling him to stop him, knowing that if he asks, Cas would probably let him go on even if it hurts. So Cas nods his agreement and braces himself, trying to keep his body relaxed, expecting the sensations this time to come.

He keeps his eyes opened this time as Dean’s hand reaches out, trembling ever so slightly, and pauses right before he makes contact. They lock eyes and Cas can see the anxiety, plain as day, in Dean’s. He gives him the smallest upturn of his lips, encouraging him as gently as he can to continue. He hears Dean suck in a breath before ever so slowly reaching forward again until his fingertips, in a feather like touch, graze Cas’s skin ever so lightly. A feeling, almost like a tickle, dances on the skin where his fingers sit before it bolts like a shiver down his spine, soft but intense, new, and unfamiliar.

Cas shudders at the feeling, as Dean applies more pressure, still soft, still gentle, and strokes up just a little. Cas can feel the feathers pull and turn under Dean’s fingertips and it sends an almost feverish feeling down his wing and into his chest. Cas can’t help but gasp at the same time Dean exhales a, “woah.” His eyes begin to prick in the corners, and his breathing picks up pace as his grace begins to quiver, a slight tremor forming throughout his body. He squeezes his eyes shut as to not blind Dean by the bright white light glowing from within them, as a faint running softly echoes throughout the garage.

Dean pulls his hand back nervously, “hey,” he says softly, “what’s happening?”

“Sorry,” Cas whispers, tensing, trying to regain control over his grace before his reaction accelerates further gaining the attention of the other occupants of the bunker. His fists clench hard against his thighs, the muscles in his arms so tense they feel like they’re burning. He tries to focus on breathing but his body feels heavy, almost like he’s being crushed. The air feels thick, as if he’s underwater, though he can feel his body shaking, struggling to contain him. He mutters a few words of Enochian low to himself repeatedly in an attempt ground himself, but it’s not until Dean’s hands, one on his right shoulder, another on his left thigh just above his knee squeeze him gently that he can feel his body calming down, relaxing once again.

“Sorry,” Cas whispers again, his face warm and wet. He wipes at his cheek and looks at his hand, expecting a crimson streak of blood, but it’s just water, tears. He hadn’t even noticed he was crying… again. He had never done such a thing in front of Dean, or ever really, and now he’s up to number three for the day alone.

“What just happened?” Dean asks pulling back and giving Cas back his space.

Cas wipes his face dry and folds his wings back away, cringing again as his broken one collapses weakly into itself and tucks away. His timing couldn’t be more perfect, as the door to the garage swings open, and in storms Sam with an Angel Blade gripped firmly in his hand and Jack standing ready behind him, “what the hell was that?” He demands walking further into the garage, looking around. Cas’ stomach sinks with anxiety, and nervous disappointed that he had created enough of a disturbance to concern Sam and Jack.

Dean stands up then, leaving Cas still kneeling on the ground. He takes the opportunity to lean into his shadow, blocking the headlights from his view.

“Um… what’re you guys doing?” Jack asks curiously taking in the sight of a half naked kneeling Cas in front of Dean.

“Nothing,” Dean says in his usual gruff macho tone that implied ‘none of your damn business’ as he steps to the side to block the boy’s view of Cas.

Sam raises his eyebrows at the sight of them, and what a sight that must be. It doesn’t help that Cas is flushed and a little out of breath either…

“Are we interrupting sex?” Jack asks amusedly, and honestly, Cas can’t even blame him for coming to the conclusion. That doesn’t stop him from leaning from behind Dean’s stance to frown at the kid, squinting his eyes slightly as if to say, ‘why would you even ask such a thing.’

Sam scoffs as Dean chokes and sputters for a response other than a defensive, “No.”

“Then what are you doing?” Sam asks chuckling amusedly, the same smirk still plastered on his face as he watches Dean squirm under his gaze.

Dean stammers for a response, clearly uncomfortable sharing with Sam what they were actually doing. Cas takes the opportunity to slowly stand from his position on the floor, brushing off the dust and dirt from his hands onto his pants. He waves his hands over his knees and within a matter of seconds, his pants are clean again.

“An exercise in trust,” Cas says walking to meet Dean at the hood of the car, reaching around behind him for his shirt.

“And the sounds just now?” Sam asks, body language becoming defensive.

“Me,” is all Cas offers up, shrugging his shirt back on and begins buttoning it. It’s mundane tasks such as this when he’d rather participate in the experience of doing it himself rather than using his powers.

Sam scoffs at his response, looking away from him, towards Jack, and shakes his head, “fine. Yeah. Okay. Good. Well just… we’ll leave you to it…”

Cas only feels slightly bad as Sam gestures for Jack to follow him, exiting the garage.

Jack looks between Cas and Dean, and smiles cheekily before waving them goodbye and following Sam out of the room.

Dean sighs in relief beside him and turns to face Cas, running a hand through his hair, “jeez, did you have to be so short with him?” He walks over to the door, leaving Cas still buttoning his top, and flicks the overhead lights on.

“Would you rather I have told him what we were doing?” Cas asks, tucking in his shirt to his pants when Dean rejoins him and turns the Impala’s lights off. He did not answer him, though Cas knew that he wouldn’t when he asked it.

Instead he deflects, “can’t you just mojo yourself back into those,” he asks handing Cas his tie.

“Thank you. I prefer the manual labour,” he wraps the tie around his neck, only a little confused on which way it’s supposed to face before the knot is tied, deciding that he doesn’t really care which way it faces, before tucking one side over the other and looping it through.

Dean huffs, and Cas knows he’s watching him mess up the knot. Suddenly aware of the eyes on him, he looses his focus and decides to undo it and mojo it on later.

“Dude, give it here,” he offers and gently swats Cas’ hands out of the way. Cas looks down at Dean’s hands, watching as he carefully measures the length of the fabric, pulling the thicker side down much further than Cas had it before crisscrossing them.

He lifts his head, looking up at Dean then, giving him a little more room at the collar to work with. This close, he could see everything so clearly, so perfectly. How long and fine his eyelashes are, how they perfectly dust the tops of his cheekbones as he focuses on the task at hand. He could see all the different shades of green that made up the iris of Dean’s beautiful eyes. All of the individual hairs that built the perfect stubble across Dean’s jaw. The slight dryness of Dean’s lips and all the fine lines and wrinkles in them. He could practically count all the freckles that glitter Dean’s face. Of course he’s familiar with every single one of them, but it’s still beautiful to be able to carefully examine them this closely. Beautiful. Dean had called him that earlier. And it had made his heart yearn for more, more of Dean, more of their connection, just… more.

Dean clears his throat then and a light flush of pink begins to spread across his cheeks and nose, as he taps Cas’ chest, signifying that he was done. Cas blinks out of his little daze and lookes down at the perfectly tied knot, “thank you.”

Dean smiles a little awkwardly and chuckles nervously taking a couple of steps back to lean against the side of his car.

Cas finishes dressing himself, shrugging on his jacket, followed by his coat and tucking his hands in his pockets and joins Dean, leaning against the frame next to him.

“So uh….” Dean starts, and chuckles nervously, cutting himself off.

Castiel remains silent next to him, allowing him the space to find the words on his own.

“How… what was it like?”

Cas glances at Dean beside him, face flushed, arms folded, one leg crossed over the other. He doesn’t look at him, just stares down at the floor in front of them.

Cas smiles to himself and looks ahead, admiring the vintage cars in front of them, “good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cas sighs. He could practically feel the relief rolling off of Dean.

“So the…” he trails off waving one of his hands in front of him. Cas frowns at his hand, not really sure what he’s asking him but patiently waits for him to continue.

“The shaking… and the ringing…?”

“Yes,” Cas says and nods, looking at the ground in front of him. He feels his face and chest warm as the feelings rush back through him momentarily.

“No one has ever touched them before. It was quite sensitive… overstimulating, if you will.”

“So not painful?”

“No, not at all. Just… overwhelming.”

“Good… that’s… that’s good.”

“It was.”

Silence falls between them, but neither of them move. From the corner of his eye, he watches as Dean looks around the garage, his eyes darting from one object to another, yet he makes no effort to move.

“Would you like some time alone?” He asks, not sure if he’s made Dean uncomfortable or not… He’s gotten pretty well at reading a situation but sometimes, in moments like these, he’s not sure what the appropriate social protocol is.

“No!” He says quickly followed by a nervous laugh, “ah… no. But I think I need to get out for a bit…” he admits pushing himself off the car.

“Come for a drive?” He says patting the roof of his car, leaving his arm resting along the frame, “she needs fuel, and we need snacks.”

Cas nods as Dean opens the door and folds himself in.

Cas takes a breath before pushing himself off and joining him in the vehicle as Dean turns the key and she rumbles to life.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and types away at it whilst the garage opens. Once she’s finished, his shoves his phone back in his pocket and explains, “let Sam know, just in case,” and they make their way through the tunnel, down a few side streets and onto the open road.

With the windows down, whatever tape in the deck turned down low, and the comfortable silence between them, Cas doesn’t feel so trapped. The wind in his face and through his hair feels rather nice, refreshing even, cool against his flushed skin.

Dean beside him looks much more relaxed too, although, he usually always did when they were on the road. His fingers tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the door, half out the window. He looks at peace almost. And he drives like this the short distance to the fuel station.

Cas gets out of the car with Dean and leans against the side while Dean fills it, “I’m thinking jerky, popcorn, and pork rinds. What do you want?” Cas thinks about it for a moment… as a human he enjoyed the tastes of sweet foods, not the greesy stuff or salty stuff Dean liked. But now that he’s himself again, food doesn’t really taste the same… nor does it elicit the same emotional enjoyment… As a human he could ignore the individual molecules, but now it’s hard to get past it. However, their last movie night, the sweet popcorn Dean made him try was rather delicious.

“What was the popped corn we had when we watched the movie with the robots?”

Dean rolls his eyes at him and groans as he hangs the pup back up, “transformers, dude! And it was kettle korn, the caramel flavour I think. Is that what you want?”

“Please.”

They walk in together, Dean stuffing his arms with different flavoured jerkies and popcorn and chips. He makes Cas grab two soft drinks from the fridge and a no sugar flavoured water for Sam and at the counter he grabs a container of plum pie and a salad bowl.

Their items are handed back to them in one big bulging bag that thankfully doesn’t bust as they walk back to the car.

“Wait Cas, before we leave,” Dean stops him just before they part ways to get into the car.

Cas turns to him, curious, but a little worried seeing the frown on his face.

He digs through his pocket and dangles the keys between them, “I want you to drive.”

Cas’ mouth and stomach drops a little in surprise, his heart thumping away heavily in his chest. Dean barely lets Sam drive the impala, and now he’s handing him the keys.

“Dean,” Cas starts but he’s at a loss for words.

“Seriously. You shared something so… so big with me and I want to do the same for you,” his cheeks flush a soft shade of rosey pink at the admission and all Cas can do is stare at him gobsmacked.

“I mean… it’s not really the same thing… but this is all I have,” he says, beginning to backtrack, “and I trust you, too, Cas. I do. So please,” he jingles the keys and Cas reluctantly takes them.

“You don’t have to do this,” is all he says as Dean already walks to the passenger door.

Cas looks down at the silver keychain in his hand and looks back up at Dean who isn’t paying him any attention, or trying not to anyway. He nods to himself and takes his new place in the drivers seat, the weight of what this means to Dean not lost on him. Cas checks his mirrors, only having to adjust the rear view, and turns the key. The car rumbles to life once more, purring under Castiel’s hands. He grips the wheel tight and slowly rolls it out of the station, carful to angle it going down the drive so he doesn’t scrape it before slowly accelerating once on the road.

“You can loosen the death grip,” Dean chuckles from beside him.

Cas becomes aware of how tense he is and wipes his clammy hands, one by one, on his thighs. He adjust his grip and rolls his shoulder slightly, trying to loosen the anxiety in him.

“Sorry…”

“Why are you nervous?”

Cas glances over Dean’s way briefly, their eyes meeting for a slow second before he turns back to the road.

“I am not accustomed to driving and this is your prized possession,” he replies as if it answers all of Dean’s questions.

Dean chuckles softly again.

They pull at a red light and Cas is glad for the break. His hands had started to become sweaty and tight around the wheel again. He wipes them on his pants and returns them as the light flicks to green. As he takes off, a vehicle flies past in front of him, running the red. Cas gasps and slams on the breaks, Dean barely having enough time to brace himself against the dash as Cas narrowly stops in time before they are hit. Cas can’t move. There’s a vehicle behind him, honking, but Cas is struck still, his breathing heavy and hard in his lungs, body rigid.

“Cas, you gotta go buddy,” Dean says to him, but it’s muffled and distant. The car eventually drives around them, honking as they continue, but Cas still can’t move.

Dean gets out and walks around to his side, “shuffle over,” he says but Cas can’t move his hands from the wheel.

Dean reaches in front of him and puts it in park and nudges his shoulder, “move over,” he says again. He gently takes Cas’s hands off of the wheel which snaps Cas back into the moment. He clenches his fists a few times to loosen them up and slides into the passenger seat, his whole body hot and sweaty, uncomfortably so.

Dean drives them out of the intersection and pulls over after they’ve cleared it. He parks the car again and turns to Cas, one hand on his shoulder, the other still on the wheel, “we’re okay.”

Cas nods into his lap as the embarrassed tears well in his eyes.

“You’re okay,” he voices again.

Cas nods into his lap again as a hand gingerly cups his cheek, gently moving his head so he can look at him.

“You are okay.”

Cas takes in a deep breath then and blinks away the tears. He refuses to cry in front of Dean Winchester one more time today.

“You did everything right. I’m not mad. You saved us from a wreck. Okay?”

‘His first near miss,’ he thinks as he huffs out a breath.

“Okay?” Dean presses once more.

“Okay,” Cas whispers back.

“Do you want to keep driving?”

Cas immediately shakes his head, “no. No thank you.”

“That’s okay… but when you feel confident again, we can try again.”

“No thank you,” Cas says turning away to face the passenger window.

Dean squeezes Cas’s shoulder before he turns back in his own seat and pulls them back onto the road, “yes. I have rebuilt this thing from the ground up more times than I can count. That back there, not your fault. And even if that dick did hit us, yes I would be pissed, but not at you. And I would have fixed it, okay. There’s been nothing wrong with my baby that I haven’t been able to fix, okay. So yes, maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but I want to share this with you, okay.”

Cas looks over at Dean then. The sincerity in his voice tugging on his heart.

“Please don’t let this discourage you,” he adds as they share a brief moment of eye contact. All Cas can do is watch Dean. He can’t speak, at a loss for words once more, so he just watches him. Watches his relaxed form even after their near miss, one hand on the wheel, and the other reaches over, palm down in front of Cas. He looks down at it confused but opens both of his anyway, not really sure what Dean’s looking for. Cas looks back over to him as Dean looks over at their hands quickly and takes Cas’ left hand in his, intertwining their fingers and holding on firmly. Cas does the same and he can’t help the small smile that tugs on his lips, a new heaviness swells in his chest.

They drive the rest of the way home like this, Dean only using one hand to park the car back in the garage, and Cas couldn’t help but be amazed at how easily Dean could reverse park one handed. Dean squeezes Cas’s hand as he turns the car off, but he doesn’t let go just yet.

“You sure you’re alright?”

Cas nods, his heart still beating erratically at their intertwined hold, although the feeling is nothing compared to what Dean does next. He squeezes Cas’s hand once more and lifts his hand to his lips. Cas gasps softly as Dean closes his eyes and places a gentle kiss on the back of Cas’s hand.

Dean chuckles nervously as he releases Cas’s hand, “I bet Sam’s waiting on us,” he says low and hushed, neither of them making an effort to move, Cas not wanting their time alone to come to an end. He did forget that it was Sam’s turn to pick what movie they were watching tonight. He never did find his choices interesting, but it would be worth it to spend the evening next to Dean.

They share one last sweet smile before Dean sighs, “come on,” and they join the boys who were already sat in the Dean cave, just about to start the movie without them. Jack on a beanbag to the left of the TV, Sam in the arm chair next to him, leaving Dean to sit in the other arm chair, and Cas takes residence with a pillow to sit on in front of Dean and between his legs. Sometime through the movie, Cas leans his head back against the seat, Dean’s hands running through his hair. He shuts his eyes, and focuses on the sensations, his breathing becoming even, and all thoughts pushed to the back of his brain. And though he may not technically be asleep, it’s as close to it as an angel could get, blessed to be at the hands of Dean Winchester.

#this was much longer than I anticipated #I just couldn’t stop #no one stopped me #they want to kiss so bad #supernatural #spn #spn fanfic #destiel #cas dean #dean x castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #jack #one shot

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gilmore-angel · 1 year ago

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everything has changed | aaron hotchner x reader

swiftmas ♱ heyyy.... so this is super late😬. I am now on break so hopefully the future ones will be on time💋

summary ♱ working at a daycare has its perks, a big one being a certain single dad.

warnings ♱ awkward flirting, my lack of understanding how daycares are run, ooc aaron probably cause I haven't watched this show in forever

swiftmas ♱ navigation ♱ follow my library account @baysfics to see when I post!

loud. if you had to use one word to describe your job it would be loud. you of course loved your work, but being completely overwhelmed has become a normal thing.

the end of the day was always the hardest. trying to gather all of the kids items, putting shoes on, getting through checkout, and cleaning up afterwards.

one little boy in particular however made your job a bit easier. Jack Hotchner, an adorable three year old, was polite, well behaved, and sweet. his father, aaron hotchner, was serious but seemed nice.

all you new about him was he worked a lot, and rarely was the one to pick jack up. 90% of the time it was his aunt to come pick him up.

but today was different. when your coworker said jacks parent was here for pickup you help his little winter coat on and backpack and walked with him to the front desk for checkout.

there stood arron, dressed in his usual black suit. his jet black hair was shiny and put together like always. his blank almost cold expression shifted to a much happier one when he saw jack running towards him.

the little boy hugged his father's legs in greeting, receiving a hug in return. you smile as you walk up to aaron and pass him the drawing jack made in class today.

"jack wanted to make sure u gave this to you," aaron smiles softly and takes it, looking over the two little stick figures playing in the snow, representing them.

he glances back up at you, nodding once at you, "thank you. youre jacks main teacher, correct?"

his voice sounding so clear is surprising to you. the most you heard from him was a quiet goodmorning or bye. you would see him mutter words to jack, but they were only for jack to here. the fact he talked to you at all was completely out of the norm.

you feel your cheeks heat up, suddenly realizing now that you have to speak directly to him how handsome he really is.

you smile softly and nod, "yes, I am." you realize too late how awkward you sound.

he nods, reaching out his hand to shake yours, "jack talks about you a lot. you seem to be his favorite here."

your heart swells at that, knowing jack was your favorite too. your heart also skips a beat at the feeling of shaking his hand. his skin is rough, yet his touch is gentle.

"thats so sweet. he brings you up a ton too." your hand drops back to your side and you fiddle with your jeans, suddenly feeling very flustered, a butterfly party happening in your tummy.

he smiles, a bit brighter now. he picks up his son, who is growing more and more tired by the second. he glances away before meeting your eyes again. "I uh, I appreciate all you do for my son. I work a lot out of state so, knowing my son has a good place to go is uh, comforting."

your smile widens, and you chuckle softly, "it my pleasure. he's a great kid."

you both continue to hold eye contact, your breathing calming a bit. he has kind eyes. tired ones, yes, but kind. he finally breaks the little bit of silence by clearing his throat, glancing down.

"well uh, we should be heading out. thank you again." before you can speak again he walks out, son in his arms.

even after he has disappeared from your eye site, you continue to stand and tare at where he was. you almost feel giddy, like a teenager who just met their new crush. you snap out of your daze when you realize you still need to help with checkout. you quickly get back to it, but can't help but thinking that everything has changed.

#swiftmas (fayes version)#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #bay writes🌻

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bababerries · 2 months ago

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Jack is a lot of things but tbh I don’t really get why people call him a stalker and I do take issue with insinuating he was abusive to Lacie in their relationship (when she was alive that is. His behavior towards her daughters, her best friend/doll and all the things she loved post her demise was extremely awful)

Jack’s behaviour towards Lacie is never normal or healthy and is definitely creepy. But I don’t see how he’s abusive or a stalker. If anything id say one of the issues in their relationship was Jack was too much of a pushover who had such little respect for himself that he never had the will to truly fight for a bond that they both cherished because he just couldn’t see anything beyond. I can’t help but feel like labeling him as abusive in this stage of their relationship a bit cruel towards him and unsympathetic. And I love Lacie to the moon and back but I’ll be honest I do think she was abusive to Jack in this relationship. (I am in no way trying to demonize her for this that’s my babygirl and she’s been through a lot. But I think Jack’s feelings also matter here)

I don't think we talk a lot about how Lacie sexually assaulted Jack (COCSA) in their first interaction with one another. And then later goes onto encourage him to do sex work. And Jack listens.She purposely choose to talk to him as he was someone in a vulnerable position. (Homeless and abused) so that she could play with him. She gives him her earing and tells him to come and find her Do I think Lacie was serious when she was saying this? No. I don't think Lacie genuinely made plans to see Jack again. She was just simply fouling around. This encounter meant very different things for both of them. And for Jack it flipped his whole world on his head. He was shown love for the first time in his life and was encouraged to chase after it by that person so he did. While the efforts he goes to get her is concerning I feel like calling this stalker behavior gives a much different impression and also feels a bit unempathetic to me? And is also just incorrect. Jack spends 7 years trying to find Lacie under the impression that she to wanted this shown physically with the earring. Not 7 years watching her from afar. I think it's also worth noting Jack processed Lacie's love as maternal to an extent. She did things for him a mother should do for a child (give him food, cut his hair, give him life advice and orders, protect him from bad guys, hugs) I don't wanna go super in depth bc i'd love to make a whole analysis on Jack's feelings for Lacie but Lacie even makes this comparison herself

(And once again I wanna preface with I don't think Lacie owes Jack motherhood. In fact i'm very uncomfortable with viewing motherhood in a positive lens in regards to Lacie's arc as it felt like it was always something forced upon her to further abuse and mystify her. )

And the second time. Lacie once again is the one to ask Jack to see her again. (This time however out of genuine desire.) She makes the first move and suggest this of him

I think it's fair to say Jack would probably want to try to see her again after this as an alternative response to "What are you going to do now Jack?" But I feel like it's a bit up in the air/up to interpretation. Of course I 100% think he wants to see Lacie. But he to is scared of overstepping boundaries to an extent that damages their relationship. He doesn't answer his question to her saying "I want to see you again" "I'm going to see you again" "Can I see you again" It's "I don't know." Which I think you can also take as now that Jack has completed the only life goal he's made for himself he doesn't know what to do with himself. He could be hiding his want and desires to surprise her and see her but he has no reason to do that here. Levi also giving him the paper in this scene suggests Jack lacks the knowledge to come back on his own. Point is Lacie made the first move here and asked him to come back once again she's the one pushing things.

Lacie has power over Jack. She's the on with power over him because he was vulnerable towards her. I don't mean to demonize Lacie with this post and perhaps I focused too much of her flaws in the relationship but the main point I wanna make is I do feel like people are too hard on Jack in regards to how he acted in their relationship when she was alive. Unfairly antagonizing him when he's the bigger victim in this relationship.

#sorry if this has millions of typos wrote it before going to bed #jack vessalius #lacie baskerville #pandora hearts #mochijun

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tobyislame · 1 year ago

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general eyeless jack headcanons

ik i literally just said this will be an exclusively ticci toby blog but u guys get one (1) ej post as a treat bc i have a biiiiig phat crush on him

- he has a strong distaste for his given name. constantly being referred to as "eyeless" just feels like twisting the knife. so, he really appreciates it when people shorten it to ej. he prefers to just be called jack, though.

- he has black blood. does that subsequently mean his blush would be black?? idk i’m thinking maybe it shows up on his skin as like a dark bluish-purple, kinda like a bruise but… he’s blushing.

- he's got a nice set of large, pointed teeth. when he speaks those chompers are on FULL display, so if he happens to have his mask off, he’ll mumble to try to keep them as concealed as he can.

- what used to be fingernails are now blackened, talon-like claws, which will rip through everything if he isn’t careful. with enough concentration, he can keep them folded down to make them less obtrusive, at least enough to get dressed without making his clothes all… holey.

- that being said… he has no control over his claws when he’s asleep. his sheets are absolutely shredded, pillowcases torn through. they’re also perpetually stained with his eye goop. he's learned to just not bother with patching up his sheets anymore.

- he is LARGE. he is a LARGE MANTHING. he's 8'2 and well aware that he towers over most because people won't shut the fuck up about it. he's also just stocky, with big burly shoulders and enormous hands and man he is just BIG.

- despite his size, he moves quietly and swiftly. he carries himself like he's much smaller than he actually is.

- he isn't really aware of his own strength — he still surprises himself with the damage that he can unintentionally administer. he finds himself having to make a conscious effort to hold back.

- he's completely blind. the way that he “sees” is similar to snakes — utilizing infrared sensors which lie somewhere in those eye sockets of his (eldritch being rules it doesn’t have to make sense), he can sense the heat given off by objects in his environment. this becomes especially useful when tracking down potential victims. somewhere along the line, he learned or “evolved” to use echolocation as well, gaining the ability to make the same sonar clicks that bats do to make their way through the world. these can’t be heard by human ears, but if you’re close enough, they can be felt in your teeth.

- also similar to snakes, he’s cold-blooded. just absolutely cold to the touch. he wears warm clothes all year round, even in summer. he should be sweltering in multiple layers in the middle of june, but really, he’s just fine.

- his senses have all evolved to compensate for his lack of sight. most sensitive of all, though, are his ears. he can identify individual footsteps from miles away. this makes it near impossible to get away with muttering something under your breath. even from across the entire house, he’d be able to hear what you said. (i am aware actual blind people don't have superhuman abilities i just think this is the way it'd present in an enigmatic being)

- his skin is thick, sort of like a rhino's. bullets essentially ricochet off of him, blades snap... this, however, doesn't make him invincible. high frequencies are a surefire way of disabling him.

- he feels hunger much more intensely than any normal person does. when he goes too long without eating he'll become rabid, driven by instinct alone. at that point, he isn’t himself anymore. his body isn’t his.

- in this condition, he'll take on more bestial qualities, sprouting (larger) claws, a second row of teeth, additional tongues... he also exhibits heightened strength, speed, and agility. he'll behave more like an animal than anything else, tunnel vision pointing to only one thing: eat. he does everything in his power to keep this at bay, because in the past… incidents have occurred. let’s just say you wouldn’t want to be caught in the same forest with that thing prowling around. he hates to hurt others when he doesn’t mean/need to, especially since all he can do in those moments is helplessly watch behind the eyes of something that isn’t him.

- he really isn't a killer. although he's lacking in the sympathy department, he has the ability to put himself in the shoes of others and feel what they feel, which is his biggest weakness — as you can probably imagine, being an empath isn't so convenient when you have to kill to survive. often, he feels the pain of those who have the misfortune of ending up beneath his scalpel. beneath his hands. he’s aware that he’s taking that person away from someone, and it hurts him. he just powers through.

- he couldn't eat human food even if he wanted to, and believe me, he wants to. it's just that, if he even makes an attempt, his body flat-out rejects and regurgitates it. think that one tokyo ghoul scene... basically like that. he seems to be able to ingest coffee and tea just fine, though. earl grey is his favorite. on rainy days, his favorite thing to do is brew a cup and sit on the steps to the front porch, listening to the drops plinking off puddles.

- he doesn't particularly like for anybody to see his face. would rather keep it to himself. he's not exactly sure what he looks like, but he can take an educated guess that it isn't pretty. he'll usually just keep his mask on when he's around others, only taking it off if it ever happens to be absolutely necessary. if someone were to take his mask from him, that’d probably be the closest he could get to his rabid state without fully submitting to it.

- when he’s angry (which seldom happens) the tar in his eyes seems to boil and pop, kind of like hot oil in a pan. if it happened to get on you, it’d fucking burn and begin to dissolve right through your skin in the same way acid would. stay out of the splash zone ig.

- he can cry, but the way it presents is similar to ghibli tears — thick, messy glops of black that stain his skin, clothes, and whatever else they happen to spill onto.

- he doesn't just eat kidneys, he tries to make use of the entire body. it’s the least he can do. he doesn’t want to just throw the rest out like it’s trash. even when they’re dead, dissected, splayed out, closer to meat than human, he tries to respect his victims. they were people once, too. just like him.

- he also tries to make harvesting from his victims as easy of a process as possible, for the both of them. he injects them with anesthesia, enough to kill, then uses surgical tools to make the job as quick and clean as possible. no screams. no thrashing. easy.

- he can't remember much of his past life. most of what he can recall are just bits and pieces of out-of-place memories, puzzle pieces that don’t quite fit together no matter how hard he tries to make them. however, the one thing he was able to definitively grasp was his affinity for physiology, human anatomy, and surgery. because of this, he held onto it fucking tightly and devoted himself to it — just so he wouldn’t forget it, too.

- before, he was going to college to become a general surgeon. in fact, he was just about to move on to med school. now he's essentially the mansion's resident surgeon/doctor, and he does his job quite well given that he doesn’t have the resources most other medical professionals have at their disposal.

- he's especially interested in the medicinal qualities of plants. often, he'll go on nature walks in search of herbs that he can put to good use. he uses what he finds to make ointments and medicines and such, often utilizing his own resources in his procedures. in his room is a little garden of his own in the form of pots hanging from the ceiling, holding plants that he meticulously tends to with GREAT precision and care. he'd never trust anyone else to take care of them for him, not even for a day.

- he cannot stand disorganization, it drives him fucking insane. everything has to have a place, and everything has to stay in its place; it becomes difficult for him to find things, otherwise.

- if he can't rely on his sight, then he figures he can at least rely on his memory — it’s why he marks the position of his furniture and such with tape so that if anyone does happen to move something, they can at least put it back exactly where it was.

- messy people get on his nerves. leaving stuff in random places and on the floor is just incredibly inconvenient for him. he's tripped because of people's misplaced laundry and stuff.

- he's a man of few words and lacking in expression. often, a tilt of the head is the most he will react with. when he does speak, his voice is deep, so deep that it seems to vibrate. he keeps his voice soft and quiet, though, as if he's afraid of being too loud. and he is.

- since he doesn't speak much, he empties his thoughts into a journal. he'll write about anything: how his day was, what he did, how he feels, what all had happened in his surgery that day, the things he'd observed... although, if you look through it, ramshackle scraggles that almost resemble words litter the pages. he thinks he's writing words, and will continue to do so until it gets pointed out to him.

- a gentle giant. he's incredibly composed and docile, qualities that betray his physical attributes. he isn't "friendly", per se, but he tries to stay far away from hostility when it isn't needed.

- he has an overbearing need for control. he hates the thought that fate could rip everything out from underneath him whenever it pleases. it happened to him once before. he won’t let it happen again.

- he displays an... almost catlike vigilance. the slightest noise is enough to make his head snap towards the source. it's incredibly difficult to sneak up on him, especially since he hardly ever allows himself to drop his guard. he doesn’t like to be at the mercy of anyone or anything. a lot of his mental energy is put towards preventing bad things from happening to him.

- he can purr .

#he can purr btw #did i mention he can purr #eyeless jack #eyeless jack headcanons #creepypasta

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sequinsmile-x · 8 months ago

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The Albatross - Part 2

The dizziness she’d been trying to ignore suddenly takes over, her vision turning into a pinpoint before disappearing entirely. She falls, narrowly missing hitting her head on the corner of her desk, and she slips out of consciousness.

Her last thought is of her family, their happy faces staring down at her from the picture on her desk.

A reimagining of Route 66, in which Emily experiences complications from an old injury.

Part 2/2

Part 1

-x-

Hi friends,

Thank you so much for the love on the first part of this - it really means the world to me. <3

As always, please let me know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: Emily Prentiss whump, surgery/injury

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily stares ahead, her eyes fixed on the woman in front of her who she knew was long since dead. She chuckles to herself, shaking her head as she first presses her fingers to her temple before her hands slip to her mouth, briefly covering it as she starts to pace.

“I’m asleep,” she says, shaking her head at herself, “I was in my office…” she stops walking back and forth, slowly coming to a stop as her sentence drifts off, “Am I asleep at my desk?”

“Emily.”

She turns to look at Haley, her head moving so sharply she thinks it should hurt, that the tendons should pull, but it doesn’t. Haley’s smile is soft and kind, and everything Emily remembered her to be, but it tips her over the edge.

“I was in my office. I stood up…” she says, swallowing thickly as her hands drift to her abdomen, a flash of the pain she’d been in rolling through her before it completely disappears, “I…I was in my office. Did I pass out?”

She knows she’s repeating herself, but she can’t get past it, can’t figure out what is happening to her. For a moment, she wonders if she’s dead. If something had happened to her that she can’t remember, a haze hanging over her that she can’t shake off, but then she remembers that she’s died before, that it was nothing like this. There were no kind faces of the people she’d once known, no movie theatre as a backdrop. There had been nothing. Just darkness. The kind of inky blackness you only see when you close your eyes at night, a stark reminder every day when she tried to sleep of what she’d once feared her destiny would be.

It didn’t scare her like it once had. It wasn’t the prelude to almost constant nightmares anymore. They still happened but they were rarer, held off by Aaron’s warm body next to hers, by the weight of his arm over her waist, by the knowledge her sons were nearby.

She thinks of Aaron, of the boys, but any panic she might have felt disappears in a second when Haley places her hand on her arm and squeezes gently. Emily looks down, the warmth of Haley’s skin against hers a surprise, and then she meets the other woman’s eyes.

The eyes she’d passed on to the boy they were both lucky enough to call their son.

“Come with me,” Haley says, tilting her head towards the movie theatre behind them, and Emily nods, letting herself be led towards it, her unanswered questions still on the tip of her tongue.

___

He gets in the ambulance with her.

For a moment, he almost doesn’t, thrown off when the paramedic tells him he can’t have Issac in the ambulance with him, his attention torn between his whimpering son in his arms and his still-unconscious wife on the gurney in front of him. It’s too similar to what he’s been through before, his hands sticky with Haley’s blood as he held Jack close to him, and he freezes. It’s only when JJ places her hand on his shoulder that he gets pulled out of it, her smile soft and reassuring as she takes Issac from him again, settling the baby on her hip and assuring him she would take him back to hers, that she’d ask Will to get Jack from school. He nods as he presses a kiss to Issac’s head, whispering against his dark hair that he loves him, that Mommy does too, and then he climbs into the ambulance.

He holds her hand the entire way, and the lack of her familiar grip, the way she’d always squeeze his hand back almost by habit, makes him ache. The doctor has to tell him that he can’t follow them once they arrive at the hospital, standing strong in the face of Aaron’s glare, the stern look that had almost never failed him. He collapses into a chair in the waiting room he’s directed to, his hands tight in his lap. He stares at his knuckles as his skin stretches over them, stark white broken up by scars from when he’d killed Foyet, when his skin had torn open so he could get vengeance for the woman he loved.

He can’t do that now. He can’t do anything other than sit and wait for someone to tell him what was going on, to tell him why he’d found his wife unconscious and unresponsive on the floor of her office. He plays over the last few days in his head, thinks about her behaviour first thing that morning and berates himself for not saying anything further, his head in his hands as he wishes he could go back and push her into telling him what was wrong.

Time moves like syrup, seconds passing by as if they were minutes, hours, his watch and the clock on the wall mocking him every time he checks them. He finds himself counting the small square tiles on the floor, desperate for something to focus on other than the fact he might be about to lose the love of his life.

“Family of Emily Prentiss?”

He stands up, almost tripping over his feet as he approaches the doctor who had sent him to the waiting room in the first place, “Yes, I’m her husband. What’s going on? Can I see her?”

The doctor puts his hand up to stop any further questions, “We’re preparing your wife for surgery, I have a few questions for you about her medical history if that’s okay?”

Aaron nods and clears his throat as the doctor encourages him to sit back down, “Surgery?”

“We found quite extensive internal bleeding in your wife’s abdomen,” he says, “She has a large scar in the area, do you know what caused it?”

He closes his eyes and covers them with his palms as he rests his elbows on his knees. Familiar anger for Ian Doyle threatens to burn him from the inside out, “She was stabbed a few years ago with a table leg. She almost died."He sees the look of horror pass over the doctor’s face for a second before he can control it, “We work for the FBI.”

The doctor nods, “And according to her notes she had a baby a few months ago?”

“Six months ago,” Aaron confirms, “Our son, Issac, he’s six months old.”

“And she delivered vaginally?”

Aaron nods again, “Yeah. It was a long labour, but she did,” he frowns as he looks at the doctor, “Why? What does that have to do with anything?”

The doctor sighs, his lips pressed together as he carefully chooses his words, “I won’t know more until we’re in surgery, but it’s likely that given the amount of scarring your wife has the strain of labour is what caused the internal bleeding to happen.”

He feels his heart clench in his chest, his ribs sore as he tries to suck in a breath and he chokes on a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, “She’s been…” he swallows thickly, “This has been happening for months?”

The doctor smiles tightly at him, “It’s hard to know when it started, but she will have been in severe discomfort the last few days,” he says as he stands up, resting his hand briefly on Aaron’s shoulder as he smiles sympathetically, “I’ll make sure you’re updated throughout the surgery.”

Aaron nods, “Thank you.”

As soon as he’s alone, his shoulder slump, the weight of what the doctor had told him almost pinning him down.

He goes back to counting the tiles, determined to focus on anything other than the fact it felt nothing short of his fault that his wife was having surgery.

___

She doesn’t remember how they get into the screen, but it’s just her and Haley sitting there, surrounded by empty seats. Emily looks up at the screen in front of her and gasps when she sees Aaron and Jack, both in the matching suits they wore on their wedding day, their smiles wide as she walks towards them down the aisle in Dave’s backyard.

“You looked beautiful.”

Haley’s compliment seems to kickstart something in her brain, she jumps up, the desire to see her family overwhelming, “I need to get home.”

“Emily, you can’t leave yet,” Haley says, placing her hand on her arm and encouraging her back down, “We have time.”

Emily frowns, “Time for what? What is this place-”

“Emily,” Haley says, fiercer this time, her eyebrow raised as she forces her to sit back down, “You are just as stubborn as Aaron. How do you two ever get anything done?”

She huffs out a breath and looks back at the screen, any fleeting irritation she may have felt disappearing as she smiles at the sight of her and Aaron, the way he leans in and presses a soft kiss against her cheek, “We figure it out. Most of the time.”

Haley hums, “I always thought there was something between the two of you,” she says, staring straight ahead as Emily turns to look at her, “I even argued with him about it once before we separated. I was sure he had a crush on you.”

Guilt she doesn’t expect or understand floods Emily’s chest. When she first started dating Aaron, he and Jack still felt like Haley’s. She was careful about her place in their lives, desperate to ensure she never overstepped. As time went on, she became more confident of who she was to them both, and they started to feel like hers. They still kept Haley a part of their lives, made sure pictures of her were spread throughout their home. Emily was already thinking of ways they’d make sure Issac knew about her, so the little boy would know about Jack’s first mom and her bravery.

“I’m sorry.”

Haley shakes her head, “You have nothing to be sorry for,” she turns to look at her, sincerity shining from her eyes, “I think you’re better suited for him than I ever was, you understand him. And his job,” she looks back at the screen and sighs sadly when she looks at Jack, the little boy’s smile wide as he snuggles into Emily’s side on their couch at home, “He’s grown so much.”

Emily isn’t sure what makes her decide to tell Haley about her own son, not when she’s not entirely sure what is happening, what’s making her see and feel Haley in the way that she was, but she does, pride seeping into every word.

“He’s so smart. He loves math, and knows every fact possible about the solar system,” she chuckles, “He loves being a big brother. He helps with Issac all the time.”

Haley smiles, “He calls you mom.”

She freezes, the smile slipping from her face as she nods, “Yeah, he does.”

Haley places her hand over Emily’s and squeezes, “He loves you. If someone else has to be his mom, I am so glad it’s you.”

The sincerity in Haley’s voice takes Emily aback, a surprised chuckle escaping her as she squeezes the other woman’s hand back. She hadn’t realised how much she’d needed to hear it, how much she’d wanted to know Haley would be okay with the place she had taken in Jack’s life. She looks around the movie theatre again, the strangeness of the situation once again sinking in.

“Is this real?”

Haley shrugs, her eyes drifting back to the screen, her smile turning sad as she watches Jack hold his little brother, “It’s as real as you want it to be,” she says, before she turns back to Emily, “You’ll look after them, right?”

Emily nods, her smile soft and fleeting as everything around her gets brighter and Haley fades away, “Always.”

___

She groans when she wakes up. The first thing she feels is Aaron’s hand around hers, and then she feels the pain.

“Em?”

She opens her eyes, her lashes feeling like they are glued together as she blinks, “Aaron?”

The relief he feels is palpable and overwhelming. He sits on the edge of her bed and lifts her hand to his lips, stamping a kiss against her knuckles, “Yeah, it’s me,” he kisses her hand again, “How are you feeling?”

She groans, everything slowly coming back to her. She swallows thickly, her throat sore and dry, and she shakes her head as she tries to clear her vision, “Thirsty.”

He picks up the cup of water on the side table and holds the straw to her mouth. He smiles when she glares at him, her attitude dampened by her inability to lift her arms due to the pain in her abdomen and the paleness of her skin. She sips the water anyway and it soothes her throat despite being room temperature.

“Thanks,” she says, licking her lips to capture the drop of water that lands on them, “What happened?”

“You had internal bleeding,” he says, wrapping his hands around one of hers again.

“Internal bleeding?” She asks, frowning in confusion, “How?”

“Complications from your scar tissue,” he says simply, keeping the rest of it to himself for now, not wanting to overwhelm her until the doctor could explain it all to them both. “You passed out at work, I found you in your office.”

She blows out a slow breath and closes her eyes. She knows how she’d feel if it was the other way around, if she’d found him like that, and she squeezes his hand with what little strength she can find, “I’m sorry.”

“The doctor said you must have been in pain for a while, sweetheart,” he says, reaching up and tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She sighs and rests her head on her pillow, “I thought I was getting my period or something, or that my body was still readjusting after having Issac.”

He shifts closer and rests his forehead against hers. He takes a moment to breathe her in, to feel her breath skipping across his skin, “When you’re better, we’re going to talk about you keeping this kind of thing from me.”

She chuckles lightly and nods, her forehead bumping against his, “Deal,” she says, kissing him gently, the cannula delivering her oxygen tickling his nose, “Where are the boys?”

“With JJ and Will,” he says, “I’ll bring them by tomorrow.”

She nods, pushing away her desperation to see them for the time being, “Can you stay?”

He smiles and kisses her again, “Nothing could make me leave,” he promises her, “Not even the scary nurse outside that would give Strauss a run for her money.”

She laughs and then groans immediately, “Please don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

She hums and looks down at their hands, and she takes a moment to look at their wedding rings. She smiles as she looks back up at him, “I had the weirdest dream.”

___

Emily was furious at her husband.

It wasn’t because he was hovering, or because he was following the doctor’s orders to the letter since she was released from the hospital a week ago, but because he was an idiot.

She was stuck in bed watching TV when Jack snuck into the room, a bowl of ice cream in one hand and a homemade card in the other. He sat next to her as they shared the ice cream, his head on her shoulder as he told her the sweet treat made everything better. She found that she agreed, the combination of the dessert and a cuddle from her eldest going a long way to making her feel better. She only gets a chance to look at the card he’d made her once he’s out of the room, gleefully helping Aaron with dinner, and that’s when she notices the letter accidentally glued to the back of it.

She peels it off, frowning when she realises it’s from the hospital and addressed to Aaron. Her confusion turns into anger, frustration aimed at her husband thrumming under her skin, when she sees it’s for a consultation for a vasectomy.

She doesn’t say anything for hours, letting the anger simmer low in her gut as they eat dinner in bed and spend some time with the boys until Aaron puts them down for the night. When he walks back into the room, a smile on his face, she pulls the letter out of the nightstand she’d hidden it in. She throws it onto his side of the bed and his eyes go wide as he picks it up.

“Where did you get this?” He asks, an edge of irritation in his tone that only makes her more angry.

“Jack made me a card, it was glued to the back of it,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest as she looks at him expectantly, “Well? Were you ever planning on telling me that you are planning on getting a vasectomy, or were you just going to wait until I started talking about having another baby?”

He groans, running his hands through his hair before he places his hands on his hips. He was going to tell her before the appointment, but every time he tried he’d freeze up, the same worry and guilt he’d felt when the doctor had first spoken to him at the hospital climbing up his throat.

“Em-”

“You can’t make this decision for us, Aaron,” she seethes, her teeth clenched as she keeps her voice low, well aware of the two sleeping little boys down the hall, “This is something we should talk about together,” she chuckles wryly, “I want another baby, you know that-”

“And I want you,” he shouts, the fight draining out of him as he watches his word register, her eyes wide as she stares at him. He sighs and closes his eyes, reaching out and placing his hand on her thigh, “I want you, Em. If I lost you…” he chokes on a sob, everything he’d repressed since he found her in her office forcing its way to the surface, “I wouldn’t survive that.”

When the doctor explained that her labour, and the strain it had put on her body, had caused the tearing of her scar tissue, she’d seen her husband’s reaction. She’d seen how he’d curled in on himself. She later found out that he’d already known, that he’d found out that their decision to have a baby, their precious son whom they both loved more than life itself, could have killed her before he knew she’d survive. It had upset her too, her hopes of having another child seemingly dashed until she spoke briefly to her OBGYN who said they’d discuss everything once she’d healed, that there were potential options for her if she decided to get pregnant again.

She’s pulled out of the trance she’d fallen into when she sees a tear slip down his cheek, love for him forcing her body forward, the pain in her abdomen a second thought as she wraps her hand around his and pulls him towards the bed. Any anger she’d been feeling disappears in a heartbeat, overwhelmed and chased away by her love for him, as he pulls her into a hug.

“Aaron, honey,” she says, cupping his head as she pulls back, her arms heavy and tired as she makes him look at her. She wipes a tear away from his cheek, her chest hollowed out and aching when it’s immediately replaced, “We don’t know what’s going to happen. Ever. My job is dangerous, I could get hurt at any time, but I collapsed in my office,” she smiles softly as she wipes another tear from his cheek, “We’ll talk to my doctor, figure out our options and go from there. She might recommend I don’t get pregnant again…” she trails off, swallowing thickly at just the thought of it, preemptive grief for something she wants so desperately filling her lungs, “She might say I need to be induced earlier, monitored more closely or have a c-section,” she shrugs and blows out a slow breath, “But we have those conversations and make those decisions together, okay?”

He rests his forehead against hers, his hand wrapped around a fistful of the t-shirt she was wearing, “Yeah, okay,” he says, pulling back to look at her, his smile shaky, “I’m sorry.”

She nods and wipes one more tear from his cheek before she settles back down, wincing a little as he helps her.

“That’s okay,” she assures him, encouraging him closer, smiling as he settles into her side, “We’ll talk about it some more when I’m better,” she says, turning her head to look at him, “But you’re not the only person in this house prone to trying to make decisions for everyone around them without asking for help.”

He chuckles dryly and rests his cheek on the top of her head, pausing to kiss her hairline before he continues, “Yeah, we really need to make Issac kick that habit.”

She laughs and then immediately winces, her hand flying to her abdomen as she hisses, “I forgot how much recovering from abdominal surgery sucks.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her head again before he pulls away and checks his watch, “You’re due some more meds so I’ll go get them for you.”

She smiles gratefully at him and reaches for his hand, wrapping hers around it before he stands up, “I love you so much, you know that, right?”

He nods and leans in to kiss her, his lips soft against hers, delicate and gentle as if she might break into a million pieces, a part of him still worried she could shatter right in front of him. She knows it will take a while for that to fade, for him to stop looking at her like he might lose her, so she doesn’t complain.

“I know, Em. I love you too,” he assures her, stamping his lips against hers once more before he stands up, “Do you want anything else whilst I’m downstairs?”

She smiles as she acts like she’s thinking about it and he raises his eyebrow at her, letting her know he already knows what she’s going to say.

“Ice cream?” She says, and he laughs, shaking his head lovingly as she scoffs in fake annoyance, “I’ll have you know, ice cream has healing powers. Just ask Jack.”

He chuckles and nods, continuing his journey to the bedroom door, “Who am I to argue with that? Ice cream it is.”

She sighs as he leaves the room and she rests her head back against the headboard. When she closes her eyes, she thinks of Haley and the promise she’d made her and she smiles.

She’d happily spend the rest of her life looking after her Hotchner boys.

-x-

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