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sweetbillwriting · 4 months ago

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In The Dead of Night

ELEVEN

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

“He was in a coma six months ago? For how long?” I asked in shock, but Robin didn't react to it.

“A month, I think? I learned about it after a couple of weeks. His friends didn't know if they should call me and... Heroin. I thought he had stopped with that shit, but one of his weird friends told me he had overdosed on purpose because of depression.”

I looked down at the ground, thinking back on my dreams. Could it be that Eric was in a coma? Believing he was dead? I dragged my hands over my face and shook my head in disbelief. I had started to believe the dreams were just dreams, but now I thought back on it again. The Spotify playlist, the name of his biological mom, the places and drawings he had shown me... Could he in some way visit my dreams while he was in a coma?

“Are you listening?” Asked Robin a little irritated, and I nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. It's just so much… He hasn't told me this.”

“He's probably embarrassed. He has overdosed twice and lived while other people who do something with their lives die of diseases. He gets saved.”

I sat with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, trying to digest everything. I started to get a headache from it all and dragged my hands through my hair, but still I had questions.

“Do you see him as your brother? You cried when you found out he was in a coma, but you talk about him like an invader in your family.”

Robin bent down in a similar way as I and looked down at Odin laying on the ground.

“No. He's just Eric to me. He's my parents foster kid, but he's nothing to me. I get that sounds harsh, but I never understood who he was as a kid, and then in my teens he moved in with us permanently and made everything difficult. But… They also favored him so hard. Dad cut down work hours to be home with him; mom was with him all the time, and they gave him expensive gifts, and we traveled more.”

I looked at Robin’s sad face and how he dragged his feet through the wet leaves on the ground. Maybe it was actually true? Maybe they actually gave Eric all that. I could imagine they wanted to give him all the things he had never gotten to lay a bandage over the abuse and trauma his mom caused him, but it was too much to not get Robin's attention. On top of that, Eric had magical powers? I wanted to laugh at my own thoughts but couldn't do that when Robin sat next to me, but it really seemed like Eric was something more. He talked with animals, was kind to everyone, liked by everyone, and could escape death and visit my dreams. He sounded like a Disney princess.

Robin was quiet just like me for a while, but he wasn't thinking about Snow White; he prepared a confession.

“I never told mom and dad I was gay... It would have given them one more reason to love him more than me. Instead, I was the weird one, never meeting a girl. Did you know he slept with my best friend? And later, two other friends. He was clearly straight and on top of that an asshole. Now he has slept with a fourth friend of mine…”

I looked at Robin up and down uncomfortably. I didn't want to believe Eric had slept with his friends, but I could also see how that could have happened. Eric had been tall, hot, and sexy since his late teens, and on top of that, he had taken drugs then already. I swallowed hard when I thought about how many he probably had slept with.

“I'm sorry, Robin... I don't even know what to say, but… He didn't know we were friends. I've lied to him too…”

Robin shook his head to himself and looked down at his hands playing with Odin's leash, then he sighed.

“I guess I can't decide who you date… But can you promise me you will never force me to like him? And that you're careful? He is an addict, whatever you say.”

I smiled with relief, happy to have his blessing, but it fell when I thought about Eric. He would never forgive me.

“I don't think we need to talk about that even… He will never forgive me…” I took a deep breath to calm myself down because I could feel the tears pushing behind my eyes.

“Ehm, before I talk about him, can we go home? I don't want to sit here and ugly cry in front of everyone.”

Robin nodded quickly and fixed Odin's leash around his hand.

“Of course, of course.”

We went to my home, and with a big cup of tea each, I told him about my love for Eric. How he had pulled me in at once and how I couldn't stop myself from loving him from the first time we met.

“I had these dreams about him when I thought he was dead and… He really was everything I ever wanted from a guy. Nothing like Dante, then I met him, and he was the same, and… He really sees me. He really cares for me, and even if you can't see it, he makes me feel safe.”

I cried so hard, I didn't know if Robin could hear me, but it seemed like it. He looked uncomfortable, even upset, but nodded slowly.

“I… Well, okay, I guess. If you feel like that, I will not say that it isn't true; it's just that I can't see anything else than how manipulative and selfish he is. That's my picture of him, but… Clearly, you see other sides in him…”

I nodded and dried my wet cheeks, but new tears came.

“But it's too late now…”

Robin shook his head.

“In rehab, they talk quite a lot about how to ask for forgiveness and to forgive others. If he learned anything there, he would listen. It's worth a try. You should call him.”

I looked at Robin, who met my eyes. It was big of him saying these things even if he didn't like Eric. Once again, I dried my tears, and then I gave him a hug. At least he was a true friend to me.

I waited until Robin had left to call Eric, and then a bit longer after that. I didn't dare at first. Maybe he was really angry and would curse at me. I wouldn't be able to handle that. I thought about leaving it be, so I could imagine him not being angry and grieve what was of our relationship. However, in the long run it wouldn't give me anything, so I collected myself and called him with shaking hands. I heard signal after signal, and the fourth I thought about hanging up, but just when the fifth started, he answered.

“Hey,” he said shortly.

“Hey.”

“Hey… Ehm… I don't know what to say, Eric, more than I'm so, so sorry for… everything,” I said with a dry throat and was forced to even cough after I had spoke.

“Yeah…” he said with his thinking voice. I knew he was in deep thought just in the way he answered.

“I love you. I love you, so so much,” I said desperately. Eric was quiet, so I continued to talk.

“I just wanted to be with you. From the first time I saw your photo, I was—”

Eric cleared his voice awkwardly. It was probably a bit much hearing me explain my love for his photo.

“Maybe, maybe we can talk for real?” He said it in a dreamlike tone, and for a second I would have believed he had smoked marijuana recently, but I knew he often sounded like that when he tried to master his big feelings and sensitive heart. “I can come to you tomorrow?”

My own heart beated hard. I didn't want anything more than that.

“Of course, of course!” I said excitedly, I couldn't contain my happiness.

“Good… I'm sorry, by the way?”

“What? For What?” I answered with a giggle, like he was joking. I couldn't control the euphoria I felt of just knowing I would be close to him soon.

“For what happened with Nick and all that… I guess drugs are the thing I think about when life sucks. Like when you had those extreme menstrual cramps and you asked for—”

“Stop!” I said with a loud laugh, and Eric laughed too. It was a joke, a joke about that time I had such horrible period cramps that my ass cramped so I had begged him for anal sex like it was the only thing that could save my life.

Fortunately, it subsided by itself before we had time to do it, and then it felt awfully scary.

I could hear Eric's sweet little giggle in my ear, and I sighed with love.

“I really love you the most in the entire world, you know.”

“I love you most in the entire world, too, babe,” he said warmly before we hung up.

×××

“I'm sorry, but it sounds super weird you dreamed about me,” he said after thinking about what I had said for a while. I had told him I dreamed about him, but I didn't dare say I believed it was actually him visiting my dreams. It would be too much and sound a bit like an excuse from a stalker.

“It was! After the first time seeing your photo, I started to dream about you, and you were amazing in the dream, just as amazing as you are now, and yeah, I just wanted to meet you for real. And you were so different from Dante. Even the person you were in my dream was everything I wanted.”

Eric looked at me with big eyes and nodded. He put down his cup on the coffee table, then he moved closer to me smoothly.

“You have said many times that Dante was a really bad guy… What does that mean?” He searched my eyes, but I just looked away. I didn't want to talk about Dante like that.

“You can talk to me… I hope you know that.”

I moved closer to Eric and looked into his kind eyes. I was safe with him.

“He hit me a couple of times.”

I looked at Eric's Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“He hit you?”

“It was just a few times, but I provoked him, so it's just embarrassing to talk about. I don't want people to know how annoying I-”

“Hey!” Said Eric, upset, and it made me jump. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he said softly when he realized he had scared me. “No guy has any right to hit you, even if you're annoying as hell. I don't care what you say about yourself, he is the one in the wrong.” He looked at me seriously but suddenly looked scared. “You know I would never do that, right? I know people say it's a bigger risk for abused kids to become abusive adults, but I would never ever in my life do that. I would kill myself if I ever did that.”

His words were sincere and worried, and his face, cute. I kissed his full lips and dragged my hand over his smooth cheek.

“I know that, Eric. That's why I love you so much. I would never doubt your kindness.” I kissed him again, and it led to us making out a bit. I crawled up in his lap, and he took his chance to pull down my tank top straps so he could play with my chest with his big hands. His lips found a nipple, and once again he sucked so hard it felt like he thought his next dinner was there. I dragged my hands over his head and cradled him against my chest while he found comfort against me.

“My boy… I'm sorry for everything that has happened to you in life…” I whispered and made him look at me, still with my nipple between his lips.

“I'm sorry that your biological mom didn't treat you well and that you met so many others that have hurt you…”

Eric released my nipple and looked away but still lay against my chest.

“I know it's her fault I am the way I am. That I crave... That I need drugs to calm my loud thoughts down, but I'm not mad anymore. She was disturbed. She was sick. The men… They're just faceless idiots to me, so there is no one to be angry with.”

He sounded so mature and calm, and I felt proud and smiled at him a little. It would be a good person like Eric who could see life from that angle.

“But when you are depressed, what is that about?”

He shrugged his shoulders and sat up.

“Depression doesn't always have an explanation. It's just like everything drops for me. Like nothing is important. It just falls to the ground, and I can't see an end. Of course I can have nightmares about the men who kicked me around or the times Linda tied me to the radiator for a day or two.” I gave him an upset look, but he didn't seem to notice. “But it's not those memories that make me depressed. That's just my brain shutting off.”

Eric looked at me and then smiled a little.

“You don't need to look so worried; it was fifteen years ago. And Linda is dead. She died of a failing liver when I was eighteen or something.”

I nodded a little and patted his cheeks. It was hard thinking that a kind soul as Eric had gotten treated like that, and it made both my chest and stomach hurt. I kissed his lips softly a few times, but I noticed quickly that Eric wanted more than that. I giggled when he pulled down my tank top again to touch my chest and when he licked my lips to be able to get permission to dance with my tongue.

Deep tongue kisses made Eric pleasurably groan, and when I moved in his lap, I could clearly feel he was hard. I dragged myself over his sex and could feel his cock grow to its full size in the loose-fit track pants. Eric knew what he wanted but also what I wanted, so he stood up and let me hang around him like a koala bear.

“Am I not heavy?” I said with a giggle. I knew I wasn't for him, but I wanted to hear it.

“Fuck no, you don't weigh a thing.” He said, shaking his head. He probably knew I just wanted to hear that but answered seriously so it would feel even more real for me. I giggled and leaned back while being in his safe arms. I could lean back a long way, and Eric let out a sound of admiration.

“Fuck you're sexy,” he said, and then put me down in bed. His words made me feel my self esteem grow, and I smirked while taking off my clothes while lying in bed. I moved sensually, letting him be my small little audience while I started my masturbation show for him. Eric stood and looked at me with an open mouth and pulled off his big gray t-shirt. I looked at his muscles shamelessly, and even if he was so close, I fantasized about having him even closer. I sat up, drunk of hornyness, and pulled him closer to me with a grip of the elastic to his dark blue pants.

From his navel down to the hem of his pants, I made a small trail of kisses. I licked the lines going down to his groin while teasingly pushing down his pants with his boxers. Eric chuckled a little when I licked closer and closer to his loins and helped me take the last of his clothes when my lips moved closer and closer to the root of his cock. He kicked the pants and boxers away with his socks and then turned around. His idea was to just attack my lips with his, but I stopped him because I wanted to look at him. Eric scratched his ear while I looked at his body up and down.

“Damn boy,” I teased and bit my lip. Eric chuckled, embarrassed but also proudly. He had a hobby you could see clearly how much he worked on, but also, he won a lottery in anatomy.

“Can I fuck you now?” He said and moved closer to me, and I nodded with a giggle. With a smile, he kissed me and moved over me, his body so broad it felt like it swallowed me up. He smelled like one of his expensive perfumes, mixed with herbal tea, and even that smell was intoxicating. With a swift motion, he had pushed me down on my stomach in bed so he could enter me from behind while he held me close to his body. I wonder if I could ever get used to his size or strength. I hoped not because every time he was close, I felt so blessed and protected, and I hoped I would never take that feeling for granted.

×××

Eric fell asleep after our lovemaking; most of the time he had held me up against the wall, and I could see that would even be much for him, but I couldn't deny what a feeling it was to be held like that. I felt small and vulnerable in his arms, full, overwhelmed, and light as air. He had instead held me up by the thighs while also moving in and out of me with fast, hard strokes. No wonder he was tired.

I swept my finger over his nose, following the straight nose bridge out to the upturned tip. He wasn't bothered by it; he just continued to sleep. Warmth rose in my chest while I looked at him, but another feeling started to take over. Hadn't it been very easy for me to be forgiven by him? I had lied and gone behind his back, but he forgave me after just a few minutes, then slept with me in the best way. The last time I saw him, he had also laid in a bed but had asked for drugs. Did that craving just disappear? I thought back to the moment in his bed and what he had said. He had wanted the morphine pills he had seen in the bathroom. Pills I hadn't hidden away before his visit. I stood up from bed and pulled on a floral kimono as I walked to the bathroom on light feet. I know you can guess what I found—nothing. The pills weren't anywhere to be found. I searched over and over in the bathroom, but there weren't any pills. I could feel the panic grow because I didn't want to believe it, but still it was there; Eric had just forgiven me and slept with me to steal my morphine pills.

I stood and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, more or less waiting for the inevitable breakdown. I loved him so much, but he clearly loved other things more than me, even if he had said he loved me most in the entire world. I waited for the breakdown, but it never came; maybe it had just been too much the last few days and there were no tears left.

I walked back to the bedroom, where he still slept with just the cover on his hips. I looked at all the badly made tattoos, the clues to what life he had lived and probably would soon live again. I wondered if he was high on something while we slept together. Maybe it was amphetamine that gave him his stamina. I kicked his shin with my foot over and over. That was the only way I wanted to touch him; otherwise, I wouldn't be able to keep my cool. I kicked quite hard after a while to make him wake up, and after three hard kicks, he looked up at me confused.

“I'm sorry, have I slept a long time?” He said with a raspy voice and rubbed his eyes.

“Did you just sleep with me to be able to take my pills?” I said crass with furrowed brows. He sat up and scratched his chest. He looked adorable with his big eyes shifting, but for me, that was just proof he had taken them; he couldn't even look at me.

“What?”

“My morphine pills; you have taken them!”

“What? No?”

“God, I never thought this about you, Eric!”

“But I haven't-”

“Don't lie to me!”

“But I-”

“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”

Even if he was the one in the wrong, I swallowed hard when he looked at me hurt.

Without a word, he stood up and started to dress. My instinct was to say I was sorry and beg him to stay, but he had used me for drugs, so there was no hope for us.

I stood with crossed arms and shiny eyes while his naked body disappeared into soft fabrics. He walked by me without a look, out to the hallway.

“Can I have the pills?” I tried to sound cold but didn't know if I succeeded very well. The question made him finally look up at me with sad eyes.

“I don't have them.”

I sighed and looked down at the ground disappointedly. It wasn't like him to lie to me right in the face, but I guessed drugs made him into someone else. I looked at him while he pulled on his bomber jacket and turned on his heel to the door. The jackets were the only place he could have them, and for a few seconds I regretted not looking in his pockets but brushed that away; it didn't make any difference. Eric closed the door silently behind him; he would probably never be the kind to be violent in front of a woman. I stared at the door for a long time after he had left with tears in my eyes. I couldn't say why, but it felt like something didn't add up, but I tried to say to myself that it was just me who wanted it to be that way.

I sat down on the couch where our teacups still stood on the coffee table. I breathed heavily, trying to find acceptance, but it seemed like other thoughts knocked on the door and wanted in.

He hadn't even been in the bathroom. He had been by my side all the time.

I thought back to his visit, trying in every way to find a time he could have taken the pills, but there wasn't a time. In panic, I ran to the bathroom, looking again through every cabinet and box after the pills. I threw things out on the floor to see everything better, but they were nowhere to be found. I cried hysterically because I couldn't find an explanation.

“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”

Even if he was the one in the wrong, I swallowed hard when he looked at me hurt.

Without a word, he stood up and started to dress. My instinct was to say I was sorry and beg him to stay, but he had used me for drugs, so there was no hope for us.

I stood with crossed arms and shiny eyes while his naked body disappeared into soft fabrics. He walked by me without a look, out to the hallway.

“Can I have the pills?” I tried to sound cold but didn't know if I succeeded very well. The question made him finally look up at me with sad eyes.

“I don't have them.”

I sat down on the couch where our teacups still stood on the coffee table. I breathed heavily, trying to find acceptance, but it seemed like other thoughts knocked on the door and wanted in.

He hadn't even been in the bathroom. He had been by my side all the time.

“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”

I heard my own words in my head. Had I thrown that in his face, and he hadn't even taken the pills? He must have taken them. Where else were they? I needed to talk to someone, someone that could tell me I had done the right thing. I called Robin with shaking hands, sitting on the toilet lid with legs bobbing up and down in panic.

“My morphine pills were gone, so he must have taken them, but I don't know when he could have done it, but he must have, right? Right? I mean, where are they otherwise? He came here and pretended to be the perfect boyfriend again just to take them!” I rambled with a runny nose.

Robin was quiet on the line. I wasn't prepared for that; I thought he would just say I had done the right thing.

“I have them.”

I didn't understand what he was saying and furrowed my brows in confusion.

“What?”

Robin sighed deeply.

“I'm sorry, I thought I did both of you a favor by taking them away. So he wouldn't be tempted.”

“Huh?” My heart beated hard against my chest.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I had accused Eric of stealing my pills without any proof, and here I now sat with the truth. Eric was really the perfect boyfriend, but I had called him a junkie.

“I didn't want to do a thing out of it because I was afraid you would be angry if I said anything that could be critical to your relationship.”

Robin sounded sincere, but right at that moment I didn't care. I had called Eric a fucking junkie. I thought about his hurt expression but how calm he still continued to be. Always so respectful and sweet, even when hearing such things.

“Oh my god... Oh my god…” I said with a shaking voice and laid a hand over my mouth to cover my sobs.

“I'm really sorry, Della; this wasn't my plan at all!” Said Robin with guilt and stress in his voice. I didn't say anything because I was busy trying to control my tears.

“I would never do such a thing to you. Him, yes, but not you. I can punish him with mom and all that, but I wouldn't-” he interrupted himself, and I could almost hear his panic.

“...how do you punish Eric? What? How do you punish Eric??” I said, upset, and raised my voice. I had a bad feeling—a really bad feeling and ideas about what he had done to Eric spun around in my head.

“Nothing!” Robin sounded mad, but I was quite sure it was a way to mask that he had said way too much.

“Tell me now!”

Robin was quiet on the line. “Is it something about him not seeing Lotti? Huh? Have you kept them from each other?”

Robin sighed like he was irritated, but instead of saying anything, he hung up in my ear.

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard #fan fiction #writing #story #bill skarsgård writing #bill skarsgård fanfiction #fiction #the crow #eric

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super-unpredictable98 · 3 years ago

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June Party | The Umbrella Academy AU

Pairing: Klaus x Vicky (OC - The Eighth Child’ Verse) Word Count: 1,7k Warning: Strong language, alcohol, mention of trauma

(Masterlist)

It was that time of year and that could only mean one thing... June Party! A celebration of three Catholic saints brought to Brazil by the Portuguese when the country was still a colony (very much like they brought diseases to the natives, slaves from Africa, the extinction of redwood, and stole all of our gold, but that's a history lesson for another time).

Usually, over there it's winter and they warm up drinking hot wine and eating corn on the cob, among other delicacies. Here it's the middle of summer, but nothing can ever stop a group of Latinos from throwing a party.

Little Brazil wasn't too far from our appartment, when I heard there would be a June Party happening only ten blocks away, I couldn't help myself! I had to drag Klaus all the way there to eat candy apples, popcorn, paçoca, cocada... Play all sorts of stupid games, and jump over the campfire.

"It's like a farm party!" I clapped.

"You're not doing a very good job of making it appealing to me, Liebling, why don't we just go to that club your art department friends are going to?"

"I swear it's gonna be fun, we can send each other elegant mail..."

"Elegant mail?" Klaus laughed.

"Yeah! It's like anonymous little notes they deliver around the party, we can play all those carnival games, dance, dress up, get high while we watch the lanterns, and drink hot wine with spices."

"You're so lucky I love you..."

After a little convincing, he put on his cowboy boots and flannel to accompany me, normally he's the one who goes all out for parties, but I have to admit I was a little too excited this time. I got myself a white dress with rainbow frills all around the skirt and pink ribbons decorating the corset.

"You look like a... Gay bride," Klaus held my hands, analyzing my outfit. "A gorgeous one, of course."

"Yeah, I am a bride. June Parties have fake weddings with fake priests after the square dancing."

"We're gonna square dance?" his eyes went wide, it had been a few years since our last dance lesson back at the mansion.

"No, don't worry, I'm just trying to look the part," I explained while braiding my hair. I thought about drawing fake freckles like everyone does, but I already have so many... It seemed unnecessary.

"And who you gonna marry?"

"N-no one..."

"You could marry me," he said in his joking tone and I laughed nervously.

"Yeah, I'm sure dad would be proud."

"Who cares what that sadistic bastard thinks?"

And he was right, as always. Ever since we left home, dad never cared to even make a call and check if we were alive. Sometimes I missed mom and Pogo, but I knew they wouldn't actively look for us unless our father asked, which would never happen.

I couldn't stop thinking about that as we walked down the street, I couldn't shake that feeling that Klaus was my only family, he was all I had and I loved him with all my heart, but it was sad to think I didn't mean anything to anyone else.

Of course those nasty thoughts faded away once we arrived, the smell of corn and peanuts warming my heart and making me feel at home.

"Pula a fogueira, iaiá! Pula a fogueira, ioiô! Cuidado para não se queimar, olha que a fogueira já queimou o meu amor..."

"What are you singing? Did you just say the campfire burnt your lover?"

"Yeah, we jump over the fire, it's a traditional game."

"Sounds like a stupid game, and when you play stupid games, you know what happens..."

"Stupid prizes, I know! It's just a silly old song, we don't actually have to do it. Also, you're the last person who should be saying that, you play stupid games all the time."

Klaus simply shook his head, he knew it was true, but he has always been that way, a 'do what I say not what I do' type of person, especially when it comes to me.

"So, where's all the food and the booze?"

"That's all you ever care about, come on," I teased.

Brazilian food is always a winner, so after we got ourselves two plates piled with treats and two paper cups with hot wine, we found a little spot next to the fire. It wasn't as glamorous as I imagined it would be, but I was happy anyway.

"So, what else are we supposed to do around here?" he asked.

"I don't know... I guess it's just one of those things that is a lot more fun when you're a kid," I mused, wishing I still had that childhood spark that makes everything more magical.

Not that my spark was ever all that bright given the situation we all grew up in, but I used to dream of a different future. A future when dad's actions wouldn't affect us anymore and I'd finally be free to be the person I always wanted to be without feeling scared.

Little did I know, I was simply hoping my trauma would go away, which obviously never happened, it only deepened as time went by, like a scar that never fades.

"Then let's be kids."

"What?"

"Let's be kids tonight, I haven't seen you so excited about a party in forever, I'll be damned if you don't enjoy it! Come on, let's jump over the fire, square dance, whatever."

"Awww you're the best, Klausie!" I cried, pulling him to the place where everyone was dancing to the sound of...

Moça bonita

Seu beijo pode

Me matar sem compaixão

Eu também não sei se é

Ou pura imaginação

Pra saber, você me dê

Esse beijo assassino

Nos seus braços de mulher

"What does it mean?" he asked, swaying around with me like we used to do when we had dance lessons.

"It's uh... Beautiful girl, your kiss can kill me without mercy, but I'm not sure it does or it's just my imagination. Just so we know, give me that murderous kiss in your womanly arms."

"Wow! That's hot, you people are horny!"

"You're one to talk," I looked down, blushing.

"Moça bonita, seu beijo pode me matar..." Klaus mumbled softly with that accent of his which nearly turned me into a puddle. "What? You're all red, I thought that only happened when I speak German to you."

"Stop that! I'm not, it's just hot cause we're close to the fire."

"Ooooh I see," he nodded, not believing me for a second. "Do you wanna move somewhere else?"

"No, it's so nice and cozy here, I could stay here forever."

"You mean in my arms or next to the fire?" he smirked.

"Asshole..."

"You love me."

I didn't even realize as time passed and the afternoon became night, when we were too tired to keep dancing, Klaus joined me on a bench made out of a tree trunk as we looked at the stars and tried to avoid the cold, even though it was summer.

That's when two girls passed us by, whispering in Portuguese, dressed like slutty cowgirls and holding two huge glasses of wine:

"Olha aquele gatinho," one of them whispered to the other.

"What?" Klaus immediately felt like he was the subject of their conversation and watched them appraisingly.

"Nothing," I waved him off, trying to ignore them.

"What did she say? She's looking at me..."

"She said she likes your outfit," I lied, looking away so he wouldn't see it in my face.

He stared at me skeptic, he has always known me way too well, that's the eternal curse of growing up so close to the person you eventually fall in love with, you simply can't hide anything from them.

"I heard gatinho, that means cute, I know that!" he laughed. "You say it a lot. Does she think I'm cute?"

"I- I guess... I won't be your translator though!"

"Who needs a translator when our tongues are in each other's mouths?" he taunted, knowing he would upset me. Sometimes that's just what siblings or best friends do, they piss you off, it's their job.

"Fuck you. I'll get us some pamonha," I got up and walked to the stand knowing I was taking the risk of coming back to see my brother all cozy with that cow... girl. That cowgirl. "Me vê duas, por favor," I ordered, trying not to think about it.

"Ei, aquele menino com o cabelo cacheado, (Hey, that boy with the curly hair,)" I felt a hand on my shoulder and nearly went into combat mode, it was the girl and her friend. At least they didn't go after him now that he was alone. "Ele não é brasileiro, né? (He's not Brazilian, is he?)"

"Não, (No,)" I shook my head, hoping that the conversation would end soon. "Ele é alemão. (He's German.)"

"Ah! Que legal! Você sabe se ele namora? (Oh cool! Do you know if he has a girlfriend?)"

"Sim, comigo, (Yeah, I'm his girlfriend,)" I said without even thinking.

"Really?" Klaus chuckled.

I looked over at the bench where I left him, it was empty, he was now standing behind me with the biggest smirk on his face. He understood enough Portuguese to know what I said and it only made me wanna dig a hole and stick my head in there forever.

"Um- I mean-" I shakily turned around to face him.

"Tá tudo bem, amor, (It's okay, love,)" he kissed my forehead. "Wanna go sit down?"

"Yeah, sure," I handed him his damn pamonha and we left, I knew he was about to tease the shit out of me, but it was the price I'd have to pay for cockblocking him. "Don't get all full of yourself, I just didn't wanna third wheel again."

"Aham, that's okay," he nodded, unwrapping the corn leaf on his lap. "You don't have to make up excuses, you were jealous of me."

"WAS NOT!"

"Was too!" he laughed.

"You're being dumb."

"Okay, then I guess I'll go get her number and explain the misunderstandi-"

"No! Come on, don't be a dick."

"Fine, then admit that you just want your big brother all to yourself."

"We were born literally at the same time, you're not my big brother."

"Say it, Victoria Maria!"

"I- I want you all to myself."

"Want me all to yourself what?"

"I want you all to myself, big brother," I huffed.

"See? Wasn't that hard."

Tag List: @elliethesuperfruitlover @firstpersonnarrator @holidayspirits @seanfalco @salvador-daley

#umbrella academy fanfic #umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy klaus #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves x oc #klaus hargreeves #tua fanfic #tua klaus #tua #tua au #the eighth child #fanfic #one shot #robert sheehan character fic

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lloydskywalkers · 4 years ago

Text

heirloom

first things first, this is entirely the product of the lovely @ninjawhoa‘s artwork, which you can find here (if you haven’t seen it already please give go give them love it’s sO good!!) so full credit to that piece for the inspiration :’D

second things i have a lot of feeling about lloyd. as always. happy birthday green boy i promise this is not entirely angst T-T

Forgotten

Lloyd is six years old and a child, and he cries more than all the other boys at Darkley’s put together.

He cries the first time he skins his knee, the first time he breaks his wrist, the first time the older boys crush the little frogs that live in the pond, the first time someone tells him he’s been forgotten by his family and every time after.

And that’d be okay, maybe. Like Brad putting fire ants in his bed the first night, it was only that first time. Lloyd learned to expect pranks after that and everything was fine. He learned how to act like a Darkley’s boy and eventually everyone forgot about it. It’s lame that Lloyd cried the first time, but at least it’s just the first time. If he learns to stop after that, then eventually, everyone will forget about it.

But Lloyd, six years old and brimming with his own ocean, doesn’t stop.

“What’s wrong, Garmadon? Gonna cry again?”

Lloyd stares at the frog, its eyes bulging just where its head sticks out from beneath Finn’s shoe. His lip stings, too-sharp teeth biting too tight. Lloyd hates his teeth. They always hurt, like all the times everyone tells him he’s nothing like his father.

“You should’a killed it slower,” another boy chimes in. “He always cries when they start croaking.”

Lloyd’s nails bite into his palms. He likes the frogs’ croaking, usually. It’s why he ended up over by the pond today, ‘cause they’re small and green and he likes how soft they are when they climb all over his hands.

His eyes burn, and one of Lloyd’s sharper teeth breaks through the skin of his lip. He shouldn’t’ve gone to see the frogs today. He shouldn’t’ve ever gone in the first place. If he hadn’t, the other boys wouldn’t’ve come over, and the poor frog wouldn’t be under Finn’s shoe right now. All Lloyd ever does to nice things like frogs is get them killed.

“Huh,” Finn squints at Lloyd, flinty eyes narrowing. “Maybe if I…”

His shoe comes down hard, squashing the frog flat with an ugly squelching sound. There’s a horrible echo of silence, and Lloyd hiccups.

“There we go,” Finn grins. He doesn’t have sharp teeth like Lloyd, but they always look so much crueler than his own ever have when he smiles like that. “Crybaby Garmadon. Can’t believe you’re still at school with us, all you ever do is blubber. What kinda villain are you, anyways?”

Lloyd wants to snap back. There’s not just tears in him, there’s fire too, and he’s the son of the Dark Lord. His blood boils, and for a second he thinks of vengeance—

Then it’s gone, lost in Lloyd’s overflowing ocean, and hot tears streak down his cheeks.

And that’s how it always goes. It’s awful, because Lloyd doesn’t even like crying. It doesn’t make him feel better, and it certainly doesn’t help anything. All it does is get him made fun of — son of the Dark Lord and grandson of the First Spinjitzu Master, and the best Lloyd can be is an embarrassment, crybaby Garmadon with no real friends.

He tries, of course. He tries, he tries so hard, but Lloyd can’t learn to stop. He bruises and breaks inside and out, bleeding but never scarring over. The scrapes on his knees heal up faster than any other boy’s, but inside Lloyd never toughens. He learns to spit fire and venom and pull up a mask, but his skin heals soft and Lloyd’s heart never gets any harder.

Even after he’s left the gates of Darkley’s, anger burning in his gut like a disease, he never stops welling up and running over, spilling out like an unending fountain of misery.

Chosen One

It’s the first time in Lloyd’s life he can remember wearing a color other than black, and he should be happy. He should be excited, ‘cause green’s always been one of his favorite colors and now he gets to wear it all the time, and ninja gi’s are so much more comfy than the stuffy Darkley’s uniforms.

Instead, he just wants to cry.

And he’d though the weapons lighting up were pretty, at first.

The first thing Lloyd does, once the others are distracted enough and there aren’t anymore eyes on him, is bolt. It takes longer than he’d thought, and his eyes nearly burst from pressure, but he probably should’ve expected that. He’s the Green Ninja now, after all.

Lloyd sinks his teeth into his lip, trying desperately not to let the burn in his eyes overflow. He can’t cry now. He’s the Green Ninja, he’s got a destiny, and people with destinies like that don’t cry. The ninja have been talking about the Green Ninja for weeks, Lloyd knows what they expect. They expect a hero, a savior, and now they’re stuck with Lloyd. It’s the least he can do not to cry.

Well, not in front of them, at least.

Lloyd squeezes himself between the pipes in the engine room, crawling into one of the corners as he sniffs thickly. If no one knows he’s crying, then it doesn’t really count, right? If none of the ninja, or Nya, or Uncle Wu, or his dad — if they don’t see him cry, then it doesn’t count. They never have to know. Lloyd will just — he’ll just make sure to be extra quiet, and no one will have to know that the Green Ninja’s a stupid crybaby.

Something hot trickles down his right cheek, and Lloyd bites his lip furiously. He goes to wipe angrily at it, then freezes. The sleeves of the gi he’s wearing are a deep green, soft but sturdy and nicer than anything Lloyd’s ever owned in his whole life. He’s immediately horrified with himself. This is the green gi, everything everybody’s ever wanted, apparently, and Lloyd’s gonna go wiping his tears all over it?

Stupid, stupid, stupid, Lloyd scolds himself, sniffing wetly again. He’s only been the Green Ninja for a day and he’s already ruining it.

The pipes creak loudly as someone’s footsteps echo from above, and Lloyd sucks in a breath, drawing his knees up to his chest. He feels a little sick to his stomach, and his heart feels like it decided to start running laps in his chest.

Green Ninja. He’s supposed to save Ninjago. Lloyd can’t even save one tiny frog. How in the world is he supposed to save everyone from his own dad?

The sick feeling grows worse, and Lloyd’s eyes grow blurry. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, refusing to let them well over. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t—

“Hey, Lloyd, you in here?”

Lloyd’s eyes snap open, and gasps out a sharp breath of surprise. He immediately claps a hand over his mouth, cursing himself, but it’s too late. Kai’s already tracked him down, squinting at him through the mess of pipes.

“Seriously, you pick here to hide?” Kai frowns. “I could’ve sworn you were claustrophobic.”

Lloyd has no idea what that means, but he wasn’t planning on saying anything back anyways. He buries his face in his arms instead, before Kai gets any ideas about what Lloyd’s doing down here.

“Hey, you uh — you wanna come out, so we can talk about it?”

Lloyd pulls his arms around his head tighter, and doesn’t look up.

Kai groans, sounding defeated. “Fine, I’ll do it your way. Just — gimme a sec.”

Despite himself, Lloyd peeks over his arms, watching as Kai gingerly squeezes himself around the pipes.

“How did you — ow — even get yourself in here — ow, son of — in the first place?”

Lloyd stares with wide eyes as Kai wrenches himself through the last of the pipes, scowling as he brushes his hair back into place. He shakes his head, then sits next to Lloyd with a huff, clearly uncomfortable in the cramped space.

“So, um. You want to. You want to, uh, talk about it? The whole ninja thing?”

Kai winces the moment he finishes speaking, but Lloyd’s too busy biting his lip to care much. Why did Kai have to come now? He’s just starting to think Kai might like having him around, and now he’s gonna see Lloyd crying, and he’s gonna — he’s gonna—

Kai’s eyes widen as he meets Lloyd’s own. “Or, uh, you don’t have to talk. We can just sit here, if you want, but—” He blows his breath out, messing with his hair again. “You’re not alone, okay? And it’s okay to be scared, but you’ve got us, so…maybe you can be…a little less scared.”

Oh. Kai looks pained as he trails off into silence. Lloyd swallows. He can feel the familiar slip of tears down his cheek, but he doesn’t sob. He doesn’t buckle over, or hiccup, he just gives a shuddery little breath and blinks away the blurriness. Kai’s eyes go even wider, and Lloyd watches him scramble for his pockets.

“Aw, kid — um, hold on, I think I’ve got a — wait, no, Zane’s the only one who ever has tissues, um—”

Clearly at a war with himself, Kai finally tugs the edge of his gi sleeve over his hand, and gingerly dabs at Lloyd’s cheek. Lloyd sits frozen, eyes still wet. Despite the awkward way Kai cringes, he’s still gentle as he wipes the tears away. He doesn’t laugh at Lloyd, or call him crybaby, or an embarrassment. He doesn’t even mention the Green Ninja.

Lloyd’s eyes still overflow, but he can’t help but think that maybe — maybe Kai is the kind of person he’d trust with the little frogs. He seems like the kind of person who could get it, maybe.

Leader

Lloyd’s been figuring he’d learn how to stop crying when he gets older. He hadn’t been figuring it’d be so soon.

He grows up, just…much quicker than he thought he would. He also gets taller, and his voice gets deeper, and his legs are too long and his arms are too strong and everyone treats him like he’s the most grown-up kid in the whole entire world.

Well, except for the times the guys and Nya treat him like he’s five, but — those are getting less irritating, the further he gets. But Lloyd’s undeniably older, and he could be alright with that. He’s the Green Ninja, and he is alright with that.

He just wishes he’d gotten used to being the Green Ninja a little longer, before the Golden Ninja got added on top of everything else too.

“You’ve inherited the power of your grandfather,” Uncle Wu — Sensei, when in training, and around important people — tells him, his eyes shining. “It’s an incredible gift, Lloyd. The power of the Ultimate Spinjitzu Master — few have even dreamed of possessing such a thing.”

Well Lloyd’s definitely not one of those few. He’d known about the First Spinjitzu Master, but everything he knows about the Ultimate Spinjitzu Master is a lot more…hand-wavy.

“Hand-wavy is hardly the way to talk about it,” his mother scolds, even as she frowns at his ankle. Things had finally calmed down enough for the others to drag him off to a doctor for it, even though Lloyd had argued it was fine. And it should’ve been — the golden power’s gotta be good for something, and if it can’t even fix the ankle you snapped fighting to get it in the first place then what’s the point?

His mother finishes tying the wrapping off, and Lloyd flinches as his ankle throbs, the thick bandages pulling tight. The reminder of how it had first cracked on the Dark Island still makes him nauseous, but it’s not nearly as bad now. He swallows it back easily, just like he did back when he first woke up with it. This is nothing, compared to climbing the tower. And even then, he barely noticed.

At least broken bones are easier when you’re older, he thinks, dully listening to his uncle and mom argue about the golden power again. He slips out of the room as quietly as he can, hurrying back to where he last saw the others. It’s not like he’s ever really involved in the conversation, anyways. Lloyd gets the golden power whether Lloyd likes the golden power or not, end of discussion. It might’ve been nice to be part of the discussion, but he’s…he’s okay with it. Most of the time.

Lloyd swallows, then shakes his head, trying to smile instead. It’s not that he’s ungrateful, and he doesn’t understand how he’s still so selfish — he’s got a family now, more than he’d ever dreamed of having. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, and a few more titles should be easy price to pay.

They just — they feel so heavy, sometimes, all piling on top of each other. Lloyd’s barely began figuring out how he’s supposed to be the Green Ninja, and now he’s got all these other titles to figure out, too?

He kicks dully at the ground. He thought things were supposed to make sense, when you got older.

They don’t, though, and it drives him crazy because they never do. He’s the Golden Ninja then he’s not the Golden Ninja, he’s the Green Ninja but also the elemental master of what’s-it-called, and now Uncle Wu’s calling him leader during training, and Lloyd nearly breaks his neck tripping over his own feet.

It’s not a pretty look, judging by the concerned expressions the others are wearing. Lloyd passes it off as exhaustion, and begs off training for the day instead. There might be a look of concern that passes across Uncle — Sensei Wu’s face, but Lloyd misses it if there is. He’s too busy reeling, spiraling in a dizzying loop as his footsteps take him aimlessly away from the training grounds.

It’s okay, he tells himself. He’s come this far. He’s got so many titles already, what’s one more? And really, compared to Golden Ninja, leader is—

Lloyd’s stomachs turns, and he bites his lip. Well, maybe he’s more frightened than he’d like to admit.

He sucks a breath in, steadying himself. Leader. It can’t be such a scary word forever, right? He can make it work. This is Kai, and Cole, and Jay, and Zane. They’re his family. If he can’t lead them, he may as well hang up the green gi now.

And that’s obviously not an option.

Lloyd takes another steadying breath, and blinks. His eyes sting, but it’s not with any kind of tears. It’s an odd, tinging kind of sting, like the kind that pulses through his fingertips, that sings through his veins. He’d say it’s strength, but it feels more complex than that. Either way, he takes strength from it. Lloyd blinks again, looking back up to the monastery, and his eyes are dry.

He’s older now. He doesn’t cry anymore. His heart might refuse to harden, and he doesn’t doubt it’ll ever stop breaking, but Lloyd’s ocean, overflowing and bleeding over, has finally run out.

Or that’s what he likes to think, at least.

Hero

At this point, Lloyd doesn’t think he’ll be surprised by anything. There’s a benefit in growing his hair and having his voice finally change, other than the obvious — it’s a lot easier to just despair internally now, and hopefully still look like he’s cool and composed.

Not that anything about what Harumi and his father’s done to him is cool, but…Lloyd is better at resigning himself to these things. At least he’s old enough to start the conversations himself, now.

Lloyd still doesn’t know how old he is. He supposes it doesn’t matter as much, now that he knows what’s running through his blood. The days he used to fear it was venom are long-gone and laughable — is the blood of an Oni worse? The blood of a dragon, surely, has to mean something good, but Lloyd is made up of so many pieces he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to be now.

He could be bitter, maybe, that he’s gone his whole life not knowing what he is, but bitterness is something that’s never rested long in Lloyd’s heart. Even before the city’s stopped burning and his father’s locked away, it’s hard to hold onto it. He’s never quite been able to shake that. He’s got more scars than he can count now, but his heart still heals soft. Anger isn’t something he can hold onto for very long, and resentment doesn’t work that well when you’re the one that ends up feeling bad.

He doesn’t cry anymore, though. Not after the sky tram. Not when his bones break, not when his father spits in his face, not when Zane freezes the better part of him with hateful eyes. Harumi and her downfall may have scarred him, but part of Lloyd can’t help but be grateful that she’s finally done what Darkley’s never could.

Lloyd’s scarred over, his skin finally toughened.

And yet—

Lloyd hurries away from the streets, sparing the car that’s honked at him a dirty look before tucking his hands against his rain jacket, sheltering his cupped palms from the misting rain. It’s not a bad storm, but it’s enough to turn the sky a silvery gray as he climbs the steps to the monastery, his pace quicker than usual as he cuts a path to the ponds.

He skids a few feet on the wet grass as he goes, biting back a curse as his shoes slip wildly before he catches his balance again, hands still held close to his chest. He breathes a quick sigh of relief, before picking his way over to the nearest of the small ponds that dot the monastery gardens.

“Here you go, little guy,” he murmurs, finally pulling his hands from his jacket, revealing the tiny frog cradled gently in his palms. The poor thing trembles in his hold, still shaking from the near-miss when Lloyd fished him from the worst of Ninjago City’s rush hour traffic. He might’ve missed it himself, had it not been for the slight flash of green along the worn grey pavement.

He lowers himself carefully near the pond, dipping his hands in the shallows of the water. The frog doesn’t move at first, it’s eyes wide and buggy as it shelters in Lloyd’s palms.

“It’s alright,” Lloyd assures it quietly. “It’s safe, here. Promise.”

The frog considers the pond before it, big eyes blinking. Then, in two short hops, it splashes into the water, swimming a few feet before nestling at the edge of a water lily. It lets out a single, happy croak.

Lloyd watches it for a moment longer, his hands still half in the water, raindrops splattering over his jacket sleeves. Finally satisfied that the frog is content, he stands, shaking the water from his hands before remembering he’s soaked from the rain anyways. Sighing, he spares the frog one last glance, his lips curving into a smile as he turns away, wiping rainwater from where it drips down into his eyes.

Lloyd is older than he’d thought he’d get to be and still a child, and he doesn’t cry at all.

Then again, he’s gotten better at finding the bright sides, these days.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #bc i cannot write one fic where he doesn't sneak his way in #also slight animal cruelty tw the darkley's kids aren't nice :((#but only that tiny bit the rest is lloyd being lloyd #nwuh ily #my fic

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when-wax-wings-melt · 4 years ago

Note

ooh! random thing for the ask game bc i’m curious xD

001 (tell me a ship) sokeefe? o.o

send me a ship and I will tell you:

when I started shipping it if I did: well. I mean. technically I started shipping it when I first read Exile... then I stopped... then I started... now I only ship it in fanon

my thoughts: lkajldkjjsdlk

What makes me happy about them: CUDDLES OMG CAN YOU IMAGINE KEEFE NOT KNOWING HOW TO CUDDLE??? BC HE'S NEVER REALLY HAD THEM??? AND THEN SOPHIE LIKE... TEACHES HIM HOW TO CUDDLE.... EXCUSE ME WHILE I CRY FOR A HOT SEC

What makes me sad about them: *sigh* Keefe

things done in fanfic that annoys me: Fitz being villainized to make Keefe seem like the better option when Biana is RIGHT THERE

things I look for in fanfic: Fitz positive (lol sounds like he's a disease), hurt/comfort,,,, angst,,, sokeefe angst is grhrghghrgh

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Keefe with: Fitz, Tam, and/or Dex. Sophie with: Fitz, Biana, Linh, Marella, Stina, or any mixture of them

My happily ever after for them: Keefe takes Sophie's last name... they get married at a small wedding and Keefe's dad is not invited... Fitz is the best man... hrghhgh they adopt a kid and live in peace... jgrhghghrgfhghhfhf...

who is the big spoon/little spoon: ,,,sophie big spon,,,,

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: FLOWERPICKING, BITCHES. Or also Keefe likes to draw Sophie and she models for him 🥰

#maybe I do ship it a little shut up #summer gets an ask #Aves asks #ask games #emoji tw #sokeefe #kotlc

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applepi-1 · 3 years ago

Text

The photographer -Iwaizumi Hajime (Part 1)

Okay so this is kinda different- but not really. First-person.

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 -

About:

Oi, My name is Y/n L/N, I'm 17 years old, I go to Aoba Jousai. I'm not like most girls, I'd rather take pictures of nature, than myself. I'd rather study, than worry about boys. I like to draw and sing, more than fangirling over the one and only Oikawa. I get hurt easily, so I stay far from people. The only thing I really have in common with every girl is... I'm very insecure. I have fat thighs, and chubby arms, not too chubby. But chubby enough. I have belly fat that I don't really care for. I have a secret... I distant myself from people for their safety. I'm sick. And I don't know if I'll make it. So, I make sure people know how 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 they are. But then he happened... ʰᵉ changed my whole perspective. I all of the sudden wanted him to be the main thing I take photos of. So what does a girl do at the time of wanting to take photos of someone perfect?

Easy. We ℓιє.

—

I'M NOT THE AVERAGE GIRL, anybody who crosses my path knows it. I'm not popular, I hate fangirls. Always fanning over someone named Oikawa, I have never seen him, every time I tried to see what the big deal was, I can't get past people's heads. Who knew fan girls have bigger heads? Not me. I gave up after a week, if he was pretty as people fan over, I wanted to take pictures of him. But no, his fans don't like to share. See, I'm a photographer and I love taking photos of people. People who catch my eye, people like to call them special. I don't see why, but they do. I just like taking photos of people who are interesting. I can't describe it, lately, I feel like I'm losing my touch. I'm sick. I was diagnosed with cancer when I was 13, that's when I got the ability to see the right people take photos of. Now... that I'm getting worse, I feel like I'm losing my touch. I have no parents to help me through this, they died when I was 15. Been by myself for 2 years, no friends. I chose it's better to distance myself from people. So they don't get hurt, I had a friend before... but I ended it, keeping my distance. She never knew, I never had the guts to tell her. So here I am, now 17, laying in bed, drawing. I looked out the window and saw it was a pretty day. Sitting up, I grabbed my camera, putting my shoes on, and heading out the door. What a beautiful day. I smiled as the wind blew, walking to my usual spot. I put my camera to my right eye, sighing when nothing catches it. I turned around a bit and stopped. Him, he has black, spiked-up hair and slightly thicker than average eyebrows. His eyes are dark brown. Him, I still got it. He was blowing on his hands to get warm but to me... I don't get cold. Some meds they have me on, I hate it. I took the photo, maybe, just maybe, I still have it in me. I gasped as my camera hit the grass. "I am so sorry." I turned around and stopped.

“F/n?” I looked at the h/c girl, and e/c, my old friend. F/n F/L/n

"Y-Y/n?" I nodded my head a little, still frozen in my spot. "How are you? I mean... since.."

"I'm fine." I suck at lying.

"No.. you're not." I sighed and grabbed her hand leading her to a bench.

"There is so much to tell you."

"I'm listening."

"I'm sick." Her face changed and she stood up.

"Then let's get you home."

"No." I grabbed her hand and sat her back down. "I'm sick."

"For how long?"

"Since I was 13." Her face soften and she looked down. "That's why I left, I didn't want you to be hurt if I just... died."

"But it still would've hurt. Why now?"

"You deserve to know the truth." She looked like she was lost in thought.

"What's the stage?"

"2, um, they say it can still be cured but..."

"They're not saying for sure." I nodded my head sighing. "Still taking photos?" I smiled and lifted it up.

"Definitely." We laughed and leaned back, as the wind blew. F/n shivered but noticed how I just closed my eyes and relaxed.

"You're not cold?"

"Nah, the meds they have me on prevents me from feeling. Like cold, hot, whether stuff."

"I'm sorry, I can't imagine being in your shoes." I sighed and looked down.

"It's not all bad.." I admitted. "One thing I've learned from dying is.. you live in the moment. And I tend to live my moments happy." I closed my eyes and smiled, I turned my head to F/n and smiled more.

"How long did they say you have?"

"17 days, give or take. They don't know when for sure..."

"17 days? Shit, Y/n, that must be hard?"

"I'll be fine. They said my body will probably die last, which means my brain will die first. Meaning they say I might not feel anything." I told her as I stood up. "Want to hang out and watch TV?"

"Anime?" I laughed and nodded my head.

"Sure." She got up and lynched our arms, walking in sync to my house.

"You said earlier about not feeling anything.. when you go. Aren't you scared?"

"Of dying?"

"Well, yeah." She stopped and had a serious look on her face. "Isn't that scary?"

"No... I'm not scared of dying. Truth be told, I'm scared most of losing myself to this disease. That's all that scares me..."

"Yeah, but what about true love? You'll never get to experience it. Isn't that number 14 on your list?" I looked at my old friend remembering our list.

1- Travel the world

2- Start a riot - done, school wanted to close a dance... we got carried away.

3- Beat Mom in chess -done.

4- Skip a week of school -done, doctor appointments

5- Take pictures of extraordinary people -done

6- Take Mom to the secret spot -done

7- Get a guys number

8- Make one guy friend

9- See the other get married

10- First kiss

11- Afterlife?

12- Have a Naruto Marathon -Done

13- Crash Y/n's moms and dads anniversary dance -done

14- Find our true love

15- Fix someone's heart

16- Be in two places at once

17- If the other dies, take a picture of the sky with the caption saying, I'll see you again in another life

18- Make each other godmother

19- Take lots of photos- done

20- BE FRIENDS FOREVER!!

"Yeah it is.. and there is still some we haven't done together."

"True. We can cross off be friends forever.. right?"

"Right."

20- BE FRIENDS FOREVER -DoNe

"I hope you find love before you go."

"Yeah, I doubt anyone will love a sick girl..."

"You never know. Come on. We have school tomorrow. Let's go to my house first, get clothes. Sleepover?" I nodded my head, smiling.

"I'd love that." And that's exactly what we did, watch anime, and have the best sleepover.

#haikyuu #iwaizumi book #chapter 1 #photographer #volleyball player #the celebrity #the chosen one #the beauty #iwaizumi x you #sick #dying #love #life

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kaythewriterx · 4 years ago

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The Flex Brothers

Plot: A young man, Alex Flex (Charlie Hunnam) who deals with life as he is diagnosed with a disease that causes him to go blind at the age of fourteen. Richard, (Tom Selleck) Alex’s father lets him grow and learn on his own, but his mother, Monica (Courtney Cox) wants him to follow into her footsteps. One day, out of curiosity, Alex joins a gym, then wants to be a boxer. His bigger brother Brady, who has a very close relationship with Alex, finds out and is forced to be quiet. The Truth always be told. Richard and Monica finds out and lectures him, but with Alex wanting to finally be on own, he makes a deal. Lose and Quit. Or. Win and Stay.

Dallas, Texas. 22 years ago

"Alex! Look at mommy." a woman laughs as she shakily filmed the little boy who stood in front of her, the child had paid no attention to his mother, but instead the bubbles. The woman zoomed over at another boy, a bit older with his father that had been throwing him gently in the air. She chuckles, pushing her black hair out of her face, squinting at the two as they seemed to be on cloud nine. The summer sun beaming on the family of four, enjoying quality time with each other. "My Richard and our first born, Brady." She lightly whispers still filming the father and son, twirling the blue shirted boy with little demin jeans to match perfectly Monica thought. The woman finally looks over at her younger son, her black hair getting in the way from the precious moment that was being half caught on camera. "You like the bubbles?" Monica places a free hand on her hip, the confused boy looks up with the wand in one hand and the bottle in the other. "Yeah." Alex half squinted at the short woman, he quickly smiles causing her to lightly chuckle, suddenly a squeal escaped her mouth. "What are you doing?" Richard asked his wife lifting her up in the air for a quick moment. "I'm filming our boys-well our family." she smiled looking up at her tall husband, "Ah, well." he frowned and before she could speak, he takes the camera into his hands and pointed it himself. "Hello world, I'm Richard, this is my beautiful, wonderful, smart-" Monica blushes and covers her face, "Stop." Richard laughs and points the camera to the two boys who were standing side by side. "And these are our boys. Brady and Alex, say hi boys." Monica was in awed as they waved towards their father, she quickly picks up Alex as Richard sat Brady on his hip. "And we are the Flex's" the little family smiled at the camera.

Now

The deep green colored grass glistened as the sprinklers lightly doused it, with the American flag blowing perfectly every time the light breeze came and gone in the summer Texas weather. "Alex! Brady!" a woman's voice yelled through the well opened house, she listened for answered before she continued with cutting the carrots. The woman wipes her hands on the red and white apron, pushing her black with a touch of grey hair as she entered the living room where laughter could be heard. "I thought-" she gasps covering her mouth, her eyes went to the tv and straight down to the two men sitting on the brown couch, they turned their heads. "Hey, ma." Brady smiled at his awed mom. Her green watery eyes went to her little boy's, "Hi, mama." Alex's lips curved into a smile. Monica walks over, seeing Richard's crow feet peeking more and more. Her little body made a small thud as she bounced on the couch in between her sons, they all chuckle to see her so lost in the TV. "Ma, you alright?" Brady's fingers lightly touched his mother's arm, "It's been so long, since I've watched this." her hands finally rested on her black slack covered thighs. "When was the last time you did?" Alex reposition himself to carefully listen to her sweet voice, the two sons looked over at their father as he suddenly spoke. "I think it was before Alex turned fourteen." he frowned thinking for a brief moment before looking back at the TV screen. "Yep, my baby boy." Monica lightly squeezed her son's knee causing him to lightly drape his arm around her neck. "I love both of my boys." She giggled looking over at Brady who sat on her right side, she pulled on his stubble chin to bring him closer, carelessly pinching his cheeks. "Ow, ma." he winced in pain, she pressed both of her hands on their knees before she stood to her feet. "Come on, help me set the table." Brady grunted as he stood turning the TV off, Richard quickly got up as he saw Alex, "Need help, son?" he offered a hand, Alex kindly nodded. "No, dad I got it." he grabbed his cane before standing to his feet, Richard put his large hand on Alex's shoulder guiding him into the kitchen. "So, what are we having?" Alex says as he walks in the kitchen hearing the cutlery as it hit the table. "Well, birthday boy. Your favorite of course." His mother smiled taking the hot steamy foil covered dish out of the oven. "Lasagna? Steamed Vegetables? Bread? And Chocolate cake with no icing?" Alex guessed making everyone in the room laugh to themselves. "You're so weird with the no icing thing." Brady shook his head at his younger brother who sat down at the kitchen table. "I iced half of it for you, Brady." Monica interjected, Brady sudden clapped causing Alex jump. "That's why you are the best mother in the whole wide world." He complimented her before sipping on the iced tea. "Okay, now let's say grace." Richard told taking a hold of his wife's and Brady's hand.

"You can let them in now, Brady." Monica says as she scraped the dirty plates into the trash can. "Sweet!" He chuckled going for the side door of the house, letting a black and yellow Retrievers in. "Sunny! Joey! Oh, how are my boys?" Brady said sweetly to the dogs, bending down to hug them around the neck. "You been good?" He asked rubbing Joey's black and grey fur, "Say, 'Yeah, I missed my bubba'." Monica says watching her son playing with his childhood pets. "I missed ya two." Brady kisses the side of both of their heads before he stood to his feet. "You know, I've been thinking about getting a dog." Brady says facing his mother as she was still cleaning the kitchen. "Oh yeah? How come?" she furrows her brows scrubbing the dishes. "Just getting lonely in that apartment of mine." He says taking a hold of a plate drying it off, "What kind?" she looks over at Brady.

Alex hummed as the light breeze hit him in the face, closing his eyes with the sun warming his slouched body. His relaxing time soon ended as he heard the front door open and close behind him. "Sure, is a beautiful day." Richard exhaled with his hands in his pocket, "Yep." Alex says hearing the porch steps creak as Richard took a seat next to him. "Been enjoying your birthday, son?" He looks over at Alex who was staring at the white stairs, "Feel's like any other birthday I've had." He said honestly stirring his feet around hearing the door open again. "Hey." Brady looks at the men sitting down, "Hey, Brady." Richard looks over at his oldest before he leaned on the railing. "How's the oil field going?" Alex spoke up, Brady grunted towards his brother. "It's going. Lot's of hours, you know?" Brady chuckled as he looked up at Richard, nodding to him. Brady takes his seat as he went into the house. "I bet, all that hard labor." Alex shook his head, "Man, you don't even know the start of it, you gotta keep up with a lot of shit, you know? And dad being my boss? Geesh." Alex chuckled more with his brother's humor. "How 'bout you?" Brady's laugh died down turning his head to him, "Seriously? You for real asking me that? You asked me that all the time." Alex sighed with the question he had been given. "And all the time I expect an answer. You’re my brother, A." Brady pursed his lips. "B, I'm blind. Ain't no one want to hire a guy like me." Alex blurted out causing him to furrowed his brows with his younger brother's face expression saying it all. "You don't know that." Brady says with hope in his voice, "You better get home before traffic beats you." Alex suddenly switched the subject. "I'm staying the weekend, you know that." He told, "And why is that exactly?" Alex furrowed his brows in confusion to Brady. "We've been together our whole lives on each other's birthday, why should that stop now?" Brady was taken back at his harsh words. "Because you moved out, that's why." His eyes fell to the ground as Alex grabbed his cane in anger and went back into the house.

The warm lighting hummed as Alex turned on the bathroom light. A low growl escaped his mouth, completely annoyed by the sound above him. He quickly closed the creaky door, setting his cane up against it. His hand slapping anything within reach, tapping on the smooth surface indicating it was a mirror. Alex sighed deeply before running his hands through his longish dirty blonde hair, opening the draw in front of him taking a hold of the razor. His knuckles becoming white as he gripped tighter and tighter. Alex let it fall making a loud thud, his grunts became shaky in frustration. A hot tear escaped falling onto his hand as it was gripping onto the draw, he quickly wiped it away before setting it back on the wood. "Ma?" His hard stare never left when the door opened, Monica looks over at the razor and soon looks up at Alex's watery faded green eyes. She didn't say a thing, she pushed up her black robe's sleeve before grabbing the shaving cream.

The birds chirped into the foggy humid morning air, grey clouds slowly passing by the sun. A man's voice was a light background sound as Richard and Brady were in the kitchen. "More coffee?" Brady looks up seeing him holding the pot. "Oh yes, thank you." He nodded letting the hot steam warms his face as he took a sip. A light creak from footsteps caught the two men's attention. "Holy shit." Brady looked to his left as his father did the same. Alex smiled with his mother right beside him, admiring her work. "Nice haircut, son." Richard raised his coffee mug to his mustache. "Coffee?" Monica asked as her hair bounced in the messy bun she slept in. "Yes, please." Alex replied walking towards the table, his hand hovering over the pink box. "Which one you want?" Brady asked opening the box, "White sprinkle." His hand being opened for his brother to fill with a donut.

As the grey clouds were dusted away by the sun with the early afternoon creeping up, the family of four headed into town. Richard smiled down at his wife as they held hands walking the sidewalk with their sons following behind them. "Is this the store you wanted to go into, Alex?" Monica turns her attention back, seeing the two brothers engaging in their own conversation. "Is it the one I told you about?" Alex raised an eyebrow, his ear rising as well with a bell going off suddenly. The light music echoed through their ears as they looked around the shoe store, Alex's hand slowly ran through the row of shoes. "These are the ones you were talking about. Red, black and white." Monica says holding the shoe in her hands. "Yes." Alex pursed his lips fixating his shoulders. "Okay, great." She smiles as she looks at him, but soon the smile fell as his eyes painfully reminded her. "Thanks, mama." The corner of his lip curved a tiny bit. Monica silently sighs and puts the shoe back in the box and walks to the cashier. A heavy stump got Alex's attention, his cane stopping at the steel toed boot. "Whatchu lookin' at?" Alex asked, Brady grunted as he sat back down at the small black bench. "Well, I need some more shoes. The ones I'm wearing are worn out, so." Brady looked up at his brother who seemed preoccupied. "We'll meet you guys in a bit, okay? I'm going to go look at some house decor." Their mother came into the conversation, they both nodded as Richard guided his wife out of the store. Alex no longer felt Brady's presence, he tilts his head up at the ceiling as something caught his attention. His red tip cane made a light tap as he walked towards the side of the building. He pressed his ear up against the cold wall, his eyes squinting as he tried to figure out the sound that could barely be heard. The sound of the bell going off again didn't faze Brady as he focused on the pair of boots. Grunts, loud rock music, yelling and ropes hitting the floor filled Alex's ears. No one batted an eye towards the lost man as he entered the new building. Alex's squinted to himself as the heavy metal rung in his ears, he lightly gasped as he ran into something hard, "Oh, excuse me." he chuckled waiting for a response. His hand rose up feeling a hard material, he slowly made a fist and punched it lightly. Alex stood there for a moment realizing it was a punching bag. He stepped back and exhaled before punching it, again, again and again till he was out of breath. Alex then clung onto the bag. "Hey, kid, you got a card?" a raspy voice said making Alex jump and grab a hold of his cane, suddenly his heart drops when he couldn't find it. "Uh, I-no, I'm sorry no, I don't." He panics searching for the long plastic tube, his hand reached in front of him feeling a familiar piece. "Looking for this?" the voice asked, "Y-Yes, thank you." Alex nodded to the person as he grabbed a hold of it and turned to his feet. "What's your name?" he stopped in his tracks as the man asked, "Alex... Alex Flex." he turned his head, following the voice. "Well, Alex Flex... you wanna tell me what's a blind guy doin' in a gym?" Alex then chuckled turning completely around. "I-I was just curious-that's all." the man chuckled to himself, "Curious, huh?" he looked up at Alex who had his hands resting on top of the cane listening to him. "I'm Eddie-" "Alex! I've been lookin' all over for you man, what the hell?" Brady's voice echoed through the building getting everyone's attention, "Come on, mom and dad are waitin' on us." He pulled on his younger brother out of the gym. "Why were you there in the first place?" Brady looked over at him holding onto a white bag, "I was bored." "Bored, eh?" He chuckled in disbelief walking up the hill where he could see his parents steadily waiting.

Sounds of crickets could be heard throughout the field. Stars decorating the black sky to go along with a bright full moon, shining through the rooted trees shadowing a two-story house. "Alright man, drive safe." Alex's hand slapped onto Brady's, gripping it tightly. "Bye, ma." Monica squeezed her son's waist not wanting to let go. "I'll see you tomorrow, son." Richard nodded as Brady did the same. His calloused hands scuffing up the two dog's fur by his legs. "Be good boys, take care of Alex for me." He told them as he walked down the steps waving a last goodbye before getting into his truck.

Alex let a deep sigh as his tired body hit the mattress, running a quick hand on his face setting an arm behind him. His heavy eyes looked forward, slowly falling into a deep slumber.

9 years ago

"Can you read this, sweetie?" A younger Monica asks Alex as he lifted the glasses to rub his tired eyes. He squinted trying to focus on the extremely blurry white board. "The-The? Dodge?" he sighed knowing that wasn't right, his mom gathered up the poster boards and pushed them aside and looked at the frustrated young teen. "It's okay. Everything is going to be okay." Monica reassured him, lightly squeezing his hand before standing up to go into the living room where Richard watched. He looks back at his son as he sat at the kitchen table with his head in his hands. Monica sighs grunting out as she slumped on the couch. "The drops aren't working, the doctor said it should be helping him." The couched dipped when he sat down beside her, "He also said it might not." he exhaled not wanting to say the words. "I don't get it! He's not getting any better! It's getting worse!" She yelled standing up throwing her hands in the air, Alex lifted his head up, hot tears falling onto the table. "It's not fair, Richard!" she turned to face him, "No, it's not." He shook his head. "I give up, nothing is happening, nothing is getting better." Monica crossed her arms pacing around the room. "I hate to be the one to say it, but yes. Unfortunately, it looks like there's no stopping this disease." Richard explained rubbing his hands together. Alex got up from his chair and ran up the stairs, falling onto his bed hugging the pillow soaking it with his tears. As the morning came, Alex's grey clouds became black. Loud screeching scream hurt his throat as he opened his eyes, blackness.

A loud door slammed behind the teen, echoing through the huge building. The red tip cane meeting the freshly waxed tile with his feet scrapping against it causing friction. As the building stood still, not a single sound could be heard made the hairs on Alex's forearm stand. Suddenly, he grunts out, making the books in his arms fall to the ground as he puts his hands on his ears. Students came out of their classrooms like a herd of bulls, the bell finally stops but it kept ringing in Alex's sensitive ears. "Ow!" Alex hissed at the pain when his hands made contact with the floor. "Can someone help me?" his arm reached out for a hand. Alex whimpered as it was slapped away from some kids that laughed. "Awe, what a wimp!" One chuckled, "Poor baby Alex! You gonna cry?" the group of bullies mocked the child that tried to stand. The kids took off as the bell rung once again, Alex pushed anyone who was in the way as he tried to run forward. His ears perked up hearing a familiar voice, "Good morning." Monica says as the last child entered the room, she gasps out as a loud thud hit the wooden door. "Alex?" she furrows her brows seeing her son in such a state of emotion, his breathing was rapid trying to catch his breath. "Mama." Alex's eyes tried to search for the woman with his arms. "Who's this freak?" "That's Alex, I think he's blind." "Oh, my gosh, what a freak!" Those harsh words circled around his brain, "Class, that's not nice, stop laughing." Monica ordered, grabbing a hold of her sons’ shoulders. Alex squealed not knowing who was touching him, "It's okay." she reassured him. "N-No it-it's not! I-I can't see!" His breathing quickens, heart pounding against his chest like it was about to explode. Laughter grew and grew causing Alex to panic through tears and turn around only to run in the door, he had no time to react as he ran out of the room. Loud chattering, doors slamming, lockers being shut and footsteps all rang through his ears. Alex grunted out, scraping his body against the concrete rushing out of the building. Droplets of tears left a mark on the ground when he finally stood to his feet, bloodshot watery eyes following up to the sounds of chirping.

Now Alex blinked out of concentration when a car passing by honked, the man huffs turning back to where his attention was before. He grips the silver door handle and walks in. "Can I help you?" a youngish man asked. "Yes, I'm looking for Eddie?" Alex furrowed his brows setting his hand on the desk, "Eddie. Who?" the man nodded his head in confusion. "Jason, go make yourself useful and clean the bathroom." Alex turned to the familiar voice he heard not too long ago. "Hey, Alex, right?" "Yes, sir." He smiles towards the presence that stood in front of him. "What are you doing here?" Alex sighs, putting his head down for a second before speaking. "I want to join your gym." Alex waited for a reaction, more or so a laugh, but it confused him when he didn't. "Follow me." He was shocked as the man seemed okay with it. Alex follows Eddie into an office, he reaches out and feels the cold metal, taking a seat. "Let's get to know one another before anything." The older man grunts as his knee’s pops scooting up to his desk, "Why do you want to join my gym?" Eddie bluntly says, Alex folds his hands together. "Well, I didn't know this place even existed till about a week ago and I've always enjoyed staying fit." Eddie leaned back into the leather chair, and hummed. "I can see that." He glanced at his body, as he seemed well feed. "I'd really like to join." Alex smiles, hearing a pen click. "Alex Flex, age?" "23." "Okay." Alex furrows his brows, "That's all?" Eddie chuckles before standing up and walking out. He soon follows behind, feeling weird stares as he came to a stop. "Johnny and Andy clear out." Eddie snaps his fingers, Alex hears the Velcro coming undone. "Come on." Alex sets his cane on a table nearby before entering the ring. "Andy, wrap this gentleman up." The man ordered, Alex soon felt gloves being tugged on. "Now, Johnny I just want you stand there." The tall man looked over at him in confusion, "Why?" "Because I said so, smart ass." Eddie grunted. Alex felt a hovering body in front of him, soon smelling Eddie's musk on his right side. "Now, Alex. Fight Johnny." "What?!" The two men said in sync looking at the man, "Dad, I'm not fightin' no blind guy." Johnny chuckles for a second before getting smacked in the head. "Yeah, why is he even in here?" Andy also blurted out with other men agreeing. "Quiet!" Eddie roared, everyone stood still as he started to pace around the ring. "If I hear any of you talking shit about this man, so help me God I will throw all of you sorry sons of bitches out. He can be here just as much as you can and last time I checked, it's called 'Russo's Gym'. Not 'Johnny's', not 'Andy's. Mine. So, if you have a problem with it, get the fuck out, are we clear?" "Yes, sir." Everyone including Alex replied back to his announcement. Alex's hands were raised in front of him, "Just punch." Eddie calmly told. Alex nodded and began to hit the man in front of him, one punch at a time before getting dizzy. Eddie gripped the gloves and pulled onto his head, "Listen, you're getting ahead of yourself. You're breathing too quick, too hard. You need to slow and focus on your breathing, focus on what's in front of you, on your feet, your opponent’s feet. Mute everything around you and fight." Alex exhaled, registering his encouraging words. He planted his feet in front of the larger man, closing his eyes and breathing in the cool air. Soon, turning off any sound, but Johnny's footsteps. Boom, Boom, Boom, hit in the stomach. "Good job, Flex." Eddie cheered the younger man. Alex and Johnny circled around each other, some hits and misses, mostly hits. Johnny grunted as a glove met his face, "Damn!" everyone yelled at Alex. Clapping and laughing at the hurt man. "Shit Alex, you got me." Johnny hissed at the pain in his lip, but quickly smiling at him soon, touching gloves with him. "Thanks." Alex smiled listening to the room cheering him on.

"This looks wonderful, honey." Richard smiled up at his wife when she sat down the dish, Alex snickered at the comment. "Thank you." She sighed finally taking a seat after a long day of teaching. "Father we thank you for this wonderful food, that a woman you blessed me with has prepared. Thank you for keeping her and my son safe, we love you. Amen." "Amen." Monica and Alex nodded, letting go of hands and digging in. "So, how was your guy's day?" Richard asked before taking a bite, "It was good, thank goodness every one of my students were on their best behavior." she chuckled. "Wasn't the principal supposed to come today?" He thought as he wiped his mouth off. "Yes, that's why they were so good." They both shared a laugh, Alex just barely showed a smile. "How about you, sweetie?" Monica looked over at her quiet son, "I got a job today." he flinched as two forks scraped the plates. "Sorry, what?" Monica raised her brows, "Yeah." he simply says siting back against the chair. "Where?" She was wanting answers, obviously in shock. "At a store." Richard furrowed his brows when he looked at his wife, "Care to explain more, son?" he shook his head. "It's in back of the store, I'm not actually in the store." He looks to his mom who sat on his right side. Richard frowned, surprised how Alex got the job, let alone wanted one. "I thought we talked about-" "I know, but I think this is better, for now." Monica pressed her tongue against her cheek before going back to eating. "Because I want you-" "I know, ma." He interjected raising his palm up from the table. "Well, I think this is a good thing." Richard raised his glass, Monica squinted her eyes at the man and shook her head. "Thanks, dad." Alex smiles getting up with his plate and went into the kitchen, leaving Monica and Richard feeling different.

The car rumbled through the bumpy street, causing more tension with the mother and son. Monica sighed running her free hand through her hair, Alex stayed silent throughout the ride. His ears perked up, the brakes squealing underneath. "Have a good day." Monica muffled, not bothering to look at him. Alex exhaled, taking his hand away from the handle. "What's so bad about me getting a job?" He turned his head to the left, "We've talked about this, months ago Alex." "Yeah, months ago. I changed my mind." he told, leaving her silent. The handle clicks as he got out, he bent down resting his forearm on the window. "I'll think about it, okay?" She smiled finally looking at her son, "Okay." Alex backs away from the car, waving her goodbye. He looks over, the wind blowing through his spiky hair. "So, today we're just focusing on the punching bag, alright?" Eddie told, standing behind it. "But just the other day I was in the ring?" Alex netted his eyebrows with a light chuckle in his voice. "Yes, but you're still having trouble focusing." "Ah." Alex nodded instantly, Eddie's feet scraped against the flooring, soon stopping behind the man. "Breath, focus on what's in front of you." He obeyed and began to punch the bag, he got twelve hits in before slowing down. "I can't focus with this damn music and these guys working." Alex motioned with his hands before setting them on his hips. "Music and the other noises ain't the problem, son." He stopped pacing feet, "What's really on your mind?" Eddie asked, staring at the young man. Alex sighs, bending his neck back. Contemplating on whether or not to speak truth. "I am a twenty-three-year-old blind man, who still lives with his parents- that begs him to become a fuckin' teacher, but is afraid of doing something else just because of what people will say." Alex sighed, heavy weight practically lifting off his shoulders. "What do you want, Alex?" Eddie blinked, soon meeting his green eyes. "To become a boxer."

A group of men yelled to each other, raising hands to their ears as the loud machines were much louder. “Son of a bitch!” One man grunted, slipping in the mud. “She ain’t bunging!” The man on his knee with a tool wrench told, “Brady!” he looks up at the man who was much cleaner than he was. “Thank you.” Brady nods to him, taking his hard hat off. “Yeah, boss?” Richard scuff. “You don’t have to call me that.” Taking a seat behind his desk. “How can I help you, my father?” Brady laughed sarcastically, turning a chair to take a seat. Richard folded his hands together before he spoke, “Alex got a job.” “Really? That’s great.” Brady smiles. “Your mother doesn’t think so.” Brady took his hand off of his thigh, “Why?” “Brady, I have no idea what’s goes on in your mother’s mind sometimes.” Richard sighed. “He’s a fucking grown ass man.” He shouted, “You don’t think I already know that?” he looks up at his now standing son. “Sir, Morrow is at it again.” The two men look at the new one that appeared, “Fucking hell, tell that son of bitch to get his ass up here now!” Richard pointed at the guy who nodded in response. “I swear this job is gonna kill me one of these days.” Richard sits back down, Brady looks back at his father. “I want you to do me-your mother a favor.” Richard corrected himself, “Which would be?” he motioned his hand. “To check on your brother as much as you can.” “What?! Why can’t she fucking do it?” Brady furrowed his brows, “If she does it, Alex will be furious with her, so.” Richard waved. Brady grunted, rubbing his aching neck, “I got over eighty hours this week.” “You can take off when I tell you.” Brady looks over when the door opened, Morrow was covered in mud. “Do not take one fucking step in my office, you do and I’ll kill you.” Richard told, Brady put back on his yellow hat and walked past the filthy man.

Alex’s phone vibrated through his grey sweatpants, “Hello?” “Eh, little bro.” Brady said making Alex chuckle as he walked down the sidewalk. “What’s up?” “Oh, you know, nothing much. Just got on break.” He could hear his cane sliding on the rough concrete, “What bout’ you?” Brady asked. “I just got off, from work.” Alex snickered hearing his brother’s coos, “Yeah, I heard, pops told me.” Alex heard the microwave beep on the other side, “It’s just a bunch of packing and whatnot.” “It’ll put a couple of bucks in your wallet, yeah?” Alex sighed in agreement as he took a seat on a bench. “That’s what’s it’s all about.” Brady chuckles taking a seat as well, with his dinner in his free hand, “Alright, well, I just wanted to check on ya.” Brady swallowed, “You don’t need anything, do you?” “Nah, Brady I’m good.” “You don’t need me to beat up anyone, do ya?” Alex chuckles, lifting his head up. “Nah, B.” Brady looks down at the dark colored carpet, “Alright, take care, A.” “You be safe out there.” “You too, man.” Brady sighs ending the call.

“Kick! Kick! Kick!” Eddie shouted, watching Alex lifting his leg towards the punching bag. Alex grunted, sweat beaming off of his skin, music blaring in the background. “Stand, punch!” Alex jumped, planting his feet on the ground and punched, “Dodge, dodge!” he swiftly moved his shoulders side to side. “Focus, turn and kick with a punch!” He exhaled, turning on his heel, lifting his left leg grunting coming in contact with the hard bag. “Argh!” He fisted, swinging his arm into the bag making it bounce back from the chain. “That’s what I’m talking about!” Eddie squeezed his shoulders as he rested against a cold beam. Alex moved his jaw, taking in the ice-cold water, “Good work, Flex.” Johnny complimented the tired man. “Thanks.” Alex smiled, wiping the sweat before it got in his eyes. “Brady!” He looked up from the ditch, the hot blazing sun staring down. “Go.” Richard nodded off, Brady’s hands landed on his hips and looked at the men that surrounded him, “Get back to work, fellas.”. He took off his gloves and hard hat, listening to the beep noise coming from his truck. Brady grunted lifting himself up from the handle and started the engine. “You’re doing great, kid.” Eddie told, taking a seat by the man, “I appreciate it.” Alex nodded taking one last sip. “Andy and Johnny your son’s?” He asked, listening to them laugh just a few feet away. “Yeah, they got some smart mouths on them but, they’re great kids.” Alex lightly chuckles, “It’s been hard for them, ever since their mother died.” he sighs, “Oh shit, man, I’m sorry I- ““No, it’s okay, I don’t mind talking about it-Hell I haven’t talked about Helena… damn has it really been that long?” Eddie sighs, thinking to himself. “Andy was a mamma's boy-that boy got away with anything around that woman. Now Johnny? That boy has a mouth on him, he is one tough son of a bitch, reminds me of myself back in the day.” He chuckles, making Alex smile. “How that woman put up with me, I’ll never know.” “I can tell you really loved her.” Eddie looks over to him, Alex looked up. “How?” “Your heart… it picked up when you started talking about her.” Eddie did a double take at the man who seemed happy, he scuffs in disbelief. “Even when gone, she still puts butterflies in my stomach.” He smiles before standing to his feet, “Awe, Ed, I didn’t know you had a heart.” Alex chuckles. “I don’t care if your blind son, I’ll kick your ass.” Alex threw his head back in laughter, “Come on, on your feet.” Eddie slapped the punching bag. The brakes eased as Brady tapped them, slipping off his seat belt and turning the key. His steel toed boots meeting the black road, fiddling with his keys before putting the in his pocket. Loud rock music being muffled by the building next to the store, he chuckled taking a quick look at the men working out. His boot scrapping against the concrete as he came to a sudden stop, “What the…” “Go! Go!” Eddie clapped, Alex grunting his feet coming full force at the bag. “Breath, focus and hit!” He exhaled, closing his eyes, sending multiple hits to the hard material. Alex twirled on his right heel and swung his leg into the air, “Hell yeah!” Eddie cheered with the other men. “Hey! Hey! Whoa!” Brady whistle, waving his hands in the air. The room went silent, everyone looked at the new man, “Brady?” Alex huffed. “Alex, what the hell going on?” His older brother furrowed his brows as Alex chuckled nervously, not knowing where to put his shaky hands. “Um…” “Um? Go on, spit it out.” Brady tuck in his bottom lip, watching Alex struggle to speak. “I’m sorry but, who are you?” Eddie spoke, “I’m his older brother, who the fuck are you?” “Whoa!” “Hey!” they all shouted. “Oh, shut it.” Brady flared his eyes towards the others, “You care to explain to me why you’ve been lying to me?” Brady ducked his head down and into his brother’s eyes.

“You’ve been busy.” Brady started, looking around the quiet office. "Yeah." Alex nodded, as he sat beside his brother Brady who scuffed in disbielf. "Why are you in here?" "Why do you ask?" Alex shook his head, "Because when I see my blind baby brother in a gym, I have the right to know!" Brady stood, "This is the first time I've felt alive, Brady!" Alex matched his brother's loud yelling. "What are you talkin' bout, A?" He furrowed his brows, worried what was going through his brain. "Every since I was fourteen, everyone did everything for me. I couldn't do anything without someone there, but here... I feel free, not trapped." "You feel trapped?" Brady's soft voice caused Alex to sigh, "Lately, I have. And with mom trying to get me to-I don't wanna be no damn history teacher, man." "So, what do you want to do?" Alex paused for a minute, his hands digging into his pockets. "I wanna box." Brady scuffed and lifted himself off the desk he had been leaning on and started to walk. "You gotta be fucking crazy, man." "No, Brady, wait." Alex slammed the door shut, "Alex, really? Fighting? Blind?" The younger brother flinched at his words, "You don't understand, I love it and I'm good at it, Brady I'm actually good at something! Please?" Brady looked at his faded green eyes and exhaled, "What does mom say about this?" Alex ducked his head, "Right, cause mom doesn't know." Brady nodded, "And it needs to stay that way." "What?" "I don't want her finding out about this just yet." Brady looked their hands still on the metal door handle. "Please, B?"

Monica hummed as the summer breeze made her red and yellow sundress flow. She clicked the button, locking her car before entering the market. Light background music filled her ears as she shopped for what she needed, Monica smiled as she saw Alex's favorite snack and placed in the green basket, "I love your dress, it's beautiful." an old woman complimented as she walked by, "Thank you." she smiled back. Monica checked her list, noticing she's still missing one item, "Excuse me, ma'am, where is the soups?" a woman in a white shirt turned around as she was unpacking. "That'll be on aisle 3." Monica smiled, "Thank you." "You're welcome." Monica saw her named tag said 'Manager'. "Oh, I just also wanna ask, how is Alex doing?" the woman furrowed her brows, "I'm sorry?" "Alex Flex, my son, he works here." she nodded her head. "No one under that name works here." "There has to be some kind a of mistake, he works in the back." She pointed, "No ma'am, I'm the manager, I know all my employee's." Monica felt the basket suddenly get heavier, her eyes squinting at the information she had received. She gasped as she felt a hand on her arm, "Oh! Girl I'm sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Another woman says chuckling, "Julie." Monica holds her hand to her chest, exhaling. "I saw you and I wanted to check in on you and see how your family is doing." Julie told, Monica gulped nodding her head and smiled. "They're good, Richard is working hard as a boss." "How does Brady feel about his dad being his boss?" Julie giggled, "He loves it, he loves working hard, always has." "And your baby boy?" Monica silently sighs, tugging on her necklace. "Alex is good." Julie was confused at how blunt she was, "Didn't he just turned twenty-three?" Monica shook her head, "Yep." "Any plans on him moving out any time soon?" "Not that I know of." Monica chuckled, "But what do I know?" Julie chuckles along with her. The dark wooden table dinning table glistened in the warm lighting as Alex sat. He chewed on the sandwich in the early evening, enjoying the peace and quiet, but it soon ended by a loud slam. Alex heard heels click against the flooring, growing louder till they reached the kitchen. The crinkling sound of bags made a thud on the counter top. "What is wrong with you?" Alex was taken back at the harsh words his mother told, "What?" "Don't 'what' me, Alex." Monica hissed back. "I'm sorry but, I'm confused." He squinted, wiping his hands on a napkin. "I know, Alex." Monica placed a hand on her hip, "Know what?" "I know." Alex gluped. "Listen-" Alex placed a hand in front of him as he stood, "No! You listen." Monica started walking closer to her son, who hung his head. "Why did you lie about working at a store?" Alex looked at her in almost relief, "I thought you would be proud of me.." Monica furrowed her brows and crossed her arms. "So, lying to me, your father and brother about getting a job that you don't even work at is suppose to make me proud of you? I'm sorry but that's complete utter bullshit." Alex sighed, "Why do I even have to tell you anyway?" Monica's jaw dropped as he started to walk back to the table. "Excuse me? Last time I checked you still lived under my roof and I have the right to know why you lied to me!" "Well maybe I don't want to tell you every fucking thing that goes on in my life, alright?!" "Whoa, Hey, what's going on here?" From all the yelling, Monica and Alex didn't hear the front door open. Richard looked at the both of them, Monica looked at her husband and stood on her tip toes. "Your son lied about getting a job." Richard looked at Alex, as his hands were lost in his pockets, "Son, why would you lie about that?" Alex hated to tell a lie, especially to his father. "Are you on drugs? Drinking?" Monica blurted out, "What? No." Alex grunted in frustration, "Ugh! I'm not doing drugs or drinking! I've been boxing." "What?!" Monica yelled, leaving Richard silent, which made her even more furious. "Are you serious?" Alex opened to his mouth to say something but nothing came out, "Richard, aren't you gonna say something?" Monica looked up at her husband, Alex looked towards his father's voice, waiting for him to say everything that was wrong with the idea. "What can I say? Honey, Alex is twenty-three years old, I can no longer tell him what to do, even if it's stupid. I'm not going to treat him like a child, he's an adult and he'll learn like one. Plain and simple." Monica scuffed at the words that were coming out of his mouth, Alex was surprised but certainly happy that his father was on board. "I cannot belive what I'm hearing." She threw her hands in the air, "My first fight is this Saturday, I would love for you to be there.. both of you." "You're crazy if you think I'm going." Monica told, "Please, mama?" She shook her head, without Alex not being able to see, he knew. "Look, I'll make you a deal." Alex walked towards his mom, "If I lose, I won't fight again and I'll go to college." She smiles, "But, if I win, I'm gonna stay and become a boxer." Monica looked up at her son, who had a smirk on his face that she couldn't say no to. Alex had his eyes closed, his neck arched as he sat on the bench in the locker room. He snickered as he heard the crowd cheer through the thick brick wall from the next room over. Eddie quickly caught Alex's attention when he entered the room, "You nervous?" He asked, crossing his arms. "Nah." He shook his head, standing up. "It's okay to be, you know?" Eddie told, Alex nodded adding a smile. "Nerves fuel the body." Eddie sighed under his breath, watching the young boy punch the air in his red gloves. "Ready?" "Ready as I'll ever be." Alex jumped. "Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for attending tonight's fight. I'm your host, Fred Coan." "And I'm co-host, Jerry Kline." "It's going to be a great one as two young men go head to head. Conner 'Buster' Collins and Alex Flex who doesn't have a name yet, as this is his first ever fight." "I think I hear some music, Fred." Jerry smiled, looking over his shoulder as the lights shined on the man who entered the arena. "You're right, Jerry. Here comes Conner 'Buster' Collins, ladies and gentlemen. This is his third fight, with one win and one lose. So, expect his score to change after this fight." Fred chuckled into the microphone, turning back to watch the fighter enter the ring. The music fades out and the bright lights shadow over the two men. "There's the new kid in town, Alex Flex. I say it again this is his first fight, Jerry." "I heard ya, my friend. Now, there's something you should know about Flex, and this has never happened in the world of boxing, now has it?" "No, it has not." "The fact is, Alex is blind, yes you heard correctly. The first ever blind boxer in American history, does it say in the rule book that this is allowed?" "We have checked all the rules and it does not say you can't be blind and compete, Jerry." "Alright, well you heard it ladies and gentlemen. Let's get this show on the road, shall we?" Eddie's rough hand's were placed on Alex's sweaty, smooth shoulders as they walked up the steps and into the ring. Alex stretched his arms, cracking his neck, bouncing on his tip toes. "Do you see my parent's?" Eddie paused what he was doing and his eyes darted to the crowd and landed on the familiar green orbs. "Your brother." Alex sighed silently, bowing his head. Heels and a pair of boots clicked on the concrete, Richard's hand were on Monica's side as she was rushing into the building. Heavy boots continuously tapped on the floor, finger placed on lips and eyes focused on his baby brother. "Brady!" He looked up waving his calloused hand in the air, motioning his parents to sit next to him. "Did we miss anything?" Richard asks taking the empty chair by his wife who had been silent the whole ride. "They just introduced them." Brady told, the room became quiet as the announcer stood in the middle of the ring. "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to tonight's fight. I'm Ralph Fletcher and on my left is Conner Collins, and standing here to my right is, Alex Flex. Let's get ready to rumble!" "Okay, men. You know what to do, no rabbit punches, now low blows. I want a clean fight, alright? Tap gloves and stand back." The referee ordered, he blew the whistle. "Fight." Alex walked forward, circling around the man in front of him, his feet stayed swift and quiet, focusing on the other movement Conner made. Alex's glove touched his left cheek, earning a cheer from the crowd. Conner brushed it off, dodging one hit and smacking Alex's head. Spinning circles in his mind, he blink, getting one good in the opponents face. "Good job, A!" Brady yelled out, cupping his hands together. Monica's worried eyes went in many directions as the two fight danced around the box. The bell rung, Alex grunted, "Damn that's loud." Eddie gripped on his shoulder, "Remember what I told ya, what'd I say?" "Mute everything around you and focus on the other guy's feet." Alex shook his head. Alex turned, placing his gloved covered hands in front of his chest, Conner landed a hit on his side, "Come on hit me!" Alex backed up his arm, forcing a jab to hit, nothing. Alex's body flew onto the hard floor, hearing the 'Get up's.' 'Come on.' 'Not fair.' and even laughter, moved him to stand up. "Let's go, boy!" Conner threw out, pressing his blue gloves together. Alex sighed, closing his eyes and walked around with him, Alex flew a hard jab to his nose, causing him to back away. The bell rang, he smiles, bowing his head and walked back to Eddie. "Did I mention your parents are here?" He quickly rose his head, "They made it?" Alex smiles. "Go put him down, son." Eddie rubbed his head, sweat beads falling off his glowing body. The two boxers continued to circle around each other, hitting and dodging one another, hearing the boo's and cheer's. Fourth round, Alex's tired body swayed side to side, huffing and puffing. "Come on, brother!" Brady yelled, "You can do it son!" Richard clapped, standing up. He looked down to his wife, arms crossed and teary eyed. "Monica, he's our son. He's not our baby anymore. He found something, something he truly loves. It may not be what you thought, but for him to really shine, you have to be his light, not his darkness." Monica's red painted nails wrapped around his fingers, standing up. "You can do it, Alex!" Suddenly, everything stopped for him. Alex looked towards his mother's words, she smiled at him as he smiled back. Alex barely let the floor make a peep as he danced around Conner, bloody and in pain Conner looked up at him, watching as Alex backed his arm, coming in contact with his temple. Alex made a left jab in Conner's right cheek making him completely go down. The whole crowd roared through the building, Eddie ran to his side, as well as the media and the ref. "Congratulation's to Alex Flex with his first win!" "That was amazing!" "Since this is your first win, do you think you could make a career out of it?" Alex let a small, tired sigh, smiling with his arm around Eddie's shoulder. "Come on, champ." "Wait, there's something I gotta do." Alex told, Eddie knew and guided him out of the ring. "Great job, brotha'!" Brady laughed, picking him up. "Thanks, B" Alex chuckled, "I'm proud of you son." Richard shook his head, "Thanks, dad." Monica looked up at her son, like it was the first day he was born. "Ma?" She engulfed him in a hug, not caring he was in pain. "I love you too, ma." He hugged back. Alex sat on the bench, relaxing after the big fight that happened yesterday. He listened as the other men in the gym worked out, "Hey, fighter." Eddie walked up behind him. Alex chuckled, his bones still aching, bruises peppering his skin all over. Eddie looked at his 'barely there' black eye, "So, what's on your mind?" Alex flicked his finger on his lip as he thought. "To be honest, I'm surprised I won that fight, Ed." "I believe most first time boxers think the same." Eddie replied, grunting as he sat across from him. "Do you think I have a chance in this world?" Alex looked up, Eddie looked him in the eyes. "As long as your hearts in it kid, you have a bigger shot than anyone else." Alex smiled but, quickly faded as he heard the front door open, "Thanks, Russo." "No prob-" "I'm sorry to interrupt but, is a Alex Flex here?" A girl's voice asked, Eddie and Alex turned their attention to her. Eddie stood up, "Who's askin'?" the girl chuckled nervously. "I'm CeCe Stewart, I work for the newspaper and I-" "I'm sorry but, I don't want my boy's face plastard all over the media." Eddie crossed his arms, frowning at the young girl. "I understand, I just thought someone like Alex, would maybe inspire some people like him." Eddie sighed, "Hey, I got it, man." Alex nodded his head, Eddie looked up and down at her and pointed a finger. "Don't get in his head." CeCe placed her shoulder bag beside her as she sat down, "Hello, I'm CeCe." she held out her hand and her cheeks rose in red. "You stuck out your hand out, didn't you?" Alex rested his palm on his knee, "I-I am so sorry, I feel so embarrassed." she giggled, Alex joined her. "You'd be surprised if I told ya I get that a lot actually, people tend to forget." CeCe looked up at him, the sunlight glazed over his green eyes, she'd be lying if she didn't think he was kind of cute. "Do you mind if I ask a couple of questions?" CeCe asks, taking out her notepad and a pen. "Ask away." "Okay, so you're Alex Flex and you're?" "Twenty three." "Only a year older than me." CeCe chuckles. "When did you loose your eyesight?" "Completely loose it? I was fourteen. I had been diagnosed with it when I was twelve." "Ah, I got you." CeCe understood, writing it down, saving the information. "Yeah." Alex nodded. "I heard you won you're first fight last night." "Indeed I did." Alex chuckles. "Unfourtantly I wasn't there, I had no idea about it, I'm not really into the fighting thing." CeCe frowned, putting her stuff away. "Then how come you're interviewing me?" Alex scuffed, confusion was written all over his face. "I heard some of my co-writters talk about it, and I'm the one who writes what's new or a story." "Ah." Alex nodded, still confused. "Could I write a small paragraph about you?" Alex looked in front of him where she sat, and thought. He didn't know if he wanted to be a public figure, or if he was ready to be one. Alex had already gotten some looks, and harassment from life, he didn't know if he was willing to go through with this knowing it might get worse. "Keep it short." Alex pointed, his tone was firm. "Yes, I will." She stood up, gathering her bag. "Oh, one more thing." CeCe said, picking up a camera. "We writers have to include a picture." Alex shook his head, looking in front of him, a click went off

The Daily News

Blind Boxer?

Meet Alex Flex, a 23 year old who lives right here, in the heart of Dallas, Texas. Alex has a passion for boxing, despite his disability (blindness) which he was diagnosed when he was just twelve years old age. Flex won his first fight last night against Conner 'Buster' Collins, in case you missed it, check it out! (next page).

"How does it look?" Alex asked, standing behind Eddie as they were surrounded by the whole gym. "You're drop dead gorgeous." Johnny joked, gently pushing his shoulder. "I do try." Alex joked back. "It looks good, Alex." Andy told him. "I was kind of scared of what that girl was going to put." Alex told the room. "Alright, everyone go back to what you were doing." Eddie said, walking away from the group of men, the sound of crinkling filled Alex's ears. Eddie sighed as he walked in his office, dropping the newspaper on the desk. Alex leaned against the door frame. "I'm guessing you're not a fan of the media?" "No, never have been." Eddie fisted his hands together. "Care to explain why?" Alex asked, walking in and taking a seat. "They spread bad shit, kid." Eddie told a little too harshly, looking at him. Alex stayed silent, not knowing what to say to the man who had his own opinions. "It's not a good idea to stay in it. Just keep fighting, stay out of the media, Alex." Eddie ordered, Alex nodded.

The night came sooner than later, bright lights glowed over the roads. As three men walked the city, engaging in their conversations. "I can't believe you've never been to a bar." The tallest in the group said. "Yeah, like what do you do if you're bored?" Andy looked at Alex who walked in between the men. "Go to the gym." Johnny and his baby brother burst out in laughter, Alex chuckled, shaking his head. "We'll show you some fun, man." Andy wrapped his arm around his shoulder as they walked into a bar. "Hey! It's the Russo brother's!" The owner yelled out, slapping his hand against them. "How are ya, Tommy?" Johnny asks letting go of his hand. "Running this joint, what bout you?" "Working hard in the gym, pops is training this guy right here." Johnny pointed at Alex who stood with his hands in his pockets. "You're Alex Flex, right?" Tommy asked, before Alex could answer him Johnny interrupted him. "Oh yeah, he's a bad ass." Johnny chuckled, looking at the quiet man. "Sit, sit." Tommy told, grabbing a couple of beers for the gentlemen. "So, Alex, how'd you get into boxing?" Tommy opened his beer.

The door swung open as the three wasted men slummed out, holding onto one another. The empty sidewalk echoed with laughter as they walked. "Aannd that's how I-Johnny Russsso, lost his virginity to a worthless, cheating-ass, fuckin' bitch." Johnny slurred his words, getting angry with each word. "Ahhh, I-I'm sorry, man." Alex said, looking up at the tall guy. "Hey! Alex, my brother is a big boy, he's fine!" Andy told, his feet stumbled. "Yeaaah, I'm the biggiest, baddest boy there is!" Johnny yelled, rising his shirt sleeve up to flex his biceps. "Impressive." Alex nodded, "That ain't nothin', check this out!" Andy mimicked his brother, Johnny and Alex burst out in laughter, causing Johnny to fall onto the concrete. "Fuckin' dumb ass. You're so stupid." Andy laughed harder, holding his stomach. The three men continued to laugh as they stayed on the sidewalk, Johnny layed against the brick wall, Andy held onto a newspaper stand as he threw up. Alex struggled to stand still, his body moving back and forth, rubbing his palms on his forehead. "Look at these assholes." A voice appeared in the darkness. "Is that Flex?" Another voice said, the street light hovered over Alex as Johnny and Andy were in the dark. "What's up, cheater?" Alex squinted his eyes, focusing on the three new voices that belonged to men. "Who the fuck you callin' cheater?" Alex asked. "I am, remember me?" A face finally appear into the light. "Conner?" "Damn right." Connors's tone was forward and harsh. "How did I cheat?" Alex snarled, his nose wrinkled in anger. "Because, you're blind. People feel sorry for you, you rigged the fight somehow." "Yes, cause I have the power do so, you're fuckin' crazy." Alex scuffed, shaking his head. "What'd you call me, asshole?" Conner walked towards him, Johnny quickly stood up, Conner stopped in his track. "Get the fuck outta my way, you freak." Conner looked up from his pecks and into his face. "Nah, I'm good." Johnny snickered. "Fine." Conner attempted to push him out of his way, but failed. "Hey! Get the hell off of my brother!" Andy came out of the darkness and punched Conner in the cheekbone. "Agh! You bitch!" Conner hissed, holding his now forming bruise cheek. Conner's friend pushed Johnny out of his way as Conner walked towards Andy and began to punch him. Alex heard his groans, and reached for Conner's shirt. "Hey! Hit me, I'm the one you want!" "How about I just beat the both of you." Conner told back. Andy punched his neck, causing him to move backwards into Alex's hold. Alex jabbed him in his back, Conner yelled out. Johnny took on the two other's with ease until one of them hit his knees, his weakness. "Johnny!" Alex gasped out when the tall man went down. Conner grabbed Alex's shoulder, giving him a black eye and began to continuously hit him in the ribs. Andy took of hold of one the men's leg and dragged him on the concrete, scraping the side of his face. He then turned the hurt man on his back and broke his nose. Johnny stood up as the guy was on his shoulders, Johnny reached up, grabbing his head and slammed him into the sidewalk. Conner held onto Alex's shirt collar, while his face was covered in blood, no sound could escape his mouth. Johnny's knees stumbled, he fisted his hands, rage filled his veins. "Leave. Him. Alone." Johnny's big hand fisted around his skull, pinching his hair as he stood him up and threw Conner's body against the brick wall. Johnny picked up Alex as he struggled to breath, carrying him away from the group of men. "Come on." Johnny tapped his foot on his brother's side, making Andy stop hitting the unconsciousness man.

"Turn to the right." Flash. "Face forward." Flash. Alex let his arms fall to the side as he held onto the board, his face burned from last night's event. The jail cell opened, Johnny and Andy sat waiting for his return from the nurse. "Your face isn't that bad." Johnny comment, his face twitched as he looked at the bruises on Alex's swollen cheek. "You couldn't tell a damn thing with all that blood." Andy looked over at his brother, Alex sighed heavily as he sat down, pinching his nose. A headache from drinking was forming, getting worse by the second. It grew silent between them, the only thing you heard was phone's going off and chatters from the police officers. A familiar voice echoed through the small building, making them raise their heads. "There's my boys." Eddie raced to the cell, Johnny and Andy ran to greet him through the bars. Eddie looked at Alex who was still sitting down on the cold bench. "Come on, son." Alex raised his head up, furrowing his brows. "Let's go home." The car ride through the night was silent, street lights passing by as Eddie drove. Guilt and hopelessness filled the energy around the young men. Eddie finally broke the quiet, "I don't care who started or ended it. I'm just glad that they're not pressing charges against any of y'all." he gripped the steering wheel, looking back at his boys. "They're not?" Andy spoke up, "No." he shook his head. Johnny was dissapointed in himself, even if his father wasn't, he was. As the oldest of the group, he thought he should've been more mature about the situation. Andy was just a baby compared to Johnny and Alex, protecting his brother and best friend. Alex felt like this was the most awful thing that could've happened, especially now. The car came to a stop, Alex looked to his right, seeing the dirt road that lead to his home. The handle clicked as he got out, Eddie greeted him. Johnny and Andy watched as the two talked outside the car. "If you think that this ruined your career, it didn't." Eddie looked at the boy who had guilt written all over. "Shit like this happens, and it sucks. But, Alex, you have to be smart about it. You can't just beat up a couple of guys beside a bar." "We weren't, it was-" "Self defense I know. It's okay, I'm not mad at any of you. Just be smart, let that shit go and keep doing what you're doing, alright?" Eddie met Alex's eyes, the crickets beginning to fill the silence. "Thanks, man." Alex hugged Eddie tightly. "You bet." Eddie slapped his back before letting him go. Johnny and Andy waved a goodbye as he began to walk into the darkness.

As days, weeks and months went on. Alex fought over twelve guys, wining all of them. His fame rose to the top, everyone knew who Alex 'Daredevil' Flex was. Johnny and Andy began to also fight along side him, earning Russo's Gym more money. Richard and Monica were proud of their son as he became better and better not only as a fighter, but a person. Brady was always right there in the front row for his baby brother, constantly telling him how great of job he did. The press followed him, always asking him question where ever he went, when Alex promoted Eddie as his manager, he hired his own son to become the bodyguard for certain occasions. "What a knockout!" "Look at that jab work!" "Another win for Alex Flex." "This is Alex's fifteenth win of his career!" The red glove that held against Alex's hand, met his opponent's temple causing him to go down within seconds. The crowd stood to their feet, as the referee counted to ten, he was out. Alex raised his arms in the air, sweat droplet's fell to the ring. The corner's of his lips formed a smirk as his fans cheered him on. Johnny and Eddie pushed aside the press as they made their way to his locker room, "Not now!" Eddie's voice roars to the people before Johnny shut the door. "You did fantastic tonight, kid." Eddie told, he slick back his grey hair as he took off his beanie and sat down. Alex smiled at him as he pulled a shirt over his head, "Going to go celebrate tonight at Tommy's." Alex offered. "Ah, no. I think I'm just gonna head home, don't drink too much, gotta train tomorrow." Eddie said standing up, "Come on, Russo. You never want to hang unless it's at the gym, which is not hanging out by the way." Alex pointed, chuckling. "Alright, fine-" The door opened which caught their attention, "Sorry to intrude." a voice said. "CeCe?" Alex furrowed his brows, questioning the girly voice. "Hi, how you doing?" She smiled, tucking her things under her arm. "I'm good." Alex shook his head, hands resting on a chair. "That's good." Eddie crossed his arms together once again, not liking where this was going. "May I ask what you're doing here?" Eddie asked politely-which was hard for him. "I wanted to write about you in the newspaper for tomorrow." "Again?" Alex asked, "Well you've grown a lot since I last talked to you, you're practically famous now." CeCe chuckles, Alex liked the word famous beside his name. "Sure." He agreed, Eddie stuck out his watch, "If we wanna make those reservations, we better leave now." "Oh shit, yeah." Alex gasped lightly, "Hey, why don't you come with?" CeCe looked up, "Oh no, I don't want to bother your party." "No, it'll be fun. The more the merrier." Alex smiles. The bar was filled with loud music, chatters, tv and bottles clinking together as the night was about celebration. Friends and family cheered on Alex as he walked into the small building, his back was tapped with pats for his success. "Good job, buddy!" "Hey, way to go brother." "Here's the real champ." Alex smiled as he walked down the aisle, nice encouraging words filled his ears, something he earned for. "Thanks, everybody." Alex nods to the people he was close to, "First round is on me, fighter." Tommy told, wiping the clean mug with his rag. "Wow, it's nice to be famous." Alex chuckled, taking his first swig of beer. "Can I have a hug or are ya too famous for ya brother?" Brady laughed, coming up behind him, "Ah, shit. Come here." Alex gripped onto his brother. "You did good, A. I'm proud of you." Brady told, rubbing his dirty blonde hair before he pulled away. "Thanks, B. Thank you for always being there for me, couldn't have done it without you." Brady smiled at his brother, his faded green eyes sparkled for once. Brady knew he was happy, it was a long time coming for the young man. "No problem." "Have time for the little people?" Monica asks, "Get over here, ma." Alex kissed her hair. Monica looked up at her youngest son, it almost made her eyes well up with tears as happy he seemed with his life. It was dawning on her that, if she never let him be who he is truly supposed to be, it'd killed her with the guilt it would've caused. "I love you, baby." "Love you too, mama." Alex smiled down at her before hearing his father's grunt. "Couldn't be more proud of you, Alex." Richard squeezed Alex's shoulder, "Keep up the good work, alright?" "Will do, pop." Alex nodded. "Now is it my turn?" CeCe giggled, raising her eyebrow at the man sitting at the bar. "Ah, I'm sorry." Alex sighed, "I'm all ears." he smiled. CeCe took a seat beside him, taking out her notepad and pen. "And that's how my brother and I fell into the pond and wrestle a bass, gotta scar to prove it." Alex smirked, quickly laughing along with CeCe. "Wow, I didn't know you used to wrestle." She said, sipping on her water, Alex chuckled before finishing his beer. CeCe silently sighed to herself as she counted the seventh bottle, not including the shots of tequila that was on the house. His hand going up once again, ordering another one. "You like to drink don't ya?" Her face was questioning, she was glad he couldn't read her mind. "Nah, I'm just celebrating that's all." Alex shook his head at her before taking a swig. "Yeah, I know Tony, we were just talking about that yesterday." "Now, don't get me wrong, Wayne. Alex Flex is a great fighter, but up against Jake Hammer? Guy doesn't stand a chance." Alex furrowed his brows as he listened to the voices, he turned his head to the right. "Turn that up would ya?" Tommy pressed the button, turning up the volume on the t.v. "I have to agree with you there, I mean they don't call him 'Shatterproof' for nothing." Alex snarled at the laughter that filled the air, the alcohol pumping through his veins. Alex looked down at the counter, his grip on the glass became tighter and tighter until it broke. "Whoa!" Tommy's eyes grew and started to clean up the mess, Alex didn't apologize as his anger worsen. "Jake is a monster, I mean take a look at this knockout!" "And that was only in round one!" "Alex Flex is nothing compared to this man." The chair squeaked back, causing the room to become quiet. Alex craned his neck to the t.v that hung on the wall, listening. "I can take on that guy no problem!" Alex yelled, chatters filled the tension. "I ain't nothing!" His voice rose more with anger, "I'm Alex Flex, I can fight whoever the fuck I want!" Johnny touched his tense shoulder, Alex swatted at it. "Don't touch me!" Alex looked behind him, the stares he got didn't phase him nor did the whispers. The angry man turned his attention back to the screen, gripping the edge of the counter top with his fists. "Jake's score is twenty four, with no loses! Can you believe that?" "Could you turn that off?" Eddie asked, leaning over the bar. Alex pushed himself off the counter in quick motion, his footsteps slammed against the hardwood floor. "No, No. Don't turn that off!" Alex roared, "Come on, turn it back on." "I'm sorry-" "NOW!" Alex pointed, making everyone in the room shake in fear of the what to be appear a drunken-angry boxer. "Let's go, Alex." Eddie told in a soft voice, careful not to tip him off any more. "I'm good, I'm good." Alex grunted through his teeth, walking back to his seat by CeCe who was wide eyed about the scene. The room watched as he hung his head, holding himself against the bar. Music continued on, people went back to socializing and drinking. Alex muted everything around him, his knuckles were white, the words spun around his brain like a merry-go-round. Alex squinted his eyes shut as it kept going, he felt a hand on his forearm, he flinched at it, causing CeCe to gasp at his reaction. Alex's fingers gripped what was closes, he smashed the black bar stool into pieces. "Fuck you! Fuck all of you sorry sons of bitches!" Alex spat at ceiling, Johnny and Andy got a hold of his arms, Eddie sighed at what was unfolding. "Let go!" "Calm down." Johnny tried, struggling to stay still with his moving arms. "Don't mess with me!" Alex got out of the strong hold and pushed the tall man away. "Come on, man. Don't be like this." Andy voice was worried, "What? I like who I am. I'm Alex Fucking Flex! Who the fuck are you?" Alex spat. "Hey!" Eddie's voiced roared, causing to Alex look behind him. "Don't talk to anyone like that, you hear?" Alex chuckled, his breath hitched. "What do you know, old man?" "What do I know?" Eddie laughed under his breath, walking closer to the man. "I know that you don't have a manager anymore, boy." Alex glared at Eddie as he passed him, "Fine, go! I don't need you! I don't need anybody!" Alex screamed. A hand grabbed a hold of Alex's collar, pulling him out of the bar and into the night. "Hey! Get yo-" Alex gasp as a hand met his sore cheek, he hissed at the sudden pain. "Have you lost your damn mind?" Alex closed his eyes as his mother's words, Brady's grip loosen as he seemed to calm down. "What is wrong with you Alex? What happened? Tonight's was supposed to be about you celebrating for becoming a professional boxer, not about you becoming the world's biggest jerk." Monica yelled, her words piercing his body like if he was in the ring. Alex lifted his head, Brady looked at his brother, his eyes read anger and disappointment like his mother's. "They were talking shit on my name." Alex spoke softly, his hands finding the pockets of his jeans. "And is that true? All those words true about you? No they're not, if you keep this act up, it will be true, you will be nothing. I agreed to you fighting and winning. I didn't agree for you to let that fame get inside your brain and make you cocky. You need to get your head straight, Alex. Stop acting like a damn child who doesn't like what a couple guys say about him." Alex sighed heavily, Monica crossed her arms and walked closer to him. "You know, Alex. I can't tell you what to do, or even what to say. You're a grown man who should know the right's and wrong's about this world. You wanna fight? Fine go ahead, I'm right there with you. You wanna act like a cocky, arrogant, always angry drunk? Go ahead, but you're gonna have to do it without me." Alex felt a breeze as she passed him and into the bar, Brady looked at Alex as he seemed feeling aside from himself. Alex heard his heavy boots scrape the concrete, "I don't know what's going inside that brain of yours." Alex scuff, chuckling. "Brady, you don't what it's like to be in my shoes. You don't know what it's like to win." Alex snarled at him, his nose wrinkling in anger, they shared a look, the mixture of worried and hurt filled Brady's eyes. "No, Alex, I don't. But, I do know what it's like to lose somebody who is so lost that he doesn't even know who he is anymore." Brady took one last look at his little brother before disappearing in the night.

The locker room felt colder than usual, there wasn't any jokes or advice being thrown at him to make the fight easier. No arm to hang onto as they walked in the spotlight, no one to call him 'kid' or 'son'. Alex struggled to tighten his own gloves on, his teeth gripping the tape around his palm. The world didn't seem to bother him at the moment, his mind was clouded with one thought and one thought only. It wasn't his parents, Eddie, the girl he struggled to remember her name, his best friends or his brother. Alex was determined, had a drive to do this one task and he wanted the whole world to see it too. Put it in the books, newspaper, take your pictures, ask your questions, but just please watch me do this one thing and it'll all be okay. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen, it's time for what you all have been waiting for. Alex 'Daredevil' Flex against Jake 'Shatterproof' Hammer." Jerry Kline told the crowd through the microphone. "It should be great one, Fred." Richard frowned at the screen in front of him, he looked to his right, seeing Monica practically beg through the t.v for Alex to stop with her eyes. Richard's hand landed on hers, "You've done all you could." he kissed her temple. "Here comes the champ of twenty four wins with no loses, Jake Hammer!" "I'll say, Jerry. This guy is a beast!" "That he is, Fred, that he is." Johnny flipped through the channels, as Andy sat next to him. Eddie grunted when he sat down in his chair, Johnny looked at his father, who hasn't talked much to him since the night everyone departed. Andy barely spoke a word, unless it was about Alex or the night, or both. Johnny stayed strong for his dad and brother, he was the glue that held them together, much like his mother did. "Leave it." Johnny's finger hovered over the button, he watched as Eddie sat up from his recliner to watch the young boy he trained. Jake cracked his neck as he stood in the ring, his dark eyes looking over the crowd, his black attire flowed as he bounced on his feet. The music stopped as it skipped to the next. Half of the stadium began to cheer him on as he entered the room. "Here comes, Alex Flex. It appears that he doesn't have his manager Eddie Russo with him." "He sure doesn't, hopefully it doesn't effect his fighting." The dark room was lit by the colors of the t.v screen, the leather couch glowed by the light. The sound of a dog barking echoed through the apartment, "Agh! I'm coming." Brady grunted in the kitchen and sprinted to the living room. "I didn't miss anything, did I Rex?" Brady pet the black Great Dane as he sat beside the massive dog. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I'm your announcer, Ralph Fletcher. On my right stands a two-hundred-fifteen pound, six-four, Jake 'Shatterproof' Hammer!" "And, weighing at one-hundred-fifty pounds, six-one, Alex 'Daredevil' Flex!" Johnny and Andy's nails were in their mouths, nerves chomping away. Eddie mumbled words to himself about how crazy Alex was. "Touch gloves and back away." Jake smirked down at Alex, pushing down his red gloves harshly. "Good luck, blindy." He laughed as he began to walk away, Alex grabbed a hold of his shoulder, but Jake pushed him back causing him to fall. "What was that?" Richard leaned forward watching as the referee tried to break the two up before the bell rung. Monica sighed, shaking her head. "Break apart!" "What's wrong Alex? You getting worried? Trying to catch me off guard?" "Man, fuck you." Alex spat in his face. "Round one hasn't even started and the men are already going at each other's throats." Jerry told, looking over at the ring that was filled with people trying to separate the boxers. Eddie groaned, his head falling into his hands. Johnny's eyes went to the screen to his father, knowing there was no words to say to make it okay. "Alright. You calm? You calm? You two good now? Save it for the fight, boys." The referee said, the end of each hand touching the air between the fighter's chest. The bell rung. "Fight." Alex lifted his shoulders, his gloves hovering over his chest, listening to the sounds Jake made with his feet. "You're going down, chump." Jake told before hitting Alex in the eyelid, Alex hissed at the pain, looking up at him. Alex darted at giant, Jake slid to his right, dodging Alex's body. The crowd boo'ed the two fighters, Alex adjusted himself, stretching out his arms before circling around the ring. "Why isn't he doing anything I've told him? Haven't you learned anything I taught you?" Eddie told Alex through the t.v, he folded his sweaty hands as he study his movements. Jake pounced on his heels, jabbing a hard hit against Alex's forehead. Alex's feet stumbled underneath him, causing him to lose balance and fall. "Man, give me a challenge!" Jake shouted, his body shadowed over him, Alex grunted as he struggled to stand. Jake chuckled to himself as put his hands on his hips, Alex swayed his body, "Come on, hit me." his mouth guard showed. "Don't mind if I do." Jake sprinted to the hurt man, Alex gave him his own medicine and dodged it. "Nice one, A." Brady shook his head, he rested his chin on his knuckles. The light glowed on his worried face as he watched the boxer's continue to hit one another til the bell rung. "Wow, that is the end of round one, ladies and gentlemen. What a sight to see with these two." Jerry's voice echoed the building, watching them go to their own corner's. Jake's manager talked into his ear as his crew indeed to his one cut. Alex bowed his head when he stood back facing to the opponents, his arms dangling on the rope. "Come on, just let it go, Alex." Monica whispered to herself, twirling the necklace the wrapped around her neck as nerves settled in. The bell rung in Alex's ears, he slowly turned around, hearing Jake's unstoppable feet. Alex furrowed his brows as he tried to mute the sounds around him, voices began to fill his mind with words. "You are nothing!" "This guy has no chance." "You're gonna have to do it without me." Jake watched as Alex's face read confusion, his gloves reaching for his ears. "Shut up." Alex told himself, Jake looked around him, wondering. He shook it off and made the perfect opportunity to punch Alex, multiple times in the ribs. Alex held up his forearm in defense as Jake jabbed him, Alex yelled in pain and caught onto Jake's arms. "Get the fuck off of me!" Jake pushed off of him, and punch him in cheekbone. "I'm not your manager anymore, boy." "Don't be like this." "Alex, calm down." Alex raised his body up as his skin was pulsing, he could feel blood dripping down his face. Sweat poured from his hair, he could see Jake's form from the bright light. Alex's left eye was swollen shut, his chest rising as he struggled to breath from the hit in his lung. Jake was forming a jab, until the bell went off and the referee saved Alex. "Man, that was a close one!" "I'm not sure how long Flex can last, Fred." "I really hope this ends soon, it's a bloodbath." Alex's knees hit the floor as he lost control, he gripped the red rope in between his glove. Blood, sweat and tears running down his swollen face, his breathing was abnormal and his legs wobbled against him. Alex silenced a whimpered, the stadium was too loud to hear Alex's cry. "Let it go, baby. You don't have to prove anybody." Monica whispered, her palms touching as she looked up at the ceiling. Richard placed a warm hand on her thigh, rubbing it gently before kissing her head. Jake punched his black gloves together as the bell for the third round to began. Alex used to the ropes to lift himself off the ground, his face covered in cuts and bruises. "Don't do it, Alex." Brady begged, Rex moved his elbow from underneath him. "It's okay, Rex. My brother has to find who he is, even if it means losing everything he's got." Brady brushed the dog's head with his fingertips. "Round three." "Fight." Jake's dark eyes never left Alex's green ones, his body swaying as Jake danced around the young man. "Put em' up, Flex." Jake told him, Alex looked at nothing, but forward. Jake landed a hit on his shoulder, "I'm right here, let's go." Jake screamed at him. "What's he doing?" Andy's voice was filled with worried as he watched Alex stand there, Johnny hung his head as he already knew. "He's giving up." Eddie whispered. A moan left Alex's throat as Jake earned a hit to his ribs, Alex held onto his body. The world became silent, no audible could be heard from Alex. Jake's hot breath didn't phase Alex as he screamed in his face, blood and saliva left Alex's mouth causing his mouth piece to fall to the floor. Alex's feet stood still when he came back up, Jake closed his eyes, with full force and power he landed his last hit on Alex. "Oh, my god." Monica gasps loudly, covering her mouth. "Alex!" Johnny and Andy yelled at the screen. "Shit!" Brady ran a hand through his beard. Alex's body completely stood still, his unconsciousness body fell hard and fast onto the ring, causing a loud thud through the stadium.

The flowers brought life to the cold hospital room, machine's beeped continuously throughout the weeks. Alex's plum colored face stung when he would wake up from the nightmares, sweat poured down as his chest rose and fell. The i.v was cold, but the loneliness was far much colder. Alex listened to the rumbling of the nasty weather that would flicker through the small window. No familiar face will show in his room, only the nurses and doctors that checked in every now and then. Tears filled his swollen black eyes, soaking the blanket that laid across his bruised body. Voices from the television was background noise for whenever his past flashed in his thoughts. Alex's knuckles cracked as he down the painkillers, chasing it with water, his throat was hot and course. Three weeks felt longer than any fight, than any conversation, longer than those long days with the eye doctor.

The gown was untied as he sat up on the bed, cracking his neck before standing to his week feet. A plaid shirt pushed back his blonde locks, he winched as it stung his still healing face. Alex hung his head, yellow and purple decorated his rib when he buttoned the shirt. Alex stood up fully clothed, a heavy sighed escaped his lips before walking out of the room. The sun warmed his cold, stiff body when he walked outside, the familiar sounds and smells surrounded him. Alex's hand found his pockets and started to walk on the sidewalk. A yellow cab eased the brake as it came to a stop, his finger left his lip and fell onto his thigh. "Here's your stop." The man told, he fiddle with his jeans before the man spoke again. "No need to pay, it's an honor, Mr. Flex." A frown turned into a quick small smile, the car drove off, leaving Alex standing in front of a tall building. The sound of a dog barking, echoed through the apartment. "What is it Rex?" Brady questioned the dog that stood in the kitchen. Rex's deep bark rumbled as another knock at the door filled his ears. Brady's furrowed expression soon fell when he came face to face with his brother. "Alex?" Brady's green orbs danced on his unrecognizable body, "Hey, Brady." his voice croaked as he hasn't spoken much. A scruffy face Alex entered the apartment, he flinched at Rex's barking. "Hey, Shh." Brady assured the animal, "You got a dog?" the older sibling looked at him, his voice made his throat hurt. "Yeah, his name is Rex." "That's cool, I'm happy for you." Brady sighed as he looked down at his pet, "What are you doing here, Alex?" his swollen eyes met the green ones a few feet away. "Came here for no judgement." Brady licked his lips before crossing his arms, and shook his head. "How long have you've been out of the hospital?" Brady asked, leaning against the white counter top. "How'd you know I was in the hospital?" Brady scuff at the man who stood with his hands in his pockets. "Did you see the fight? Have you seen yourself?" "Is that supposed to be a joke?" "No! Alex, it's not." Brady told, he sighed and crossed his arms, "I came and visited you." he mumbled loud enough for Alex to hear. "I'm sorry." Alex started, "I'm sorry for everything I've done wrong." Brady darted his eyes to his. "Don't give me that guilt trip bullshit." Brady shook his head, "I'm not! I came looking for help and I found you!" Alex shouted through the stinging tears. "I am sorry for everything. I'm sorry for losing that damn fight, for being a dick at the bar, for going off on you and mom. I'm sorry if I ever let you down, Brady. I-I'm sorry for being a damn burden on you guys." Alex struggled as a sob was forming. "Hey. Hey." Brady walked towards his brother, Alex collapsed into his arms as they fell to the floor. "Hey, it's okay." Brady hushed him, "I-I'm s-sorry for losing m-myself." Brady closed his eyes as the harsh words slipped out of his mouth. "It's okay, A. I have you."

The light of the t.v over took the darkness of the apartment, soft voices that came from the show that glowed on Alex's tired body. Brady leaned up against the frame, watching over his slumber. The steel toed boots lightly tapped on the wooden flooring, Brady ducked down his head. "You're never a burden to me." His whisper lingered as Brady and Rex made their way to the bedroom. Brady ran a hand through his beard as his grey sweatpants swept the dark hallway, the morning light warmed the air through the sheer curtains. Brady looked at the couch, he furrowed his brows as it was empty. "A?" He called out, his eyes went to the bathroom, no sign of him. A paper laid on the coffee table between the t.v and leather couch, it crinkled as he picked it up. "Morning, Brady. Sorry for ditching early, need to take care of some more things. I wanted to thank you for always taking care of me and never judging me for anything. I'm glad you're my brother, I love you." Brady smiled at the note, "Love you too, buddy."

The gym stood quiet as Eddie swept the concrete, sipping on his third cup of coffee to help him clean in the early morning. A slam of the front door echoed the small building, "We're closed." Eddie told as he wiped the board. When he got no response, he grumbled and put the eraser down. "What are you deaf? I said we're clos-" Eddie turned his attention around. "No, but I am blind." "Alex?" Eddie squinted at the figure in the sunlight. "Hey." Alex softly spoke, "Like I said, we're closed." he repeated himself as he walked passed him and into the office. "I came to talk to you." Alex followed him, "My ears have suddenly became closed too." Eddie grunted as he sat. "Come on, man. Don't be like this." Eddie shot Alex look, "Funny, my son said the exact same thing to you before you left us." "Left you? You left me." Alex shot back. "What did you just say? If I recall, you were so lost in yourself that you forgot who was really there for you." "Mr. I am Alex Fucking Flex." Eddie added, grumbling as he flipped through the paper. Alex sighed, hanging his head. "Look, Eddie. I'm sorry for being selfish, I had no right to be an asshole to my manager or my friends. I wasn't thinking, but I am now. I'm the same old Alex you once knew." Eddie looked up and down at him. "Damn, son. He really did a number on you." Alex shook his head, "I just wanted to say how sorry I am, man." "It's alright. It takes a man to own up for his mistakes. I'm proud of you." Alex smiled, "Okay, well. I gotta go own up to my mistakes to a couple other people." he sighed headed for the door. "Good luck, kid." The bell rung throughout the building as Alex entered. Sounds of keyboards clicking, people chattering and paper being printed. "Can I help you?" a voice asked, the person gasped as Alex turned his head. "Oh, my goodness. Sir, are you okay?" Alex furrowed his brows at the lady, "I'm fine, ma'am. I'm actually looking for someone." the lady nodded, she ducked her forward, wondering why he stopped speaking. "Continue." She told, "Oh, her name is CeCe Stewart." "That will be down the hall, last room to your right." Alex coughed nervously, "Could you guide me there? I-I'm." Alex pointed at his eyes. "Oh, of course." Alex followed the sounds of her heels click on the floor, "Here you are." "Thanks." Alex hummed. "Oh, might want to go to a doctor, get those eyes checked out." Alex chuckled, nodding his head. "Will do, ma'am." Alex leaned up against the frame of the room, hearing a keyboard being typed on. "Yes?" CeCe asked the figure she saw standing in the corner of her eye. "Hello, my name is Bob and I have a friend, who says he would like a story made about him in the newspaper." CeCe stopped her typing, and grabbed a pen. "Okay, what would he want?" "He says, he's really sorry for making a fool of himself in front of a beautiful girl he wanted to get to know, but he feels like he blew it and thinks she doesn't want to speak to him ever again." CeCe furrowed her brows, dropping her pen before standing, "I'm sorry, who are you again-" CeCe covered her mouth with her hands. "Alex." She breathed out, "Are you okay?" her hand reached for his face, but she remembered and pulled away. "I meant what I said. I'm sorry, CeCe." Alex stood straight, her lips departed, "Don't worry about, Alex. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, you know.. after the fight and all." Alex sighed. "I made a huge mistake, everything I've done. I feel like I really blew it with everybody. CeCe, I just want you to know that I'm not an jerk, I was drunk-and that's no excuse. I've changed, I'm not like that anymore." CeCe smiled at him, "You're a good man, Alex. Don't be so hard on yourself. I think us normal people understand, and it's okay." "Really?" "Really." Alex sighed in relief. "So, does this mean you'll give me another chance?" "You're way too cute not too." Alex stood in front of his childhood home, everything felt like it used to, the summer breeze when they would play, the smell of fresh cut grass that Richard did earlier. Alex went up the steps that was connected to the two-story house. Alex stretched his hand out and felt the wooden door, he made a fist, but before he could knock, it opened. "Alex." Richard spoke, he looked up and down at his son. "Hey, dad." Alex looked up, "Come here, son." Richard engulfed him in a hug. "Who was at the door, honey?" Alex pulled away, Monica gasped out. "Ma-" Monica didn't care that he hissed at the pain when she hugged him tightly. "I came to say I'm sorry." Alex's chin rested on her shoulder. "I'm sorry for being a horrible son and going off on you guys." Monica pulled his shoulders off, "You're not a horrible son, Alex. You just got away from yourself and us." "I don't want you to say that because I look like this, I know what I did was wrong, don't feel sorry for me." Alex pointed at his face, Monica eyes watered at the sight of the bruises, cuts and bandages. "It's okay, son. We are all human." Richard squeezed his shoulder, "We're just happy you're okay." Monica added. "Thanks guys." "We love you." "Love you guys too." Alex chuckled for the first time as they all three hugged.

Lighting strike through the grey clouds with thunder rumbling the ground. The wind blew the door shut behind Alex as he entered the gym. It wasn't silent, the old sounds he used to hear everyday was once heard again. Alex cracked his knuckles, his feet glued to the floor, inhaling and exhaling before punching the bag. Eddie entered the room, hearing the grunts that left his mouth. Alex continued his moves, his kicks and jabs like it never left. Eddie would have to lie, if he didn't say he missed it. Alex pulled away from the punching bag, "I would understand if you said, you don't want to be my manager." Alex lifted his head at the man, "I didn't say anything." Eddie shook his head. Alex turned his attention back the bag and continued on. Johnny and Andy came rushing in from the weather, "Well, so much for running." Johnny gasped for air as he was bent over. "Yeah, totally." Andy agreed, rising up from the floor. Alex's eyes met Andy's for a brief moment. "Alex!" Andy rushed over at the man working out, "What?" Johnny exhaled before seeing his best friend. "I'm so-" "Shut up, man." Andy hugged him, Alex sighed, gripping his back. Johnny waited until his brother pulled away, Alex looked up. "I would hit you for being a dick, but looks like Jake already did that." "I deserve that." Alex nodded in agreement, he grunted when Johnny engulfed him in a hug. "Ain't this a sight to see?" Eddie smiled at the trio, "Good to have you back, son." Alex shook his hand. "Hey! Guys, might want to hear this." Jason spoke up as he turned the t.v up. "We actually have Jake 'Shatterproof' Hammer with us. How's it going, Jake? Welcome to the show." Tony looked over at Jake sitting beside him. "I'm awesome, thanks for having me." "It's an honor. So, question. I understand a lot of people of been asking you to do a rematch with Alex Flex. What's your thoughts on that?" "Well, Tony. I'm all for winning yet again, so, yeah." Jake chuckled. "Great, that's great news. I just hope Flex is ready for you, if not, he better start training." "Ain't no training gonna save him, sir. You can train all day and night, but that doesn't matter once you're in the ring, all you gotta do it beat the other guy. That's all that matters." "I can agree with you there, Jake. Alright, we'll go more in depth of Jake 'Shatterproof' Hammer's career after the break." Eddie, Johnny and Andy watched as Alex listened to the show, no anger was shown across his face. "You okay?" Eddie asked as he turned his body towards the three men. "Yeah, why?" "They were talking about you, Alex." Andy told, "Yeah, and I can't change that can I?" Alex moved away from them. "You're going to change everything, son." Eddie walked up behind Alex as he dug into his bag, "How?" he turned around. "You saw what he did to me the first time, Eddie." "I can't let that happen again." Alex shook his head, passing him. "It's not going to happen again." "How?" "Because I'm going to train you and you will win this fight." Alex stopped in his tracks, his lips parted as he thought before turning around. "What do you say, Alex? Move pass this or, train harder than you have before and make history by defeating him?" "Come on let's go! Keep it up! Keep it up!" Eddie shouted, watching Alex whip the ropes in his palms. "One more mile. One more mile." Johnny exhaled looking down at his watch. "I wanna see more sweat!" Andy laughed as he jumped rope, watching as Alex picked up his pace. "Push! Push! Push!" Alex grunted at the wagon he was pushing with the two young men who sat comfortably encouraging on. "Wow! Just look at the left hook by Jake Hammer." "It's his twenty-eighth win!" "Unbelievable!" "Come on, son." Eddie rubbed Alex's head as he listened to the t.v in the gym, Alex sighed and continued to punch the bag as hard as he could. "Alex, come on! My wife could lift more!" Eddie roared, sweat beads were a waterfall on Alex's face as he struggled to lift the weight over his head. Two-forty he lifted, "Agh!" Alex grunted out as he droped the bar. "That's what I'm talkin' bout!" Johnny slapped a hand onto his, Eddie nodded. "Good job, kid." The birds chirped on the thin tree limb that was rooted in the parks ground. Warm summer sun shined down on the picnic that was layed out on the green grass, the two rested their hands on their stomachs as they enjoyed the peace and quiet. CeCe let out a breath and opened her eyes at the blue sky. "Alex?" Her voice was a whisper, not wanting to bother the man who seemed relax. "Hmm?" "Do you remember what the colors looked liked?" CeCe furrowed her brows at the question she asked, feeling a little dumb for letting it slip through her lips. "What do you mean?" CeCe switched her position to her side, so she could look at him. "Like, do you remember what the colors of the rainbow looked like?" Alex grunted as he rolled on his side, ribs still sore. "No, why don't you tell me?" Alex breathed out, his green eyes shined just right from the sunlight blaring on his skin. CeCe propped up her elbow, resting her head on the palm of her hand before speaking. "They put my hands in their pool. They told me that sensation I felt while swimming, the omnipresent coolness, that's blue. Blue feels like relaxation." Alex smiled, "Kinda like now." CeCe hummed in response. "What about red?" "They had me stand outside in the sun. They told me that the heat I was feeling is red. They explained that red is the color of a burn, from heat, embarrassment, or even anger." CeCe looked at Alex, noticing his eyes were on the plaid blanket underneath them, his hands fiddling with it. "I feel like that way during a fight." CeCe sat up and looked down at him, his blonde lock's gently flowing in the wind. "You ready for your big fight tomorrow?" "I can't answer that right now, CeCe." Alex focused on the feeling of grass between his fingers. "Well, no matter happens, you did your best. It takes a man to get back in the ring with another man he once almost lost his life to." Alex nodded, lifting his head up. "You're an amazing guy, Alex." "I'm who I am because of the people I surround myself with." Alex and CeCe smile. "What's your favorite color?" CeCe exhaled deeply, taking in the sent of the fresh air around them. "I held soft leaves and wet grass. They told me green felt like life. To this day it is still very much my favorite color." "I'm startin' to think green is my favorite now." Alex chuckles, "Oh, yeah?" "Yeah." he hummed in agreement, letting CeCe rest her head on his chest. "It sure is."

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I'm your host, Fred Coan." "I'm the co-host, Jerry Kline, we have yet another amazing fight tonight, don't we?" "Yes we do, Jerry. Jake 'Shatterproof' Hammer will be fighting-again Alex 'Daredevil' Flex. We all remember that one, don't we?" "I'm afraid we do, it was a obscure scene for sure, I don't think Alex got more than a hit on the guy." "I don't think he did either, hopefully that'll change tonight as Alex's manager, Eddie Russo has been training him hard for weeks on end." "We shall see, Jerry." The stadium that held over three thousands fans listened as the two men in suits spoke, spotlights dancing around, waiting for the boxers to make their entrance. "How's the knuckles?" Eddie asked as he wrapped the gaze around his palm, his bones cracked as he flexed them. "Still a little out of place, I'll say." Alex started down at his hands, listening to the press talk outside the door as it opened. "Hey, honey." "Mama." Alex looked up, hearing his mother's voice, "We want to wish you good luck, tonight." Alex snickered. "You beat that son of bitch, you hear?" Monica slapped Richard's shoulder, "Good luck, son." his father tapped on his back. Alex listened to his mother's unsteady breathing, her heart was beating faster than usual. "You don't have to be scared, ma." Alex shook his head, "I'm not scared, darling." "I can hear you heart." Monica sighed, her hand met her head. "I could never lie to you." Alex's lip curved into a smile, "I'll be alright." her arms wrapped his neck as he clutched onto her. "I love you, ma." "I know." The door handle creaked open, heavy steel toe boots hitting the floor. "I wasn't invited to the party?" Brady chuckled, "Hey, B." Alex lifted his chin. "Come on, hands up." Eddie told, slipping on the red gloves. "Ready?" The arena could be heard through the thick white wall, "I think they're more ready than I am." Alex chuckled. "Let's win this fight." Eddie told, Alex stood. "Wait." CeCe spoke up from the corner next to Johnny and Andy, she lifted her camera. "I need a picture to put in the paper." "Oh, yeah." Alex nodded, he gaze around the room before standing in front of the camera. CeCe squinted her eye, "Hang on." Alex lifted his glove up and turned around. "I want everybody." The room shared a look with each other and gathered around the man in the middle. "That means you too, C." Alex told, "What? But who's-" "Come on, babe. I can't be late to my own fight." he groaned in laughter. "Okay, okay." CeCe giggled turning on the timer and ran to a spot. Flash.

The hard metal blared throughout the crowd's ears, golden spotlight shadowed over the tall man. He lifted his black gloves in the air, a hard stare laid across his face. "Jake 'Shatterproof' Hammer, everyone. A man who holds the record of twenty-eight straight wins and no loses." Fred told, watching the man jog up the steps to enter the ring. "That's incredible for a guy his age, only twenty-one and already at the top of the list? Just wow." Jerry shook his head in disbielf as he looked down at the card. "Flex. Flex. Flex." The crowd cheered. "The fans are ready to see Alex, aren't they?" "I think see him coming out, Fred." "How about that? Alex is coming out with his whole crew, what a special moment for the family." Alex smiled at his mother who held him close, "I love you, Alex." "I know." he kissed her temple. "You fight with your heart." CeCe told, holding onto his right arm, Alex looked at her with every emotion, like she was the world in front of him and he wanted it-no, he needed it. "What?" She furrowed her brows as he continued to stare, "I..I." he jumped when Eddie slapped his shoulder. "Let's go." Monica and CeCe untangled their arms from him and walked to their seats. "Alex." Brady spoke up behind him, "Yeah?" the hot light took it's place on the brother's as they stood in front of each other. "I want to tell you somethin' that helps me. I'm passing it over to you, okay? Remain calm in every situation because peace equals power, you understand? Because at the end of the day, he's just a man. He will fail. You will make sure of that. As your brother, I will always be there. I'm right here. Now, put this motherfucker to the ground where he belongs."

Eddie, Johnny and Andy stood behind Alex in the ring, watching closely as Jake eyed the four men, humor was written all over his face. Alex felt a new presence enter the ring, the microphone rung in his ears before he spoke. "Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for attending tonight's fight, I'm your announcer, Ralph Fletcher. On my left, weighing at two hundred twenty pounds, he's an ultimate medium weight championship in the world, Jake 'Shatterproof' Hammer!" Alex snickered as the crowd roared for the opponents who jumped for the attention. "One my right, weighing at one hundred forty pounds, coming back for a rematch, Alex 'Daredevil' Flex!" "Go Alex!" "You got this, babe!" "Let's go, A!" "Kick his ass, Alex!" Alex focused on the encouraging words from his family, he smiled as Eddie raised his arm up. "Let's get ready to rumble!" "Alright, men, welcome back. You know the rules, no low blows or rabbit punches, we need a clean fight. You ready?" "Always." Jake instantly replied. "You ready?" "Yeah." Alex nodded slowly. "Touch gloves and get in your corner's." The referee ordered, Jake's stare never left the smaller man as they both walked backwards to their spots. "You remember all your training? Take is easy, no rush, alright? We have fifteen rounds, you got plenty of time to take him down. Use it wisely." Sweat blared off his body as the spotlight made his body hot, Alex nodded to his manager before hearing that familiar sound. Ding, Ding. "Fight." Alex could feel the rumbling of Jake's feet that bounced continuously just a few feet away from him, Alex squared up as he walked forward. "You ready for another beating?" Jake mocked, tapping his gloves together. "Obviously you didn't finished the job." Alex jabbed back, "Ha, you got a mouth on you boy." "Come shut it, champ." Jake grunted under his breath and darted to him, raising his glove. Alex ducked and landed a hit on his ribs, hearing the audience's reaction and Jake's low groan. Alex's feet slide across the smooth surface, Jake's feet slapped against it, anger was behind it as he walked in circles with him. "Stop running and start hitting, Hammer!" Jake's manager yelled, Jake got closer, costing Alex to become distracted and earn a hit on the eyelid. Alex hissed at the pain, he jabbed his right arm in the air, but Jake was too quick and punched the no longer existing bruise on his rib. "Agh." Alex yelled out, shutting his eyes tightly as he belched over. Ding, Ding. "Open." Johnny ordered, pouring water in his mouth as Andy got to work on the bleeding cut. "You know what you did wrong, son?" Alex nodded, grunting his teeth together. "Don't focus on anything else, but his voice you're excellent at that. Listen to the sound of his feet, follow where he leads." "Round two." Jake stood up in a quick motion, running over to Alex and hitting him in the nose, "You should've stayed home." he whispered. Alex roughly pushed his shoulders, blood dripping down his lips. "Fuck this, shit." Alex snarled, his feet slapped against the ring as he took off running, Jake quickly dodged and Alex stopped in his tracks and got a hold of his arm. Alex wrapped his legs around his waist as he tackled him to the ground. "You fuckin' bitch!" Jake's shoulder was pulsing when he landed on it, he pounded on the ring and elbowed Alex's face, causing him to fall back. "Get up, get up!" Eddie roared, Alex spit the blood out of mouth, feeling Jake hovering him. "It's over, Fle-Agh!" Jake yelled out, grabbing a hold of his knee, "No, it's just beginning." Alex jabbed a hard hit onto his cheekbone. A frustrated grunt escaped Jake's throat as the bell rung. "Great work." Eddie rubbed his head. "That's the first time I've seen him hurt." Andy told, watching Jake's crew tend to his body. "You got him where you need him to be." Eddie nodded. Ding, Ding. Alex tapped his red gloves, cracking his neck before walking in the middle. He relaxed his body, closing his eyes and listened to the sounds, but it never came. Alex furrowed his brows, arms dangling on his side as the confusion grew. Jake's eyes watched his own feet, sliding ever so soundlessly, he looked up seeing Alex's back. A gasp left his throat, black material touching the tender spot he just hit, knees made an echoed sound as they fell. No sort of emotion could be let out, the sudden pain was far too loud. "Oh, my god!" CeCe covered her mouth, watching as Jake was on top of him, beating him continuously. "Stop!" Monica stood with the rest, the referee held Jake back as Alex layed there. Blood covered his face, black and purple taking over his left eye. Eddie, Johnny and Andy sat him down in the corner, "Alex.. he's onto us. He knows now." Eddie sighed, looking up at him. The cold water and the color red mashed together as the sponge was being dabbed gently on his wounds. "I-It's alright, I can take him." Alex struggled to get out, his sweat and blood covered chest rising with each breath. Johnny gave his father a look, a look with many words not spoken out loud. "Round four." Alex pushed his best friend and manager out of his way, Jake looked at the crowd in the front row. Jake's stare burned a hole into CeCe's, he flashed a evil smirk before looking away. "That's your bitch out there?" Alex's lips scrunched up in anger, Jake chuckled. "Thank god, you're blind." Alex made a left hook against his jaw, Silvia and sweat leaving Jake's body. A pop filled Alex's ears as Jake adjusted the sore bone. "Hit me." Alex was taken back at his sudden words, "Hit me!" Jake screamed. Gloves bouncing back as he continued to do so, Jake stumbled backwards and into the corner. Alex sighed in exhaustion, his hits were no longer painful to the tall man. Jake widen his shoulders, black gloves hovered over his face, dark eyes casting over him. "You did this to yourself." Punch. "You're nothing." Jab. "You're just a burden." Grunt. "You don't even deserve to be here." Hit. "Go back where you belong." The stadium stood still, no noise could be heard, not even a whisper. Thud. "Alex!" "One." "Get up!" "Two." "Stop the fight!" "Three." "Come on, A!" "Four." "Stand up!" "Five." Alex blinked, the air in his lungs strained for a breath of air. The world, his mind, the pain in his body, twirled around in circles. Alex cluched onto nothing, nothing was in reach, but hope. "Six." "Please!" "Seven." "No!" "Eight." He stood. "Fucking hell." Ding, Ding. "Alex.. son.. you can't continue on." Eddie sighed, Alex's one orb looked down at his. "Come on, let's forget about this. Let's go home." Alex's mouth was parted as he never looked away from the older man. "I am home." "Round five." Tears were split on the black flooring underneath the family who watched, watched the unrecognized man they knew. His glove couldn't stand up for even a second before it was interrupted by the black one, blood coated the boxers feet, almost losing their balance. It was a miracle Alex was standing. "Why aren't they stopping the fight?" CeCe asked, Monica looked at her as her mascara was streaking. "I-I don't know, honey, Maybe.. he's too scared to stop it, scared of the loose of hope. Or, maybe... he doesn't want it to be stopped because he's used to numbness." CeCe let out a shaky sigh as her eyes were begging. "Why?" "Because he feels something when he's in the ring, it's not pain, it's not anger. It's to keep the depression at bay." Ding, Ding. CeCe stood up, the heels of her shoes clicking away as she walked to his corner. She could hear Alex's abnormal breathing, his left side of his face looked like a balloon, and was about to burst. "Alex!... Alex!... Alex!" The four men looked down at her direction, "What are you doing?" she let out. "I don't know, it's something I have to do." Alex shook his head, "No you don't." her voice was harsh, but begging. Johnny stepped down, and guided her away from the scene. "Please, Johnny you can't let him do this." He sighed, shaking his head. "CeCe, I would love for him to stop, I'd give anything for it to stop. But, sometimes people do things for themselves, maybe not in a selfish way. Alex is in his own world right now and not even Jake is going to stop him." The two turned their heads as the bell went off. CeCe hung her head, "Just be there for him, be understanding." he told before running back. "Round six." Alex stood to his feet, a waterfall of sweat and blood shedding away from his bruised body. Jake bounced on his toes, his brown hair drenched as it was slicked back against his skull. "Surprised you've lasted this long." Alex felt his hot breath on his face, "I guess you haven't given it your all, I suppose." Jake flared his nostrils and swung his arm. Alex ducked, and pushed his gloves onto his chest, and jabbed a hard hit into his ribs, cracking them. A gasp left Jake's throat, he touched the tender spot before at Alex. "I'm gonna kill you!" With full force, he drew a hit at his temple, Alex held up his gloves to the sides of his face as Jake attempted to cause him more pain. A loud whistle blew, piercing both of their ears. "Let me have him! Fuck off!" Jake yelled, being pulled away by the Referee. "I'm alright." Alex told, already answering Eddie's question. "Your face, its worse." Johnny gave his father a worried look, "Well how bad is it?" Alex sighed. "I wouldn't go on." "Fuck that. I'm fine, I don't care what happens." He stood in anger, "Well I do! I don't want you to fucking die in this fucking ring, Alex." Eddie shouted in his face. "That's for me to decide, not you. Not anyone." Alex looked in front of him, the feeling in his body was indescribable. It wasn't pain, it wasn't pulsing him into the ground, it was simply something he never felt before. Eddie's watery eyes looked the young boy he'd come to love and care for, he was another son he wanted for his boys. Eddie wished he just wasn't so damn hardheaded, he was afraid it was going to cost him his life, no control of what was coming next. "I have nothing to lose." Ding, Ding. "Alex? Alex!" Alex turned to face Eddie one last time, he smiles. "Tell CeCe, I love her." "Alex... Alex, what are you doing?" Soulless eyes stared deep into Alex, no pain was written anywhere, no emotion could be read. The world went silent, everything went slow motion, and time simply didn't exist. Alex stood his ground, gloves steady as he waited for his prey. And no weapon, for his protection. Alex was ready. He longed for this moment for a long time and now, it's here. It wasn't about being right or wrong. It wasn't about proving anybody, not his family or his small group of friends, nor the media. Blood dripped down his lips as he walked to stand in front of Alex, he wasn't in pain anymore, it had came and gone. Punch, right in the cheekbone, by Jake's giant hand. A hard hit into Alex's chest, any air in his lungs escaped right then and there. You could hear the slaps against the glove on his swollen face. Blood, sweat, tears, and spit was just substance to the men. Alex's chin went straight up, not caring if it was broken or not. His back touched the rope, Jake had hit him so much he didn't know he had been walking backwards. The light shined down on his barely opened right eye, blood was begining to fill the white parts. Jake watched as Alex lower his head and he looked right at him, he could've sworn that he saw him. Alex laughed, the color red coated his teeth. Jake's eyebrows furrowed. Alex tilted his head back, with all his might, forehead to forehead. Punch. Jab. Hit. Kick. Punch. Jab. Hit. Kick. Punch. Jab. Hit. Kick. Thud. It was about beating his mind. The crowd stood to their feet, mouth gaped open at the first ever beat down that wasn't caused by Jake. But Alex. "One." "Two." "Three." "Four." "Five." Alex swayed, his body trying to repair it's self. He watched as Jake laid on the hard, wet floor. His face finally read something. Pain. Blind or not. He knew. "Six." "Seven." "Eight." "Nine. Alex's knees hit the ring, belching over, the soft material of the gloves felt like a cloud. Tears fell down his purple face. "Ten." He did it.

The warm lighting above the kitchen table glistened onto the dark wood. Laughter filled the air, as food was being passed around. The dining room sat everyone together for dinner. "Alright, folks let's say grace." Richard started, nodding and grabbing his wife's hand. Fingers were beginning to intertwine with one another. "Dear, heavenly Father. We gather here to day for the celebration of our son, Alex. Thank you for providing this lovely food prepared by my amazing, beautiful family you blessed me with. We also want to thank you for, keeping my son safe during his career he has chosen. Please continue to heal him as he is still recovering. Thank you and Amen." "Amen." Silverware hit the plates as they began to eat, "I think that plastic surgery really helped him." CeCe said, looking over to her right. Alex smiles at her as he chewed. Distant shades of purple and yellow decorated his cheeks, knuckles cracking every time he flexed. "I think it did too." Monica agreed, "How does that make you feel that your boyfriend got plastic surgery before you did?" Johnny chuckles, sticking a fork in his mouth. They laughed. "Very funny." Alex shook his head, "She's too beautiful and I needed work done." CeCe gasps, "No you didn't. I think you're very handsome." "Thanks, babe." Alex licked his lips before giving her peck on the cheek. "I think I'm gonna yak." Andy jokingly says, "Boy, have some manners." Eddie warned, scuffing. Alex laughs, his smile was permanent. He was indeed happy. This was the moment he lived for, his parents, brother, friends and his world right beside him. Alex was living for his future, his past had dissapeard like a faded memory. He wasn't worried. He knew everything he needed and it was right here. In this room, the people he loved the most. "Honey, can you grab me that plate?" Monica reached for the empty plates scattered around the dinner table, "I'll help you." CeCe smiles. "Thank you, sweetheart." Monica touched her shoulder. "Fellas, let me show you around." Richard stood, motioning to Eddie and his boys. "Brady." Alex asked out loud, "Yeah?" he looked up from Joey. "Come here." Pictures hung perfectly in the brightly lit hallway, the two figures admired the old memories forever inbeded in their minds and hearts. A flat palm layed against the white door, pink knuckles on full display. Alex smiles and chuckles. "Remember when we carved out named into this door?" Brady looks down, seeing his name and his brother's messily carved into the door. "Mom and dad were so mad at us that day, I thought we were doomed and forever grounded." Brady breathed out. "They told us they were gonna replace it... and they never did." Alex shook his head, "I think they secretly love it." Brady laughs. Alex's hand dig into his jeans and they began to walk pass Brady's old room. The familiar hum from the light from the bathroom light filled Alex's ears, it felt more warm than ever before, not so dark. "Mind doing something for me?" Alex asks, opening the drawer and grabbing the razor. "Yeah, sure." Brady nodded, taking the wire in his hands and plugging it up. Alex lifted the shirt off his body, little specks of purple and yellow laid across his skin. Alex rested his hands onto the counter, and lowered his head. You see, from the start his light became darkness. His family was his light and it was swept away by this horrible disease. It had taken over his mind throughout his teenage years to early adulthood, dealing and struggling with the fact his couldn't see what he loved and cared for. When he found what he could do, everything turned. It was like he could see what he never could with the use of his hands. The feeling of hitting something, letting go of his thoughts for a moment. Control was a dangerous, but beautiful tool to have, the need to do it for yourself, and your world. Depression was his enemy, and he needed to control it by defeating it himself. Darkness was his depression. So, fighting was his release, not his frustrations, not stress or a distraction from what he could never have back. Beating the darkness that had taken over. And now, he could see the light, darkness was nonexistence because he defeated... Himself.

Blonde hair slowly fell onto the floor by their feet, Brady guided the razor against his skull gently. Alex felt his head getting lighter, he blinked and lifted his head back up. "Oops." Brady gasps, Alex flinched at his words. "What? What'd you do Brady?" "Uhh.." Brady trails off, "Brady..." Alex huffs out. "I'm just fuckin' with you man. I didn't mess it up." Brady bursts out in laughter, a hand landed onto Brady's demin jacket. "Ouch." "Don't ever do that again." Alex pointed at him before dipping his head back down. Brady got back to work with cutting his hair. Silence filled the air for fifteen seconds before laughter replaced it. "You should've seen your face!" "Fuck you, Brady." Alex shakes his head. "Love you too, A." "Love you, B."

The Flex Brother's

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lauren-nabors · 5 years ago

Text

day ??? of quarantine

today is easter sunday, april 12th.

we’ve been quarantined for 26 days. our restaurant’s dining room’s have been closed for 25 days. tensions are high, emotions are flowing, people are feeling all the feels. everyone except me, that is...

i have felt nothing this entire month. i haven’t cried once. i haven’t been all that angry. sure, i’ve been tired and i haven’t slept well and i’ve been bored and frustrated that there isn’t more to do. i was disappointed when our foster care class was canceled. but honestly, i haven’t felt much emotion at all. my anxiety hasn’t skyrocketed. i don’t feel scared. i am not paranoid of the virus or of getting sick (i’ve never been a germaphone anyway so i don’t feel panicky in the way that other people do). i told clif the other day, i keep waiting to cry or to just lose it on someone. i know those emotions are there somewhere under the surface...surely? i don’t know what’s going on. i guess because i feel anxiety all the time in normal life and i always feel like i’m waiting for something bad to happen or for “the other shoe to drop” so to say -- and this is the bad thing, at least for now. so it’s here and maybe it’s not so bad after all for me at least (that feels like a horrible thing to say because it is bad for so many people and so many have lost their lives or their loved ones and in cities like nyc it’s horrendous beyond belief) i’m also a pretty adaptable person so maybe it’s more that this feels like something i can adapt to for the time being and so my role in this is to be that person that keeps moving... and when it’s all over perhaps i’ll crash and burn?

as for other, non-mental-health-related things, since i last posted things changed in our world even more. everything is different as we know it. all non-essential businesses are closed (gyms, spas, clothing stores, etc) and restaurants can still only do carry-out and curbside. our team has continued to adapt well, i am proud of how we’ve handled things. we cut our hours from 7am to 6pm, and then about two weeks ago we cut them even further back to 3pm. it just didn’t make sense to stay open and run the labor clock out when we were so slow. for the most part our customers have been supportive and understanding. we’ve had the occasional angry customer that said “well google says you’re open until 8pm” and it’s like, ‘well sure but this is also a pandemic and everyone is closing early so maybe stop trusting google so much and just expect that things might be different.’

church has been online for us since i last posted. we’ve been doing Redeemer west side live streams, which honestly has been encouraging for my soul to sing old hymns with Tom Jennings and hear our friend Kate from our old community group lead the prayers of the people and to see David Bisgrove’s face each week and have him lead us in the Lord’s Prayer. there’s so much we miss about Redeemer so this is both a source of comfort to us but also creating a longing and an ache that will have consequences for us when this is all over...

we’ve seen very few friends in person but we’ve facetimed with so many that we wouldn’t have ordinarily. brendon & theresa, my college girls, jen & matt a lot, my mom and dad almost everyday. it’s funny but i think i miss my mom more than anything, this is the longest i’ve not seen her since we moved back to this area after nyc. the other night we played a game online with Boyd and Sarah while on Zoom with them. it was lots of fun. Zoom is a thing now... it’s not that important.

of course our president has handled this poorly. he is the absolute worst person you want leading your country in a time like this. he isn’t a leader at all, he’s a petty child who wants all the credit for things he should’ve done anyway. instead of leading, he takes to twitter or tv every chance he can get to say “look what i did! look what i did!” Dr. Fauci, head of infectious diseases for the CDC is leading our country through this. Gov. Andrew Cuomo of NYC has also had a profound impact not just on his state but on our country through his leadership. the situation in the city is so much worse and scarier and more real than it is here. maybe my feelings would be different (emotion-wise) if we still lived in nyc. obviously because of the denseness, the death count is so much higher there. they are building pop-up tent hospitals in central park, and facing real challenges of how to bury all the bodies of those who have passed away from the virus. KFed is a nurse at Mt. Sinai and it’s crazy seeing her photos of her in her protective gear. Brendon told us that no one is taking the subways in the city. he needed some things from his office so he walked from their apartment on 158th to his work in the 20′s. it took him all day. but he didn’t want to risk any contamination and Theresa is now high-risk because she’s pregnant (what the what?!?!?! omg so exciting! praise the Lord!)

people are wearing masks everywhere. there are lines outside of grocery stores because they can only have a certain amount of people in the building at one time. our unemployment count in our country is higher than it’s ever been, higher than during the great depression. the economic fall-out from this will last for years to come. the senate did finally pass a 2T stimulus package called the CARES act. it has some provisions for small businesses to get money that could be forgivable if used on certain things. we applied and got accepted for both restaurants -- we will get money to spend mostly on payroll and some other overhead expenses in 8 weeks once the money is funded. they are also sending a check to every american who made under $130K last year -- so we’re supposedly getting a check sometime for $2400 ($1200 per person and $500 per kid for those families who qualify). hopefully we’ll get some of our staff back to work and extended our hours back to 6, since we won’t have to be as worried about our labor costs being high.

i guess that’s about all i can think to update for now. as for what clif and i have been up to, well... we’ve taken a “cocktail walk” almost everyday. around 4pm we’ve made cocktails and taken them with us as we walk Lenny around the park and say hello to those of our neighbors who are outside, too. the weather has been great so we’ve been very lucky in that regard. we’ve done some yard work and clif has been doing some drawing and lots of bread baking. we’re trying to eat at home 5 nights/week and eat out the other 2. to spread the local love around, we’ve enjoyed Progress burgers, Farmer’s Gastropub, Everyday Thai, Craft Sushi and I think tonight we’ll get either Bambino’s or Los Cabos. i haven’t been doing too much because i’m not a “hobby” person so I don’t do well with stuff like this where you have to stay inside and pass the time. i’ve been reading a lot, that’s about it. here are some photos from the past few weeks:

feeding healthcare workers in partnership with local organizations has been a highlight for us! this is Cox Hospital staff here.

we’ve been selling both bread and flour like crazy. there has been a flour shortage in grocery stores so we’ve sold probably more flour in the last 3 weeks than in the 20 year history of neighbor’s mill.

hot cross buns for easter -- didn’t do hardly what we would’ve normally for a holiday weekend baking-wise but we still had to do these gorgeous buns and some festive cookies and cupcakes.

we were on the front page of the Newsleader as a “small business adapting during the time of COVID” -- we had some blowback from the photo of our bakers shaping dough without gloves on, but all ended well as we took the time to educate and had positive responses from most of our customers

our bread at Price Cutter -- i feel like the poor stock workers were like “screw up, it’s gonna be gone in three hours anyway, let’s just leave it on the dolly”

boredom leads clif to many funny and creative things, though not always useful -- here he made a concrete cup mold

my dad on KY3 for a story about local support of restaurants in Harrison

a quarantine meal when food was low -- let’s see what’s in the fridge!

said game we played with Boyd and Sarah where we had to draw different prompts -- i am a terrible drawer!

afternoon rose and popcorn while Lenny plays and wanders -- we began sitting on the front porch just so we could see anyone walking by on the street and have the chance to chat and be social from a distance

not much has changed with the animals

chalk art outside Cox South main entrance

lol...”i thought you said CLAMdemic” card from Donita

sign we purchased to put in front of our restaurant -- strange times

#COVID19 #coronavirus #quarantine

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randomlerson75 · 6 years ago

Text

Stuff people at my high school have said or done

• “I’ll just pretend I broke my ankle. I’ll limp a little”

• “You’re face doesn’t even have many bones”

• “Do you wipe your ass with your fingers”

• “I look cute though so I’m saving it”

• “They’re not dirty minded they just have a sexy brain”

• “This is not a good situation now. I’m not happy”

• *sleeping in class and randomly screams* “STOP!!!”

• “I’m coloring my weed symbol”

• “I stretch pretty violently I’m sorry”

• “I look like I’m more full of life than you”

•”I’m a good person” “haha ok”

• “I’m gonna round it to the nearest 11”

• “You don’t always have to swallow”

• “What a fucking time to be alive”

• “why are you harissing me”

• “That’s why you turn around and punch him in the face”. “I don’t have time”

• “You are the highest grade”

• “Does it taste normal”. “No it tastes good”

• “Why are we all up in this cold ass blueberry”

• “The sun can’t be that hot”

• “I could have overreached but that would make me stupid”

• “I’m all muscle bro, it’s tight on me”

• ”I’m a stripper that’s how I make my money”

• “You’re my mom” *talking to the teacher*

• “Are you high” “just get it off”

• *laughs normally* “you sound like a pedophile”

• “Pinkie ring until I roll”

• *about to jump off a cliff in a video for free diving* “push her”

• “Capitalism is ok”

• “It’s so funny how you can be alive one second and dead the next”

• “Change the m in marijuana to a j. Jarijuana”

• *teacher puts desk in the hallway*

• “He smoked water”

• “You can’t speak Latin” “Can you?”

• “May I acquire a pencil” “yes you may” “have a blessed day”

• “I’m going to write a book about how depressed I am”

• “God has forsaken me”

• *girls trying to stab each other with scissors*

• “I got a pretty long weenus. It looks like a penis”

• “My skeleton is twerking”

• *draws a skeleton twerking* “this is why it’s fun to learn art”

• “Why does he have eye holes?” “He’s a skeleton”

• “Don’t get my businesses ”

• “YOU ARE A WHORE”

• “love is so good”

• “Happy 17th day of birth”

• “You know it’s cold when you walk outside and it’s cold

• “why are you smiling like a creep Jess?” “That’s my normal face”

• “I’m living my best life, right here right now”

• *About thirty kids doing nothing but snapping*

• “Yes, I am very racist about smart boards”

• “I used to be like ;) but now I’m like :|”

• “Physically I’m here but mentally I’m still at home”

• “Emotions are like hurricanes. They never go where they are suppose too”

• “it took me a whole 27 minutes”

• “I would pay for the fire alarm to go off again”

• “Why did we get such a gay name like Florence”

• “this is my dad” *points to Albert Einstein

• *A REAL debate on wether to rip the clippy part off of mechanical pencils*

• “Not gonna lie. I grinded a friends marathon this weekend”

• “FINISH THE TEA”

• “You should know to never mess with another persons tech deck”

• “She has a thing against white people even though she’s white”

• “Speak of the devil. All white, what a fright”

• “You are a children”

• “You think a bull in a china shop? How about a bomb in a restaurant”

• “Me do”

• “I cheesed myself”

• “I never said I was going to jump you at Bojangles”

• “Knitting is VERY fun”

• “I’m not good enough, I’m great enough”

• “North Korea, South Korea, Same thing”

• *drops pencil* “NOOOOOOOOO”

• *light flickers* “excuse you”

• “You can make Australia bigger?”

• “Why don’t we burn people at the stake anymore for doing crimes. It was proven very effective”

• “It’s like I went into the pits of hell”

• “Can I borrow her crutches” “She has a lot”

• “You have arms?”

• “I was born thick”

• “I wasn’t sick I was drunk”

• “be a good person. Go go go”

• “Lotion and ravioli”

• “It smells like weed in here”

• “F*ck oxygen”

• “bring it back tomorrow or you die”

• “Tables are for glasses, not asses”

• “Stick it in between her boobs”

• “A lot of religions end in ism” “Christianiaism”

• “I just want someone to snort my ashes. That would be cool. Mix it with a little cocaine”

• “The United States of Australia”

• “Clark Kent who. I’m kidding, that’s not even Spider-Man”

• “Mental cheese”

• “Your blood is not supposed to make whistling noises”

• “Who sleeps on a Friday night”

• “A whole ass race”

• “that’s a sexy button” “I know right”

• *Screams* “and....”

• “Judaism is neither a religion or race”

• “Have you ever met someone and thought ‘wow. I would feel no remorse killing you’”

•“I hate this school with a burning passion”

•“Beep beep in your seats”

•“What is wrong with the world? The simulation is breaking”

•“What if we’re each other’s dad”

•“You use mental gymnastics to get around your head and get what you want”

•”You can’t just roll up to North Korea. You have to beat me in bingo”

•*teachers wear a dress and played despacito on the trumpet*

• “He’s a stingy boi”

• “A for anarchy? Dude i wish”

• “shut up I’m choking”

• “The snack the smiles back” “GOLDFISH!!!”

• “Where’s the pointy boi?” “I don’t know. I have the thick boi”

• “Dude. Fish can’t talk”

• “Stop taking my eraser” “it’s a ruler” “it can be whatever it wants to be”

• “A female vacuum is attractive”

• “I can love you but not like you”

• “I am mother gothel mentally, physically and spiritually

• “Mother gothel is my religion”

• “IM GETTING A COW!!!!”

• “It’s like Leonardo Da’Vinchi but instead it’s Leonardo Decaprio”

• “I wish I had some crippling disease. Schizophrenia would be nice”

• “I’m gonna kill someone for the rush of adrenaline I’ll get. I’ll get pumped, then I’ll work out”

• “Should I become an important political figure”

• “My cats might have eaten him”

• “Who else is trying to overthrow the government”

• “Where’s our kid?” “He looked at me funny and I had to teach him a lesson. I flushed him down the toilet”

• “I text Jesus all the time”

• “You are a saucy boi”

• “Your neck is really soft. Do you know that?”

• “Um. No professor. I don’t give a fuck”

• “Bro I look like a whole ass beetle”

• “You know? I’m definitely going to hell. But I’ve accepted that”

• “We need to go to the woods and have a collective cry”

• “Moths = whore”

• “Can we watch more food videos”

• “Just outlive the old people and health care prices can go back to normal”

• “Let’s just start the gladiator games again to handle population”

• “I’ll be Michael Phelps”

• “Don’t you just hate it when Nolan steps on your 69 Barbie head”

• “He’s so 20”

• “LITTLE BOY! WHERE ARE YOUR NIPPLES”

• “You guys disgust me”

• “I thought I had a good nights sleep but then I stood up and was like ‘oh no’”

• “you look better as an apple”

• “Why the fuck does it smell like weed in here. Mrs. Burch be blazing it up”

• “What is the coast of South Carolina growing” “Fish”

• “Why are we here on Halloween but not on Thanksgiving”

• “Even though I’m 18 I still might go trick or treating”

• “All minors should be allowed to trick or treat”

• “Tomorrow is not today, is it?”

• “ah yes, the glorious uno and dos”

• “I think Kanye is a crackhead”

• “Like. She’s not hideous”

• “Casserole and Gatorade?”

• “That’s what Google’s for girly”

• “this class has corrupted me”

• “You stepped on my fat”

• “What would Jesus do?”

• *Squeaks kazoo in anguish*

• “We’re going to watch a video about the depression” “weird, nobody has been following me around with cameras”

• “Approximately 50 minutes till ice cream”

• “Did you know heroin is not good for you?”

• “I have the constant need to fight myself and my demons”

• “what the hell?” “I know”

• “you are crack-a-lakin me up”

• “I have no muscles so what’s the point”

• “Flex on the legless”

• “didn’t that movie come out in November? Fifty shades of green?”

• *County music blares from another class down the hall*

• “I got a twin brother” “What’s his name” “Pj”

• “Keep the iPhone in your ear”

• “Super white red lipstick”

• “They just need a lot more dollars”

• “Don’t be like Anthony” “Isn’t he your son”

• “There’s a lot that needs to happen in the next.... today”

• *Plays bagpipe music walking down the hallway*

• “Say sorry to Billie Eilish”

• “We should make army merch”

• “Some of us have bitch lips”

• “Time is moco loco”

• “Alfred Adler sounds like Adolf Hitler”

• “Albert Einstein is my favorite president” “YES”

• “It’s winter berries”

• “She just unfollowed your ass”

• “Do you ever get so mad you’re like rrrrr”

• “Bear Grills filtered that shit”

• “The US army is trying to recruit us with socks and bandannas”

• “This dude tastes bad”

• “I’m a sophisticated retard”

• “It’ll get your heart rate up” “I think asthma will make my heart rate go down”

• “She was like egh and the he was like EGH”

• *Door won’t open* “DISRESPECTFUL”

• “if she wasn’t my sister she would be my baby”

• “Will you let me make love to an Oreo”

• “Directions turn me on”

• “I’ll eat you” “Dude that’s gay”

• “you’ve been had a 69 in here”

• “I’m gonna be real with you. Hayden is a whole ass lesbian”

• “I’m sorry that picture is ugly. Sorry sis”

• “A whole jump suit with pikachu on it”

• “He’s been birthed”

• “Ru Paul’s drag race has been dragged”

• “Imma sip some chlorine”

• “why do you gotta throw up”

• “suicidal dog collar”

• “I’m pulling out Murphy’s head ass”

• “you’re gonna be single forever”

• “Do you trust me?” “No” “why” “you know why” “I told the truth after”

• “I didn’t mean to make her suicidal”

• “I did it in the most respectful way I possible could” “oh Jesus”

• “it’s not my fault she had that much of a connection”

• “she’s a sly bitch”

• *dresses in a Thomas the train hat and plays Thomas the train theme song on a piano*

• “I’m getting better at this” “what” “this”

• “It’s just my master plan to manipulate people’s emotions and have many successes in my future”

• “How do you do that” “I just empty my eyes”

• “You know what. Give me my birthday back”

• “Bitch bye. Not even cousins”

• “they go away. They don’t putt putt”

• “why” “so you don’t die in a police chase”

• “are you a virgin” “yes” *throws paper* “there’s my virginity for you”

• “I’m not stupid. I’m just not smart”

• *tries to hit someone with a decapitated mannequin head that has swim goggles on and fake blood coming out of its eyes*

• “you ignant”

• “I hope she chokes”

• “I had to sit at the edge of my chair, feet flat on the floor and hold my horn”

• “I don’t want to get my freaking hair done”

• “he hates my moms guts” “yeah no shit”

• “ok. Can you go cry over there”

• “Fuckin Jurassic world”

• “will you please beat up my mom”

• *drops phone purposefully* *immediately gets scared*

• “I want a new mom” “then break her”

• “did you just say what’s frog juice”

• *freshman walk by* “oh shit there’s a parade of them”

• “that five year old king is a queen”

• “Join the ranks”

• “Garrett’s carressing the computer” “cool”

• “You’re going into my dragons mouth”

• “Don’t snap my crab”

• “Crab breaking black belt”

• “are you milking the crab”

• “Cameron buttered my lemons”

• “Mixed with god”

• “What’s the juice”

• “I’m your bestie and you won’t even tell me the juice”

• “Let’s amazon.com this”

#generation z #gen z culture #gen z #gen z humor #high school #quotes #2000s kids

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tea---leaves · 6 years ago

Text

POWER!

For the @solarpunkstoryexchange! Happy Earth Day!

His mother is the local historian, which according to the majority of Godric Village, is the most important job there is.

“We forget what the world was like if there’s no one around to remind us,” explained Mr. Derrik as he dropped off the fruit from his farm. Xavier smiled politely, handing him the item his mother told him to give Mr. Derrik once he arrived. It was a strange item— a flat, little box holding a flat circle with a hole in the middle. ‘Like a donut had been flattened,’ said Levi. The box had a photo of a boy on it with his face painted with stars and stripes. Mr. Derrik smiled when he saw it. “Your mom does a very good job at reminding us.”

“Thank you for the fruit, Mr. Derrik,” said Xavier. The man tipped his hat and went back to his cart. He closed the door.

He’d never understood why the adults made a big deal about the past. The past is all that it said it was: everything but the future. Of course, his mother would disagree with him.

“Mom! Mr. Derrik brought us fruit!”

“Just bring it to me, dear!”

He groaned again, louder this time. “Coming!” He ignored the throbbing pain in his knee as hobbled his way to the greenhouse. Passing by various historical artifacts like the DVDs decorating the wall, the non-functioning record player in the corner, and various pieces of flat boxed artwork like the one he gave Mr. Derrik, he made note of the missing punk album on the wall.

Punk music, his mother said, is a call for revolution, change. Its purpose was to inspire. It was a miracle that she was willing to trade a record album for some fruit. Then again, there’s apparently a difference between fruit and Mr. Derrick’s fruit.

“Here.” Xavier dodged the pile of dirt on the cobble floor, setting down the basket next to the sunflowers. The plants were tilted upwards this morning. He followed its’ line of sight, squinting up the bright blue sky. The glass of the greenhouse tinted the colour, making everything look turquoise.

“Don’t stare at the sun, love, you’ll go blind.”

He looked away. “Yeah, sorry.” His mom popped up from behind the sunflowers, dirt smudged on her tanned cheek and her black hair in a messy ponytail. The teen slid the basket forward. She took it with care.

“He couldn’t stay for dinner?” She asked.

“Guess not.”

She dug through the fruit, pulling out a notecard wrapped in twine. Xavier raised a brow, peeking over her shoulder.

Camilla,

They’re not quite flowers, but I’m working on it.

Let’s talk again soon.

— Derrik

Xavier’s brows rose even higher. “I think Mr. Derrik has a crush on you,” he said.

She scoffed, which came out more as a nervous ‘pshaw.’ “Enough about me.” She gestured to his knee. “How’s your leg? Is it hurting again?”

“It’s fine.”

“Xavier, please,” she frowned. “No lying to me. If it’s hurting again we need to get it checked. You’re the—”

“—the future,” he finished, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

She continued, grabbing his shoulders and squeezing. “Which is why you need to be honest with me.” She brushed a curl away from his face. “You’re gonna—”

“—change the world one day?” His lips quirk upwards as his mom chuckled lightly. He shook his head. “My knee hurts a little bit when I walk but other than that, I don’t even notice. Can I go to Levi’s house now?”

“You can go to Levi’s house but make sure her dad checks on your leg, okay?”

A bright smile graced his face. He kissed her check. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be home before dark.”

Her smile matched his. “Better be.”

Levi lived on the other side of the village, which is a thirty minute walk from his house. Clouds swarmed the sky, darkening the air around as if it were a foggy day. It’s making the fireflies glow a little earlier than usual.

Levi’s dad built little biomes for fireflies. They were stationed all over the village, giving light whenever it’s dark. It’s not always reliable, he had explained once, but he’s working on it. Dr. Lucien Khan was best known as Godric’s local mad scientist. The villagers used the title lovingly, as he was a zany man with a big heart and bigger ideas. He’s always pushing for innovations and its definitely rubbed off on his daughter, Levi.

Xavier loved going to their home.

“Xavier,” Levi grinned, crossing her thumb and index finger and pretending to paint her other hand. They decided his sign language name when they were four, when he just started taking an interest in painting. “Took you long enough.” She pulled him into her room, shutting the door behind her. “I found something I gotta show you.”

The girl gestured to the big table beside her bed— something that usually isn’t there. The surface was taken up by small, wooden rectangular prisms. Xavier squinted. The objects were grouped up, separated by pathways. Little figurines, not even a quarter of the size of the wooden prisms, look like they’re walking around, trying to get somewhere.

“Where did you get this?” He signed, picking up one of the buildings. It wasn’t designed in a way of an inspired artist, but as an architect obsessed. Individual lines were carved into each of its walls along with little windows, every single prism having its own unique structure. Furrowing his brows, he set it back down with its tribe. He knew what this was supposed to be, seeing it from his mother’s written books and drawings. “Is this supposed to be a city?”

Levi gestured to the tallest building. It was skinnier than the others and oddly shaped. The body of it was like a stem, curving thinner and thinner as it reached the top. Then all of a sudden, a thick oval plopped on top. And then on top of that, something similar to a lance weapon. Odd, he thought, but it definitely called for curiosity.

“This is a skyscraper.” She tapped the top of it. “My dad says that there were skyscrapers that reached the clouds. And that this whole place—” Levi gestured to the whole of it. “— Was powered by electricity. The electricity came from the sun, or the water, or oil. It was the weirdest thing. I want you to help me paint it.”

He hummed. “I don’t see why anyone would want to live that high up.”

“No one was living there,” signed Levi, shrugging. “People would pay just to go that high up and look down. It made them feel big.”

She shrugged again. He knocked once on his forehead, sign language for: “Stupid.”

Levi laughed, shoving at his shoulder. She signed back slowly, her movements deliberate: “Inspiring.”

That was two days ago.

His leg is throbbing so bad. It’s sending hot flashes throughout his entire body, making him want to stumble down and not get back up. Phantom pains were very common, Dr. Khan had explained, but the severity of it differs from person-to-person. He guessed the amount of walking isn’t helping the situation.

His mom had gone on a trip to some place he wasn’t allowed to know and she came back with something he’d only ever seen in her pictures: a tractor.

It was so much bigger than he thought it would be. The whole village got so excited, especially the adults because I haven’t seen a tractor in decades. And even more the children, because I’ve never seen a vehicle before!

To celebrate, his mom told the kids about how there used to be little events where kids would ride around the tractor, touring the forest. Levi’s dad insisted that she go so then she insisted that Xavier went with her. And Xavier was too much of a passive person to say no.

And then Levi wanted to wander away a little when the tractor stopped for a break. So then they wandered. And he wandered too far.

And now he’s knee-deep in a city— a real, actual, ancient, ghostly city.

His spine tingles uncomfortably every time his feet beat against pavement instead of crunch under dirt paths. And the buildings are tall. Just so, so ridiculously tall that he can’t even see the top of some of them. What could they possibly need all that room for?

It’s a think his mother talked about often: greed. The need for money, the need for power, the need for more more more more more! They wanted and wanted until the crops died, the land flooded, the bugs spread disease faster than the people could fix. Something similar to lightning shoots through his prosthetic leg, making him wince. The disease was what got most people.

He stops in his tracks, his head tilting upwards— a skyscraper towers over him.

“Damn,” he mutters. “That is tall.”

Now he can see why people would pay to be on top of that.

So he walks. And keeps walking until he’s inside the skyscraper, looking down at the city.

The buildings look so small from up here, he could only imagine what the city-people would’ve looked like.

This doesn’t make him feel big at all, it only makes him feel smaller. His chest expands; he takes a deep breath. People used to live here. They would travel over roads through their vehicles and they would do different things in different buildings and they would pay some nameless somebody to stand where he’s standing and look down because it made them feel big.

He takes a step back and goes back down the stairs.

He finds a gift shop on his way down. Its isles are filled with books and toys and music and keychains. Xavier heads towards the keychains first but he doesn’t find a keychain that has the name ‘Xavier’ imprinted. Then he heads for radio. He turns it over and frowns. Shouldn’t there be a wire attached? He hits different buttons at a time, hitting the square carved into the design. It pops open, revealing a little disk. Blinking, he closes it again.

Drums start to play, holding an upbeat, soulful rhythm in time of his heartbeat. A man, his voice husky and sweet, starts to sing. There’s a funky tone to the song, he can feel his head nod along despite that. A woman’s voice joins him, singing in a way that challenges and inspires.

And I could cry power

Power has been cried by those stronger than me

Straight into the face that tells you to

Rattle your chains (ha!) if you love being free

He spots the little box that’s supposed to hold the DVD and turns it over. Nina Cried Power, it read, by Hozier. It costs twenty-five dollars. Typical.

The thought of home pops up into his head. He should be going home but he’d been so distracted. Putting the DVD back on the shelf because he’s never seen nor held twenty-five dollars in his life, he begins the understand the never-ending feeling of ‘want.’ The emotion, in and of itself, is extremely entertaining when indulged, but he misses his mom and the crunching sound his feet makes when he walks on dirt roads.

It takes a little while and little bit of struggle but he finds his way home, picking up stuff on his way back because want isn’t always a bad thing.

The first thing he does when he gets to his room is grab his paint. Then he goes to Mr. Derrik’s cabin, where he was allowed to use its walls as his canvas. Holdin one of his mother’s history books in his hands, he starts painting.

“Xavier!”

“Over here!” He yells, taking a step back from his art. He’s whirled around, suddenly facing the worried face of his mother. She grabs the sides of his face, brushing her thumb over his cheeks in haste.

“Xavier,” she gasps, heaving and tear-stained. “The whole village was out looking for you! Do you know how worried I was?”

“Sorry,” he says. “Sorry, Mom.”

She sniffs, brushing his cheeks instead of her own. “So worried,” she says. “I was so worried.” They spend a moment just looking at each other, both hesitating. She turns her head, catching sight of his newest painting.

“You keep saying you want me to change the world,” Xavier starts, swallowing down the cotton in his throat, “but I don’t think you want me to change it. I think you just want me to put it back to the way that it was. And the world... it wasn’t that bad? Like, I can see why you miss it so much, but a lot of mistakes were made. And— and putting things back to the way things were isn’t going to fix anything.”

He hands her a piece of glassy, smooth material that’s cold to the touch. He’d read about it before. A solar panel, they called it. “If you really want me to change something,” he says, “then I want to do it by my terms.”

Her head is still turned towards his painting, a smile soft on her face. “Alright then,” she says, “you are the future, after all.”

Xavier wanted to experiment with the black and white colour palette, painting Nina Simone— the musician and civil rights activist of the 60s. She was known as the high priestess of soul, a strong black woman of her time and beyond. In the painting, she’s looking upwards, hand in the air. There’s a speech bubble next to her, a single word written in all caps: “POWER!”

#solarpunkstoryexchange #solar punk

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feelingfredly · 6 years ago

Text

Burning Hearts and Burning Souls a.k.a Shiba Fever

For days his skin had felt like it didn’t fit right—too tight and too loose, sunburnt, and freezing all at the same time.

“I am sorry, Ichigo, but I cannot find anything wrong with your human body. Even your iron levels are good, and you know how we had to fight that with iron pills after you hit puberty and had that first growth spurt. You were constipated for months…”

Ichigo pulled his shirt closed as his father dropped his stethoscope.

“I thought we’d agreed never to discuss that again.” He growled the words out over Isshin’s embarrassing catalog of his childhood illnesses. “You’re sure I don’t have a fever?” He rubbed his hand over his forehead. It didn’t feel hot, but every other symptom just screamed fever.

“Ah my son, I know you have very little faith in my abilities as a physician…” the drama king was at it again, and Ichigo was tempted to add to the list of things about his father that he had little faith in, “but even I can take a temperature. Unless you’d prefer I try the rectal thermometer?”

Ichigo scooted back violently and held up his hands in defeat. “No, no that’s okay. I believe you. It’s not a fever. Not a fever.”

He slid off the exam table and finished putting his clothes back in order.

“Thanks for checking me out,” he said, sighing. “I just can’t figure out what’s wrong with me.”

Isshin hesitated a moment. “Well, I’ve taken several blood samples and sent them off for testing. We will keep watching, and hopefully we’ll figure out what’s causing this discomfort sooner rather than later.

Ichigo nodded and grabbed his bag. He’d promised Chad they’d meet up at the gym.

“I’ll let you know if anything changes. I’m going to be over at Chad’s this afternoon. We may get dinner. I’ll call and let Yuzu know if I’m not going to be back in time to eat with you all.”

With that and a wave, he spun on his heel and headed out the door, into the sunlight.

Isshin reached for his phone and dialed a number he hated. “Kisuke? I think Ichigo has a problem.”

***

Ichigo pushed open the door to the boxing club. The smell of leather and rubber and sweat was strangely pleasant, and it was nice to hear the healthy sound of fighting without the accompanying panic of having to win or die.

“Hey Ichigo,” Chad called from the ring in the center of the room, and then lashed out in a sharp one-two punch, knocking his opponent off-balance. “Be there in a minute.”

He watched the big man square off against a smaller but much quicker opponent, and a wave of dizziness threatened to bring him to his knees. His skin was on fire, and swirling gray encroached on his view of the black and red ring.

He’s fast. Damn he’s fast. STAND AND FIGHT LIKE A MAN! What’s he even doing here. He isn’t Shiba. Looks like one of….

“Ichigo.” A deep voice called him back from the edge of unconsciousness, and then there was a cracking sound and the terrible smell of ammonia. “You with me, man? Come on, shake it off. Take a deep breath. Yeah, that’s it.”

Ichigo grabbed his stomach trying to stop the bleeding, grab the black handled tachi that had sliced him in half, to keep his insides inside… but there was nothing there. No tachi. No blood. Just the ghost pain from the vision and the searing image of the face of the man who’d killed/not killed him.

Sweaty arms held him propped against a bare chest. Chad. Just Chad.

The bright lights hanging above him looked like multiple suns, each one surrounded by a halo of color that slowly faded as his vision came back to normal.

He sat up and the little trainer next to him pulled his eyelids back in a cursory examination. He grunted and nodded to Chad. “Should be good. But he isn’t fighting today. I won’t clear him for the ring.”

Ichigo could feel Chad’s agreeing head shake as an earthquake through his chest. “That’s cool, Hoda-sensei. I’ll get him up and feed him. He forgets to eat sometimes.”

The trainer looked at Ichigo and the redhead shrugged and pushed himself. “Been fighting off an inner ear thing. My balance is all screwed up. Sorry for the trouble, Hoda-sensei.”

It looked like the little man was going to say something else, but a head shake from Chad stopped him and he looked between the two men a moment before coming to some decision.

“Okay, Kurosaki-kun, if you say so. Have your dad look you over if it doesn’t get better, yeah?” He looked at Chad. “You need to get your rub down and your shower. You’re going to lock up if you sit here and let your muscles get cold. Kurosaki-kun, you can sit in the locker room while Yasutora-kun finishes up. Now get going.”

He pulled Ichigo to his feet and watched as Chad rose smoothly behind him. “Next time, don’t just cold-cock your sparring partner when your friend goes down, Yasutora-kun. It’s hard enough to find someone willing to let you beat up on them regularly.”

Chad just rumbled something agreeable and the trainer made a frustrated sound. “Fine, fine… locker room. Now.”

With that the little man wandered back to the ring-side and starting barking directions at another pair of fighters warming up.

“You good to walk, Ich?” Chad picked up his gloves from the floor where he’d apparently thrown them.

Ichigo rolled his head from side to side, but the swirling gray didn’t reappear. “Yeah, I think I’m good. The dizziness is gone at least.”

They made their way to the outside of the mats on the wrestling area floor and headed to the locker rooms in the back.

“What happened?” Chad asked.

Ichigo shook his head, still feeling a little discombobulated. “I don’t know. One minute I was watching you take on that little guy, and then the whole world got weird. The ring and the gym were gone, and I was outside with some little guy in black attacking me. He stabbed me in the stomach… it was… bad.”

“Bad, huh?” Chad didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to. For Ichigo to say something was bad, it had to be really bad.

“Yeah.” Ichigo pulled a deep shuddery breath and pressed his hand again his abdomen. He could still feel his intestines, hot and slippery, as he tried and failed to hold them in. He could feel the blood dripping through his fingers. Hear the scream of someone else in the distance and see the satisfied face of his killer. “Bad.”

He pressed a hand to his own forehead, but even with the shocky feeling making his fingers cold, he didn’t feel any hotter than before. This was just crazy.

“You talk to your dad about the fever? You said you were going to.”

Chad had argued that he check in with Isshin for a while, ever since the sensitivity had started, but he’d refused until now.

“Yeah.” He sighed and followed Chad further into the locker room. “He can’t find anything wrong. No fever. Nothing obvious. He did take some blood samples and is going to send them to the lab. If he doesn’t find anything there, I don’t know what I’m going to do. This is getting crazy.”

Chad splashed around for a few minutes before coming back out, towel slung low on his hips, and hair dripping long down his back.

“You scared me, Ich. Your face lost all its color. You were looking at something, but I couldn’t tell what.” Chad didn’t push, but Ichigo knew he would wait until he got an explanation.

“It’s like I told you before,” he said. “Different person this time, though. And I saw who killed me.”

Chad grunted and put a hang on Ichigo’s shoulder. “You didn’t tell your dad about that part, did you?”

Ichigo flushed a little and looked away. “If it turned out to just be a fever from some human disease, there was no point. He wouldn’t need the details of my hallucinations to treat what’s causing them.”

Chad pulled his street clothes out and got dressed in silence. It comforted Ichigo to know that he would always be there, supportive and strong without feeling the need to manipulate. He didn’t put up with lies or shitty behavior, but he wasn’t a hypocrite about it, unlike most people Ichigo had worked with over the past few years.

“If the blood tests come back negative, you’re going to have to talk to him, you know.” Ichigo sighed and banged his head back against a metal locker, the sound a strangely appropriate punctuation to what he wanted to say to that. “I know.”

Chad pulled him into a loose embrace and patted his back. “You won’t have to face him alone, though. Promise.”

Ichigo pressed his forehead into the clean smelling corner of Chad’s neck and shoulder and breathed deeply. “Thanks.”

***

Kisuke flipped another page and frowned.

“And he hasn’t explained these to you?” Accusation laced his question and Isshin had the grace to look embarrassed.

“He doesn’t know I found them. You know I haven’t always been the most… attentive parent. I don’t think he ever expected me to notice. But the drawing started about the same time he started complaining about feeling dizzy. Then the fever symptoms started, and he was drawing more and more. Last week he made the trip into Tokyo to pick up better pencils and a couple of sketch books. He shoved these old notebooks into the drawer when he got those.”

Kisuke frowned. “You really shouldn’t have brought them to me without his permission. This is Personal Space Violation 101, Isshin-san. Plus, you don’t know for a fact that they’re connected to whatever this illness is. It could just be coincidental.”

Isshin reached out and snagged one of the spiral notebooks that Kisuke hadn’t gotten to yet.

“He’s getting better. The drawings look less like Rukia trying to make battle plans, and more like actual people.” He opened the slim book and flipped through a few pages before finding what he was looking for. He slid the open notebook back across the table.

Kisuke froze.

“Who told him about this?” he asked.

Isshin shook his head, “No one. It isn’t something that just comes up in dinner conversation, you know.”

Kisuke nodded faintly. It wouldn’t. The assassination of the children of a clan, dead before they could even begin to understand why they were targets, was something that couldn’t be forgotten, but couldn’t be treated lightly.

Ichigo had understood that.

The drawing was rough. Ichigo wasn’t trained, but that didn’t matter. He’d caught the scene in its entirety. Bodies scattered in the darkness, the only light the flames rising behind them, but the buildings were unmistakably the Shiba compound. And there, scattered like abandoned toys, were six children that would never fulfill their potential as scions of the Shiba clan. They’d been pulled from their homes and schools and brought to the Shiba compound as a protective measure when it became clear that for whatever reason the Shiba were becoming targets for both violence and gossip.

The compound had become their killing ground.

“There were six children.” Kisuke said and Isshin nodded, unable to look at the picture on the table. He had been on assignment for the Gotei 13 when the killing happened, and he’d never forgiven himself for not being able to stop it.

“Six.” Kisuke was staring at the drawing. One long finger traced the outlines on the page and Isshin huffed.

“Yes, you morbid bastard. Six of them. The oldest was eleven. He was supposed to start at the Academy that year.”

Kisuke hummed. His finger trailed across the cheap lined paper, careful not to smudge the pencil lines, until it landed on what looked like a hand reaching out from the space outside the picture. Reaching forever for the others lying across from it.

“There are five in this picture.” Kisuke tapped his finger on the outstretched hand. “And this is drawn from the perspective of the sixth. Like he watched it happen.”

Isshin looked at Kisuke and frowned. It made no sense.

“There’s no way for him to have seen it, Kisuke,” he said, “it happened almost fifty years ago.”

Kisuke slowly flipped more pages and shook his head. “Something is going on, Isshin-san, and if this is any indication, Kurosaki-san is right in the middle of it.”

Isshin sagged in his chair, the painful memories of his clan nothing compared to his worry for his son.

“Again.”

***

He’d fallen asleep between Chad and Orihime about halfway through the movie. Uryu turned the volume down a little so they could talk without waking him.

“He’s lost more weight.”

Orihime nodded. “I tried to heal him of whatever this is…” she waved an impatient hand, “but nothing changed. Again.”

She’d been trying to reject whatever was plaguing the redhead each week, but except for solving some of his exhaustion, it hadn’t changed anything.

Uryu shook his head. “His body isn’t the problem. His reishi levels are getting higher every time I see him. I don’t know how, but it has to be what’s causing his symptoms. His soul just isn’t designed to hold so much.”

Chad shifted and wrapped his arm around Ichigo’s shoulder. “Can you teach him to bleed some of it off? Can he focus it like you do with the arrows?”

Uryu shook his head. “No. The problem is that it isn’t just about the reiryoku around him, or the reishi in him. It’s become part of him and is exerting its own spiritual pressure. He was strong before, but this…” his voice faded. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Orihime glanced back and forth between the three. “Have you seen the new sketches?”

Chad shook his head, “No, but he collapsed at the gym earlier. He didn’t want to worry you, so that’s why he didn’t mention it. He has, apparently, talked to his dad about it finally. Shiba-san can’t find anything wrong. He drew blood for some tests, but I can tell Ichigo doesn’t think he’s going to find anything.”

Ichigo groaned sleepily and rolled away from Chad’s hold. “If you wanted to know, you could have just asked me. You didn’t have to wait until I was out for the count before discussing things.”

Orihime rested her hand on his knee. “You needed your rest, Ichigo-kun. We were just talking.”

Ichigo covered her hand with his own and gave it a squeeze. “Yeah, well, the time for denial has passed. Even Goat Face thinks so.”

Uryu’s lips twisted. “I could get you in to see Ryuuken. Maybe he could figure out what’s wrong.”

Ichigo snorted. “Yeah, that’s about a mile past my last resort, Uryu. But thanks for the offer. Really.”

They all settled deeper into Chad’s immense sofa and turned the movie back on as Ichigo sighed in resignation.

“Time for a visit to the Shōten.”

***

Ichigo thrashed in his bedding, fighting the blankets as if they were trying to kill him.

“Ichigo,” Uryu reached out and touched the redhead’s shoulder. “You’re okay. It’s just a dream. Try to calm down.”

It didn’t help. A well-placed elbow caught Uryu in the jaw with a crack, and he saw stars. He knew that if he didn’t calm Ichigo down, that was going to be the least of his injuries.

“Why are you doing this, Rin-chan?” The high-pitched cry pierced the dark room, far from Ichigo’s normal voice. “You said you wanted to speak to my father. You said you wanted me to…”

Ichigo screamed, and Uryu had never heard anything more terrifying. Ichigo didn’t scream. Nothing frightened him. Nothing.

“Ichigo,” he pushed across the cushions separating them on the makeshift futon where they’d crashed a few hours earlier and shook the redhead hard. The earlier elbow was accompanied by flailing legs and a sharp right hook that Uryu barely dodged. It would be easier if Ichigo knew what he was doing, but he couldn’t fight someone who was so helplessly caught in the maze of his own mind. “Wake up, baka.” He gave his friend a sharp slap, just enough to cut through whatever nightmare was running his body at the moment, and Ichigo sat bolt upright in his blankets.

“Otōsan! No!” The high-pitched voice faded as consciousness crept back into Ichigo’s eyes, the foggy amber brightening as he came back to himself.

“Shit,” he hopped to his feet and ran for the bathroom, retching into the sink, the afterimages burning themselves into his memory. Blood from a beautiful mouth, and an unfeeling face behind a deadly dagger thrust up through a white chin. The knowledge that a beloved father was next on the devil’s hit list and guilt that she was the one who opened the door for him.

He came back out of the bathroom to see Uryu waiting patiently, one of his new sketchbooks in hand, holding it and a pencil out.

“Get it out, Ichigo,” he said gently. “I’ll keep watch for a while.”

During the war they’d watched each other’s backs like that, and deep inside he knew that if Uryu was standing guard he didn’t have to. He nodded gratefully and flipped through until he found a blank page, the pencil and paper becoming the focus of his whole world.

There was no fire this time, just silent death, efficient in its betrayal of a woman’s trust and heart. So many hopes snuffed out with that life.

He sketched the woman’s kimono, the garden, the blood on her fingers as she touched her face in disbelief, but mostly he focused on the killer’s face. It was one he’d seen countless times. The same man wielding a black blade that held not only death but utter destruction for any soul it touched. A man intent on destroying the Shibas, not just in this generation, but forever.

Who he was Ichigo had no clue. At first, he’d hoped it was just an over-active imagination, a savior complex suffering with no one to save, but the face hadn’t faded. Instead, it had become so clear that he felt like he could smell mint tea on his breath, and the peppery scent of his hair oil.

It took an hour for him to wind down, another fifteen minutes for him to put a few more details on the image so he could be certain he wasn’t missing anything important. Uryu sat with his back to him, their feet barely touching, as Ichigo hunched over the kotatsu, the Quincy making certain that nothing would disturb his friend while he couldn’t defend himself.

“Finished?” He asked when he sensed Ichigo’s movements slowing.

“Yeah,” the redhead cleared his throat. “Never been female in one of these before.”

Uryu glanced over his shoulder and down at the sketch. Definitely a woman’s point of view.

“That’s the same guy you drew yesterday,” he said. Ichigo nodded.

“He’s been in a lot of these dreams. I don’t know who he is any more than any of the others, though.”

They put away the drawing supplies and straightened the blankets again, the warmth from the kotatsu a pleasant contrast to the rest of the cool apartment.

“All good?” Chad’s voice came from the door to the bedroom and they could see Orihime’s shadow in the hall to the tiny guest room waiting to hear the all clear. Ichigo couldn’t imagine going through this without them.

“Yeah, I think so. The worst is over. Just a little tired now.”

“Ichigo-kun?” Orihime asked quietly. “Would you like me to…”

He smiled at his friend but shook off her offer. “Thanks, but I think this time I’m just going to roll with the tiredness and see if I can’t fall asleep.”

Orihime pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and gave him a hard look. “Okay, but if you can’t get comfortable, or if you have another vision, wake me. I can at least take the physical pains away.”

They shared a smile and she headed back down the hall with a little wave to the others. He hated how he’d become a burden to his friends, but they’d made it clear that after all the time he’d spent saving everyone else, it was their turn to take care of him.

***

Kisuke didn’t think of himself as an artist, but after a few centuries of life before cameras one developed certain skills.

“This is what he drew?”

Yoruichi had one hand outstretched, and Kisuke could feel how much she didn’t want to touch the sketch pad but couldn’t keep her fingers from reaching for it.

“It’s a fair representation. It doesn’t have the power of the original, but the details are pretty much there.”

Kisuke didn’t say it didn’t feel like the artist was screaming, or that it was missing the sheer hopelessness behind that other outstretched hand, small and uncalloused by life. He couldn’t find the words.

“He isn’t going to appreciate you having this, even if it is just a copy of what he drew. This is Ichigo, Kisuke. You need to be careful you don’t push him too far.”

He knew. There was enough between him and Ichigo already. He was trapped again, though. He couldn’t do what he needed to do without doing things that he really, really shouldn’t be doing.

Again.

Yoruichi shivered, still looking at the sketch book. “I knew a couple of these kids. They were a lot younger than Kūkaku, but we looked out for them occasionally. Played with them sometimes. The littlest, Ai-chan, didn’t like being at the compound. She wanted to go home so badly, but her parents were certain she’d be safer there.”

Kisuke sagged in his chair. He’d done things he would never be able to reconcile with, but there was always a reason. There was no reason for this.

“What happened to them, Yoruichi? And why?”

Long dark limbs dropped into a chair across from him, and his friend sighed deeply.

“I don’t know, Kisuke. Kūkaku doesn’t talk about it much. She gets so angry and sad.” Her voice hardened. “I can’t imagine it happening to the Shihōin. I wouldn’t stop until I’d killed everyone responsible or died in the attempt.”

Kisuke nodded. He had no problem imagining that outcome, and if something like this happened again the Shiba Clan head would no doubt shove her Kakaku Hō up their collective asses and shoot off every firework in the Seireitei. But Kūkaku had been young when the Shiba had been targeted, and back then she wasn’t nearly as blood-thirsty as her Shihōin friend.

Isshin had been with the Gotei 13 already, although in retrospect he’d been sent on many missions that were better suited to others, and his absence meant that there was less force behind the Shiba outcry that they were being targeted. Kaien… well, Kaien had done what he could. He’d been constrained by the rules of the Gotei 13 as well, but as the head of the Shiba Clan he was forgiven for some of his outbursts.

“Kaien was convinced there had to be someone in the Central 46 targeting the Shiba. He couldn’t prove it, but he told Kūkaku not to trust anyone from the Gotei 13 or Central 46 until he could dig a little deeper. Unfortunately, he was killed before he came up with any proof of his suspicions.”

Unfortunate indeed.

Kisuke pulled the sketch pad across the table, once again focused on the faceless hand reaching out to his cousins.

“I think Ichigo is having visions of these killings.”

Yoruichi stilled, her little self-soothing movements stopped like a cat catching view of prey.

Long slender fingers picked up a pencil and sketched a small image on the corner of the pad.

“All of his drawings are from the victim's’ point of view. And this.” He pushed the pad towards Yoruichi. “It was on several pages of his sketchbooks, even as far back as his earliest drawings.”

The twisted emblem marked only a few items in Seireitei, and there was no reason for Ichigo to have ever recognized the significance of it, even if he had once seen it etched into the side of the Sōkyoku.

Ichigo had made sure that Twinned Punishment was destroyed, but there were other, smaller items that could destroy a soul without the burning power of Sōkyoku’s phoenix. It was only the most powerful souls that needed its sun-hot scourge.

“You don’t think someone…” Yoruichi started, but she didn’t finish the thought. “Tch. It would have to be, wouldn’t it?”

Kisuke nodded. There were only a few places a shinigami could find a soul-destroying weapon, and the Onmitsukido was by far the easiest.

“It looks like someone was using the Onmi, or at least the Onmi’s weapons, in their attack on the Shiba clan. It doesn’t get us any closer to why, but it might explain what’s going on with Ichigo.”

Yoruichi raised an eyebrow, invitation enough for Kisuke to launch into his favorite pastime.

“I have a theory…”

***

“Inoue-san.” Tessai didn’t blink but it was clear he was surprised to see the young woman standing in the Shōten.

“Tessai-san,” she said, bowing deeply. The two had developed a deep bond during the fighting for Karakura Town, and Orihime had great respect for the quiet man.

“Is Urahara-san in?” She was proud that her voice didn’t quaver. Even after a year without seeing the man, it was hard to say his name. “I would like to speak with him if it would be possible.”

Tessai stood a little straighter and Orihime could feel the weight of his silent questions bearing down on her, but as much as she would love to share her problems with him over a cup of wasabi-liquorice tea--it really was wonderful for headaches--as they had done during the dark days, today she had to be strong. For Ichigo.

“Please.”

It must have settled an unspoken concern in the man. He nodded once with a short bow of his own and silently moved towards the back of the store.

He was gone for a few minutes, no more, but to Orihime it felt like an hour. An hour for her to reconsider the wisdom of bearding the lion in his den, and start shaking in her mary janes.

“Inoue-san,” Tessai’s voice calmed her and she turned to face him. “Urahara-san is in the kitchen making tea. He asks that you join him.”

Orihime nodded. “That is very kind of him, Tessai-san. Thank you.”

She forced herself to put one foot in front of the other until she reached the beaded curtain that separated the shop from the living space, and then, with a deep breath, she pushed through.

It looked exactly the same. The shelves were still cluttered with everything from half open boxes of stock for the shop to exotic bottles of ingredients Urahara used in his experiments, and the kitchen smelled of curry powder, matcha, and incense.

“Inoue-san! Such a pleasure to see you.”

Orihime jumped and blushed. “Hello, Urahara-san.” She bowed. If it was a little less respectful than the bow she’d given Tessai, well, Urahara wouldn’t know. “It is very kind of you to allow me to visit without an invitation.”

Urahara tsked and waved his lotus fan. She hated that fan. “You are always welcome, Inoue-san. I had hoped you and the others would know my door was never closed to you.”

Orihime fumed at his careless tone, the total glossing over his betrayal of Ichigo threatening to bubble up and choke her, and she forced herself to focus on the matter at hand. It wouldn’t help anyone if she let her feelings get the better of her now.

“You are gracious as ever, Urahara-san.” She moved toward the burner where the kettle had begun to boil. “May I?”

Urahara waved his permission with that damned fan and she set to pouring the water over the tea leaves he’d already spooned into the blue porcelain pot. She breathed the steam in, the slightly astringent smell of green tea an instant relaxant for her overwrought nerves.

The green-robed man moved to his normal perch, a ratty old cushion on the floor next to the kotatsu, his bare feet tucked under the edge of the blanket there. His eyes were hidden under the edge of his hat, as usual, but somehow Orihime felt like she had more of his attention than she’d ever had before.

“Here we go.” She brought the tea tray to the table and started pouring. “The tea smells wonderful. Thank you for allowing me to share it with you.”

Urahara nodded, the fan disappeared in some deep pocket for the moment, his hands using the teacup as his camouflage instead.

It was ironic that the scars that lined his face were never the reason that he hid from the world. No. He’d hidden his true feelings the whole time she’d known him. The scars just gave him a new excuse.

“How are your studies, Inoue-san?” The blond always insisted on chit chat. For once, she didn’t mind. It gave her time to get her thoughts in order.

“I am happy to say that I will finish my degree next term.” She inclined her head briefly. “It is amazing how much focus one learns through surviving conflict. It made university… much less intimidating.”

She didn’t point out that she was two years ahead of schedule. That she’d doubled up courses whenever possible. That the extra work soothed her during the nights when she couldn’t sleep, or the days when every crowd supplied showed her faces of people that she knew were dead. “I am supposed to start my practical rotations at the hospital after that. Dr. Ishida has guaranteed me a place.”

Uryu’s father was a terrible parent, but he cared greatly about the hospital and its patients. Working with him would allow her to use her spirits when she could, without all the explanations that would be necessary when dealing with someone who was unaware of the spirit world.

Urahara nodded slowly, following the unsaid messages easily. He knew how Ryuuken worked better than most.

“I thought perhaps you would go to work for Isshin-san at the Kurosaki Clinic.”

Orihime held her face blank, the calm visage covering the fierce frown that wanted to make itself known.

“No.” She gently placed her cup on the table, the careful motion a necessary focus. “I decided that was not the best fit for me.”

It had been her dream. She’d imagined a life rolled into the rambunctious embrace of the Kurosakis. A life where she and Ichigo married and, if they were lucky, had children that were just as honorable and awkward and wonderful as Ichigo was. When it became clear that he didn’t return her feelings, she thought she’d shatter with her dreams, but she realized fairly quickly that she didn’t have to grieve the loss of Ichigo. He loved her, it just didn’t take the form of her childhood dreams. That said, the constant reminder of what might have been didn’t sound like the best way to put the past behind her, so when Ryuuken had approached her with his offer, she’d accepted with no regrets. Shiba-san had known how she felt, and when she informed the collected Kurosaki/Shiba/Yasutora/Ishida/Inoue family over one of their group dinners that she was going to accept Ishida-sama’s offer of a position, he’d met her gaze with a seriousness he rarely showed and told her he was happy for her, and that if things didn’t work out she should come back to him because she’d always have a place at the clinic if she wanted.

It was good to have family.

She looked up from her tea and caught Urahara’s eyes. Urahara didn’t understand that. Didn’t understand what he threw away. Baka.

The blond’s ever-present bucket hat was tilted back far enough to show dark circles under his eyes. He looked older, which made no sense. Not only was he shinigami, but he was in a gigai. Still, there was a bone-deep weariness about him.

Was it wrong that she was happy to see it?

“What about the others? I saw that Yasutora-kun won another of his matches. I told Tessai-san that I wouldn’t be surprised if he was chosen for the Japanese Olympic boxing team.”

Orihime wasn’t sure, but she thought Urahara was babbling. That couldn’t be right, though.

“I don’t think Chado-kun would feel comfortable with that. He says professionals are even paid for losing, so if he wins it isn’t as if they’re suffering unduly. He is very aware of his talents, and how some might feel he has an unfair advantage.”

She tapped a pale pink fingernail nervously on the tabletop, took a deep breath, and jumped in.

“I know you’re wondering why I came to see you today.”

One green shoulder rose a fraction. “Friends are always welcome at the Shoten, Inoue-san, but if there is something I can help you with, I do hope you won’t hesitate to ask.”

Her teeth were instantly on edge. That answer that wasn’t an answer thing he did was so frustrating. He was such a coward.

She was looking around the room trying to calm her thoughts again when her eyes fell on a sketchbook open on the shelf beside Urahara. It had several things stacked on top of it, but there was an edge visible. With a hand. A hand she’d seen before. A hand she cried over.

“How did you get that?”

All thought of politeness fled. He would tell her how he got that picture, if she had to use her spirits to take him apart and put him back together over and over again, his Crimson Princess be damned.

“Inoue-san,” he said placatingly, but she wasn’t going to let him run this time. Not this time.

“Tell me.”

Sparks haloed her head, her Shun Shun Rikka practically vibrating at her temples, and Urahara bowed his head and shifted to pull the sketchbook off the shelf.

“Should have made a more thorough effort to put this away, but as you can see,” he waved a hand in her direction, “I wasn’t exactly expecting company.”

Orihime grabbed the book and pulled it closer. “Ichigo didn’t draw this.”

Urahara hummed in agreement. “No. I did.”

Brown eyes flew up to pin him in place, and her voice dropped dangerously. “Are you saying that you sent these visions to Ichigo?”

If possible Urahara looked even more tired.

“I know you and your friends have issues with me, Inoue-san, but in this let me reassure you. I do not know why Kurosaki-san is suffering through these visions.” His voice was as bland as rice porridge, but there was a glint in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I didn’t even know they were happening until Isshin-san called upon me yesterday. That is when I saw the picture I copied.”

Orihime snorted. “Shiba-san was snooping through Ichigo-kun’s belongings I suppose. Not a huge surprise, and not his best choice of action, but at least he’s trying.”

“We are all trying, Inoue-san. Kurosaki-san has earned our efforts a hundred times over.” He shifted on his cushion and turned the sketchbook to where the symbol he’d drawn was foremost. “I believe this has something to do with what is happening. I noticed it on several of the drawings Isshin-san showed me.”

Orihime translated the kanji entwined in the little cartouche. Tamashī Mekuri. “Soul Stripping.”

Urahara made a disapproving sound and nodded. “One of the forbidden inventions of the Kidō Corps. Tessai-san outlawed its use when he was promoted.”

Orihime just happened to be looking down when it happened, or she’d never have noticed Urahara’s hand as it fisted along the inside of his thigh.

“What does it do?” She was almost afraid of the answer. If the Kidō Corps had forbidden it, it couldn’t be anything good.

“It does exactly what it sounds like. A soul is stripped from its consciousness and cast out. It dissolves into mindless reiryoku and has no chance at reincarnation. It is a final punishment for souls that are determined to be irredeemable. Polluted. Whose consciousness would poison the whole of the cycle if it were allowed to remain intact.”

Orihime considered this for a moment, horror beginning to dawn. “Like the Sōkyoku?”

“Not exactly.” The blond sat back on his cushion and gave another little half shrug. “It doesn’t have that kind of power behind it.”

He didn’t come out and say It doesn’t summon an enormous phoenix to destroy everything in its path, but he didn’t need to. That kind of thing got noticed, and whatever Urahara was chasing was more subtle than that.

“For Kurosaki-san to be seeing it in his visions, it has to be connected. There are only a few still living in Seireitei that know this spell, and even fewer weapons that have been imbued with its power. It is, at least, a place to start.”

“Can you help him now? While you’re chasing whatever kidō casting phantom is out there?”

The tiredness was back, and Urahara shifted awkwardly until he was almost curled in upon himself.

“I do not believe Kurosaki-san is interested in whatever aid I might provide.” He flipped open his fan, but not before Orihime saw the frustration on his face. “I will do what I can through Isshin-san. Dragging him here against his will would only add to his burden when he is already so clearly suffering, and I refuse to be a party to that. He has enough bad memories of this place already.”

For a year Orihime had struggled with her feelings about the man across from her. She’d practically hated him at times, but now… she admitted she’d been denying something all this time, and it was time to stop.

“Ichigo-kun collapsed yesterday.” She dropped it into the middle of the conversation with an almost audible clang. “That’s why I’m here.”

All pretense of disinterested calm drained from the shopkeeper, and he leaned forward against the table’s edge, her words bringing him to total attention.

“Collapsed?” he asked.

“Yup,” she picked up her tea cup and sipped the cooled brew. “He was watching Chado-kun spar, and then *bang* out for the count.” She watched the blond intently. “It took almost ten minutes for them to bring him around, and then he was wiped out all evening. Uryu-kun says his reishi levels are rising at a dangerous rate, but he can’t figure out how to make it stop.”

The blond was always pale, but he got noticeably paler as she shared more details about Ichigo’s declining health. His fists clenched reflexively, and his breathing was a little faster. If she wasn’t mistaken, and after four years of training as an ER nurse she felt fairly confident in her skills, he was on the edge of a panic attack.

The mighty Urahara Kisuke, panicking over Ichigo. It was about time.

“He is okay now, I assume? No lingering effects of the collapse?” his questions were practical, but the tone in his voice was personal, and Orihime decided to be merciful.

“He was fine when he went to sleep last night. I’ve been using my Shun Shun Rikka to make sure that whatever is affecting his spiritual pressure levels doesn’t harm his body, but I can’t stop the images from affecting how he feels, or what he thinks.”

Silence fell between them for a moment.

“If he is somehow reliving these events, I can only imagine the toll it must take.”

It wouldn’t take too much imagination, Orihime thought. Urahara had his own demons, his own visions of death to deal with, but he had always been the killer not the victim, and so he made peace with his visions through guilt. It was a miserable peace, but it was more closure than Ichigo had, and Orihime figured he knew that, too.

“He’s coming here this afternoon.” She put the tea down and looked straight at the older man. “He needs your help Urahara-san. Will you turn him away again?”

Urahara stiffened. “I never turned him away, Inoue-san. Never.”

The sneer on her face was even more powerful because it was so rarely seen. “You can lie to yourself, Urahara-san,” she snapped, “but I saw what he was like when you sent him away the last time. I held him as he cried. Chado-kun had to be stopped from coming here and shoving that striped hat up your ass where your head was. You broke his heart, and then you told him to come back once he’d gotten over his adolescent hero-worship.”

She stood, too angry to remain any longer. Understanding that the feelings between Urahara and Ichigo weren’t as one-sided as she’d thought only made the hateful way the older man had pushed her friend away even harder to swallow.

“How could you?” she whispered. “He loved you. Loves you, still. And here you are, pretending it doesn’t matter, letting him suffer alone. Again.”

She wiped away a tear. “You’re both fools.”

“I have been called worse, my dear,” he said, “and truly. However, if Kurosaki-san wants to come and let me examine him, I would be happy for the chance to help him. Please tell him that.”

She started walking for the front of the shop and flipped her hair back over one shoulder as she sent him one last look. “Tell him yourself. If you want to help, get over your pride or your shame or whatever is causing you to be like this and help. He needs you, and you owe it to him.”

And with the clicking of the beaded curtain she was gone.

***

“Kurosaki Clinic, how can I help you?”

The bright voice cut through the line like sunshine, and Kisuke smiled. Nothing would ever change Yuzu.

“Ah, Kurosaki-kun,” he smiled into the phone, putting his best foot forward, “it has been a long time. This is Urahara Kisuke. I’m trying to reach your brother.”

The phone dropped its connection and he was left speaking into dead air.

He dialed again.

“Kurosaki Clinic, how can I help you?”

“Kurosaki-kun,” he started again, “I’m sorry, I had a problem with my connection. I am trying to get-”

“It was no problem at all,” she said, overriding him. “I hung up on you. And I’m going to do it again. Goodbye.”

And she did.

Kisuke didn’t dial the clinic again. He, instead, called Isshin directly. “Hello, Shiba Isshin.”

“Isshin-san,” he said, his tone a little less cheerful than it had been for Yuzu. “I do hope you don’t intend to hang up on me.”

Isshin grunted. “Why would I hang up on you?”

“I don’t know, but apparently your daughter had a reason.”

It didn’t matter. It really didn’t. He knew that when he refused Ichigo’s advances there would be sides taken. It was just… unexpected.

“Ah, Yuzu,” Isshin made understanding noises. “Yeah, she hates your guts. Pretty sure Karin does, too.”

Kisuke didn’t pretend to be surprised. Karin had always been the volatile one of the twins. If Yuzu had shut that door on him, Karin would have slammed his foot in it given the chance.

“Well, regardless of my standing with your daughters, I am actually calling about your other offspring. I need to get in touch with him, but it seems the phone number I have for him no longer works.”

There was another uncomfortable silence. “Yes, about that… I’ve been thinking. You were right when you said I shouldn’t have gone through Ichigo’s things, and I think that unless you’ve already got some idea of what is going on, we should put this whole thing on the back burner until I get the results from the blood tests back from the lab. We really ought to rule out any--”

Kisuke cut him off. “Inoue-san came to see me this morning.”

Apparently, that news was as surprising to Isshin as the event had been to Kisuke. The other man sputtered and coughed into the phone.

“She what? She swore she’d never…” Isshin realized what he was saying and tried to dial things back but it was hopeless. “I mean… oh hell, Kisuke, you know what I mean.”

He knew.

“Nevertheless, she came to see me. She told me Ichigo collapsed yesterday.”

“Collapsed!” The worried parent voice would never sound normal coming from Isshin, but it happened often enough now that Kisuke didn’t look for the lie in it. “He didn’t say anything to me. After promising to let me know!”

“Calm down, Isshin-san. I’m sure he will tell you, he just needs time to recover. However, if he is physically unable to deal with the strain of these visions… if he is collapsing from them… I don’t believe we have the luxury of waiting and seeing.”

He thought about the next words carefully. “Inoue-san indicated that he meant to visit the Shōten this afternoon.”

This time Isshin didn’t burst out with denials. “Things must be worse than he told me.”

The implication that only something extreme could drive Ichigo to the Shōten was a bitter truth, but Kisuke couldn’t deny it. He remembered the look of utter betrayal on Ichigo’s face from their last meeting. He lived with the memory of it every day.

“Indeed,” he agreed. “That is why I wanted to contact him first. If meeting him someplace like the clinic would make it easier for him… Well, Tessai-san and I can take readings anywhere.”

Kisuke swallowed the lump that was trying to block his throat. “You know I’d do whatever necessary to help him, Isshin-san.”

A rough voice sounded behind him. “It was never your help I wanted, Kisuke.” Ichigo laughed bitterly. “And I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you and Goat Face are conspiring behind my back, again.”

His arms were too thin. Muscles from years of sword work were still there, but there was nothing but a layer of skin covering them. His face was drawn, too, amber eyes dull and huge in his face, and Kisuke ached to see the pain in them.

“Kurosaki-san,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I was trying to contact you. I tried the clinic first, but Yuzu-kun refused to speak to me. So, I called your father.”

Ichigo crossed the small living room and placed a key on the table. He’d had it all this time but had never used it.

“Orihime told me she came to see you this morning.” He was looking around the room like he didn’t know what to do, and it hurt almost more than the lost look on his face. Once, he’d considered this almost more a home than his own, but Kisuke had taken that from him, too.

“She did.” The shopkeeper disconnected his call and laid the phone on the shelf beside him. “I spoke to your father yesterday, though. He was worried about what was happening to you and thought I might be able to help.”

Ichigo chose Tessai’s seat and lowered himself onto the pale pink patterned cushion, moving slowly and carefully like someone more than twice his age.

“Well, for once I’m glad people are doing all the talking for me. Makes this whole reunion thing a little less awkward don’t you think?” He smiled, but it was a stiff and unnatural thing. “See the thing is, I almost didn’t come today anyway. Probably would’ve chickened out if Uryu hadn’t threatened to jab me with his sewing needles if I didn’t.”

Kisuke understood. He’d been avoiding this moment too, but time for avoidance was past. Ichigo needed him, needed him in a way he could actually give him, and nothing was going to stop him now.

“Well, I will have to thank Ishida-san the next time I see him.” He moved closer to the redhead and sat on the floor in front of him and spoke softly. “I am very glad to see you, Kurosaki-san.”

He took Ichigo’s hand in his and just held it for a moment, letting his own skin warm it, and he felt the faint tremor that shook the fingers.

“Kisuke,” Ichigo’s voice cracked. “I know I shouldn’t be here, but…” he raised his eyes to the blond’s and swallowed thickly, “I think I’m going crazy. I’ve fought wanna-be gods, and killed monsters, but I can’t fight this. I don’t even know what it is. Please.”

Kisuke’s fingers were crushed in a painful grip but he didn’t try to pull them back. This little bit of pain was nothing compared to what he’d tolerate if it meant he was helping Ichigo.

“Stop that.” He said firmly. “You are not going crazy, and we will find a way to fix this.” He wrapped his free hand around the two clenched ones and squeezed encouragingly.

“Tessai-san!” He pitched his voice in the sing-song that cut all the way through to the shop, but he knew Tessai was just in the next room waiting. He knew his kidō skills were going to be an important part of fixing whatever was haunting Ichigo. “We have work to do.”

The large man appeared silently in the doorway and he bowed.

“Welcome back, Kurosaki-san.” There was a world of quiet emotion in those three words, and Ichigo nodded at the big man.

“Good to see you, too, Tessai-san.” He started to say something else, but the words garbled in his throat, and the little bit of color in his face drained away.

“Kisuke--” he whispered. Then he fell.

***

The little man in black swung his tachi with a vengeance, his face a rictus of hate. The weapon flashed in the low light and the young man fell, blood spurting across the frost covered ground, the redness fading to black as it melted into the grass. Miyake-sama. Master. He did nothing. Let me call for the healer, maybe he can… No. No! You can’t! Please! PLEASE!!! The shield he summoned wasn’t fast enough, and he felt the burning bite of the tachi shatter his focus and the spell unraveled around him.

The metallic smell of blood faded with the screams in his head, but Ichigo couldn’t move. His body was as frozen as the corpse he’d just been.

“Kurosaki-san,” Kisuke’s arms were wrapped around him but he could barely feel it. His skin was cold, so cold. “Kurosaki-san!” Kisuke was getting louder, his fingers checking his pulse and tapping his face sharply, but Ichigo was still too far away to respond.

“Ichigo!” Kisuke picked him up as if he weighed nothing and carried in through the mini-maze of the living space until he reached the sleeping quarters, and then Ichigo was lowered to a futon and covered, the soft gray blankets the same color as Kisuke’s eyes.

“Miyake-sama,” he forced the name through stiff lips, convinced it was important. “He killed me. Killed the others, too.”

“Shhhhh, Ichigo, I’ve got you,” Kisuke murmured the words of comfort as he started setting a pair of kidō seals at the head and foot of the futon. “Just another minute. Just stay with me. Please. Just another minute? You can manage one more minute, can’t you. Just one more.”

Then he was yelling for Tessai, the large man moving around in the hallway doing something Ichigo couldn’t see, but he could feel the wall of reishi that was being raised. It felt like the shield that Hachi placed around the Visored’s warehouse, but smaller. Tighter. A dome around this room, and him, and Kisuke.

Ichigo shivered as goose bumps raced across his skin, the feverish feeling was almost overwhelming, but he focused on Kisuke’s voice, that voice he’d dreamed of, calling his name, asking him to stay.

“Kisuke.” He fought the vision for control, and he could feel it receding a little. Then, just as Kisuke finished setting the second kidō seal, the hold it had on him disappeared in a flash.

He was himself again.

His throat was raw, and he realized he must’ve been screaming again, “I hope the neighbors didn’t call the cops when I started screaming.”

Kisuke shook his head at the redhead. “Don’t worry about that. If they haven’t called the police about Jinta and Ururu’s battles royale, a little screaming wouldn’t cause them to blink an eye.”

Ichigo was so tired. He tried to focus on Kisuke, but his eyes had other ideas. “Whatever you and Tessai did helped. I could feel it.”

Kisuke looked at Tessai still standing in the doorway and they exchanged some silent kidō master information and Ichigo sighed. He just wanted to sleep.

“Can I just rest here for a little bit?” He tried not to sound pathetic, but he was comfortable for the first time in months, and the feeling of something scratching at his reiatsu was gone. “I promise I won’t stay long. I don’t want to be a bother.”

And if he heard Kisuke whisper he could stay forever if he wanted to, well… apparently, some hallucinations were better than others.

***

“I think he’ll sleep for a while, Tessai-san,” Kisuke quietly joined his friend in the hallway. “It’s fairly clear that our theory of Ichigo being the center of a confluence of conscious reishi was right. Hopefully, that also means that the seals will keep him protected from it,” he sighed.

“Did you notice the barrier he was summoning?” Tessai’s voice was dark. “Kurosaki-kun doesn’t know that spell. That had to be something he was acting out from the vision.”

“Yes,” Kisuke said. “I’m lucky he didn’t manage to finish the spell. I was close enough it would have done quite a bit of damage.”

“Also, I heard what he said. Miyake-sama killed me.” Tessai looked down, a rare expression of anger on his face. “The Miyake family has deep roots within the Kidō Corps. I personally trained two of them before our escape to the living world. They didn’t have the focus to become great, but they had impressive natural talent. There was nothing to prevent them from reaching officer level if they’d wanted it.”

That made a sort of sense. “Have any of the Miyake ever been members of the Second?”

“Not as far as I know,” Tessai shook his head. “They had no connection to the Shihōin. The men I knew were very proud of their samurai ties. They claimed that their grandfather remembered his life before Seireitei, and that he was so deeply tied to his honor that the knowledge of that past couldn’t be erased by anything short of the Sōkyoku itself.”

The shopkeeper walked down the hall to the kitchen and lit the fire under the kettle.

“So, we have a kidō wielding family talking about honor and the Sōkyoku. Sounds like perhaps someone decided to use their skills to take their revenge against the Shiba, and somehow, through whatever misbegotten method they were using to try to destroy the connection between the Shiba and their soul particles, they’ve left them wandering loose in some sort of limbo, unable to re-enter the reincarnation stream, but still aware. Still Shiba.”

Fifty years of only being able to remember what was lost. To remember the betrayal of death. The fear.

Tessai agreed. “Kurosaki-kun must be acting like a beacon for them. Drawing them to him, as only an incredibly powerful Shiba force could.”

Kisuke laughed under his breath as he scooped matcha into the teapot. “Why am I not surprised? Ichigo has always been a neon sign in the darkness calling to the lost.”

He had called to Kisuke, pulled him from the shell he’d built around himself. Forced him back into the light. Back into life. Even Benihime sang his praises, and Kisuke wasn’t foolish enough to argue with her.

“It doesn’t explain how the particles are entering his personal reishi pool and affecting him physically?” Tessai frowned. “Nor does it explain why the Shiba’s were targeted in the first place. However, our first priority is to stabilize Kurosaki-kun and prevent any more damage.”

***

When Ichigo awoke, he wasn’t alone.

“Ichigo-kun!” Orihime excitedly moved to sit beside him on the futon when he shifted. “You look much better!”

“I feel better,” he said, and it was true. The echoes in his head were gone, and the raw feeling under his skin had faded almost completely. “A lot better, actually.”

He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, the last echoes of the vision of being killed much farther away than usual at this point. “I collapsed again, didn’t I?”

“Technically, no,” she said, pushing a piece of hair behind an ear, making one of her hairpins glint in the low light. “Urahara-san said that you were exhausted after the last vision, but that you didn’t lose consciousness due to the changes in your reiatsu.”

Uryu was sitting by the window. “The shinigami was able to stabilize your reiryoku. There are some interesting protections weaved into the walls of this room already, but I think the kidō seals they placed around you were the real key. They effectively stop any reishi from entering this space, so while your reiatsu isn’t affected, there’s nothing extra bombarding you.”

Ichigo remembered Tessai’s mad dash to raise the shield just as he was about to collapse again, buried under a reishi-slide too powerful for him to handle. It was a close call, and he didn’t want to think of how long it would have taken him to recover if he hadn’t managed it in time.

“So, you’re basically a boy in a bubble.”

He looked around at the room, littered with Kisuke’s personal things and sighed. A sandalwood incense, and Kisuke scented bubble. Why couldn’t the Universe just kill him already?

He must’ve made some sound because Uryu let out a little snort of laughter. “Yeah. Someone out there loves fucking with you, Kurosaki.”

Another laugh rumbled in the distance. Goat Face. Of course.

“Your dad got here just before we did.” Orihime grimaced. “Apparently he panicked when Urahara-san hung up on him. He told Yuzu-chan to close the clinic and shunpo’d over here. He’s already received one Jigokuchō since he arrived. I’m assuming it’s for breaking the shinigami laws of concealment, but I didn’t ask.”

His dad was many things, but restrained and logical in the face of trouble was nowhere on that list. He had to admit, though, that it was nice to finally feel important to his old man, even if it did mean he had a brand new helicopter parent in his life at twenty-three.

“At least he hasn’t run in here and tackled me.”

Orihime grinned. “He tried. Apparently Urahara-san put a little extra anti-Shiba kick in the shield. He can’t get in.”

“And the best part, is that because the problem you’re having is directly connected to Shiba energy, there’s nothing he can do about it.” Uryu said.

Ichigo burrowed back into the blankets, sucking up every ounce of comfort he could.

“Shiba, huh? So the visions?”

A dainty hand reached out and patted his arm, and he knew Orihime was trying to find a way to tell him what he needed to know gently.

“It’s okay, Orihime,” he said. “Just tell me. Can’t fight it if I don’t know what it is.”

Uryu saved her. “That’s just it. We’re not sure it’s something you can fight. When we got here we saw that you’d dropped your pack by the back door, so we pulled your sketchbooks out and let them look at them. All three of them recognized someone in those books, and every single vision was the murder of a Shiba.”

Ichigo had often wondered what had happened to his father’s clan, but it wasn’t something Goat Face was comfortable talking about. He carried as much guilt over it as Kisuke did over what he’d done for the Onmitsukidō, or during the wars against Aizen and Ywach.

“Did any of them recognize the killers?” he asked.

“Tessai-san.” Orihime looked solemn. “They were students of his at one point apparently. He was most… disturbed.”

“I can imagine.” Ichigo had only seen Tessai lose his cool twice during the war against Aizen, but he’d been a demon in the fight against the Quincy. The big man did not take kindly to betrayal, and he would destroy anyone who attacked an innocent. Many of the Shiba he’d seen killed were innocents.

His stomach growled and he realized he was hungry for the first time in weeks. “Am I really stuck in this room?” he asked. “I’m starving.”

Orihime beamed. “This is the safest place for you, but Tessai-san told me they set up a slightly less intense barrier around the building. You should be safe as long as you don’t leave, and I know for a fact that there’s a big pot of Yuzu’s curry out there keeping warm on the stove.”

Yuzu’s curry and Kisuke’s bedroom. Ichigo could think of worse ways to recuperate.

***

“So, as much as I hate to admit it, I am partially to blame for Kurosaki-san’s current state of disability.” Urahara said, voice heavy with guilt. “The sword used to return his powers to him during the conflict with Ginjo, was designed to allow many different types of power to be absorbed into his soul, recharging it. It had to open a pathway for the reishi to travel and the spells I worked into its surface acted almost like the drugs used in a human organ transplant surgery. I had to make sure the new energy wasn’t somehow rejected by his soul before it could be absorbed and accepted as Kurosaki-san’s own.”

Uryu caught on quickly. “And that pathway is still open?”

Kisuke nodded. “It seems likely, yes. Tessai-san is going to examine Kurosaki-san more closely now that he has rested and there is no foreign reishi clouding the readings, but that is my best guess.”

The room was crowded, and it felt almost like the old days. Everyone focused on solving a problem, brought together by conflict, but kept together by something stronger. That something had almost always been Ichigo. It didn’t seem wrong that he was again the reason that the ten of them were once again around his table. It felt even more normal to realize that his mistake was what caused part of the problem in the first place.

“Stop blaming yourself, Kisuke,” the redhead said. He was sitting slouched against Chad’s side, his burst of energy from earlier waning as the discussion progressed. He would need to be forced to rest soon, but from the look on Orihime’s face that wasn’t going to be a problem. “Even if you’d told me at the time that this was a possible side effect I would have grabbed that sword with both hands and stabbed myself if I had to.”

He probably meant it, but that didn’t mean it was the wise choice, or that he knew what he’d have chosen if he’d had the choice. Ichigo was too ready to just gloss over the details.

“Regardless of what caused the path, what is this energy that is attacking Ichigo-kun through that path. You keep saying it’s Shiba energy, but unless I’m mistaken souls that have that much awareness reenter the reincarnation cycle, and the ones that don’t just become reishi.”

Tessai spread his big hands. “The kidō corps has invented many spells over the ages that affect reishi and reiryoku. It allows shinigami to perform the konso that releases souls to come to Soul Society, and on the other end of the spectrum it is used to restrain a soul’s spiritual pressure, or even destroy it in cases of capital punishment.”

“The Sōkyoku.” Ichigo said it like it left a bad taste in his mouth, but Tessai nodded.

“Yes, the Sōkyoku had several different spells embedded in it, one of which was Tamashī Mekuri. The symbol of which is scattered throughout the drawings you’ve made over the past few months.”

“Soul Stripping.” Isshin ground the words out. “I thought that had been made illegal by Central 46.”

Tessai shrugged. “I am the one who declared it illegal to teach to the Kidō Corps, and Central 46 supported my decision, with a few noted exceptions. But, that doesn’t mean that the skill disappeared. There were many who already knew how to cast it, and several weapons that had it embedded in them.”

“Let me guess. One of which was a black tachi with a white tassel on the pommel and that symbol stamped in the side of the blade.” Ichigo’s voice was perfectly flat, but Kisuke could hear the pain in it. He’d seen what the weapon could do up close and personal, and there was nothing that would make that less horrific.

“Yes.” Tessai didn’t dance around with his answers. “Someone used it to not only kill the Shiba living in Seireitei, but attempted to destroy their spirits completely, preventing them from reincarnating, and thereby removing their power from the Shiba forever.”

Yoruichi pounced onto the important part of that sentence. “Attempted?”

“You’re saying they’re still conscious out there.” Isshin sounded appalled, and Kisuke couldn’t blame him.

“Yes. The killers didn’t have enough reiatsu to activate the full effect of the weapon. It takes a particular kind of person to be able to completely destroy a soul. There can be no question in their mind, or they won’t be able to completely strip the consciousness from the energy.’

“Instead of destroying the Shiba energy, they just sent it into limbo, and it has been there ever since. It has coalesced into a metaphysical stream of reishi that identifies as Shiba, and it is still picking up any stray bits of soul that survived the extermination.”

“Because Ichigo has so much Shiba energy of his own, he’s acting like a magnet. It wouldn’t matter except for the hole we punched through his souls protective outer layer. It started as just a trickle, so it wasn’t noticeable. Now that the stream has started moving, though, it is continuing to gain strength as it pours into him. That is why his reishi levels were rising so rapidly for no reason, and if we don’t close the pathway it will keep happening, until finally it overwhelms his own soul particles.”

“Which I would really like to skip, if possible.” Ichigo sat up, eyes glassy. “But if we close the pathway, what will happen to them?”

“Them who, Kurosaki-san?” Kisuke asked, but he knew the answer.

Ichigo yawned a jaw-cracking yawn and leaned forward on his elbows. “Don’t play dumb, Kisuke. The souls that are hitching a ride with me. What will happen to them?”

Kisuke sighed, he knew this was where Ichigo would get stuck. “Nothing. They will remain as they have been since they were killed.”

Isshin shifted uncomfortably, and Yoruichi hissed under her breath. No one liked the answer, but that didn’t change it.

“They’ll just stay… lost?” The young man looked like the bottom had fallen out of his world, and Kisuke wished he didn’t always have to be the voice of doom.

“Without an anchor, the energy will continue to move through the currents of reishi that flow around us.”

Ichigo pushed himself up, sleepiness gone and a determined look on his face. Kisuke couldn’t help but smile; it was exactly the reaction he’d predicted to Tessai that afternoon.

“Well, screw that.”

***

Kisuke rubbed his eyes and bent back over the table where he and Tessai had God knows what spread out. It looked like parts of a gigai, and a whole lot of I-have-no-idea-what-that-is.

“But if we open the pathway with the same set of spells….”

He let the actual words fade out. They’d been at it for a couple of hours, and Ichigo didn’t understand any more of it now than he had when they’d started. It was just nice to hear them in the background, that familiar sound that he hadn’t realized he depended on for peace of mind until he’d lost it.

Everyone but Yoruichi had gone home after the meeting, although getting Isshin to leave had been a struggle. He seemed to think that his presence would be soothing. Chad and Uryu had frog-marched him out the door with Orihime close behind to make sure he didn’t bolt. They were good friends.

He closed his eyes and drifted.

Shiba-san. Can you hear me now, Shiba-san?

The voice was small and melodic, tickling the back of his mind like a distant whisper.

Please, Shiba-san. Please try to listen.

Ichigo’s eyes were so heavy, but he couldn’t ignore the voice in his head. If I’m not dreaming, he thought, then I can hear you.

He could almost feel the relieved laughter that burst in the back of his head. I don’t believe you’re dreaming, but after all this time I feel like I must be.

Ichigo groaned. Now his imagination was talking to him instead of just showing him horror movies on the back of his eyeballs.

Not your imagination, Shiba-san, and I am very sorry that you’ve been subjected to so much unpleasantness recently.

Unpleasantness. Well, that was one word for it.

Who are you? Ichigo thought loudly, and the voice tittered a cultured little laugh. You do not have to shout. I can hear you perfectly well.

Fine, he thought again. Who are you?

And she told him.

***

“She says she is Shiba Shiori. She married into the Shiba clan about the time my dad was born. She was Yamamoto’s niece or something. I didn’t really follow that part.”

Kisuke sipped his tea. If this got any more convoluted, though, he was going to shift to sake.

“She said she found me first, and the others followed her.”

Tessai grunted. “A relative of Yamamoto-soutaichou would probably be quite powerful in her own right. It would make sense that she would have a greater chance of surviving the soul stripping process.”

“She said the reason I can hear her now is because there’s no more new reishi coming in, and she seems to be the most… coherent of the souls there.”

They might be able to use that. If Shiba Shiori was this successful with contacting both Ichigo’s conscious mind, and the soul fragments clinging to him, she could be a gathering force. That would solve the problem he and Tessai were having about how to separate Ichigo’s reishi from the foreign parts.

Yoruichi stretched out on the low couch next to them. “Her name rings a bell, but I’m sure Kūkaku would remember her.”

Ichigo laughed. “She remembers both of you. And all the trouble you caused.”

Yoruichi just grinned. “Youthful exuberance. Nothing more.”

That was it! How could he have missed it!

“We need to go to the Shiba compound. Send a Jigokuchō. We need Isshin-san, Kūkaku, and Ganju. Tessai-san? Gather up the gigai we were working on, and bring that, too. Oh, and we should probably send a message to the Soutaichou that there’s a pair of murderers in the Kidō Corps, but we can deal with that later.”

He stopped and looked around. Everyone was staring at him.

“What? Haven’t you ever seen genius in action before?” He snapped his fan open and shooed everyone into action.

Ichigo didn’t move. “You’re sure this is a good idea?” It was clear he was nervous about leaving the protection of the sealed Shoten.

Kisuke looked him square in the eyes. “I promised I wouldn’t lie to you again, Kurosaki-san. Do you really want an answer to that?”

Ichigo sighed. “This is really going to hurt isn’t it.”

“Probably.” The blond nodded, but reached out a hand and patted his shoulder lightly. “Hopefully, it will be the last time, though.”

Yoruichi stood up and stretched. “Famous last words, eh, Kisuke?” She wrapped her arm around Ichigo’s waist and herded him towards the senkaimon in the training area. “At least we’ll all be here to tell him I told you so, Ichigo-kun.”

Ichigo brightened a little, and the blond hid his smile behind his fan. It was good to see that he still had a sense of humor, even if it was at Kisuke’s expense.

Time to work.

***

“So, I want you three to focus your reiatsu into the Reishūkaku. Focus as much as you can, without blowing it up, of course.” With Kūkaku, that last part was sometimes necessary.

Isshin and Ganju stood on either side of the glowing orb, their faces works of concentration, and when Kūkaku added her reiatsu, there was a noticeable rise of temperature in the room.

Shiba’s really had more reiatsu than was good for them. Or anyone, as they were discovering.

It only took five minutes for the three to begin sweating and shaking from the effort of pouring more reiatsu into the Reishūkaku, but Kisuke waited until he could feel the surface of it start to vibrate before he called a halt.

“That should do it.” Kūkaku handed the cannonball back to him, and he frowned. This was the tricky part. Or one of them, at least.

“Tessai-san, if you’d do the honors?” he asked, stepping away from the gathered Shiba.

Tessai silently nodded and then set to work, raising two interlaced shields that would protect those in the area from both physical and spiritual damage.

“It’s ready, Urahara-san,” he said, and the blond bowed a little in thanks.

He hadn’t focused any of his personal energy into the reishūkaku because it was important that it contain nothing but Shiba vibrations. This part, however, was just a matter of wrestling it into shape. Kisuke didn’t have a huge amount of reishi to work with like Ichigo did, but he was very good at using what he had.

Reishūkaku typically were enlarged after being filled with reiatsu. This time, though, Kisuke was going to collapse it in on itself. He needed it small enough to fit inside the gigai he’d constructed.

“Be careful Kisuke,” Yoruichi was standing next to Kūkaku, not touching, but comforting. “You’d be hard to replace.”

Kisuke nodded once, but this wasn’t about him. It was about Ichigo, and he would be much harder to replace.

There, he thought finally. That should be small enough. Plus, nothing had exploded, which was always a good sign.

“Tessai-san,” he said, holding the now palm-sized orb up. “I think it’s safe to take the shields down now.”

***

Ichigo felt like he was going to throw up. The feverish feelings were back and worse than ever. His head was pounding like he’d drunk too much sake the night before, and the day before that, and the day before that. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it through this.

It had been bad in the living world, the constant scratching at his soul, but here in Soul Society it was hundreds of times worse. He supposed that made sense, though. There would be weaker soul fragments that were never able to leave the area where they were killed, and now that he was there, right next to them, they, too, wanted to join the party.

Isshin notice him swaying on his feet. “Hold on, Son,” he said, slipping a hand under Ichigo’s elbow to steady him. “Not much longer now.”

Ichigo laughed, a strangled sound. Not much longer now. That’s what Isshin said to women delivering babies, or when he was putting in stitches in an emergency when he didn’t have anesthetic nearby. But what choice did he have.

Kisuke glanced over at him, concern clear on his face, but he didn’t stop what he was doing. Tessai had placed the gigai in a chair, a gaping hole in the chest where the soul-chain of a real human would be. That was where they were going to put the reishūkaku.

“Tessai-san,” he said, holding the now palm-sized orb up. “I think it’s safe to take the shields down now.”

Ichigo let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He’d been scared that something would go wrong with this step and Kisuke would be hurt, but he didn’t have any other suggestion of what to do, so he’d just tamped the fear down into the box he kept all his Kisuke related feelings in.

Pretty soon he was going to need a bigger box.

“Okay, let’s see how this works.” Kisuke covered the distance to the gigai in a few steps and gently tucked the glowing ball of spirit into the opening. Ichigo had never watched the animation of a gigai before, but he knew the basics. This didn’t look like the basics.

The opening tightened on its own, pulling the not-skin together like a zipper over the reishūkaku, and the skin began to warm, but where a normal gigai would change to reflect the reiatsu powering it, this one didn’t take on any of the physical characteristics of the three Shibas that contributed to its activating force.

“Tabula Rasa.” Kisuke stood and watched the process for another long minute, before deciding it was safe to move to the next step.

Another wave of nausea and dizziness hit him, and Ichigo fell to his knees.

Why? How could you? You killed him! I love you, please don’t do this. Please, no... Betrayer! You’re a weakling! Stand and fight like a man! Nii-san! Help me… please help me… someone. Someone! Anyone!

The voices hammered at his mind, a hundred strong, every one trapped as they were calling out, pleading, dying.

“Hurry up, Kisuke,” he gritted out. He didn’t know how much longer he could take it. Gray was already encroaching on the edges of his vision.

The blond was busy finishing up whatever arcane crap he had to do, but he still managed to snark back at him.

“Youth. Always so impatient.” His voice was light and sing-song, but his face was transfixed on the gigai he was working on. “You must exercise restraint, Kurosaki-san. You can manage one more minute, can’t you. Just one more.”

Ichigo gritted his teeth against the disorienting feeling, and clung to the memory of Kisuke saying that to him before, holding him in his arms, carrying him to his bedroom, protecting him, the way he’d always protected him.

He loves you, you know. Shiba Shiori’s voice cut through the whispering roar. He thinks he’s protecting you. Keeping you separate because separate is safe. We did that with our family. With our children. We were wrong.

Ichigo rubbed his face. There were tears, squeezed out between tightly shut lids, and he could only suck in short panting breaths. He clenched his fists, trying to hold his body together against the strangling force of the Shiba power around his soul, and heard Kisuke’s voice.

“Focus your reiatsu, Kurosaki-san. Pull it tight into yourself. Focus.” Strong arms lifted him to his feet and supported him as they brought the gigai next to him, and he looked around for Kisuke.

He was there, standing behind him. His arms were the ones holding him up. He always did that. Maybe that’s why Ichigo wanted those arms around him all the time.

“Hey Kisuke.” It didn’t sound like his voice. “You know that hero worship thing you told me to get over?”

Kisuke’s grip tightened but he didn’t say anything.

“This isn’t the way to convince me I’m wrong.” He coughed, and felt something suspiciously like blood on his lips. “Shiori says you’re wrong by the way.”

Kisuke grimaced, and Ichigo laughed a little. Bastard was terrible with emotions. But that was okay. He loved him anyway.

“Is the gigai ready?” He gripped Kisuke’s hands so tightly he was surprised the blond wasn’t complaining. That wasn’t his way, though.

“Yes. Are you?” Gray eyes bored into his and he thought, now or never.

“Always. You know that.” He tried to smile, but his mouth wasn’t cooperating.

One of the hands holding him pulled back, and reappeared with a white handled tachi, a black tassel on the pommel and another symbol stamped on the side.

“I’m sorry, Ichigo,” Kisuke whispered, and then a white hot pain sliced through the world.

“You need to work on that.” Ichigo leaned in and pressed a kiss against his pale cheek, and let go. He would convince him he was wrong later.

Much later.

***

“Sorry for the invasion, Shunsui,” Ichigo tried to push himself up from the cot Hanatarō had procured for him, but between his dad and Kisuke that idea was squashed pretty quickly. “But I get the impression that if we didn’t deal with this sooner rather than later, there wouldn’t have been as positive an outcome.”

Remembering the swirling chaos that had overcome him at the end still set his teeth on edge, and it would have happened whether he’d stayed in the living world or not. It just would’ve taken longer for it to destroy him, and they might not have been able to help Shiori and the others.

“I have summoned the Miyake brothers as requested, but remember, the Kidō Corps is not actually under my jurisdiction.”

Yoruichi stepped forward. “Suì-Fēng has been informed of the charges being brought against them and will oversee this questioning. I am certain that after all the facts are laid in front of her the the Commander-in-chief of the Onmitsukido will know what to do.”

When the Captain of the Second appeared, she had two tired looking Kidō Corps members in tow.

“I have brought the men as requested, Yoruichi-sama, Kyōraku Soutaichou, but I must insist on an explanation. This is most irregular.”

Ichigo laughed and Isshin patted him on the shoulder.

“The assassination of a clan is quite… irregular, indeed.” His voice held none of its normal geniality, and Ichigo recognized the steel that was required for him to have achieved the rank of Captain of the Gotei 13.

“You’re saying that these two,” she pointed at the men who were now kneeling in front of Tessai, neither arguing or defending themselves, “killed the entire Shiba clan?”

“Well, their father started it, but yes.” Isshin stepped forward, his shihakushō, stark against the red in his neck and face. “Their father was proud to a fault. He was convinced their ties to the Miyake samurai made them special, more honorable. More valuable.”

Ichigo hadn’t seen his father this upset since Aizen had been unmasked as a traitor.

“The truth was, that just made them vulnerable to Aizen, back when the bastard was setting his chessboard for taking over Soul Society. Tell me,” he spoke to the two men, “what did your father tell you? That the Shiba had offended his honor in some way? What?”

The two men barely turned their heads, but the larger of the two spoke.

“He was betrayed. The woman he loved, who had promised herself to him, was convinced to marry a Shiba instead. She humiliated him, and it was all for a Shiba.”

The second man moaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Aizen…. Aizen told him that the Shiba were trying to destroy his honor. The honor of all of Soul Society. He said they’d infiltrated the Gotei 13 to prevent law enforcement from being able to stop them, and that they were forcing women to marry into their clan against their will. Every sin against the soul was laid at their feet, with examples and proofs and a constant stream of inflammatory discourse until my father snapped. He begged Aizen to let him help excise the cancer in Seireitei, to allow us to help, and Aizen was more than happy to agree.”

A hand reached out from one brother to the other, a clear attempt at comfort.

“It wasn’t until after,” the dark little man whose face had haunted so many of Ichigo’s nightmares looked like he was going to be sick, “after Aizen was defeated that the lies started to fade from our minds, and we became aware of what we had done as his puppets.”

They dropped their foreheads to the grass and prostrated themselves in front of the remaining Shiba.

“We have been living with the guilt of our actions since Aizen was defeated. Our father could not face himself after he realized that he had killed the very woman he’d loved, all because of his hurt pride and willingness to listen to Aizen’s lies.”

“Well, your family wasn’t alone in being fooled by Aizen,” Ichigo snorted. “The whole Central 46 paid for it, too.”

Kūkaku sucked on her pipe a little harder but didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Anger radiated from every line of her body, and Ichigo knew it was taking every ounce of her control to prevent her from pounding the two little men into so much Kidō Corps Dust.

“It makes sense in a way,” Kisuke said, his tone as noncommittal as ever. “The Shiba were the keepers of the gate to the Soul King’s palace. If he could destroy the clan--or get someone else to do it for him--it would remove one more of the barriers to his end goal.”

Isshin’s fingers were so tight on Ichigo’s shoulder that he was certain he was going to have a bruise.

“How many did you kill.”

The brothers looked at each other and then back down at the ground.

Ganju asked again, the pain in his voice undeniable. “How many did you kill?”

“I’m sorry.” The Miyake looked at him, shame in every line of their bodies. “It’s just that we don’t know for certain. Our father was a madman. He killed every Shiba he could get alone. He slaughtered… children. My brother and I didn’t have his conviction. But from what he said, I would estimate twenty-four or five.”

A strange warbling voice piped up from behind them. “Thirty-one.”

Shunsui turned so quickly that his pink kimono flared. “Who’s there?”

A woman--or almost woman--stepped out from behind Tessai. Her hair was long and black, pulled back in the style of many ages past. Her face was smooth, but her eyes held the weight of age.

“Greetings, Kyōraku-Soutaichou,” she said, bowing deeply. “I am sorry to have interrupted, but the answer to the question Shiba Ganju-san asked is thirty-one.”

Shunsui took a few sliding steps towards the newcomer, and Ichigo could tell that he was trying to assess what or who the woman was.

“I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” he bowed low, a rakish smile offsetting the weighing glance. “You know my name, but I do not know yours.”

Kisuke moved forward and held a hand out to the woman. “This is, Shiba Shiori, and others, but Shiba-san is the strongest soul present in the gigai, so she is who the body attuned itself to.”

“A gigai?” Shunsui looked surprised. “Why would one need a gigai here?”

It was a good question. Spirits had no limitations in Soul Society, but Shibas were always difficult like that.

“If I could ask Miyake-san one more question, it might make the explanation of the other factors of this situation a little clearer.”

The Soutaichou nodded his agreement, but Suì-Fēng frowned. “I don’t need any more information. These men have already admitted to mass murder, to the attempted destruction of a noble house.”

Kisuke hummed and the tiny woman vibrated with annoyance. Ichigo had a little sympathy for her. No one could annoy quite like Kisuke when he was in a mood.

“That is true, yes.” The blond had dragged his fan out from somewhere and was lazily waving it back and forth. “The devil is in the details, though. Miyake-san. Would you please tell the Soutaichou how you committed these killings?”

The older man sat back into his seiza, back straight, eyes forward as if he was braced for what came next.

“Aizen gave my father a tachi. I believe he stole it from the armory of the Onmitsukido. Nobody but the Punishment Corps has needs for that type of weapon.”

Shunsui stilled. “What type of weapon?”

“A Soul Stripping weapon.” The man seemed to collapse in on himself with the admission. “We didn’t just kill them. We destroyed them. Everything they were. Everything that was Shiba.”

Shiori laughed, a tinkling bell-like laugh that hid the edge of a knife. “Such ego. Your father had it, too. He couldn’t believe that I would choose someone other than him to share my life with. Couldn’t believe that his samurai legends wouldn’t be enough to lure a woman with twice his power into his bed. The fool.”

She held her hands out, and the long blue sleeves of her kimono spread like wings. “He tried to destroy us, but he made the mistake of the egotistical. He didn’t understand that he was dealing with a power greater than any of his samurai ancestors knew. He was dealing with Shiba. My husband was a good man. Our clan--my clan--has honor and power even after being targeted so shamefully.”

Tessai raised a hand. “Soul Stripping was one of the kidō that I outlawed in my time as Commander of the Kidō Corps. It was only to be used as the most extreme of punishments doled out by the Punishment Corps. Aizen took advantage of his access and liberated a few of the spelled weapons, including the one he gave to Miyake Rin.”

Shunsui and Suì-Fēng shared a look. “Where is this weapon now?”

“It is buried in the courtyard behind the main house of the Miyake compound. It has been buried there since my father killed himself with it.”

A low gasp was heard. He’d killed himself and destroyed his own chance of reincarnation because he couldn’t face what he had done, leaving his two sons to live with both his death and their own dishonor.

Shiori spat on the ground. “Ever the coward. Condemning his own children with his poison, and then taking the easy way out himself.”

Kūkaku walked over and stood shoulder to shoulder to the woman who wasn’t a woman. “You put it well. He was a coward, and if destruction was what he wanted, then that was what he deserved.”

The two women looked so much alike it was uncanny, even with Kūkaku’s wooden arm and Shiori’s unnaturally still face. Ichigo tried to imagine what it would have been like coming to a Soul Society full of Shibas. It would have been a much different place. He couldn’t imagine Rukia or the Visored being condemned to death. He couldn’t imagine them putting up with a lot of things. That was probably as much a reason why they’d been targeted as their role as gatekeepers.

“So, Aizen killed Kaien and Miyako, and then arranged the murders of all these other Shibas.” Ichigo watched the faces around him as he summed up what they were all thinking. “And since he’s back in Muken for another 20,000 years, that kind of puts a damper on the whole find the bad guy and punish him thing.”

The Miyake brothers were still kneeling in the center of the crowd, and Ichigo waved a hand in their direction.

“These guys weren’t even in their right minds when they were involved. I mean, Aizen managed to screw with everyone’s brains even after we knew he was a bastard. Two mid-range Kidō Corps members? They didn’t have a chance against him.”

Suì-Fēng looked outraged. “Are you out of your mind? They slaughtered a noble house!” She looked at the Soutaichou. “Surely you see they must be punished.”

Shunsui shifted his straw hat and looked at the surviving Shiba. “What do you all say? Is Ichigo right? Were they not responsible for their actions?”

For a moment Ichigo thought they were going to fight him, but in the end they didn’t disappoint.

“I once said that if the shinigami that killed my brother said one word of apology for their actions I would forgive them. She had much more control over her situation than you’ve had over yours.” Kūkaku chewed the end of her pipe and stared at the men on the ground at her feet. “I don’t like it, and I can’t say I like you, but I don’t blame you. Aizen is to blame, and perhaps your father for being an easy target to begin with, but not you.”

Ganju frowned at his sister and thrust both hands in his pockets. “Killing you won’t bring them back. Just don’t ask for more than that from me. I’m not as forgiving as she is.”

Isshin stood there. “I think I would like to hear what Shiba Shiori-san has to say.”

The gigai turned to him and bowed before answering.

“We Shiba fight. Face to face. With honor. Killing you would bring no honor. You are weak, but you are not our enemy. Aizen is our enemy. I look forward to the say that his soul is scattered to the ends of creation so that the Universe can make something better of the power he has wasted.”

“So,” the Soutaichou arranged his cherry blossom kimono carefully, “it seems to me that without the Shiba clan calling for blood, we really don’t have anything to pursue.”

Sui-Feng looked like she could bite through nails. Ichigo expected her to stomp her foot in anger. “As Soutaichou you have to…”

Shunsui cut her off. “As Soutaichou, I have to follow the laws handed down to me by Central 46, and do what I believe is right in situations where there is no clear law in place. And, as far as I am aware, you are not in a position to contradict me, Taichou.”

The Captain of the Second clenched her fists and inclined her head. “As you say, Soutaichou.”

Yoruichi sauntered over to the younger woman and put a long arm around her shoulders.

“Come along Little Bee,” she said, steering her protege away from the group with a smile. “Let us spar like we used to. I will let you exorcise some of your blood lust.”

She took two steps forward. “But you have to catch me first.”

Yoruichi disappeared in a flit of shunpo, and after a second of being clearly torn between staying and arguing with Kyōraku Soutaichou and chasing after her mentor, she gave into the inevitable and shunpo’d away as well.

The Miyake brothers stood shakily, and wiped tears from their faces.

“We can never undo the damage we have done to the Shiba. We know that. Your decision to allow us our continued freedom is worlds beyond anything we had a right to hope for.”

Kūkaku turned her pipe over and knocked the ash out against the heel of her sandal violently. “If you make a fuss about it, we might change our minds. It’s best if you just accept it and move on. I don’t want to stew in this sorry pot of misery any more than I already have, and I can’t believe any of the others do, either.”

Shunsui motioned the men to stand next to him. “I will escort these two back to their compound and retrieve the sword they described.” He tilted his head in a nod to Tessai. “I agree that such a thing should not be easily accessed. Or accessed at all. But that is a question for another day.”

He turned to Kisuke. “Will Shiba Shiori-san be staying with us? Or perhaps returning to the living world?”

Ichigo snorted. The man was a terrible manipulator. He quite admired that about the new Soutaichou. It made the maze of Seireitei much easier to navigate.

“Shiba Shiori-san has graciously agreed to allow me to konso her and the other souls with her. Tessai-san and I have altered the kidō necessary and we believe it will free them all to enter into the reincarnation cycle. They are Shiba, but some of them have been tied in a loop of suffering for fifty years now. They are tired and wish to find peace.”

The Soutaichou bowed deeply to the Shiba-spirit entity. “In that case, please allow me to say that it has been a pleasure knowing you. You have proven yourself to be as noble and as honorable as I know the Shiba to be.”

When he left, the gigai allowed itself to sag a little, and Kisuke led it to a low chair. “Is the reishi getting to you Shiba-san?”

The dark head nodded. “I am beginning to feel my grip slipping. I believe that if we are to make the konso successful, we need to do it now. I’m not sure I will be able to free the others if we wait any longer.”

Tessai stepped forward and handed Kisuke the white tachi, and with a minimum of fuss and a maximum of gentleness he touched the pommel to the gigai’s chest, right over where he had inserted the reishūkaku. And then, the gigai lost its features, sliding back into the blank slate it began as.

Shiba Shiori and the others were free.

Ichigo wasn’t ashamed to admit his eyes weren’t dry, but then no one else’s were either.

***

“Hey! Can someone come hold the door for a minute? My arms are full!”

Kisuke heard Ururu’s light steps as she ran for the back door. “Kurosaki-kun!” She sounded excited. She had missed Ichigo. “I didn’t know you were coming. Urahara-san didn’t mention it.”

Ichigo pushed in through the open door, a box in his arms, and toed off his shoes in the genkin. “I didn’t tell him. It was a surprise.”

A surprise? It most certainly was. After the trip back through the senkaimon Ichigo had collapsed, the exhaustion of it all finally catching up with him, but he’d headed home the next day and Kisuke had settled in to re-accustom himself to a quiet Shōten without Kurosakis and Shibas and even Shihōins for a while.

“Are you going to hold the door for your old man, Ichigo, or just leave me out here on the step like yesterday’s trash?”

Isshin’s voice boomed through the partially open door, and Kisuke’s eyes widened. What were they both doing here? Was something wrong with Ichigo again?

“Kurosaki-san,” he said lightly, coming around the corner to see the two men and Ururu wrestling with two bags and a large box. “Have you had a setback in your recovery? I have sent Tessai-san out for a few things, but he should be returning any time now and can run another diagnostic scan of the wound pathways. If we haven’t managed to seal them properly, we can try…”

“Oh yeah, Tessai knew I was coming. He said he’d pick up pork for two more, since Goat Face was helping me bring some things over and we’d be here for dinner.”

Tessai knew Ichigo was coming and was making extra dinner. That was… unexpected.

“And just what are these things you’ve brought?” he asked, trying to figure out what was happening.

“Oh books, clothes, my computer… you know, regular things.”

Ichigo carried his box down the hallway past Kisuke’s room until he reached a little store room at the end of the hall.

“I’m afraid I am still at a loss, Kurosaki-san.” He followed Ichigo into the small room only to realize that it had been cleaned out and a single futon folded in the corner. Apparently Tessai had kept more than just today’s extra dinner shopping from him.

“Don’t try to argue with him, Kisuke. You know what he’s like when he gets hold of something. You can’t change his mind no matter how hard you try.”

The blond looked at Isshin who had come up behind him and shook his head in confusion. “I am familiar with Kurosaki-san’s…”

“Ichigo’s.” The redhead interrupted.

“I’m sorry?” he asked, flustered.

“My name. Ichigo. You’ve used it before. No sense in stopping now.” He turned back to the room, stacking his few things on a low table against the wall. “I’m going to have to get a rod to hang my clothes on. I’m terrible with an iron. Easier if I just hang things out of the dryer.”

Isshin made a noncommittal noise. “I don’t know. A rod takes up a lot of room. It isn’t like you’re going to have to iron much. You only brought two pairs of trousers. The rest are jeans and t-shirts, and even Yuzu doesn’t iron those.”

Kisuke pinched himself. No. Not dreaming. Maybe he was having a stroke.

Ichigo caught a glimpse of the look on his face and took pity on him.

“Kisuke, it’s like this.” He moved to stand in front of the taller man. “Last year when I told you I had feelings for you, you made it very clear that I should get over my case of hero-worship before I came back. So, I have.”

Isshin had dropped the two bags he was carrying in the corner and slid past the others standing in the doorway. He patted Kisuke on the shoulder as he passed and gave him a look of commiseration.

“You have?” Kisuke latched on to the last thing Ichigo had said.

“Yup,” the young man nodded. “Totally over the hero-worship thing.”

Kisuke felt oddly disheartened by that. He’d wanted Ichigo to move on, he just didn’t realize how even just hearing the words would hurt.

“So, I am assuming you’re looking for a room to rent and Tessai has volunteered the Shōten?”

He hated feeling like he was missing something, but he definitely felt like he was missing something.

Ichigo moved closer and Kisuke imagined he could feel the warmth of him even at that distance.

“Not really,” he said, his voice a little softer. “It’s true that I’m over the hero-worship thing, but that’s only part of what I felt for you. A year hasn’t made that go away. Hasn’t faded it at all, actually. And, to top it off, this last catastrophe just reminded me how time can be stolen from us in the most bizarre ways. I don’t intend to let that happen to me. To us.”

Ururu appeared in the doorway with another small box, and Ichigo took it with thanks and put it on the table with the other things, before turning back to him. His expression was wide open, and Kisuke could see the intensity there, the sheer determination to make him understand, and he shivered a little at knowing he was that important to this amazing man.

“I know you.” Ichigo looked him in the eye until he had to look away. “Not Urahara Kisuke the hero. Not someone I’ve stuck up on a pedestal. Just you. Urahara Kisuke mad scientist, shinigami, and handsome candy store owner. And you know what? I love you. So, until you convince me that I’ve made a mistake, or I convince you that you’re wrong to not give us a chance, I’m moving in. I’ve arranged with Tessai to pay rent, and I am on the chore schedule for dinner twice a week and whatever random errands need to be run. I don’t intend to push you, and if it becomes clear I’m not wanted, I am reasonable enough to understand. I know that just because they labeled me savior of three worlds, doesn’t mean I appeal to everyone.”

Kisuke’s mind was spinning. He couldn’t mean this. Moving in? His father would kill them.

“Isshin, surely you…” he started but the older Kurosaki cut him off.

“I told you. You can’t reason with him when he gets this way. He could give stubborn lessons to a mule.”

Kisuke laughed in spite of himself. “Typical Shiba, hmm?”

Isshin shook his head. “Shiba? No way. This is Kurosaki through and through. Masaki could make a grown man weep with frustration when she got an idea in her head, and did, on more than one occasion.”

“So… you’re alright? With this?” He waved a hand at the room, and the boxes, unable to find the words.

“Kisuke,” the big man was serious for once. “I have watched you save Ichigo’s life. I think I can trust you with his heart.” Then he patted the blond enthusiastically on the back and grinned. “Plus, as an older more experienced lover you can teach him a few things in the bedroom I’m sure. I will have to buy a nice big bottle of that lovely almond oil Masaki used to…”

Ichigo moved between them and punched him. He laughed.

“My son! So strong in defense of his love! Your mother would be so proud.” He winked at Kisuke and then turned back to Ichigo in time to ward off another right hook. “I think that was everything you wanted to bring over. Send me a text if you’ve forgotten anything.” He tried to hug the redhead, but he just got a friendly cuff on the ear for his efforts.

“Thanks Goat Face,” Ichigo said, and he clearly meant it. “Tell the girls I’ll be back for dinner on Saturday, okay?”

Isshin agreed and let himself out, with a loud, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

And then it was quiet.

As soon as the door closed, Ichigo lost some of his bluster. “Look. I know this seems sudden, but after the whole thing with Shiori... I needed to take this chance. Do you remember when I first came back? It was crazy. I was so miserable, but walking through that door, listening to you talking to Tessai, hell, sleeping in blankets that smelled like you… I realized I hadn’t been that happy in a year. I don’t want to go another year denying what I feel. If that makes you uncomfortable, if you truly can’t see a future together, I’ll take my gear and go.” He laughed a little sheepishly. “That’s why I only brought one box of books.”

Kisuke looked at the little room, and then back to the man in front of him. It was time to stop hiding.

“I sent you away once. I told myself it was for your own good, but it was still the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” He leaned in and dropped the lightest of kisses on Ichigo’s lips, letting him feel how just that little act left him breathless and shaky. He stepped back and looked down into wide amber eyes. “I think we can make room for a few more boxes of books. Ichigo.”

Ichigo’s smile blazed at the sound of his name, and he slid his arms loosely around Kisuke’s waist. “That’s good. I have a lot of books. It may take some time to move them all in.”

Kisuke kissed him again and pressed their foreheads together, his heart more at peace than it had ever been. “That’s okay. We have time.”

#Bleach #UraIchi #happilyeverafter #ichigo kurosaki #Urahara Kisuke #ShibaLore

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