#i did say i'd rewrite it
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street-corner-felines · 5 months ago
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Zero Day (2002)
#movies film cinema#zero day#ben coccio#I actually talked to the director on Facebook super nice guy and he told#me a lot about the filmmaking process and even helped me with tips on directing non-actors and new actors#I remember him telling me to always be supportive and tell your new actors they're doing a good job even if they aren't in the first take#cause you can instill confidence and still reshape and change their choices and mistakes later#Sometimes I'd message him for advice when I was running into problems on some of my early projects#he told me once ''did ya choose to collaborate with this actor cause you were lonely or you guys had passion and chemistry''#“collaborating is like a relationship” and he was so right#there's nothing worse than working with people you disdain cause there's no communication and no trust.#he told me how he wrote the first couple of drafts of Place Beyond the Pines but his take on the 3rd act wasn't clicking for the director#so he took the script and went and had another writer rewrite the 3rd act but he liked the process cause he learned a lot and still got pai#but I'd still like to see Ben Coccio's take on Place Beyond The Pines he says the 1st and 2nd act are mostly unchanged#Ryan Gosling's scenes are still mostly the same he said but he couldn't tell me too much cause of the NDA he signed#The bloopers of Zero Day are hilarious his tip he gave me about being supportive#“This is actually great but can we-” and Cal interrupts him “He says that no matter what if you're doing good or bad!” and everyone lols#I hope I can make it and ask him to collab with me on a script#He's such a nice dude compared to the harrowing film he made.#I wish there was BTS but he had only one tape to film on and this was made when digital camcorders were infants#I think he had only one 2 hour tape that's how low budget#The bloopers is just Cal or Andre secretly filming and Ben getting annoyed “Is it recording?” and Cal going “Nah..."#Cal is such a funny guy IRL I wanna see him act more cause he's so good. He was so great at playing a sadistic psychopath in this.#the final shooting is so harrowing and disturbing#I told Ben he srsly gut punched me/disturbed me and this is what made him really open up.
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sisterdivinium · 1 month ago
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Little update for anyone counting: VtM doctor superion AU is still in rewriting phase. I'm at page 32 of 106 and it is the equivalent to page 52 (of X) in the new version.
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forcebookish · 4 months ago
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one of the things that has me nonstop thinking about topmew is that they're actually a very unique type of couple in fiction but not in real life. in most fiction, people are always falling in love by accident. they meet, circumstances put them together, they're caught by surprise when they fall in love. but though both top and mew had never been in love before and didn't totally know what to expect, it wasn't a complete shock. they met through a mutual friend, they found each other attractive and interesting, so they decided to date. they fell in love because they went on dates and did romantic things together on purpose. i think neither of them expected to fall so hard, but still, the point of dating is to see if you're compatible and fall in love and maybe build a life together. and that's what they did.
i don't think that makes them boring, i think that makes them relatable! i think that makes them stand out from other fictional couples! you know, people claimed they wanted more realistic BLs, but for some reason when topmew came along, a ship based on a real life gay couple, they didn't like them?
#topmew#i'm remembering those posts that were like 'top didn't mean to fall in love' and like. are you sure?#it's not like he thought he was incapable of love#i don't think top goes into relationships expecting to be bored#i think he just had a hard time finding someone who challenges him the way mew does#it sounds like guys weren't interested in who he really was but were more interested in his body or his money#i think it's ridiculous that mew and viewers are expected to think that top is unable to have a long term relationship just because#he hasn't had one at the age of TWENTY-ONE#how many long term relationships have you had mew? oh zero?#have YOU ever been with someone longer than three months? no? then why is top in the wrong?#you've never even had a boyfriend!!! at least top has had boyfriends!#how do you know that YOU have what it takes to be with someone for longer than three months?#also why does everyone insinuate that it was his fault and he broke it off every time#boeing says that top dumped him but based on boeing's whole personality i'd say he had a better reason than he 'got bored'#ofs liveblog#side-note: i love how boeing is framed as someone who was a big loss to sand and wronged by top when we see none of his good qualities#like am i supposed to take it at face value that he was a good boyfriend when he left someone because the other guy was rich and powerful#and then is creepy and mean to his ex who calls him when he's in distress and has only one friend#am i supposed to think that sand is justified in being pissed off that top 'stole him' when boeing is human garbage#i've said it before and i'll say it again: TOP DID YOU A FAVOR#so much about those relationships are so half-assed i'm sitting here like ok but what actually happened#can i get a rewrite here with some details
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payphoneangel · 11 months ago
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Vinny's 2023 fics!!
I'm so proud of all the writing I did in 2023!! I learned so much that I'm so excited to apply to my projects for 2024 <3
Not Whole, Not Holy Rating: Explicit Word count: 2,752
Moody, quiet, and introspective, this piece explores endverse!Cas and endverse!Dean finding a little bit of solace in each other among their crumbling world. Best described by the tag: Not hurt/comfort, not hurt/no comfort, but some secret third thing.
A Midsummer Night's Dean Rating: Teen+ Word count: 16,948
A wild ride of a casefic loosely based on Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. Featuring love potions, Dean having chronic foot-in-mouth-disease, Cas being SO down bad it's dangerous, and Sam wanting to be literally anywhere else but here. I've been told this fic has made people laugh so hard, it has awoken children and brought concerned family members a'knocking on doors.
Innervate A series currently containing two fics, with a few more additions planned! This series follows Cas' developing relationship to his body and how he navigates through the world with it. It's full of fun science and anatomy, alternate angel lore, and LOTS of UST between Dean and Cas (don't worry, it will get resolved... eventually lol. This is a series-long slow burn)
Check out Prelude as a sampler for vibes (full disclosure-- this was a WIP for a LOOOOOONG time so while this fic was uploaded in 2023 the writing is far older than that)
Then for a more cohesive story (and tbqh way stronger writing), pop on over to Ask Me Why My Heart's Inside My Throat
Spellbound Rating: Explicit Word count: 4,764
A one-shot exploring the Master/Apprentice relationship of Sam and Rowena. Let's be real here. They have insane magic sex and I feel like not enough ppl talk about it. EYE barely even scratched the surface with this one. The quickest summary I got for this one: Sam's cardinal virtue is that when a hot woman speaks, he listens.
Long Black Cloud Coming Down Rating: Gen Word Count: 3,540
Taking place prior to s1, teen!Dean has to act quick and think fast when Sammy suddenly comes down with a fever. He can't let his thoughts race too far though, or he just might start believing that whatever's going on is more than just a fever and a snow storm.
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hellogoodbyeitsme · 2 years ago
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Shigeo Saves The Cat
A Dive Into What The Cat Symbolises
During the Mogami Arc, Mogami had created a world in which Shigeo had no powers, and was hated by all the people he loved. In this cruel world, Shigeo was presented with a cat, and this cat died because he was unable to protect it.
During the car crash, Shigeo used his powers in public, to save the cat. He has, at this point, come to accept that his powers can be used for good, and that they're not just to be used in dire situations. He used them to help the others call a ufo, after all! That's pretty chill! For... you know, having super cool powers that you can do just about anything with.
Although he hasn't begun to use them for his own sake, he saw the danger coming, and was able to save the cat. [And, to a different extent, using his physical powers, saved the kid. But this isn't about the kid or the fact he used both sides of himself to save 2 different entities, haha]
Then he gets hit, and ??? takes the stage. He still rejects his powers as part of his personhood; (a conscious being made from his own repressed self) he can accept them as if they're a certain muscle in the body, or an extra limb, but only now is he able to see that this is a mental thing, not physical.
During the final arc, in large part thanks to Reigen (of course, also thanks to Hanazawa, Ritsu, and Dimple, but the point is Reigen's words are the ones to calm him down) this repressed self is accepted not as part of his body, the way the body is a case for the mind, but as part of himself. A part of his mind. Which he very much had been sealing up and repressing.
Then, in the after-part, Shigeo sees a cat, and assumes it's stuck. He acts, moving forward to climb the pole. He doesn't think anything like "it might be easier with psychic powers, but I should use the body I've been working on" or "I would rather use my physical body than my powers to save this cat" he simply moves. Not a single complicated thought goes through his mind. He acts. His powers are part of him; his body, his person, his ESP - all of it is him, and he simply did the most natural thing that came to mind. He climbed the pole using muscles he'd worked on, but not as opposed to his powers - just because it was the first response he came up with. [And as a muscle obsessed boy, it's unsurprising haha!]
But he does not save the cat.
Because the cat, regardless of him and his story, is just that. It's a cat. It's got nothing to do with him; it's neutral. It's an entity with its own path, it doesn't need him in order to survive. It's not on him to save or to protect it, not on him to do anything at all about it. It's on him just to want to act, to want to care. He's changed from a boy who was afraid to act at all, to one who acts without reservation.
And saving the cat was never his goal in the first place.
Tldr:
Mogami presented a cat that he needed to save, but that he was unable to save.
The car-crash presented a cat that needed saving, and that he was able to save.
And the finale presented a cat that, at the end of the day, has nothing to do with what he must do to live life to the fullest. He's just a teenage boy who has a girl he likes, and who goes to school like everyone else. His powers are just a part of him, nothing he has to pay the universe back for. There's no big magical destiny, no cats to save.
He can finally simply exist.
...
For now!! Dun dun dun...
I'm kidding.
Or am I?!
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see there’s kinda an issue with the doctors being named after the actor because hurt’s and martin’s doctors already have alternate names without a number plus then you have to use numbers anyway for tennant’s 3 doctors
I mean, I think the war and fugitive doctors having those unique names isn't necessarily an argument against just using the actor names, necessarily. I think it is v polite of them to fit into the catalogue of doctors without fucking up the numbering of the doctors.
Whereas if you consider stolen earth tennant doctor and journey's end doctor to be 2 separate doctors, well then you're just causing problems on purpose, aren't you,
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astridthevalkyrie · 8 months ago
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What old Hiccstrid story of yours are you most proud of?
none of them lol
uhhhh i'd say either crossroads or i knew you were trouble, not because i think they were particularly good fics, but they were still stories that i finished, and that's just something in itself.
my favorite hiccstrid oneshot is probably the one me and @athingofvikings worked on together and that's entirely because his writing definitely enhanced mine. like a video game powerup.
yknow what's crazy is my writing has not changed 😭 like i've definitely gotten better at description and dialogue and all, but the way i write is the same. every single time i write romance, if i'm not making it the most angsty thing in the world, i'm writing two people bullying each other.
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piningpercussionist · 11 months ago
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Is it true Scott Pilgrim can also play drums? I heard in his last band he played drums for awhile! Is he better or worse than you?
HA! SCOTT? GOOD on drums? Is he telling that to people, or did you hear this from somebody else?
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I mean, thinking back on it, I think Stephen might have mentioned Scott playing drums in their old college band with Envy? Neither of them really talks about it too much, least of all Scott- he used to freeze up and go catatonic at the slightest mention of her, so I've tried not to pry too much. It makes me feel weird seeing him like that.
Anyway, I'm only really gleaning what he volunteers, until he's entirely over that whole thing I guess. It feels a little awkward trying to get information out of Stephen about something like that, you know? Underhanded. Whenever he's ready to stop being a baby about it, he'll decide what he doesn't and doesn't want to share, and that's that. No matter how frustrating.
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Back to him and drumming specifically... I've caught him messing with my set before, and it was only definable then as a cacophony, so far as I'm concerned. And not the good kind, of which there are some. If he can play the drums, I've definitely got him beat, no contest. There's a reason I'm in the band, I guess.
... He could probably beat me in a video game based around them, though, if there are any. He's ridiculously good at those, and whenever I play those kinds of games it never feels like it's properly on beat. It drives me crazy.
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oveliagirlhaditright · 2 years ago
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I'm kind of sad that we didn't get the Buffy the Vampire Slayer leprechaun episode that the writers almost accidentally wrote. (Like, I guess Joss Whedon one time joked about wanting a leprechaun episode and the writers legit thought he was serious about it. And they were working on it, researching leprechaun myths and everything, and then he had to tell them that he'd been kidding.)
The closest thing we get to leprechaun in the Buffyverse is probably in the tie-in book (that's actually a "choose your own adventure book") "Colony." Where there seems to be something similar to a leprechaun, that Buffy keeps calling a leprechaun/comparing to a leprechaun. But it's not a leprechaun, because I guess leprechauns don't exist in the Buffyverse (part of me wonders if that was an inside joke about that aforementioned thing, but I have no idea. Probably not?) At least according to this tie-in novel.
#buffy the vampire slayer#part of me kind of wonders why NOT a leprechaun episode? we have other weird things. it could have potentially worked#and we could have tied in stuff with angel's home and past perhaps. idk. -shrugs-#side note: i love in the tie-in book buffy just seeing the leprechaun looking thing and getting all excited and going 'leprechaun!'#and angel in particular (i mean. the others kind of are too. like giles) just kind of shaking his head and going 'it's not a leprechaun'#and he knows because he fought the thing before. but i also wonder if it's because if leprechauns were real (which they aren't in this#story). they would have been in ireland according to legend. and angel grew up in ireland so he's like 'no buffy. no.'#anyway. now i'm reminded of how my sister and i. back in the day. always wanted a supernatural episode about dreamcatchers that never happe#*happened#i even started writing a fic about it more than a decade ago. i'd say i should have finished it--and i probably should have--but my writing#back then was so bad that even if i would have liked the story back#then by now i would hate said fic#and be wanting to rewrite it if nothing else#ANYWAY a dreamcatcher episode of supernatural in the early seasons would have been cool#you know... it would have been pretty great if the non-leprechaun thing in colony had somehow ended up being a leprechaun though.#thus proving buffy right#like maybe the other one angel had fought like it (or that he thought was like it) wasn't. but this one was. and thus everyone was wrong#that would have been a good twist and kind of funny. because it WAS leprechaun-y and i get why buffy was saying what she did i mean. lol#Oh. I should probably mention that the non-leprechaun thing in colony is a side thing. Not the main plot
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redhoodsjacket · 1 year ago
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My star wars fic: *is about mandalorian politics, is tagged as such, the entire plot revolves around the run for leadership, even has "politics" in the title*
Someone in my AO3 comments: mmh. it was interesting but too much politics for my preference
Me: 🥲
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larebiscornue · 2 years ago
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The wakfu origin story says armand was a teen when amalia was five so I checked the wiki and he was 21 in the first season according to it??
That makes his crush on then in s1 17 yr old Eva creepy..
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catman-draws · 2 years ago
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So are all lusus a little bit different to their Alternian counter parts? Because I’m wondering why moth mum is so small compared to Kanaya’s mother grub lusus?
Sorta!
So I did give all the dancestors different lusi- some vary more than others. Some are COMPLETELY different, while some are just lightly modified from their counterparts.
Firstly, I feel like the mother grub specifically makes sense to be Fuck Huge, given they're meant to do little more than help trolls reproduce.
Secondly, I REFUSE to believe that all these gigantic lusi would've been able to raise little baby grubs. It just doesn't make sense logistically.
Thirdly, it was a little accidental. While redesigning, I was trying to make them a little more reasonably sized (compared to their charge) and that just sorta ended up like that.
It's sorta retcon, sorta incidental. Don't think about it too hard.
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heich0e · 1 year ago
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i should move bff!osamu over to ao3 but that requires work
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crossbackpoke-check · 3 months ago
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Fixed point (mathematics) // The History of Perspective // "Point of Disappearance", Dennis Held // How the Hughes hockey family stays grounded // Fixed Point Photography-- // "Portrait of A.", Tung-Hui Hu // Mic'd Up | Hughes NHL 25 cover shoot // "Burnt Norton", T.S. Eliot // "Circuitry", Janine Joseph // Bruce Bennett // Nick Wass // from obedience [maybe one day, during a point in time], kari edwards // Bill Rapai // "Errand Upon Which We Came", Stephanie Strickland // Benchmark (surveying)
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art kid luke hughes
#joy i feel like i should’ve known it would be you wrecking my shit by saying this ->#no one tell me what it’s about i want to think about jack as a fixed point forever#like. please. please. why would you. & also why are these like miyazaki/indie coming of age documentary closed captions u know what i mean#anyway in a moment of brief insanity i thought about the devil!nico snapping his fingers to make jack first overall wherever he wanted#and the concept of things that would always have happened it’s just a matter of how you get there#no matter where your eye starts it always ends there no matter where your threads weave in the web of fate all the knots end up tied. fixed#(nolan going to vegas) it’s just the path you took to get there was a little different is all.#hi. it's me. five+ hours later. remember the brief aforementioned moment of insanity#yeah so we lost it in a completely different directions sorry?#if i had a nickel for every time i entered a hughes brothers induced narrative webweaving fugue state i'd have two nickels#which isn't a lot but relative to the amount i think about them kinda is and also it's weird it happened twice#also i'm not apologizing for hearing “art kid” with fixed point (one perspective? my googling of art terminology did not yield results.#luke baby girl i think you've got the wrong term.) and immediately jumping to science (math and ecosystem management) because. that's art#luke hughes#jack hughes#quinn hughes#vancouver canucks#new jersey devils#my cat would very much like for me to go to bed and snuggle however. i was possessed. (AND i just learned how to do small text)#so now all of you get to have worms for brain at 12:30AM too ok ily good night!!!!!#i lied actually i need to tell you guys things because number one EYE have no idea where this came from number two the things i do know#i have no idea if the red string meme it's all coming together points make any sense to anyone but me. SO FIRST#function defined by itself (43 superscript added by me) it's luke defining fixed point. he's cited.#perspective used to stage narratives!!! the history of perspective in art is honestly so interesting and i think actually this started#because i was trying to find a definition for fixed point in art and couldn't get one but found the article talking about#how historically perspective is used for geometric and architecture in paintings to add reality i.e. vermeer's squares#because our brains are SO hardwired to believe perspective “the illusion of geometric regularity and spatial recession... is nearly impossi#liv in the replies#said more but tumblr ate it bc it was too many tags & now we're on hour six i am not rewriting just know it was good. past/present/future l#it was not well articulated & i wanted to do perspective lines & also it could be better collaged but if it looks bad.. that's a u problem.
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dan-crimes · 1 year ago
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It's so funny trying to look back @ what my core knowledge of Sonic the Hedgehog games are and like I'm fairly sure I knew about the orca level, I knew abt the Chaos Emeralds and Sonic (obviously) as well as Amy having a crush on Sonic and Tails being like a little kid and I knew abt Eggman and that he wanted the Chaos Emeralds to power his machines and that he was in this egg shaped ship thing
Not sure about anything else tho like if I had any other knowledge of the characters (before joining the Internet) the only reason I remember that I knew that prior to anyone else telling me stuff besides my main irl source is bcuz I would imagine stuff abt Sonic and Friends based on certain songs and I know those were like the base components while imagining that stuff :P
#I only ever did it with Sonic? and it was like only a few songs it wasn't even like I was doing it with tons of songs#I guess I've always been particular about that kinda stuff the vibes gotta fit#anywayyy I might be bending my own rules a bit about the whole Sonic stuff#I'm watching like hours of people talking about Sonic but still not technically watching thru gameplay sooo#still technically don't know stuff... technically#I'm very much a come to my own conclusions type so I would actively have to see the gameplay for myself to have my own opinions#otherwise I'm just kinda adding information to my head bank#but not really forming an emotional attachment for it#since I'd gotta see it personally first hand#I trust people to tell me info but I don't trust people's opinions cuz watch 3 different videos with the same topic and they all have#different opinions about the same game lmao#plus in general I am easy to please so I might like more stuff that others don't and also in terms of characterization#everyone has their own way of viewing that shit too so the stuff I could see people sayin abt these characters could be just totally wrong#or right in their own sense! but maybe not MY sense :P#and maybe we'll never know 👻👻👻 cuz I'm trying to stay away from that still lmao#I will say finding out like super random shit that I've never seen ppl talk abt and prolly no one cares or thinks abt#and becoming really interesting in that to the point of wanting to draw it is very funny to me bcuz very typical of me huh#if you know the human Sonic comic just know that I do NOT like it but I do in the sense of like I could fix you#purely style wise but also they for sure could have told a better story there was some potential there I#I'm sure I swear Tumblr stop cutting me off ANYWAY maybe I'm not the best to rewrite it obviously but like I could still see ways#for it to be improved from a general standpoint lmao
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soaps-mohawk · 6 months ago
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 23: Regrets
Summary: Depression: a common mental health condition characterized by a low mood or loss of pleasure or interest in activities for long periods of time. 
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 9,940
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, mental illness, depression, very heavy emotionally, angst, Johnny gets his feelings hurt (but only for a moment), angst, everyone is having big emotions, Bella Swan-esque sad montage, angst, kissing, slight suggestive content, angst
A/N: Did I completely rewrite part of this during the editing process? Yes. Are you going to thank me for that? Also yes. I'm trying something a bit different with this chapter, so let me know what you think. It probably won't be a regular thing, but I just thought I'd give it a test and this chapter was the perfect time to do that.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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They say you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. 
They’re right. There’s a hole in your chest, an empty void. The squeaking of your shoes on the tiles sounds far away as you numbly walk back towards your room. 
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks cautiously as you pause in front of your door long enough to turn the handle.
You turn to look up at him, his brows pinched and his eyes shining with concern. “He's gone.” Your voice cracks and shakes, breaking over the words like you're speaking the finality of the situation. 
You are. 
“I know.” Johnny reaches out, his fingers wrapping around your arm. “I wish there had been more warning, but this is usually how his solo assignments go.” 
You swallow thickly. “He'll come back, right?”
Johnny grimaces. “Ye know I can't promise that. But, there's no one quite as capable in the field as him, except maybe Price.” Johnny squeezes your arm gently. “He’s been doing this for a long time, kitten. Have faith in that, and his skills.” 
Johnny’s words do nothing to help the turmoil inside you, the fear and anxiety. One split second mistake, one wrong decision and you know it could be over. Everything could be over before it even started. Why didn’t you confront him sooner? Why didn’t you pick up on his true feelings, his emotions as quickly as he seemed to decipher yours? It’s not fair that they can be taken from you so easily and so quickly. There’s no room for argument, no room for any begging or pleading for them to stay. They have a job, and they’ll always choose that job over you. 
“Ye gonna be alright?” Johnny asks, letting his hand fall from your arm as you push open your door, entering your room before closing it in immediately, clicking the lock into place. You lean against the door for a moment, biting your lip to try and stop the tears as you begin to shiver from the dampness of your clothes. 
You leave your shoes in a pile next to the door before you pad silently to your bathroom, stripping off your clothes once you hit the tile. You’re shivering, a cold chill starting to seep into your very bones as you start the tub, letting it fill with water. The tears blur your vision, dripping into the steaming water as you sink into the bath. You can’t stop the tears as you sit there, not caring how hot the water is, not caring how it makes your skin feel like it’s on fire. You’ll take the pain, the discomfort. Anything to ease the pain that’s ripping your chest wide open.
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It hurts, he won’t lie, when you close the door in his face. Well, it wasn’t entirely in his face. He was a foot away from the door, but it still causes a little ache in his chest, a little upset in his mind that you just cut him off like that. The click of the lock is like a finality, the gavel falling on your decision to distance yourself for now. 
The rejection of his offer for comfort has his beta stirring uncomfortably in his mind. Tears fill his own eyes as he stares at the handle of your door, wishing he could reach out and grab it, fling it open and take you into his arms and hold you until you stop crying, until the pain of Simon’s sudden absence goes away. 
“Come on.” John says quietly, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “Give her some time.” 
He lets John lead him away from your door and back towards the rec room. He shouldn’t be so hurt by your abrupt dismissal. You were quite obviously upset, upset enough to run out into the rain after Simon. He saw you race out the door, his stomach clenching in worry, but thankfully the rain had forced most inside. There was little threat to you, not with Simon there, but he had been worried you might not be able to catch him, that you might run blindly into the rain to try and find him. 
He had spotted the tears trailing down your cheeks as you walked back to the barracks, mixing with the rain that soaked straight through you. He’s used to his alpha having to leave suddenly, the distance and the worry are second nature now thanks to their jobs, their lifestyles. You’ve never been through this before with him, though, and so soon after the two of you were finally beginning to give in. It’s like a curse. They begin to get close to you, and then suddenly they’re ripped away. 
He almost feels guilty, like he’s responsible for your pain. If he hadn’t forced it, if he hadn’t put you both in that position, maybe you wouldn’t be so upset. He couldn’t have known, though, that Simon would be called away like that. It could happen at any time, they all know that. They always have to be ready, always have to be prepared to be called out. Even on leave they can’t guarantee there won’t be an emergency. It’s just the nature of their job. 
It wouldn’t have bothered any of them before you. 
“She didn't take it well, did she?” Kyle says as John guides Johnny to sit on the couch next to him. 
“Christ, she's so upset.” Johnny says, leaning his head in his hands. “If I hadnae pushed them, then this wouldn't have happened.” 
“You couldn't have known this was going to happen.” Kyle says, squishing Johnny between him and John to try and comfort the upset beta. 
“We didn't even know until a couple of hours ago.” John says, draping his arm across the back of the couch.
“If she's this upset at one of us leaving...how upset was she when we all left?” Johnny says, his stomach churning at the thought. No wonder you were so shaken when they came back. 
“The best thing we can do right now is leave her alone and let her do what she needs to do.” John says, pulling Johnny so he's resting against his chest. “She'll come out when she's ready.” 
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The afternoon comes and goes, the rain slowing to a light drizzle. You still haven’t left your room, sealed inside, secluded from them. Johnny casts the closed door a wistful look every time he walks down the hallway, half tempted to try the knob and see if it’s been unlocked, but he stops himself. The last thing you need is to be scared by someone trying to get in. John is right. You’ll come out when you’re ready. 
John knocks on your door as they get ready to head to dinner, waiting a moment for some type of response. “We’re going to dinner, sweetheart.” He says through the door when there’s no answer to his knock. “Do you want us to bring you something?” 
There’s a quiet noise from your room, some muffled response to John’s question.
“We’ll be back soon.” John says, somehow able to make out what it is you said. Or maybe his plan was to bring you something regardless of whether you agreed or not. 
It feels strange, just the three of them walking to the mess. It’s not the first time they’ve gone just the three of them, but it feels different this time. It’s not Simon’s missing presence that weighs so heavily, it’s yours. 
There’s a tenseness that’s settled over them as they sit at the table, avoiding eye contact with each other.  Simon’s empty space at the table wouldn’t have felt so much like an empty chasm if you had been there to fill some of it. 
They’re not sure what to do, the feeling similar to what they felt upon their return. They knew it would be bad, but they hadn’t expected you to be in shambles like you were. Their pack mate is hurting, their omega is hurting, and there’s nothing they can do. They don’t know what to do. Johnny wants to kick in your door, rush into your room and envelop you in a hug so tight you’ll complain that you can't breathe. He just wants to help you, but that’s not what you want, what you need right now. 
He knows it’s his beta instincts, his need to comfort and soothe and support. If Kyle is feeling the same way, which Johnny knows he has to be, he’s hiding it well. Though, perhaps that’s just for his sake and John’s. He can’t even imagine what John is going through, knowing his omega is suffering in such a way. 
All because Simon is gone. 
How easily one missing piece could tear the pack apart. If something happened to one of them, or god forbid something happened to you, they might not be able to recover. They had always assumed their training would win out, that they could move past it in the way they would had there been nothing but the bonds of camaraderie between them. 
How silly that idea had been. 
It’s no secret death disrupts pack stability, shakes the bonds that tie a pack together. He remembers how his Grannie’s death had shaken his family for weeks and it had taken months to return to what could be considered normal after a partially expected death of a member of the pack. What kind of damage would an unexpected and sudden death do to a pack? 
Johnny shakes the thought from his head. There was always a risk. They all knew that, they all agreed to that when they signed up. He knows Simon is highly skilled, well accustomed to working alone, to completing solo assignments successfully. The risk of something happening was always high, but he trusts Simon and puts faith in his skills. 
John goes back through the line once they finish, making a tray for you and piling it high as usual. It always makes him happy to see how well cared for you really are. Despite the circumstances of you being added to their pack, he knows it could have been so much worse. There’s worse packs, worse alphas out there. At least with them, you’re an equal. You’re their precious omega, and they’d make anyone who threatened you regret that decision. 
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John is surprised the handle turns when he tries it. You’ve gotten up at least, but he’s not surprised to find you back in the same place you’ve likely been all day. He closes the door behind him before moving to your bed, setting the tray of food down on your nightstand. You squint as he flicks the lamp on, reaching up to rub your eyes. The bed dips as he sits on the edge, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. 
“I know this is hard for you.” He says softly, brushing his fingers across your bare arm. Your skin is warm, likely from being burrowed under the blankets. “I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now.” 
“He's gone.” You say quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. 
“Just for a while.” He says. “He’ll be back.” 
“But you can’t promise that.” You argue, pushing yourself up to sit. Your cheeks are still damp with tears, eyes red and lips still trembling. 
“There’s always a risk,” He says softly. “But you have to trust Simon. He’s not going down without a fight.” He sighs quietly as your gaze drops to your hands, your fingers picking at the skin around your fingers. He slips his hand into yours, stopping you from continuing. “What’s eating you?” 
“I should have told him.” You sniffle, your eyes on his hand as your fingers close around it. . 
“Told him what?” He prods gently, curiously. 
“That I love him.” You say, lifting your gaze to look at him. “I should have said it but I didn’t and now what if he doesn’t come back? I love all of you, and I don’t want you to leave, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” The words end in a sob, tears sliding down your cheeks again. 
Your words take him by surprise. It’s no secret how they feel about you, how their feelings have grown from curiosity to companionship to attraction and now to love. All of them have come to love you in their own ways, even Simon in his resistance wasn’t immune to his feelings, to their shared feelings towards you. 
“Look at me.” He cups your face gently, his thumbs wiping the falling tears. “I wish things didn’t have to be this way, I wish they hadn't picked us to be first for this. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to put you through this. I wouldn't change having you as my omega, but forcing you to live like this, to be left behind with the worry over something none of us can control.” He shakes his head. “It was a selfish decision by those who created the initiative.” 
“What...what happens if the initiative fails?” You ask softly. 
“We’re not giving you up.” He says, holding your gaze. “We wouldn’t want to, and we wouldn’t let it happen. You’ve been part of this pack since the day you stepped foot on this base. We wouldn’t have let you go then, and we sure as hell won’t now.” 
Your breathing is shaky as you stare at him, and he can see the wheels turning in your head, the hesitation as you debate whether you want to speak. He hates that you still feel this way, that you have to hide your thoughts from them out of fear or worry that they might be angered by them. He’s not sure there’s anything you could say that would anger him. 
“Would you ever leave for me?” You speak the words slowly, hesitantly, like they might bite you if you're not careful. 
He's not expecting it, though he has wondered if you'd ever ask it of them. If it might come to be too much and it leaves you no choice but to ask, to give them the ultimatum. He lets out a breath, all the answers he'd thought up in response gone as he sits face to face with you, as he faces this question out in the open for the first time. Tears are gathering in your eyes as you stare at him, taking his silence as second thoughts, as possible rejection. 
“Please be honest with me.” You whisper shakily, a tear slipping down your cheek. 
He watches its path as it slides down your cheek, pausing at the line of your jaw before it drips down onto your shirt. He lifts his gaze back to yours, the pain in them stabbing straight into his heart. He wants to say yes, that he'd leave in a heartbeat, give up what he'd worked his whole life to achieve, all for an omega. His omega. 
He wouldn't be able to sleep at night, knowing the kind of evils that exist in the world, the kinds of threats that linger in the dark. The evils that may pose a threat to you and his pack. You’ll never be truly safe, not so long as there’s others who know of your existence. Very few of them he’d truly trust with the knowledge that you pose a threat to their efficiency as a team, a weakness that could be exploited. 
What bloody fucking fools they were, leaving you alone like that. 
“Part of me wants to say no,” He admits honestly, ignoring the flash of pain in your eyes. “But it would depend on the situation. If your life was ever in danger because of us, then without question. If the initiative fails, if we can't adjust, then we may have no other choice.”
“The job comes first.” You say quietly, sounding defeated. 
“But there may come a time when it doesn't.” He says, trying to reassure you. “Don't worry about that too much right now.” He brushes a hand over your hair. “If a situation arises, then we'll talk about it further.” 
He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You lean into him, letting out a quiet breath. He pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly. 
“I love you too.” He says, his lips brushing the top of your head. “And Simon knows how you feel.” 
You shift in his arms, pulling back just slightly to stare up at him. Your brows are pinched as you stare at him. “What do you mean?”
“Simon is very good at reading people. Their scents, their emotions, their body language. Years of training paired with his own natural abilities.” He smiles softly at you. “He knows how you feel.” 
“Oh,” You say, shrinking into yourself. 
“He'll likely convince himself it's not true, knowing him and how he thinks. You'll have to tell him to make him believe it.” He pats your leg under the blankets. “Don't worry too much about him. He'll be back before you know it.” He pushes himself up to stand. “Eat your dinner. We'll be around if you need anything.” 
“John?” You ask, stopping him before he can leave. 
He turns back around to face you. “Yes?”
“Thank you.” You say. “For everything.”
A small smile pulls at his lips. “Of course.”
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You're just stepping out of the bathroom when the knock sounds on your door. You had gotten up to rinse your face with cold water, your skin starting to feel tight and itchy after nearly an entire day of uncontrollable tears. You freeze at the sound of knuckles tapping on the wood, your heart leaping into your chest. Is it one of the guys coming to tell you bad news? Has something happened to Simon? 
Or is he coming back already? 
You’re half scared, half hopeful as you make the short journey across your room to the door. You feel like you’re moving in slow motion as your fingers close around the handle, slowly pulling it open. 
Johnny is standing on the other side, his face a mix of worry and sadness. It doesn’t help the despair already starting to manifest in you. Something must have happened to Simon. Something’s gone wrong. He’s not coming back, or they’ll have to leave to help him. 
“Ye doin’ alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, his brows furrowing as he stares at you. 
“Yeah.” You can’t help but wince at the way your voice cracks around the word. You sniffle, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. 
“I have somethin’ for ye.” He says, his hands fiddling with the fabric he’s holding. You hadn't noticed it before now. “I was gonnae do Simon’s laundry, but I thought ye might want this.” 
It’s one of Simon’s shirts he’s holding out to you, one of the black standard cotton t-shirts he often sports. Your fingers tremble as you take it, bringing the fabric to your nose. You don’t care that it’s dirty, having likely been soaked in sweat at one point. You inhale deeply, nose pressed into the fabric. It smells of soap and deodorant and him. Tears well in your eyes as you take in the scent, almost as if you’re getting it directly from the source. 
You’re moving before you realize it, your arms wrapping around Johnny’s middle. He seems almost surprised by your action, his body tensing for a second before it relaxes, his arms wrapping around you. 
“Thank you.” You murmur against his chest, a couple tears slipping from your eyes. You’re so tired of crying, but you can’t stop. 
“Yer welcome, kitten.” He says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Ye need anythin’...” 
He leaves the other half unsaid, but you know what he means. You’re hesitant to pull away from him, wanting to just stand there and cling to him until Simon returns, but you know he’s busy. Eventually he’ll have to leave you too. You’re not sure you could handle watching him leave your nest, close your door behind him as he’s forced away to do his job. 
Your door clicks as you shut it, holding Simon’s shirt to your chest. You’re tempted to wear it, to slip it over your head and bathe yourself in your scent, but you know if you do that, his scent will just fade faster and become overwhelmed by your own. The desire to bury yourself in it is strong, let his scent sink into your body and overwhelm your own. 
Your eyes pass over the giant bear sitting in your desk chair before snapping back to look at it. An idea begins to form in your head as you set the shirt on your bed. 
You grab the bear, hauling it to your bed and sitting it on the edge. You pull the shirt over its head, stretching the neckline slightly. The shirt is slightly baggy on the bear, but you don’t care as you maneuver it so it’s laying on the bed, trying to picture Simon in its place. It would be a tight squeeze, but then again it always is with any member of your pack. Their bodies don’t leave much space on the narrow mattresses by themselves, much less with you curled up with them. You can’t help the stirring in your chest, the yearning for more space, for a bed big enough to fit all of you at the same time. Big enough for Johnny to starfish himself comfortably, for you to escape the inescapable suffocating heat of their bodies that will build up inevitably. 
Tears burn behind your eyes as you crawl onto the mattress, draping yourself across the giant bear. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you press your face into the shirt, pretending it’s Simon you’re laying against. You can almost feel his arms wrap around you, holding onto you like you might disappear if he lets go. You squeeze your arms tighter around the bear, letting Simon’s scent seep into your mind and take away your fear and your worry and your pain for a little while. 
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It’s two days later when you finally leave your room. You’ve managed to stop the onslaught of tears, calming down enough to exist without being a weepy mess. There’s still an ache in your chest, though, the gaping hole that won’t close. A piece of you is missing, a piece you hadn’t even noticed was there until it was ripped out of you suddenly and violently. Your hug with Johnny had been the first time it had felt less intense, the aching abating just slightly. 
They’ve just returned from their afternoon training, earlier than usual meaning they have some downtime before dinner. You can almost tell where he is before you leave your room, following the sounds of the TV. Your steps are slow and quiet, the cold tile biting into your bare feet as you approach the rec room. 
He’s seated on the couch, spread out as usual. His eyes flicker to you as you hesitate in the doorway, tugging at the hem of the baggy shirt you’re wearing. You’ve long forgotten whose it is, the name on the tag worn off and all hints of scent erased by the many times you’ve worn and washed it. The thought tugs at the hole in your chest. Eventually Simon’s shirt won’t smell like him anymore, faded and rubbed away by time and your own scent. 
“Hi kitten,” He says, breaking the silence between you. 
You let out a shaky breath before entering the rec room, approaching him. You can tell he’s expecting you to sit next to him, to curl up against his side by the way he moves his arm, but instead you straddle his lap, all but throwing yourself against his chest. He grunts quietly in surprise, his arm instinctively wrapping around your back. You lay your head on his shoulder, going limp in his hold. 
It doesn’t fix the hole, doesn’t remove the ache entirely, but you can feel it start to lessen as you sit there, getting as close to Simon as you possibly can through his beta. You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt. He wraps his other arm around you, holding you tightly as his scent begins to project around you. Nothing is said, but nothing has to be. He knows what you need, and he doesn’t even have to use his instincts to figure it out. 
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A week goes by without a word from Simon or even about him and how he’s doing. You return to your normal routine in a numb, almost dazed state. You follow the rest of your pack around like a lost puppy, going to meals and following them to training when John allows, withdrawing back to your room like a recluse when you can’t. You sit in the rec room with them in the evenings, but you feel far away, distant from them and reality. You stare at the TV, but all you can see are blurry moving shapes. You can’t even read, often finding yourself staring at the cover until the words mesh and blur into something else. 
You never thought the distance could feel like this. You almost miss the fear of them all being gone. At least that had made you feel something. 
You see Dr. Keller twice as usual, both appointments unproductive as you fight to force some kind of life into yourself to drown out the numbness that’s settled. You’re far away, distracted from everything. Even food tastes different, more mushy and flavorless than usual. 
They’re worried about you. Even in your numb state you can tell that. John hovers closer, allowing you to follow them more than he probably should. It’s not like you’re paying much attention to what they’re doing, seated far away from anything that might put you at risk as you stare up at the sky, or off at the trees in the distance. Even when you’re inside, your gaze is far away, never quite focusing on anything. 
Johnny and Kyle keep you close as much as they can, squishing you between them on the couch or when you walk to meals. They’re always touching you, holding your hands, brushing your skin, wrapping their arms around you. They’re trying to comfort you, and it works for a little bit, not even your numbness impervious to a beta’s soothing presence. They hold onto you like they’re trying to keep you grounded to the earth, like you might float off and disappear into space if they don’t. 
You don’t sleep well, electing to sleep in your room every night. It’s a vast difference to what you had been doing, avoiding your room as much as possible. You’re seeking out the safety of your nest, a comfort only it can provide despite everything that’s happened. You feel bad for pushing them away, keeping them at a distance, but at the same time, you don’t care. 
You just want Simon back. 
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“I’m worried.” 
“I know. I’m surprised you didn’t come here sooner.” 
He feels strange, sitting in Dr. Keller’s office alone. It’s not the first time he’s been here, spoken to her about you. After their return from their first assignment, he had sat with Dr. Keller and gone over everything that had happened during their absence, or at least as much as she could tell him. Anything you talked about was considered confidential, but at least she could tell him if there were any issues or incidents. 
“She’s depressed.” Dr. Keller answers before he can even ask. “It’s not uncommon for omegas to become depressed after separation. Even when there’s necessary splitting of a pack into a satellite, there’s a risk for all omegas to develop depression because of it.”
He should have known. He’s seen it happen to soldiers, when the blood staining their hands grows to be too much and they begin to recluse in their own bodies, becoming empty shells of who they were before. You’ve become a shell, a body simply existing out of necessity. 
“What can we do?” He asks, unable to keep the mask up, to hide his concern and fear. 
“Not much more than you have been.” She says. “Keep supporting her, reminding her that you’re there. There’s an adjustment when a bond begins to weaken. Omegas are especially susceptible to it, and with how strongly connected and aware of her instincts and emotions she is, it’s going to affect her more.” Dr. Keller sighs, leaning her arms on her desk. “I don’t think anyone has ever taught her how to balance or even use those purebred instincts. Institutes are supposed to, but from what we know, they teach subservience over anything.” 
John shifts in his seat. Of course no one would have cultivated those abilities. It would have made you too aware, made the risk of you being able to manipulate them too high. Your job was to serve them above all else, so why would those teaching you want to give you that ability? Those instincts would have made you a perfect omega, able to pick up on the slightest changes, the needs of your pack. Yet, if you became too aware of your own abilities, it would give you too much power over them. That’s the one thing institutes don’t want...an omega that knows how powerful they are. 
“How do we teach her?” He asks. 
“I can help her with balancing those instincts and emotions, but only someone who knows can really teach her how to be successful at using them.” 
“Simon.” He says, the pieces beginning to come together. 
“If he didn’t know how before, his military training would have cultivated those instincts. That’s why purebreds are so sought after by militaries. Of course, it’s a bit different for alphas and omegas, but you are two sides of the same coin.” Dr. Keller smiles. “She’s smart. She’ll begin to figure it out on her own once she’s aware she can do it. In the meantime, just keep doing what you’re doing. If there’s some way she can talk to him or get in contact with him, that may help alleviate some of the depression.” 
He knows it won’t be likely, but if it will help you, he’s willing to take that risk. “I’ll see what I can do.” 
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He stands outside your door, staring at the knob. It’s late, his eyes burning from exhaustion. He’s stressed, not just from the day to day stressors of his job, but your obvious pain and discomfort has been affecting him. It’s affecting all of them. Kyle and Johnny’s times on the course have slowed, their aim is off, and he knows they’re not sleeping well either. 
Even with you beginning to return to your normal routine, your distance from them has proven to affect them more than your presence. Even with you around them, your numbed, absent state has disrupted their abilities to function, to exist as a normal pack. He’s relayed the sudden change to Kate in an attempt to prove his decision not to leave you alone is the right one, and it will help his case should they decide to try and separate you from the pack. 
He can’t think of a reason why they would now. The bonds are too strong. The separation of just one of them has proven to disrupt the bonds between all five of you. He can only imagine how Simon is feeling, being apart from everyone. It’s never bothered him before, but that had been before your presence. If Simon was incapable of fulfilling his duties and performing the task he had been assigned, they would have forced him out of the field and sent him back by now. 
Perhaps your fears were right and Simon isn’t as in love as John thought he was. 
He shakes the thought from his head. He’s seen the way Simon looks at you, the obvious change in his demeanor since your trip to town, the changes that have happened in your demeanor around him. Simon cares for you deeply, more than just as an alpha in your pack. 
He tries the handle of your door, surprised again when it opens. He might have thought you’d start locking it at night again with how much you’ve regressed. Maybe this was your silent plea for help, for comfort, for something other than the emptiness inside you. He slips into the room, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light of your nightlight in the corner. He can’t see you except for your arm tossed around the giant bear. It’s wearing a black shirt, likely the one Johnny had given you. It was a good decision, offering you at least an extension of the missing alpha. 
He approaches the bed quietly, not wanting to startle you. He doesn’t want to climb over you either, but he knows moving the bear will wake you. Perhaps you’re exhausted and sleeping hard enough he won’t disturb you. 
He picks the lesser of two evils, lifting the bear. He curses silently when your body shoots up as soon as the bear slips from your grasp. 
“No!” You shout, almost like an angry child having their toy taken away. It’s a desperate sound, a shocking one, ringing loud in the silence. You’re reaching for the bear, trying to tug it from his hands. 
“Easy, easy.” He says, putting his hand on your arm, your movements slowing to a stop as his touch brings back to reality. “I’m just moving him.” He shifts the bear to your other side, your body rolling to follow it. 
He climbs into the bed, barely managing to fit on the mattress. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you and the bear, but he’ll manage it. He’s slept in tighter places. He slips an arm under you, the other reaching across you to settle on the bear. 
“Tight squeeze with the three of us.” He says quietly, trying to ease some of the tension. 
“Need bigger beds.” You murmur, voice slightly muffled from where your face is pressed against the bear. 
He chuckles quietly. “I won’t argue with that. Perhaps someday.” 
You shift slightly at his words, obviously not expecting him to continue your conversation from earlier this week. He normally tried to avoid thinking too far into the future. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up for something he might never get to have. Or, at least he used to feel that way. 
Things have changed. 
“I used to think this job would be all I did.” He continues, speaking almost to himself. “I’d never grow old enough to retire. Someday I’d die in the field and that was good enough for me. Then, of course, things changed. Had those three other muppets to worry about.” He slips his arm from the bear to wrap around your stomach. “Then another little muppet got added. Now I’m thinking about a nice little cottage by the sea, big enough for five, with a nice flower garden in the front. Just a short walk to the beach, where we can sit and watch the sun set.” 
“White picket fence dreams.” You say quietly. 
“Or at least the British equivalent of that.” He says, a smile tugging at his lips. 
You shift slightly in his arms, pressing back against his chest as you turn as far as you can. “You mean it?” 
“Of course.” He says, his thumb gently rubbing your stomach through your shirt. “Things have changed. Priorities have shifted, and not just for me.” 
He presses his forehead against the side of your head, breathing in the soft scent of your strawberry body wash and the new vanilla scented shampoo Johnny had gotten you. There’s a faint hint of leather beneath your scent, the smell rubbing off from Simon’s shirt you dressed the bear in. He can almost imagine Simon in place of the bear, both of their arms tangling around you as they surround you and keep you safe from the outside world. Just a moment of peace in the hectic violence and chaos of their lives. 
“John?” You say quietly, pulling him from the edge of sleep that had settled in his mind. 
He hums quietly in response, forcing himself back to consciousness again. 
There’s a moment’s pause, a second of silence, and for a moment he wonders if you’re going to speak at all. “Don’t let go.” You finally say, your voice quiet and broken in the silence. 
“Never.” He says, tightening his hold around you. 
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John's phone ringing drags you from the light sleep you had managed to slip into. It hasn't been long since you drifted off you think, but then again, it's hard to tell. It's still dark out, and you're still in the same position. John lets go of you to reach for his phone on your nightstand barely managing to grab it at the awkward angle he’s at. 
His voice is rough with sleep as he answers. “Hello?” 
It's quiet for a moment. You can't hear much aside from a male voice on the other side. You can't tell who it is or what they're saying. 
“Good to hear.” He says, slipping into the Captain again. 
Something stirs in your stomach as you try to listen, try to catch who it is. Just one word, just one hint. 
“I'm sure.” There’s another pause, this one feeling like a lifetime. “I have someone here next to me that would like to talk to you too.”
You nearly elbow John in the stomach in your frantic attempt to turn over. You yank the offered phone from his hand as you lean the top half of your body on his stomach. “Hello?” Your voice wavers as you say it, the emotions beginning to stir within you again. 
There's a second delay before you hear it. “Hello, love.” 
You nearly cry at finally hearing his voice again, the pet name causing a fluttering in your stomach. You've never heard him call you that before. “I missed you.” You finally say, managing to get the words out. 
“That's what I'm hearing.” He says, and you can imagine the lifting of his cheeks under the mask, the slight crinkle of his eyes as he smiles. 
“When will you be back?” You ask. 
“Soon. Won't be much longer.” He says. 
“Be careful.” You say, your breathing shaky. “You better not come back hurt.” You're not sure you could handle it if he came back on a stretcher, or even with a single bandaid. 
“Yes ma'am.” He says seriously, but you can hear the humor in his tone. “I'll try my best.” 
“Good.” You say, wanting to lay there, to listen to him breathing for a while, just so that you know he’s really there, he’s really alright. You know you can’t though, your fingers shaking as you pass the phone back to John. 
He speaks to Simon for a couple more minutes while you lay across his stomach, listening to the rumble of his voice in your ear. Relief is flooding through you after hearing Simon's voice. He's really alright, he's fine, he's coming home. 
“You alright, sweetheart?” John asks after hanging up, his hand coming to rest on your back. 
A thousand words want to come out of your mouth, but you can't get them up past the lump in your throat. “He called me love.” You finally say, replaying the pet name over and over in your head. 
“Did he?” John asks, and you can picture the way his lips turn up in a smile. 
“He's never called me that before.” You say. 
“Well then I'm sure he meant it.” John says. 
You sure hope so. 
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It's a week later when you get to stand on the tarmac again, waiting for a plane to land. It's early, the sky clear and the sun just starting to rise over the trees, casting everything in a golden light. It’s so vastly different from how the world had looked when he left, the weather seeming to convey your inner feelings. The rain and darkness a perfect symbol of the dread and pain of him leaving. Now that he’s returning the sun is out and the sky is clear, conveying your relief. You’re beginning to feel again, the ache in your chest beginning to lessen. It’s the most alive you’ve felt since he left. 
You're in a dress today, the yellow sundress that Johnny had bought you. You wonder if he’d done it on purpose, perhaps knowing something you don’t. Despite the sun rising, there’s still a chill in the air, and you had quickly stolen his sweatshirt to cover your bare shoulders. 
You squeeze John's hand as the plane comes in to land, watching it approach in eager anticipation. You're going to hug him tightly, throw your arms around him and refuse to let go until you have no choice. You're going to give him the greeting he deserved weeks ago when they all came back. 
He's like a magnet, halfway down the ramp when you start approaching, moving without even thinking. He's in his full mask, the one with the half skull sewed to it. He looks dangerous and deadly, the true visage of a Ghost, but you approach without fear, without hesitation. Underneath all of it you know there’s Simon, the man you’ve quickly fallen in love with. 
You're ready to hug him, to feel him again, to wrap yourself around him like you could sink right into his body. 
You're not prepared for what he does next. 
One of his hands reaches up, the fabric of his gloves rough on your skin as he grips your chin, his thumb on one side, digging into your jaw, the other four fingers on the other side holding your head still. His other hand pulls his mask up over his mouth, giving you a glimpse of his stubble and chapped lips. 
You don't get to look long as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. 
It's like time freezes as he kisses you, your skin erupting in goosebumps, and it's not from the cold air. You weren't expecting this, your brain trying to catch up, to process that this is really happening, that this is real. 
He tilts your head to the side, deepening the kiss as he leans closer into you. Your hands reach up, closing around the sleeves of his jacket. He's real, he's really here, and he's kissing you. 
The moment likely doesn't last more than 30 seconds, but it feels like forever as his lips move against yours. It might be cliche to say fireworks are going off, but that may have just been the engines of the plane shutting down.  
He finally pulls away from you, his hand still gripping your jaw. You could melt into a puddle right there, his eyes speaking volumes of what's going on in his head. He's done a lot of thinking in his time away. You wonder how many thoughts you've shared over the last two weeks. 
“Should have done that before I left.” He says, his voice rough, but just as you remember. 
Tears prick behind your eyes as you stare up at him. His fingers are digging into your jaw, but you don’t care. He’s here, he’s back, he’s safe, and he just kissed you like you’d wanted to before he left. 
“I wish you had.” You say, as he slowly releases your jaw, his hand brushing your throat before it drops to his side. You let out a shaky breath before throwing your arms around him, holding onto him tightly. 
“What are you doing?” He says, taking you back all those weeks ago to when you hugged him the first time. There’s no confusion in his tone now though, instead there’s an amused lilt to it. 
“Giving you the hug you deserve so you don't get mad at me.” You say, your voice slightly muffled from your face being squished against his chest.
“You think I'd get mad about not getting a hug after kissing you?” He asks, patting your back. 
“Just making sure.” You say, his chuckle reverberating in your ear. 
You don’t release him as he begins to walk to where the others are, keeping your arms wrapped around him tightly. He greets the others, Johnny squishing you between them as he hugs his alpha. You don't care as Ghost's armor digs into your body, it's just a reminder that this is real. He's really here. This isn’t a dream. 
He's really back. 
You sit between Simon and Johnny in the back seat of the car. It's a tight squeeze between the two, but you don't care one bit. Johnny's hand rests on your thigh as John drives back to the barracks. Perhaps you’re still reeling a bit from the kiss, or perhaps it’s Simon’s scent, but you want to push Johnny’s hand higher, hike up your dress and hope Simon gets a peek at what's waiting underneath. You won’t though. You want him to be comfortable. You want your first moments of intimacy to be just the two of you, something special. 
Dread begins to fill you again as the car rolls to a stop outside the barracks. You know what to expect now, having gone through it once before. He’s not truly back, he still has to leave you again. At least this time, you have the others. 
“I'll see you soon.” Simon says, squeezing your arm. 
“Hurry back?” You stare up at him. 
“As fast as I can.” He says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 
You're tempted to kiss him again, but you don't want to push his boundaries. Sure, he had kissed you, but it could have been a fluke, a one time thing born out of desire and time spent apart. 
You won't care if he never kisses you again. At least you know what it feels like. 
Thankfully he makes the decision for you as he turns his body slightly towards you, as much as he can in the tight space. He lifts the bottom of his mask, leaning down to kiss you again. You purr against his lips, your scent exploding in the car like a smoke bomb. 
Johnny lets out an extensive curse as he fumbles for the door handle, forcing it open in an attempt to escape the sudden onslaught. Kyle is quick to follow, allowing more air in to disperse the intensity of your scent in the confined space. John rolls his window down, lighting a cigar, trying to do anything to keep your scent from going straight to his head. 
You feel giddy and almost proud as Simon places one last soft peck against your lips. You don’t want to let him go, but you know you have to. He’s not quite yours yet. He still has more of his job to do before then. 
Always the job first. 
Your lips are still tingling as you walk into the barracks, your heart still fluttering in your chest. Johnny is staring at you, almost walking sideways. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, your face warming. 
“What?” You ask, finally looking at him. He’s wearing that stupid, smug grin on his face again.
“Been a long time since I've seen him like that” He says, squeezing your arm gently. “Not since his first romp with Kyle.” 
You turn to look at the other beta behind you who simply shrugs. “What can I say? No one's immune to my charm.” He gives you a dazzling smile. He’s not wrong, his smile causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. 
“Cannae wait to see him glowin’ after his first taste of our sweet omega.” Johnny says, backing you against the wall. 
“Yeah, well, you might be waiting forever for that.” You say, stopping his approach with a hand on his chest. 
He tilts his head at you, his brows furrowing. “What do ye mean, kitten?” 
“I'm not even sure he's going to want that, much less if he'll do it.” You shrug. The thought has been going through your mind despite the kiss in the car. Though he’s kissed you twice, that’s a big leap to make, a leap you might never make. 
Johnny snorts at your response. “Kitten, he's been holdin’ himself back for weeks. He's just worried he may...be too much for ye.”
You give Johnny a look. “I can handle you, can't I?”
Johnny grins. “Aye, but this is...different. He's not gonnae make the first move. If ye want it,” He leans in closer. “Yer gonnae have to do it yourself.”
“Well,” You slip under his arm, nearly making him faceplant on the wall. “Then I best save my stamina for him, then.” 
Kyle laughs, patting Johnny's back. “Set yourself up for that one, mate.”
You peel off Johnny's sweatshirt, adjusting the top of your dress before tossing his sweatshirt to him. “I'll see you both later.” You give them a smirk before turning on your toes, heading back to your room. 
Johnny curses quietly behind you, and you just know his eyes are glued to your ass. 
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Johnny’s words replay over and over in your head as you go through your day as usual. Simon had returned to the barracks, going straight to his room to shower. You had been tempted to step into the hallway, to wait for him, but you know he’s not free yet. He still has paperwork to do, which you know from experience that could take a long time. 
Thankfully, that gives you plenty of time to think about what you’re going to do. You're going to have to make the first move, but what if you move too fast? How do you even broach the subject? 
“Hey Simon, welcome back. Would you like to rearrange my guts?” 
“I cried the whole time you were gone, would you like to make me cry for a different reason?”
“Bend me over and fuck me like a real alpha.”
You facepalm at your own thoughts. You could just slowly initiate it. Start with touches, getting closer, more kisses. Leave yourself open to him in hopes he gets the message, that he pushes past that boundary and finally fucks you like he wants to. 
Heat blooms in your stomach, sinking between your legs. You're all worked up and he’s only kissed you twice. Johnny’s words don’t help the fantasies in your mind. He’s scared you won’t be able to handle him. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. He’s a big man. You know, you’ve felt it before. It’s hard not to, with some of the positions he’s put you in during your training, nothing but those grey sweatpants and his underwear as a barrier. 
You wonder how he'll do it. Bend you over so you won't see his face? Keep the mask on and put you on your back so you can hold eye contact with him? Or will he finally take the mask off, finally let you see his face? 
You assume the others have seen it, so when will it be your turn? 
It’s not until after dinner when you hear footsteps down the hall. Johnny had gotten food for Simon who was still deep in his paperwork when you left for the mess. Despite his absence at the table still, it had felt less gaping, less like a black hole threatening to suck you all in. He’s back, he’s here. Soon he’ll fill that empty space again. 
You try to stop yourself from running out of your room when the steps get closer. You’re not even sure it’s him. You don’t want to disappoint the others if you leave your room so excitedly in the hopes that they’re Simon. So instead, you stay seated on the edge of your bed, staring at your unlocked door. You want him to open it, to step into your room, but you know he won’t. He’s never been in your room. The furthest he’s entered is your doorway. 
You’ll have to make the first move. 
Your stomach nearly leaps out of your body as the boots stop in front of your door. You hold your breath in anticipation, too scared to move, too scared to throw open the door and risk your excitement being too much. You might push him away in your eagerness, but you’re not sure you can hide it much longer. You’d let him bend you over with the door open, hell, you’d let him take you in the hallway. 
One step at a time. One step at a time. 
You repeat it over and over in your head as you push yourself off your bed, moving to the door. He’s not going to knock, he’s going to wait for you to open it, for you to remove that barrier between you. He’s giving you the chance to change your mind, to go back, to call the two kisses enough and draw the line where you want it. 
The doorknob is cold in your sweaty hand as you grasp it, turning it slowly. The gavel is falling, the slow opening of the door marks the finality, the crumbling of the final barrier. There’s no going back. The bond is too strong, the line has been removed completely. 
You stare up at Simon as the door swings as far as it will open. His eye black is gone, washed off in the shower revealing the pale skin underneath. He smells good, cleaner than he had on the tarmac. You can smell it despite the space between you. Under the smell of his generic soap you can pick up his natural scent. Leather and eucalyptus and the musk of alpha. You want to drown yourself in it, rub it all over your skin until your own scent is gone. 
“Hi.” You say, goosebumps forming across your skin from the intensity of his gaze. You’d forgotten how sharp it is, how easily he can peel away your layers as he stares at you. 
“Hi.” He says, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. You’d forgotten how deep it really is, the roughness around the edges harsher than usual, but you expected that. They had all been a bit hoarse after returning from their group deployment. 
You continue to stare at him, lost in his earthy gaze. The hole in your chest has lessened to almost nothing, slowly the bond repairing itself just from the knowledge he's here, he’s standing in front of you. He’s real. 
You clear your throat, smoothing your hands over your dress. His eyes drop, following the movement. “I thought you'd want to rest.” It's the first thing you can think of to say, speechless in his presence. He must be tired. 
“I slept on the plane.” He shrugs. 
“Yeah, but surely a real bed is a relief.” You say. You’d half expected him to retreat to his room, seeking out a comfortable bed. They’re not all that comfortable, but compared to what he probably was sleeping on these last couple weeks, it must feel like heaven. 
“Probably is.” He says, his gaze shifting back to your face. 
You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at him. You’re testing the waters, pushing into new territory as the last walls of the barrier crumble around you. “You could go rest.” You say, shifting on your feet, giving him the option to turn away, to change his mind. “I’m sure you missed your bed.” 
He’s still as a statue as he looms in your doorway, his frame filling it easily, making you feel small. “I'd rather relax in yours.”
Your face warms at his words, not expecting him to say that. The warmth pooling in your stomach intensifies, your heart fluttering in your chest. You’re not sure what happened during his assignment, what caused such a drastic change. You want to know what went through his head, what he was thinking about. Did he picture you at night when he got a moment to rest? Was he imagining you there with him, curled up against him? Or was he picturing you in other positions? 
You might never know, just another secret hidden between you. 
A shudder runs through him. You can see it, the slight twitch in his body, his hands closing into fists. He’s responding to you, to your scent. Such power you could hold over him if you were brave enough to try. 
Such power he could hold over you, if he wanted to. 
“You could come in.” You say, taking half a step back in invitation. 
He doesn’t move, still frozen there like a statue. You wonder how he stays so still, but that was probably part of his training. Be as steady as possible while shooting, how to be invisible even in broad daylight. “You're sure?” He finally rumbles out, his foot shifting just a centimeter, but you catch it. 
You shrug. “Why not? You are part of this pack. You could have entered sooner, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t have minded.” 
He hesitates for just a second before moving his foot from the tile and into your room. He pauses there for a moment, watching you, waiting for a reaction. It’s your turn to stay still, staring up at him as he makes the slow transition into your room, venturing into your sacred space, a place he’s never been in before. 
He moves the other foot, taking the first step over that line, pushing himself past that barrier, leaving it crumbling behind him. 
There’s no going back. 
Something shifts inside you as he enters your room, a weight you hadn’t even realized was there lifting off your shoulders. The hole in your chest is gone, the missing piece back in place. All the tumultuous emotions, all the stress and the fear and the anguish is gone. Your room is safe again, complete again with him in it. Tears prick at your eyes as relief floods through you. No one is getting in, no one can get in now, not with him here. You want to hug him, to kiss him again, drag him onto the bed and make him hold you for a while. 
You don’t. You stay still as he takes in your space, his eyes scanning your belongings and your decorations. He’s never truly seen it in the light. The only time he’d stared into it was that morning when you thought maybe someone had broken in, when your fear had fucked with your emotions enough to think they’d truly let someone enter without their knowledge. 
How silly that thought had been. 
His eyes move to your bed, landing on the giant bear wearing his black shirt. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare at it as well, suddenly thinking you should have removed the shirt, shoving it into your laundry and moving the bear back to your desk. Yet, you want him to see it, want him to see that you tried to comfort yourself in his absence, tried to make a placeholder for him. You won’t need it now, though. Not with the real thing standing in your space. 
He shakes his head as he stares at it, rolling his eyes as he lets out a sigh. “Fucking hell.”
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