#i did think of this yesterday and was just like [flaming skull voice] yes. YES. YESSS!!!!

[essektheylyss]

happy wizardly research & development experimentation day to ME

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.4

WARNING OF DEPICTION OF A PANIC ATTACK and mentions of drugging. 

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The rest of the day went by pretty uneventfully. That is after Nate lectured you about stranger danger and how you couldn't just walk forty miles in two hours. You really have no clue how you messed up the math that bad or how calling Nate for a ride never crossed your mind. Nate made you promise not to get into another stranger's car, especially without knowing their fucking names.

“I mean seriously YN, you just hopped in their car because they had a dog?! That's literally the first thing they tell you not to do when you learn about stranger danger!” he said munching on a boston cream donut. It was a good thing you'd brought donuts because you caused this man to stress eat...or was that a bad thing?

After you agreed to having better stranger danger instincts, Nate told you things would be run a little differently around the shop. Apparently the camera out back had died on Sunday, which although weird could be explained away as a camera that hasn't been updated or switched out since the shop was opened, maybe even before then too. So unfortunately Big Jo and Nate still didn't know who broke into your car or if they had been looking for anything. But Big Jo still wants to take precautions like the two of you leaving together and in the morning one of you waiting in their car with the doors locked for the other to come and then entering the building together.

Nate also mentioned a few other things, shipping and inventory related, that wouldn't really pertain to you or change any of your current tasks. It's really just to limit the amount of people coming through the back room. The back room was the emptiest you've ever seen when you went to check on your deer skull. You wonder if you hadn't been hired who would've gotten this position and how long they'd be able to keep their mouth shut about the obviously illegal activity going on. But you remember the person who had this position before you had been Bambi, a sweet if not oblivious girl. So, had you not come along the Cowells would have probably found someone else who didn't have an ounce of perception for their surroundings.

The week goes by slowly and with no further incidents. The deer skull has been completed and you plan on taking it to Maddie's Workshop next week to get a mount for it. In the time that you were bleaching and polishing the bones Nate took it upon himself to clean around the shop. Even though he's made it clear you just have to do your task list here, which takes about an hour maybe two depending on the tasks, he's always working on something.

Nate's the type of guy who's never content to just chill he needs to keep moving always chasing that high you get from accomplishing a goal, whatever he's made his that day. He's probably just substituting whatever he did daily with these new deep cleans of his.

Even with the lack of incidents following your car's break in the two of you have kept to the new precautions. Nate even going so far as to remind you tonight that on Monday if you arrive before him you'll need to stay in the car. At this point you think it's less about safety and more about the security of the store's extra curricular activities. Either way you don't really mind.

Things seemed to return to normal, you were back to driving yesterday and after you rearranged furniture in your house you felt a little less on edge. And every night this week you'd been able to get a good night's sleep, which although not too strange did stand out to you. Maybe another thing that had kept you on edge this week, because it meant when you saw a shadow pass by you during the day you couldn't write it off as quickly as you normally would.

But tonight it seemed your luck had run out. You sat on your bed with your sketch book in hand just doodling strange squiggles till your eyes were so tired they couldn't focus. Putting the book down to rest your eyes and crack your wrist, you sigh not feeling tired at all. The thought of a hike isn't really appealing right now, plus if you made a run into the mini mart you'd probably see either Ronnie or even Tim working behind the counter, that thought set your ears a flame. While the night life in Kepler was decent especially for a Friday night in summer, you just felt the need to be alone.

A drive was the best answer you had. You'd just choose a random lane on the interstate and take a random exit till you found a diner or something, order a tea and a slice of pie. Like you were a background character in someone else's story longingly staring out the window as your dreams slowly slipped through your fingers in this cold cruel world. Ok, you'd been joking about that because you saw a TikTok saying that, but your melodramatic ass actually thinks that sounds fun.

Throwing on some jeans and a flannel over you muscle tee, you were out the door. When you were checking the lock you'd heard rustling coming from around the house where your bins were. Worse case it's a stalker, best case just some raccoons. Either way you decided to calmly but briskly walk to your car, locking the doors immediately. Once in you drove around the side of your house, luckily, you assume, you spot the chonkiest raccoon you've ever seen digging through the bins. His tiny little person hands drawing an awww from you even though his demonic gleaming eyes should send a chill down your spine.

Hissing at the car Chonk returns to dig through your garbage. Weird how he only comes on your pizza weeks. Probably has a thing for Leo's homemade pizzas. You sure as hell do, as much as you love it you do save a slice for this little guy. You haven't put it out yet though, eh you'll do it tomorrow.

Having solved that mystery you sit in your car and link up your phone so you can have your driving playlist. It's mainly Folk Punk and Sea Shanties and while most might say it's a weird combination you say it's the same genre just different fonts. You could drive hundreds of miles into the middle of no where listening to this playlist and you'd be just fine...maybe have an emotional break down or two but expressing your emotions is suppose to be good for you. Mouthing along to Jim Bogart as it comes through the stereo you set off on your little excursion.

Just like when you have the urge to hike at night the urge to drive is nearly one in the same. Momentum taking you forward and not looking back as you do, needing to just go forward with no real destination in mind. Tonight however would be a little different you'd stop at the first diner you see that's out of Kepler bounds. Or turn right back around at one in case you hadn't found anything. There've been times that you kept driving straight through morning and didn't know where the hell you ended up. Not to mention you rarely remember the ways to get back after going for so long, and gps can only get you so far in some of the towns that also border the Monongahela Forest. You'd just have to rely on dumb luck tonight.

Unlike hiking, which gives you a burst of adrenaline as you push your body to its limits to move as far as you can and as much as you can. Driving gives a much more relaxed feeling, it's a feeling a weightlessness that gets lighter and lighter the further you get from home. Some may describe that feeling as a wanderlust or nomadic calling, but you've never cared for either of those things. You've only ever wanted to stay in one place for as long as you could remember. Moving around so much in your youth really messed you up, and you promised yourself this would be the last time you uprooted your life. And you've really come to love Kepler in these past few months. You can't imagine how you'll feel next year after getting to know the community more, but so far it's been really compassionate and understanding, a few rocky spots here and there but nothing like your hometown.

Without realizing it you've picked up your speed, you're doing 75 in a 55 zone. Even with no other vehicles around you slow down to just above the speed limit. While there might not be any cops around looking for easy tickets you don't want to risk dissociating at 75MPH or more. That could only end horribly. Though dissociating behind the wheel at all would be horrible. In the middle of shaking yourself from these thoughts you catch sight of an exit sign, which holds the logo for Denny's on it, and the exit is coming up in five miles. Switching lanes you cross over and get ready to hop off on the next exit.

You're pretty sure the only pie Denny's has is the dry apple with a scoop of ice cream. That isn't very appetizing to you, but then again you aren't really a fan of pie, a fact you seemed to gloss over when you made the decision to drive out here this late at night. Not too bothered by the fact, you remember Denny's has a salted caramel and banana pancake which should work in place of pie.

Pulling into the parking lot there are only three other cars, peering into the diner you don't really see anyone so the cars must belong to the skeleton night crew. Entering the Denny's you see there actually is one other patron, you only see the back of his head as he makes no move to look at the new arrival.

“Hun, seat yourself, I'll be out in a bit.” is the motherly voice that rings out from the kitchen, truly something you've only experienced in the south. Walking into a diner in the dead of night and  being treated like a daytime regular.

Seating yourself near the TV mounted to the wall you let the sounds of the soap opera playing drown out any buzzing you feel in your head. The waitress is out within minutes and though she startles at your masked face she regains her composure very quickly.

“I'd like the salted caramel pancakes if it's alright.” you say declining the offered menu.

“Just the pancakes?”

“Ah, yes please. And water's fine too.” it really pays to know the menu prior to coming in. Gives you ample time to run scripts over in your head.

Viv, the name on her name tag, nods and gives you a smile as she spins right round to the kitchen. Probably happy she won't have to run out so many times for just one order or maybe to spend time with the cooks in the back. You remember working food service sucked but the line cooks made it so much better at the end of the day. Even if they said you were too quiet and called you 'mouse'.

It might not have been exactly what you set out to do but this little midnight self date was really nice, you should do this more often.

Pancakes finished and mask back on you waited for Viv to bring out your check,  then you notice the other patron also making his moves to leave. You're sat facing the door so when he turns and comes closer dread fills your veins like burning cold dry ice. It's David, a local from Kepler you briefly met when you first moved. He gave you really bad vibes and over all was just a very skeevy dude.

What made you feel worse about him was when he left town to “help his sister” right after Bambi disappeared. Those in your circle told you she always talked about leaving Kepler one day but you trusted your gut in saying she didn't leave by her own choice. It got made for her, and David leaving just furthered your theory. You look away hoping he hadn't noticed you but unfortunately you could hear his footsteps falter and then pick back up by passing the door completely.

“Hey...YN, right?” fuck he remembers you, alarm bells are ringing at this fact. Why would he remember someone he briefly met months ago?

“It really is you, still as quiet as I remember.” what did he mean the two of you only met a handful of times and that had been because of your mutual friendship with Bambi.

Where is Viv with the check? You'd really like if she saved you from this painful situation right now. But you aren't sure what's worse having to sit here and listen to David tell you everything he's been up to these past few months, like you even care. Or the thought of leaving with David having him follow you and maybe doing whatever he did to Bambi to you.

“Yea so my sister's better now, I should be seeing you around soon. We should catch up maybe do Saturday Night Dead. Does the Crypt still do that?” great a fucking rhetorical question, he knows the Cryptonomica still does it's weekly movie nights, it's only been two months he's been gone. Not to mention it's a big hit and a huge source of revenue for the shop.

You haven't said anything this whole time, fuck being polite to a potential killer, and fuck being polite to this creep. He's just been talking nearly nonstop for the last few minutes. He must really love the sound of his own voice or thinks he's the most charming person to ever grace the Earth with his presence. Since he's not really caring that you aren't proving to be a stimulating partner in this conversation. He really does love hearing himself talk. By the time he's said his own goodbyes Viv finally makes it out from the back.

She apologizes for the wait, had to go on her break sometime you supposed. You take your time finding your wallet, it's in your back pocket but you wanted to stall for time since you could still see David's car out there, you were also keeping an eye on your own car. Only relaxing when you saw him pull off from the corner of your eye. Oh look you've “found” your wallet,  handing Viv your credit card you just want to get out of here quickly now.

You pay and leave a nice tip for Viv, while she didn't save you from that creep it's not like she could've known. You sit in your car for a moment or two just breathing in and out in the glow of the diner lights. Almost meditating before you begin your long drive back to Kepler with all these thoughts of David, Bambi's disappearance, and how it can't be coincidence that David is coming back at the same time that you have a break in. Could you be his next target? Were you just over thinking things? Just blaming this poor guy because you didn't like him? But you've always been intuitive and bad vibes aren't something to ignore. David appearing now meant something.

Just that thought alone put you on edge as your skin begins to crawl. With a few calming breaths you go to start the car and sync your radio when you notice the glow of the lights changed from the slight yellow to a sterile blueish white. Looking up where the diner should be you see the mini mart back at Kepler...how on earth did you get here? You didn't drive! You couldn't have dissociated while driving, you never even turned the car on and you can barely take a hike dissociating let alone do something as complex as drive a car.

It happens before you can register it, on shaky legs that move on their own you are passing the threshold of the convenience store and catching the tail end of a conversation.

“ppened to not feeding into delus...” the voice cuts off as the door shuts behind you. You know that voice why is it so hard to focus?

Something warm brushes your hand and you see someone in front of you. Who is that? You can't see their face, they've got a mask covering their face. Like you but that person is not you. You might know them...Tobais?

“Yea? You good there?” confusion, you blink hard and see you are standing in the mini mart now, Connor standing under your hand, Toby hovering close by and both Brian and Tim watch with unease over by the register.

“...I don't know how I...how I got here.” you register movement in the background but not consciously.

It's the shifting of Brian's head as he looks out the front windows and spots your Kia.

“You drove.” shaking your head, “Maybe...I don't...I dissociated?” in your confusion you can register Toby stiffen in front of you.

Fear, fear, uneasy, breath....are you breathing? Your head's so jumbled right now.

You scan the shop trying to look for answers that may help you but you find none. The more confused you get the more worked up you get, chest rising and falling rapidly. You take a step back or try to and end up falling on your butt. It's starting to get hard to breathe with your throat constricting, you bring a hand up to your larynx.

“..re.....have..attack......”

        “could be o...me..”

“.....pressure...”

Is all you can make out with your fuzzy consciousness before a heavy pressure is piling on your chest and knocking you fully on your back. The pressure is actually pretty lifting as contradictory as it may seem. Instead of restricting your breathing more it seems to be kick starting your lungs to exhale and inhale. With oxygen coming back into your body you can feel your toes and the tingle behind them. You can feel your fingers and the fur under them. Fur?

Taking in a big breath you move your head and come face to muzzle with Connor.  You give a nod of recognition to the dog before lying flat again and staring up at the ceiling. After about ten minutes you're thinking more clearly than before, which isn't saying much.

“Thanks.” you aren't sure who it's directed at but you still mean it.

It's silent until Toby breaks it, “I'm taking you home.”

“Car.” it's all you can manage to say but the message though distorted got through.

“I'll drive it, Brian follow behind.” there is no room for arguing, driving under any influence must be a touchy subject for Toby. Or maybe you're really fucked up right now and just can't comprehend how bad.

You use Connor to get up, he seems ready and no one else makes a move to you. Toby pushes past and holds the door open as Connor guides you, still holding onto his vest with one hand, and Brian murmurs something to Tim before following you three.

Outside Toby already has your keys in his hand, when did he get those? Did you give them to him? Your hand is risen, you must of...how on earth did you even drive like this. Had you really driven? There's a lump in your throat again and you're breathing's gone shaky, god you hope you didn't hurt anyone. You must have been zoning out for too long, not only is Connor pushing your legs but Toby has a grasp on your forearm coaxing you forward.

His grip isn't suffocating, honestly even seeing it there you still don't feel it. Maybe it's because you're so numb, or maybe it's because he's genuinely helping you but you can't feel the pain that  usually comes with being touched. The sharp jab that feels like you've been struck with a fire poker where ever someone laid their hands on you. After he's pushed you into the backseat, more like nudged you, even making sure you didn't bump your head, he buckles you in then snaps and Connor jumps into the car and lays across your lap.

You're shaking, actually trembling as you look at Toby. What's going on? Why can't you figure out what's happening? The brunette doesn't say a thing as he gets into the driver's seat and buckles in to drive you home. That's strange you think, how does he know where to go? You told him right, just follow the road...or maybe he guessed from the other day. What happened to you? Why the mini mart? You were at Denny's.

“This town doesn't have a Denny's.” did you say that out loud?

“I...I went for a drive, a town over...up...no.. north I think...” you start blinking barely able to keep your eyes open before your eyes lock shut. It's sending you over the edge even more in your confusion.

“Hey, hey just focus on the Denny's. What'd you do once you got there?” is he trying to distract you? Calm you down? Or is he trying to piece together what happened like you are? You can remember Denny's just fine, the dull yellow glow of the inside the skeleton crew murmuring in the back, the pancakes you had, and the “conversation” with David. Did David do this, had he put something in your water glass? Did you even touch your water glass after he left? Breathe. You need to breathe. Toby's waiting.

“Pancakes...I had pancakes. Then that creep came over...and he started talking. Didn't like. We aren't friends, I don't know him. I don't understand why he'd talk to me. Didn't like. Didn't like.” finger back to pressing down on your larynx and the weight of Connor preventing your legs from striking out at the seat in front of you.

“Wait, were you drugged?” Eyes flash to the rear view to lock with your own teary stare.

“No, maybe...I don't think so.” you barely feel the pain in your throat right now, this is all so overwhelming. “He left, I...I watched him drive off before getting in my car... I had an episode while the car was off then..” then you were at the mini mart. You never touched the ignition.

“I didn't drive, I never started the car. Didn't, didn't, didn't” Your attack is probably stressing even Connor out now, but this is all so confusing.

You're so focused on the fuzzy events you don't notice Toby bristle. Or how he grips the steering wheel tighter until his knuckles grow white despite his already translucent skin. He might not be able to feel or see it in the mirror through his mask but he's probably gnawing off more of his face. He'd deal with it after he dealt with you.

You've made it to your house and he's waiting for the headlights from Brian. When he sees them in the rear view he gets out but not before telling you, or maybe Connor, to stay put.

It's a few long moments before he comes back. But in the silence and darkness of your car, growing colder by the moment, you start to ground yourself. You aren't calm by any means and you're still very unfocused. But you aren't crying as the numbness overtakes you, you don't even jump when the door beside you opens. With a snap Connor is out of the car and soon you're being pulled from the car, that same weightless touch gripping your forearm. Toby guides you into your own home, and walks towards the hallway looking into the bathroom, the only other door, before finding your room.

Seemingly understanding your catatonic state he sits you on the bed and gives some order to Connor before he leaves the room. And you just sit on the bed staring into dead air as a silent guard sits in wait. You aren't sure what he's waiting for or why he's still there but the numbness has taken over too much and you can't find it in you to give a single fuck.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

one day, a horn grew from my head (part one)

Beetlejuice, but BJ is more visibly demonic, there’s world building for the Netherworld, and he has a partner helping him...

--------------------

- the whole being dead thing! -

A blue truck rattled up the gravel path, racing to beat the storm beginning to brew up in the sky. Rain was already starting to come down, drizzling over the clouds of dust kicked up by the tires. The headlights shone on the wall of an old house in the distance. From the darkness of the surrounding greenery, sharp teeth spread in a wide grin.

  “It’s almost time,” said the demon. “Took ‘em long enough. I thought he’d never get back.”

There was stirring at his side. He lightly whacked the figure next to him. His suit was sopped with rainwater, making the sleeves dangly and heavy as they hung around his wrists. It was odd to be in such merciless weather after having to deal with the acid rain back down in the Netherworld. Sometimes he couldn’t help but turn his head up to the downpour and let it run over his face in refreshing waves of coolness without it feeling like his flesh was melting off of his skull.

When his partner didn’t get up, he lightly poked her in the ribs with a claw. She squealed.

  “Come on,” he said. “It’s time to wake up.”

The mud-slathered, blood-stained young demon sat up straight from her curled position against his side. She blinked, and the moonlight caught on her bright hazel eyes, making them glow.

  “He’s here,” the larger demon pointed a black-clawed finger at the parked truck and the figure walking to the front door.

The smaller demon flicked her comically large pointy ears at the vehicle, then looked back up at him, eyes shining. A moth landed on one of her horn nubs.

The larger of the two smirked again, alligator teeth flashing. “It’s showtime, kid. Let’s put this plan into action.”

  “So, crazy story,” Adam began, taking off his rain-spattered coat. “I got all the way to Howard’s store, and Howard tells me they’re all out of stock.”

  “Oh no,” Barbara vocalized her dismay.

  “But I asked Howard Junior to check the back for me--”

  “Smart.”

  “--so he sends little Howard the Third and long story short, I got the last bottle of Manchurian tung oil!”

  “That’s great!” Barbara beamed. “Now you can finally finish the crib?”

  “Yup!” Adam said, ripping off the cloth of a shiny, wood-carved crib. It was his pride and joy in a strange sort of woodworking way. “It should be ready before the O'Brien’s baby gets here!”

  “She had it yesterday.”

Adam blinked. “Oh. Well--” He fumbled for just a moment. “Doesn’t matter! They’ll get it soon! They can put the baby in the…sink…in the meantime!”

Barbara laughed. It was a sweet, high sound that made Adam’s heart flutter.

  “That’s definitely a place to put a newborn,” Barbara said.

  “It’s round!” Adam said. “It can hold an infant. Plus, it doubles as a bathtub, so you can kill two birds with one stone!”

Barbara chuckled. She was shining one of her newest pottery jugs- her latest hobby. Last week it was painting. The week before that it was embroidery. And the week before that it was composting. He wondered how long this interest would last.

As Adam was shining one of the bars of the crib, rubbing his thumb over the pristine wood, he said, “Maybe we can keep it for ourselves.”

Barbara dropped her jug and it shattered into a thousand orange shards. Adam jumped, nearly ripping the bar right off of the crib. He stood up quickly.

  “Are you alright?” he sputtered.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Barbara said, haphazardly rushing for the broom. She began sweeping up the broken pieces of clay, then peered over at Adam. “What would we use a crib for?”

  “You know…” Adam gestured vaguely.

  “A baby,” Barbara smiled softly.

Adam smiled, too. “Yeah.”

  “I mean…we do have this whole house,” Barbara said.

  “It is a big house,” Adam nodded.

  “And we already have a minivan.”

  “A minivan is a family car.”

They smiled dreamily, imagining what it would be like to have a baby in their household, babbling adorably, snoozing in their arms, calling them “mama” and “dada”, having toys everywhere, getting in danger as they crawled around, crying, hating them when they grew up… 

Adam swallowed thickly. He shifted, and the floorboards creaked below him. “Oh!” He pointed to the ground. “But-- but the floor! Listen to this creaking!” He stepped, and it creaked again, perfectly on time. “We can’t have a family with floors like this! It can be a safety hazard!”

Barbara nodded energetically. She put the broom away and began walking over. “You are absolutely right! Someone could get hurt!”

  “Yeah! And we don’t want that to happen!”

  “Not at all!”

  “We have to do something about it before we have our own baby.”

  “Among other things. We have to baby proof this whole house!”

  “Yes! Great idea! We should get on that as soon as possible!”

  “You’re so right! As soon as possible! So we can get on that baby right away afterw--”

There was then an awful shriek, and Adam realized it came from below as the wood seemed to fold inwards, dropping he and his wife into the darkness below the house. The last thing he remembered was Barbara’s horrific screaming, and then something cold and hard smacking into the back of his skull… 

…and far above, in the light of the house, two heads peered into the hole, one with spiky lime green hair and the other wearing a red and black helmet.

  “Damn,” Beetlejuice said. “I knew they were going to die, but that was quite the fall.” He stood up straight. “Eh. Still a better death than others I’ve seen. At least their bodies will still be intact. Them being cut in half would make things WAY harder.”

The Jockey nodded at his side. She was leaning treacherously into the hole, so Beetlejuice grabbed her by the back of the helmet to keep her from falling in. He tugged her backwards. 

  “They’ll get up soon,” Beetlejuice said. “So we gotta get ready. Prepare. Where’s the book?”

The Jockey looked around mutely. Beetlejuice learned rather quickly that she wasn’t much of a talker. He had never actually heard her voice before so he didn’t know if she even  could talk, though she did nod when he asked if she could. Whether that was the truth or a lie to save face, he didn’t know, but he didn’t really care because they communicated together rather fine. It was quite a bit easier than he was expecting once he had all of her mannerisms down.

  “It’ll show up eventually,” Beetlejuice said, checking the watch he didn’t have. His sleeves were still dripping with rainwater. “In the meantime,” he gazed around the house. “Pretty big place they got here. And for only two people?”

The Jockey pointed to the crib.

  “Right. They  had been discussing starting their own family,” Beetlejuice nodded. He glanced back into the hole for a moment. The two bodies at the bottom were still in the same position as they had been a minute ago, but the pool of blood gathering around their heads had grown slightly larger. Their lights were definitely knocked out cold. “Hopefully the woman hadn’t actually been pregnant. Nobody likes ghost fetuses. They’re so weird. All crawly and goopy and malformed…” He shuddered.

The Jockey laughed. She was capable of making noises, just didn’t like talking for reasons Beetlejuice still didn’t know.

  “What about you? Did you have a house like this? Big? Small? Rich? Poor?”

She looked over at him, flicking one of her ears. She was quiet, as usual.

  “I only ask because my housing unit back in the Netherworld was terrible,” Beetlejuice said. “I was once chained in this abyss for, like, a hundred years. It was the worst. Really makes you miss normal houses, doesn’t it?”

The Jockey nodded faintly, her lips pursed, eyebrows knitted together as she stared at him.

There was suddenly a  thump  as a thick book appeared out of seemingly nowhere, crashing to the ground on a rather ugly green and brown carpet. Beetlejuice picked it up.

  “The rulebook,” he presented it to his partner. “Let’s see…” He flipped open to the first few pages and began reading,  “The Handbook For The Recently Deceased. Chapter One: The Netherworld. All ghosts should proceed directly to the Netherworld.” He closed it abruptly. “But that isn’t gonna happen! These lovebirds need to stay here with us and haunt their house!”

He thrusted out a hand and the fireplace roared to life, crackling with bright orange flames. The Jockey leapt around to it, the glow making her eyes shine. She followed him over to the mantle as he carelessly threw the handbook into the inferno.

  “Whoops!” Beetlejuice exclaimed. “Damn. There goes the book. Now they’ll never get to the Netherworld.”

The Jockey tittered softly. At the same time, there was the sound of shifting from within the hole.

  “Barbara…? Are you alright?”

  “Oh crap!” Beetlejuice grabbed the Jockey by the arm and yanked her behind the couch with him to hide. They both crouched low, listening as the couple crawled their way out of their tomb.

  “Holy smokes! That was some fall!”

  “I guess the floor gave out…?”

  “I didn’t think it was that weak. Are you alright, huh?”

  “I think so…”

  “Oh my god--”

  “You are like ice!”

  “You’re freezing!”

They must have discovered their body’s drop in temperature. 

  “I’ll make a… I don’t remember making a fire…”

The Jockey’s gaze shot over to Beetlejuice. He shrugged.

  “Had to destroy the book somehow, kid,” he whispered.

  “That’s so weird. It’s not hot…”

  “I think we should consider ourselves lucky. A fall like that could have been bad. I mean, my whole life flashed before my eyes like it does in the movies. I started asking myself the big questions, like… Why are our bodies still in the basement?”

  “What did you say?”

The Jockey grimaced behind the couch.

The couple then began screaming, though Beetlejuice didn’t exactly know why. He couldn’t risk blowing his cover just yet to check.

  “Adam! I don’t think we survived that fall!”

  “…What? You mean… Oh god.”

  “Here we go, kid,” Beetlejuice whispered to the Jockey. “It’s our time to shine.”

  “I know… I know. There’s still so much I wanted to do.”

  “I know, me too, but-- Hey, hey. We’re still together, right? We’re still in our house, all of our stuff is here! So what if we are…dead… That’s bad, obviously, but hey! Maybe nothing has to change!”  

Just then, Beetlejuice and the Jockey popped up from behind the couch. 

  “Hi.”

The Jockey waved.

Barbara and Adam whirled around to them. They all stared at each other in a beat of silence. Beetlejuice held up his hands.

  “Do not be afraid,” he said. His sharp black claws didn’t help the statement very much. “You are dead. I am also dead.” He pointed to the Jockey. “So is she. Maybe we can help each other out. What’s up?”

The Maitlands screamed and scrambled away as he advanced over to them with his hand outstretched. He backpedaled in reaction, pointy ears shooting up. He had  not been expecting them to act like that. Good thing he had a child with him.

  “Work your magic, kid,” he said to the Jockey.

The Jockey did as she was told, slowly walking over to the Maitlands with her hands up, palms out, claws visible, as if she were approaching a pair of spooked horses. The Maitlands seemed to relax slightly in the midst of the young girl, but then got weirdly defensive looks on their face. They bustled around her, forming a barrier of sorts between her and Beetlejuice. She blinked over their guard.

  “Hey!” Beetlejuice yelped. “That’s my jockey!”

  “Who the hell are you?!” Adam yelled. 

  “Help! I am help!” Beetlejuice said. “I’m here to help you both! And so is she! So can I have her back now? Pretty sure we have a whole codependent, separation anxiety thing going on here.”

Barbara peered at the small form of the Jockey, then at Beetlejuice protectively, not budging. “Are you her father?”

  “What? No!” 

Adam’s eyes somehow got even wider than they already were. “Did you kidnap her?!”

  “How did you even come to that conclusion?”

But Adam and Barbara were already wrapped up in the theory, becoming even more fierce and protective around the Jockey. Not that they were very intimidating. They had about the menace of a pair of pomeranians, and even that was being generous. 

  “You’re not laying another finger on her!” Adam yelled.

  “I didn’t kidnap her!” Beetlejuice yelled back, exasperated. Hints of orange-red were beginning to flicker around the crown of his head like the first sparks of a fire. If these two newly-deads weren’t so damn attractive he probably would have clawed their faces off by now and found a new couple to get a living human to say his name.

Barbara turned to the Jockey, crouching slightly to meet her eyes beneath the rim of her helmet. “Sweetie, did this mean man take you from your parents?”

  “I didn’t take her from anyone!”

  “That sounds like something a kidnapper would say,” Adam said, narrowing his eyes at him in suspicion.

  “I’m not a kidnapper!!”

The Jockey quickly held up her hands again, shaking her head. She weaved around the protective forms of Adam and Barbara and darted over to Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into his side possessively. He glared at the Maitlands for a moment before cooling off, easing his stare. The red and orange fire beginning to light through his hair went down. 

  “I did not kidnap her,” he reiterated. “She is my partner.”

Adam opened his mouth.

  “NOT LIKE THAT!” Beetlejuice cut him off before he even got the chance to say something. “Partner in business. My business partner. We work together.”

  “You work with…a child?” Barbara asked.

  “She’s more useful than half of the adults I know.”

The Jockey stood up a little straighter at that.

Adam looked Beetlejuice up and down. “You said you were here to help us…”

  “Right!” Beetlejuice perked up. “Yes! We are!”

  “Help us with what?” Barbara asked.

  “To learn how to scare!”

  “Scare? Scare who?”

  “The people who bought your house!”

At that moment, two men dressed in delivery outfits came in and began grabbing everything they saw. Barbara and Adam tried to stop them, but their yelling and waving did little to help. Beetlejuice and the Jockey watched on in amusement.

  “They can’t see us!” Adam finally exclaimed.

  “Keen observation, Adam,” Beetlejuice said. He took the crop from the Jockey’s holster and began waving it around as if he were giving a presentation. “The living ignore the dead. We are invisible to them. And they’re so wrapped up in their stupid little lives that they usually just ignore the strange and unusual unless you make them, which is why we’re here.”

  “This is all so much to take in,” Barbara said, running her fingers through her hair.

  “Hey, I get it,” Beetlejuice said. “It’s a lot, but it’s okay! You two are special! You died together! That NEVER happens! Unless it’s a murder-suicide, which makes for a VERY awkward eternity.” 

  “How did you die?” Adam asked warily.

Beetlejuice laughed. “Oh, that’s cute. I was born-dead. Never got to experience human stupidity.”

  “And her?” Adam nodded at the Jockey.

  “Horse racing accident,” Beetlejuice said. He thought it had been obvious from her muddy and bloody silks and the hoofprints branding her body. He tapped a claw on her helmet. “She doesn’t talk very much, so don’t expect an answer from her.”

  “Wait-- how can you be born dead?” Barbara blinked.

  “I’m a demon, Babs, try to keep up.”

Both Barbara and Adam’s eyes widened. Thankfully, they didn’t freak out like they did the last time.

  “You’re a WHAT?!” Adam yelped.

  “So is she!” Beetlejuice pointed to the Jockey.

  “You don’t…look like demons…” Barbara said hesitantly.

  “Well, that’s just rude,” Beetlejuice looked down at the Jockey. “I swear, Breathers read the Bible once and think all demons are the same.”

The Jockey nodded with a tiny giggle.

  “Demons aren’t exactly what you’re used to,” Beetlejuice said to the confused faces of the Maitlands. “If you weren’t already ghosts, my true form could strike you dead simply by being in your midst. I can kill a Breather with a single stare! But I appear in this form,” he gestured vaguely, “to seem less intimidating. Don’t want to scare off any potential clients.”

  “You need to work on that,” Adam said.

  “I can go more demonic whenever I want, though,” Beetlejuice went on, ignoring him. 

He then snapped his fingers and a pair of black-and-white striped horns burst out from the crown of his head. A long, arrowhead black tail slithered out from his waist as his legs painlessly bent backwards into a more hock-jointed position, large talons pressing out from his ratty shoes. The Maitlands stared in shock. The Jockey looked enraptured, her ears fluttering. 

  “Like so,” He presented himself to them. “And this isn’t even what I REALLY look like.”

The Jockey clapped energetically. Beetlejuice grinned at her toothily. 

  “I was born a demon,” Beetlejuice said, looking back at the Maitlands. “Therefore, I was born-dead. She,” he drummed on the Jockey’s helmet, “became a demon. That happens if a ghost becomes too consumed with bitterness, grief, or anger and can’t get over their deaths.”

Barbara and Adam both shot worried looks at the Jockey from the implication behind Beetlejuice’s words. Beetlejuice didn’t blame them for that one. It was uncommon for ghosts to become demons; only if their deaths were REALLY bad. And for a child to turn, no less… 

  “Anyway,” Beetlejuice continued. “There’s a lot of feuds between the two types of demons because born-demons perceive turned-demons as “falsies” or “dirty half breeds” since they used to be humans and weren’t born with their horns and whatnot.” He tapped one of the Jockey’s little horn nubs for emphasis. “It’s just this whole thing.  We get along just fine, though!”

As if to prove it, he and the Jockey smiled innocently, showing their sharp teeth. The Maitlands blinked back at them. Adam glanced over Beetlejuice’s shoulders as the movers continued to haul out furniture.

  “So you can really help us get our house back?” he asked.

  “You bet your sweet dilf ass I can!” Beetlejuice replied animatedly.

Adam’s cheeks flamed to an adorable shade of pink. Barbara looked slightly startled before barking, “There’s a child here!”

The Jockey waved a dismissive hand and mouthed,  “I’ve heard worse.” She then tugged on her filthy silks for emphasis of sorts. 

  “Please say yes!” Beetlejuice said, trying not to beg. “Nobody else can help you! We’re all you got!”

Adam and Barbara cast one more dismayed look at their departing furniture, then said, “You’re hired.”

Electric green shot through Beetlejuice’s hair like the lightning bolts during an acid storm down in the Netherworld. His tail had to be wagging at the speed of light. He shook the Jockey’s arm eagerly. 

  “They said yes!!” He yipped, and the Jockey grinned up at him gleefully. He looked at the Maitlands. “You won’t regret it!”

The Maitlands looked slightly worried. 

  “I sure hope so,” Adam muttered.

--- --- --- --- ---

Jaws dripping with gore, the many-limbed, razor-clawed amalgamation towers over the smaller creature on the street, holding a heart between its teeth. The smaller creature raises its blunted, chipped, and ripped off claws in a sign of weakness, spiked tail tucked between its legs. The abomination devours its heart, then hisses in its ear, “D o n ‘ t e v e r t o u c h h e r a g a i n.”

--- --- --- --- ---

Beetlejuice’s eyes popped open. He stared into the darkness all around him, thick and tall like walls of onyx. Rain was still falling outside. Normal rain. 

There was shifting at his side. The Jockey curled up tighter against his side, finding him warm despite the Dead being deathly cold. Finding his presence comforting despite him being awful.

She didn’t need to sleep, and yet she did. Perhaps to retain a shred of normalcy in her unlife. The Maitlands seemed to be the same way from the soft snoring coming from the other corner of the attic. It was too dark to see them, but they were there.

People were there. 

His tail was still out, so he draped it over the Jockey’s ankle, testing her reaction to the touch. Even in sleep, she stirred, ears flicking slightly. She slumped over completely into his lap, her head cushioned by one of her arms, pointed tongue caught between her sharp teeth. Beetlejuice snorted. He poked her helmet.

  “I don’t know how you sleep in this,” he said.

There was no answer. Even if she weren’t asleep, she wouldn’t give him one. That was okay. He didn’t mind her silence. 

[crystalas]

It’s only a matter of time part 2

part 2 of a Monkie Kid fanfic wherein MK and Red Son are being trained by Macaque against their will. Trapped in a mountain dojo with the skillet and Bands of Guanyin keeping them prisoner the two have to work together for any hopes of escape.

warning this contains the fan theory that demons in LMK universe eat humans, painful punishments and well angst

Chapter two: Meal times.

MK was embarrassed to find that he had fallen asleep as he nudged awake by Red Son who was staring at the cell door, Macaque’s shadow clone was standing there with two covered bowls, two jugs of water and wooden cups on a tray in his hands. He knelt down and pushed them towards the two boys who looked at it with suspicion and disgust.

“One of the things I was commissioned to do was to break a certain demon boy out of some bad habits, so I have decided that while you train under me you will be on an au natural diet.” The clone declared. MK picked up the lid and to his surprise his bowl was full of several bits of fruit, handfuls of different nuts and seeds and to his revulsion three giant crickets.

“For Monkey boy a monkey diet, don’t worry I’m not stupid enough to give you anything you can’t eat” Macaque laughed as MK stuck his tongue out at the idea of eating bugs. Red Son looked extremely hesitate to lift the lid on his bowl but the clone did it for him.

At first glance MK thought that Red Son had just been given a raw shank of meat presumably pork, but then he noticed that the joint of meat ended with a hand…

“For demon boy, a demon diet of raw human…”

MK froze and stared at Red Son who looked like he was going to puke.

“I can’t eat this!” Red Son declared pushed the bowl away.

“Aw don’t worry its fresh”

“I don’t care I can’t eat this!”

“Tough!”

MK took a fruit from his bowl and was about to hand it to Red Son but gave a loud yelp as his skillet gave him a warning throb.

“No sharing, that’s the only warning you two are getting!” Macaque’s clone scowled, “and don’t think I won’t noticed if you try. I’m not called the six-ear macaque for nothing” Red Son turned his back on his bowl with a growl of indignation and stayed there. MK felt his stomach betray him as he took the fruit, he was going to give Red Son and began to slowly chew on it. he didn’t realise until he shallowed the first mouthful how hungry he was and quickly began to eat everything else. [except the crickets…no…not hungry enough for bugs and he really hoped he never would have to be.]

“Enjoy boys and try to get a good night sleep, tomorrow the real training begins” and with that the clone vanished into the floor.

MK looked at Red Son who kept his back to him during the entire time MK had eaten his meal not a single word was spoken between them.

“Red Son…” MK began but was quickly cut off.

“Yes, demons eat people, but I don’t, okay?” Red Son snapped his hair rippling with fire, “I don’t care if that might make me the laughing stock of the demon community I. Don’t. Eat. Meat!”

“It’s ok I’m kind of glad you don’t” MK said quietly, “I’m guessing vegetarian demons are unusual?”

Red Son gave a heavy sigh and MK could see him gripping the sleeves on his robe tightly.

“More heavily frowned upon… a lot of the old school demons don’t get that for us inner city demons we can’t just go picking up the nearest human to snack on without alerting police. So, it’s easier to just not to.”

“Wait…how did Macaque know about this? How did he know about your quote unquote ‘bad habits’?”

“I don’t know, just add that to growing list of ‘things we have no idea on’…” Red sighed he scooted himself so he was leaning against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. Another hour of awkward silence filled the air as they both tried their hardest not to look at the human limb sitting in the cell with them. MK decided that maybe the best thing to do was sleep, but despite curling up and trying he just couldn’t.

“It’s just a limb nothing to be scared of…” Red Son said suddenly after ten minutes of him trying to sleep.

“I’m not scared!” MK retorted. Well not scared of the limb, I’m scared of everything else going on but not that.

“Then why are you shaking?”

“I’m cold!” MK groaned “It might surprise you that cold stone floors do not make for good sleeping arrangements!”

Red Son looked at him before giving a weary sigh and scooted closer to him, MK looked at him as he put his hands out and a fire blossomed into existence. MK closed his eyes and the warmth seeped into him.

“If we are to get out of here, we need to work together” Red Son whispered “Which means I can’t have you dying from the cold.”

MK was already drifting off to sleep.

“You know…for a bad guy…you’re pretty nice…” he mumbled as he fell asleep.

Red Son looked at him before glancing at the limb then back to MK. Don’t focus on the hunger, focus on the flame he told himself just focus on anything but that…meat.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Please. Wake up!” MK woke up instantly at the voice of Macaque who was standing there holding in a snigger, MK looked to Red Son who had fallen asleep and was resting his head on MK’s shoulder. MK pushed him awake and when he realised what he was doing sprung away as he had received an electric shock.

Another bowl of fruit, nuts and bugs.

Another bowl of human meat, this time it looked to be a mix of organs. MK didn’t want to try and identify what kind but he was pretty sure he saw a heart; he didn’t dare look at it too long in case it moved! Red Son turned away again clutching his stomach.

“Eat up, you have thirty minutes to be ready and then we are starting” Macaque declared coldly before walking away. MK couldn’t help but watch Red Son as he ate wishing he could do something that didn’t result in both of them rolling around the floor screaming for mercy.

They were led by a shadow clone under the same command of “Please. Follow” Back to the training dojo floor that they had wandered through yesterday, instead of the dark gloom the room was lit up but what looked like glowing glass orbs. Macaque stood there waiting for them.

“So, let’s refresh ourselves, shall we?” he said happily despite the death glares he was receiving from the two ‘students. “You do what I say when I say and you don’t have to worry about struggling to breath or having your skull crushed, are we clear on that?”

Both boys continued to glare at him.

“I said are we clear?”

They managed another beat of determined silence before Macaque got a very quiet “Yes…”

“Good from now on you shall refer to me as Master, got that?”

Another very quiet and strained “Yes…”

“Yes what?”

“Yes…Master” MK had to swallow back the bile in his throat as he did.

“Good boys, let’s start with the basics, shall we?”

And so began the training programme which started out with running laps, then lead on to push up, pull ups and squats. MK tried to figure out how many Macaques actually wanted out of them but it seemed that he just wanted to see how many they could do before they collapsed before starting the next one.

“I need you two at your very best for what’s to come” Macaque told them after the morning was over and MK and Red Son sat there trying to not drown in their own sweat and try to move their aching bodies.

“Which is?” MK asked wearily.

Macaque just smiled at him, and throw the two bottles of water which they chugged greedily.

After an hour break, they started doing combat excerise, to MK’s annoyance it was the same stuff Macaque had tried teaching him the first time he was his “Student”. Red Son was taught more hand to hand stuff rather than the staff maneuverers which made sense seeing as anything Red Son held would not doubt combust if he used it. After what felt like endless hours they were told to go back to their cell, they both just collapsed against each other too exhausted to move or talk. They only did so when supper arrived.

Another bowl of fruit, nuts and bugs.

Another bowl of human meat.

Red Son just curled up and tried to sleep off the gnawing hunger that had now settled in his stomach, he could smell the meat now even from across the room. He gave a flinch when MK sat down next to him gave a tired smile to try and encourage him, Red Son tried his best to smile back before igniting the flame to keep him warm.

Eight more days past each one where they worked and train till, they would nearly puke from over exertion and barely walk anymore and then they would just collapse in their cell afterwards. Eight more days of Red Son not eating anything and MK could see that it was beginning to take a toll on him as the fire he was making to keep him warm kept getting smaller and smaller till he couldn’t maintain it longer than a few minutes. His hair was turning a horrible shade of dark grey that reminded MK of dying embers and Macaque noticed he was struggling to keep up, but didn’t care.

It was on the ninth day of their ‘training’ when during morning laps Red Son crumpled to the floor. MK ran over to him to help him up when he gave a startled gasp. Horns seemed to be growing out of his skull, a tail now whipped around slowly and where there had been toes where now cloven hooves like a bull… Red Son tried to get up as his body changed.

“Red Son…what’s happening to you?”

“His glamour is wearing off which means he is basically at the end of whatever strength he has…” Macaque declared walking over to him and pushing Red Son onto his back with his tail. “The fact you can barely keep that spell going means you are on the brink of death, is the great Red Son going to die from starvation of all things? How pathetic” he growled.

“F…fuck you” he managed to wheeze, Macaque was not impressed and activated the bands. Red Son could only whimper as the pain rampaged through him. MK knelt down next to him and tried to support him to sit up.

“You’re going to kill him!” MK cried “Let him eat something!”

“I am!” Macaque snapped back “Not my fault he’s too stubborn to eat what’s natural to his kind!”

“Take him back to the cell, if he’s still alive tomorrow we’ll continue our training then” Macaque growled and walked off. MK just glared at him as he left the dojo before fighting tears and dragging Red Son back. He laid Red Son down on the floor, before looking at the bowl of human meat before kicking it away angrily. He grabbed his bowl of food and got out one of the fruits he had left that morning, seeing Red Son practically starve to death had killed his own appetite.

“Come on you can have this!” MK said gently, Red Son sat up and reached out to take it, only for MK to convulse and fall to the floor clutching his head. Red Son didn’t even have the energy to reach out to him but could only listen to MK’s screams of pain. He put the fruit back down and MK fell still whimpering as he held his head. Red Son rolled over and looked at the meat, he could feel drool dripping from his mouth and he gave a shuddering sigh as he took the bowl…

MK tried his best not hear the sounds of teeth tearing into flesh, or the wet crunch as bones were consumed. And he tried really hard not to listen to Red Son gag and dry heave after he put down the empty bowl.

[justlookatthosesausages]

Heeeyyyyyy what a about kristanna morning fluff? 🌟

Every morning he spooned her, every morning he brought breakfast for her in bed. Even if it was difficult because she was always sleeping on him with her arms outstretched on his chest, or her legs above his as she loudly snored - which he loved to wake up to. Waking up without waking Anna up was a challenge he faced every morning, but it was kind of funny. And it made the redhead laugh when he failed; she opened her eyes and he pretended that he was invisible by covering his face with a pillow on his way out of the bed, or passed his hand on Anna’s giggling face to make her close her eyes again. 

However, that morning, when the Queen woke up, she was surprised to see Kristoff still asleep next to her. With an amused frown, she inspected his posture, and noted that it was different from the ones he usually had. It wasn’t his iconic-nap-posture either, as she liked to call it, with his arms crossed and body curled. No, here Kristoff seemed to basically have fainted on the bed and his arms and legs were at random places, and his jaw dropped as he gently snored. 

With a giggling snort, Anna straightened then leaned her head on her hand, her elbow on the pillow. She observed him with a bitten lip, taking advantage of the rare occasion to be awake before him, as well as making sure everything was okay about his health. She gently placed her forearm skin against his forehead, but he didn’t seem to have a fever. His breathing was even, his chest normally rising and--

Then something stroke Anna. Kristoff didn’t have the sheets above him. Which he normally always did. Wait... What? Did he fall asleep like that? 

Anna frowned, her face now serious. The last time she had seen him was after dinner, when she told him goodnight before heading to bed early after having an exhausting day approving all architectural changes through the town. The redhead sat up, and had a good look at Kristoff’s entire body language. Indeed, one of his legs was hanging over the end of the bed. He absolutely had fallen on the bed out of fatigue and didn’t move since. 

A flame of anger lit up in Anna’s soul, and she went on her knees to plant her index in his chest. 

“Lord Kristoff of Arendelle, you better tell me right the freak now where you were last night.” 

The man startled and blinked rapidly as he woke up, tugged from his sleep by her scolding voice. The first thing he saw were the two piercing teal blue irises that felt like going through his skull. 

“Uh... Hi.” 

“Answer me.” 

He gulped, his brain recomposing all the elements. 

“I uh... I did something important.” 

"Something important?” Repeated Anna, her voice twisted. What could possibly be important that she wasn’t aware of? Because that meant that he hid it from her. “Where were you?!” She asked again, impatient. 

Now Kristoff was amused. “I haven’t left the castle. I was in your study, actually.” 

“To do what...?” Frowned Anna. 

“To do all your paperwork, until three in the morning, so that’s one thing less that you have to do today. I saw how tired you were yesterday signing all those contracts here and there, and I figured that it would do you good.” 

Anna’s expression changed completely, and she dropped her jaw. She seemed to be about to cry, her scolding eyes now gleaming, then she blinked and cleared her throat. She awkwardly pat-patted his chest. 

“Well... Thank you, Kris. You’re... You’re an guardian angel.” 

Kristoff loved the compliment, yet smirked. "Didn’t you just say that I’m a freak?”  

Anna blushed a bit, then looked elsewhere. “That’s not exactly what I said.” 

She then went to stand up out of bed and go change, when a firm - yet soft - arm circled her waist. 

“Ah-ah-ah. Where do you think you’re going?” 

“I’m just-- Trying to start my day-- ” Giggled Anna, seeing well what he was trying to do and unable to finish her sentence in anything else than a delight squeal, because he had dragged her back down to bed and kissed her in the neck. 

They laughed and looked at each other in the eyes for a long while, both laid down. Anna’s fingers went on his cheek, her thumb brushing over his new born beard as he hadn’t shaved yet. 

“You scared me for a moment there.” She said quietly. “I was worried you passed out.” 

He smiled, so brightly that Anna wondered why she was even concerned in the first place. Kristoff’s joy brought as much warmth in her heart than the sunlight started to do on her back as it rose in the sky and lit up the room. 

“You’re thinking too much, feisty. Save some of that wonderful brain for later. I was just really exhausted, that’s all.” 

The Queen felt relieved, and she didn’t hide it, letting out a sigh. Then her expression turned to a smirk. “So now you’re in top shape, I presume?” 

Kristoff frowned confusedly. “Uh, yes, why?” 

She simply replied with a bigger smirk and a closer cuddle. Now that only led to one thing. “Oh.” 

“Yeah, that made me think... Now that you’ve helped me out with the paperwork, it means that we got some time before my morning meeting for... Another kind of meeting.”

He lifted a teasing eyebrow. “Do we?” 

She nodded and giggled, before kissing him as they cuddled closer to each other. 

[fortunatelyhauntedblackcherry]

Moonshine - A Beetlejuice Fanfiction 09

Warning: swearing (as always), BJ being horny, fire hazard.

The next day was monday, and every monday night since the girls moved together years ago was movienight. They prepared dinner together, bought a shitton of snacks, sat down on the floor in the living room and watched at least 2 movies. Most of the time they fell asleep during the third one.

So they were all in their kitchen, which had pretty peach-colored walls, a big window framed by curtains with various embroidered wildflowers on them, and olive green / beige french country-style kitchen furniture. Rei was making guacamole - which Sirius made quite a hard activity with all the jumping and whining for a piece of chips or basically anything delicious - while Sofía was talking about her business dinner from last night and Ari was sitting on the countertop, in the middle of the kitchen, eating Nutella out of a jar with a skull-shaped spoon. Minerva was laying beside her on her back, playing with a piece of breadcrust, getting occasional earscratchies.

- So I was like "No go amigo, I couldn't possibly share an exhibition with them" and my manager was like "why?" and I was like "because I'd have to be talkative and cute with them and man I couldn't" and he was like "but they are respected artists in the community" and I was like "yeah but they can't even use photoshop MICHAEL how could I work with people who are sooo past century"? - said Sofía, flipped her hair and took a sip out of her lemonade. - So yeah, he arranged the whole thing and now my coworkers for the next couple exhibitions will be not so known, but rising photographers instead of old people, isn't that awesome? - all of a sudden Minerva lifted her head up, pricked her ears and started to hiss in the entrance's direction.

Beetlejuice just arrived after his hunt for bugs in the winter garden. He was leaning against the entrance archway, and shaked his head in disappointment.

- I can't believe that you still hate me this much, you waste of fur. - the cat hissed harder. - What?!? Two can play this game, if you're not nice, I won't be either! - he pointed at Sirius, who let out one bark, then continued harassing Rei. - Look, even the dog got kinda used to me!

- I wonder what her problem is. - said Sofía while Ari pulled the kitty into her embrace.

- That's the point where you should tell them that "yeah she sees my demon buddy, yeah, we have a spectre, and I can hear him!" - said Beetlejuice in a girlish voice while he stepped closer to Ari. The girl stroked the slightly hissing Minerva, who was now laying on her lap. Ari licked her Nutella-covered spoon clean. Beetlejuice stopped in his movement and his jaw slightly dropped. He started to drool a bit. - Hooooly shit babes, it seems like you know how to turn my software into a hardware!

Ari blushed a bit and tried really hard not to giggle so she started to talk.

- ANYWAY... - that was way louder than she intended, so she cleared her throat - ...what did you do last night, Rei? - knowing exactly what happened to her poor sister (since after she got better, Beetlejuice told her everything), she was just curious if she would talk about the posession of her computer. Rei's ginger hair flew over her face as she turned to Ari and put the guacamole down to the countertop.

- Well you could say I was practicing poetry, since Robert Lewis Stevenson insisted that wine is bottled poetry, but to be honest after streaming I was just drinking and wondering what I wanted to be when I grew up... I'm sure it wasn't an anxiety ridden bitch disgusted by people with a wine problem, serving exactly those whom I disgusted by, but... - she put her hands up in the air - ...here I am! - she giggled as she turned to the fridge.

- So I suppose your "fans" were mean again? - asked Sof. Rei took some cheese out of the fridge, and scoffed while giving a piece to the very excited Sirius.

- Not mean, fuckin nasty. - she shut the fridge and rubbed the bridge of her nose under her glasses. - I mean, some of them spammed my IG DMs with requests of "please send me the bra you wore during today's stream, I saw the strap and I'm hooked", like... Ugh.

- Can't judge a man for wanting some lingerie from a pretty girl, that's my opinion. - said Beetlejuice while he hopped on the counter next to Rei.

- Jesus fuck people are weird... - commented Ari as she got off of the middle countertop. Minerva ran away to upstairs.

- Oh so that's the socially acceptable opinion now? Okay wait... - Beetlejuice cleared his throat and continued in a sarcastic manner, heavily gesturing while doing so. - OH YES PEOPLE ARE AWFUL UGH DISGUSTING EW HOW COULD SOMEONE ASK ANYTHING LIKE THAT EWEWEW. - his voice went back to normal as he looked at Ari, who just hugged Rei. - Was it good and totally believable? - Ari smiled and gave him a thumbs up behind her sister's back. - God I'm good! On the other hand, did I tell you that when I walked into Rei's room yesterday, I almost tripped on a bra? You could say... - he floated next to Ari's ear. The girl could feel his icy breath on her earlobe. - ...it was a booby trap. - Ari shut her eyes and bit her lower lip while smiling widely. - SERIOUSLY HOW ARE YOU NOT LAUGHING YOUR PRETTY ROUND ASS OFF, THAT WAS PHENOMENAL!!! - Ari let Rei go and went to one of the cupboards. Rei poured herself a glass of red wine.

- I don't even know why I'm getting upset by these kinds of shits anymore. I've been doing this job for years, I should be used to creeps. - she shrugged. - Eh, whatever, it felt nice to vent.

- And we're here to listen every time! - shouted Ari, head inside one of the lower cupboards, fistbumping the air. After some rummaging, she lifted her head out. - Hey guys, where did we put the ultimate bathbomb?

- What? - asked Sofía with a tilted head.

- The toaster. Obviously. - BJ slapped his knees as he started laughing.

- Gee, doll, that was good! Your humor is getting worse and worse under my influence and I'm living for it! - he scratched his head. - Wait, is that appropriate for me to say? Or should I say I'm dying for it? Since I'm dead? - he shrugged his shoulders. - I dunno both sound good.

After Sof got the machine out of one of the highest cupboards, Ari started making grilled cheese sandwiches. Beetlejuice floated right next to her and flashed a pretty evil, toothy grin. He wriggled his fingers while looking up at the ceiling lamp, which started to flicker. The girls quickly looked at each other but didn't say a thing. BJ giggled. Ari stuck the toaster's plug into the power outlet, which instantly made it sparkle. One of the sparkles fell on Ari's hand. She quickly got it away with a quiet "ouch", and looked at where Beetlejuice's very uproarious laugh came from. The angry face she made almost made the demon tear up.

- What? You thought I'd never mess with ya, doll? After seeing this face, I'll do it even more often, you angry little toddler you... - and with that, the lights flickered again.

- Am I hallucinating or did ya see that too? - asked Sofi, pointing at the lamp.

- Maybe it's just bad wiring... - said Rei, with a rather nervous chuckle. She didn't sound believable at all. - It's nothing to worry about...

- Oh so you think I'm nothing to worry about?! - said Beetlejuice with annoyement in his voice. - You underestimate me, little one. - he pointed at the chandelier in the living room and the lamp in the kitchen. They both started to shine and flicker in the same rhythm. The girls looked at each other.

- I'm pretty sure that's not bad wiring... I think... - one of the light bulbs in the living room shattered, stopping Ari for a moment. They all ducked as the light bulb in the kitchen exploded. - I THINK THIS HOUSE REALLY IS HAUNTED!!!

- THANK YOU! FINALLY! - shouted Beetlejuice, his eyes and his neon green hair glowing. - I'M FINALLY GETTING THE RECOGNITION I DESERVE!

- IT'S NOT, GHOSTS ARE NOT REAL! - shouted Rei, while trying to help Ari get hold of the angrily barking Sirius.

- It's scientifically proven that they are... - commented Sof.

- Shut up, I'm not superstitious like you two! I mean sure, weird things are happening in the house, like my PC acting strange, or the hairdryer sucking Sofi's hair in, but I'm sure there's a logical explanation!

Beetlejuice grinned like a maniac.

- Oh baby you really want logical explanation? You think there's any logic to ME? Then watch... This! - the demon cracked his fingers and chuckled as he looked at the plugged in toaster. Ari looked at the voice's direction and gasped when she saw what Beetlejuice was doing. The toaster's heating wires were glowing red hot, and an awful stench came from the machine. The smell of burning plastic.

- OH FUCKIN HELL!!!

- Who doesn't like a bit of electrical fire? - said Beetlejuice, laughing, looking at the infurious Sof. Ari quickly jumped up and started to go through the drawers quickly. Sof was quicker, she handed her the oven mittens, which Ari put her hands into and lifted the now flaming toaster.

- Okay... Now what? - Rei jumped up in panic too.

- What what?!?

- Where do I put it?!

- ARIADNÉ, YOU JUST LIFTED THIS FLAMING SHIT UP WITHOUT A PLAN?!?!?!?!

- I'M NOT A VERY BRIGHT WOMAN, OKAY?!?!?!? - Rei opened up the window and pulled the curtains back.

- THROW IT OUT!!! - Ari quickly threw the machine out of the window, into the birdbath that was under it. The flames started to fade and the girls let out a huge, relieved breath.

- Welp... I may sound like a hypocrite but... After this I think we're haunted. - Sofía and Ari both looked at Rei.

- You said, literally a minute ago, and I quote, that you are not superstitious like us two. - Rei threw her hands up in the air.

- I'm not superstitious! But I'm a... Umm a little bit stitious.

- Do you seriously think this is a right time for Office quotes? - asked Sof, with folded hands and an eyeroll.

- Hey this is how I cope! Toasters don't start spitting flames normally, man! That shit scared the living Hell out of me!

Ari bit her lower lip. A faint idea crossed her mind.

- Ummm... I think we should ask our presence what do they want. - the girls and Beetlejuice both looked at Ari with lifted eyebrows. - Sof, don't you have an Ouija board? We could ask them stuff and maybe help them out. So they won't cause trouble like this again. - Beetlejuice covered his smiling mouth with his hands.

- OHMYGOD BABES THAT'S A GREAT IDEA! I never tried playing with those things but...

- Okay let's do it. - stated Rei decidedly. - Sofía! Get your Ouija board. We're adjourning movienight. Let's ask this bitch what the everliving fuck is their problem!

[kiminicricket]

Swords and Opals - Part 10

A Ruthari fic based pre-show. adventure. friendship. bad-assery. fluff. angst. romance. and of course, Ruthari. What else could you need?

Need to catch up? From the Start Previous Chapter

“Working shirtless again I see. You know, attractive as you are, I’m afraid my heart belongs to someone else!” Tiadrin swooned dramatically as she sauntered into the workshop and helped herself to a drink of water. She poured one out for Ethari too, who turned from the forge to accept it. 

“Thanks,” he said gratefully, downing the glass quickly and wiping some of the sweat from his brow. Rehydrated, he grinned at his friend and flexed his pecs, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You mean these babies don’t do anything for you?” 

Tiadrin laughed and grabbed the towel from the hook where he kept it, flinging it into his face. 

“Save it for someone who cares you hot piece of ass.”

Ethari wiped his face, laughing as Tiadrin tried to take a peek at his sketchbook, laying open on her new sword design. He quickly slid it out of her reach. 

“No fair!” She pouted.

“I told you, you get to see it when it’s done.”

Tiadrin grumbled but didn’t argue. “How is it coming?” She asked instead.

Ethari shrugged “I mean it should be good when it’s done. It’s kind of ugly looking at the moment. 

Tiadrin shot a worried glance towards the hilt of her sword as Ethari leaned back against the counter. 

“I dropped by your house a few times, but you haven’t been there.” He said, conversationally. 

Tiadrin blushed, “Yeah I’ve been spending a lot of time in the healing huts.”

Ethari said nothing, just raising his eyebrows, waiting for more. Tiadrin sighed. 

“Damn it Ethari I really like him. Like, more than I expected to. It’s kind of scary.” Her voice had dropped into a whisper. 

“Why?” Ethari asked. 

Tiadrin shot him a look of disbelief. “Because what if he doesn’t like me back?” She asked as if it was obvious.

Ethari frowned, thinking back to their mission, how Lain had followed her everywhere, how he had risked his life saving hers, how he had watched her. “I mean I don’t think that’s likely, but if it’s true then he’s an idiot.”

Tiadrin smiled softly, staring off into space. “Oh he’s an idiot all right.” The fond smile on her face belied the words. 

“How is he doing?” Ethari asked. 

“Oh he’s being stubborn, insisting he’s absolutely fine and doesn’t need to be there despite barely being able to walk down the hall unassisted.” Tiadrin huffed in frustration. “Solana has told him three more days and he is begging me to bust him out.” She blushed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’m not going to do it of course, he still needs more recovery time, but dang, the boy can be persuasive!”

Ethari laughed. “You can be pretty persuasive when you want to be.”

“Especially with a sword in my hand!” Tiadrin grinned at him. 

“Oh yes especially then!”

They fell into comfortable silence for a moment. 

“It wasn’t so bad was it?” Tiadrin eventually asked, “Being grouped with Lain and Runaan?”

Ethari smiled, thinking back to his panic when he had found out about the grouping. He had thought it would be much more embarrassing than it was, but aside from getting flung around like a doll by a giant sand monster he had actually dealt with the trial fairly well.

“I thought I would stick my foot in it much more often than I actually did.” Ethari said thoughtfully. 

Tiadrin grinned at him, “And what happened between you and Runaan while Lain and I were away?” She asked suggestively. 

“I think we became.. friends,” Ethari said, thinking about Runaan opening up to him, their conversation that lasted well into the wee hours of the morning. The dance back into the silver grove. 

Tiadrin raised her eyebrows, “Just friends?” She prodded. 

Ethari smiled indulgently. “Yeah, what else would there be. He is Runaan. I’m just me.” 

“I mean if Lain is an idiot for not liking me then Runaan is most certainly an idiot for not liking you!”

“Runaan’s not an idiot.” 

“So he likes you then?”

“No, he’s just not an idiot.”

Tiadrin came right up to Ethari and planted her palms on both of his cheeks. Ethari looked down at her in surprise. 

“Ethari. Get this through your thick skull. You are worthy of love, and any man would be a fool not to love you.”

Ethari smiled softly down at his best friend, pulling her in for a hug. She returned the tight embrace for a moment before wriggling around to try and catch another glimpse of his sketchbook. He promptly lifted her up and carried her to the door. 

“Time for you to go now missy, how am I supposed to get any work done with you showering me with compliments?”

Tiadrin huffed but willingly started moving away. At the door they noticed Runaan down by the pond, looking up in their direction. They both smiled and waved. Runaan stiffened but waved back, before turning and darting towards the training fields. 

Tiadrin let out a huff of laughter. “I mean he’s a weird dude, but I can see the appeal.”

“Stop,” Ethari said, gently nudging her. 

“Love you,” she said, moving towards the healing huts. 

“Love you too.” Ethari called back before moving back towards the forge.

***

Tiadrin stood up and stretched. Lain had just drifted off to sleep after telling her a story about his childhood. She tried to imagine him as a rambunctious child and smiled at the image it brought to mind. 

“Uh Tiadrin?” 

She whirled to see Runaan hovering in the doorway, looking nervous. It wasn’t unusual to see him here, he visited with Lain daily, but he had already visited today, and it was unusual to see him twice. 

“Hey Runaan.”

He smiled. Or tried to. From what Tiadrin could tell. At the very least his cheek twitched.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah buddy, what’s up?”

He seemed to hesitate, taking a deep breath and opening his mouth before closing it. Tiadrin watched him, puzzling over his actions. 

“Do you need something?”

“Uh, no.”

“Do you want a minute with Lain? I was about to get dinner anyway.”

Runaan shook his head, “No, its… It’s about Ethari.”

Tiadrin perked up.

“Is he… are you…” he couldn’t seem to get the words out, and a blush was forming on his cheeks. He sighed helplessly, gesturing with his hands as though Tiadrin should be able to pick up on what he was saying. 

Tiadrin frowned for a moment before putting the dots together. 

“Wait, me and Ethari?” She laughed, “Oh dear,  no, I’m most definitely not his type.”

“Ok.” 

It was hard to read Runaan’s expressions, but Tiadrin thought he looked a little pleased at the news. 

“You two are… close though?”

Tiadrin smiled, “Yeah he’s been my best friend for a long time now.”

“He seems a good friend to have.”

“A better boyfriend I’d wager.” She said with a grin and a wink. Someone had to egg this guy on. 

Runaan stiffened and then nodded formally. 

“Right, well I won’t keep you from your dinner.”

“You’re welcome to join if you like.”

“Thank you, no. I have uh, a previous engagement.” 

Runaan disappeared through the door and Tiadrin watched him go with a smile. Ethari was right then. Runaan wasn’t an idiot.

***

Ethari stoked the flames, making sure they were rising nice and high. He wiped the sweat from his brow and put the bucket into the hottest part of the flame. He held it there a moment before withdrawing it, giving it a little swirl and then re-entering it in. He repeated this several times until the metal within was pure liquid and the bucket was glowing red hot. Retreating from the heat, he hurried over to the mold, pouring the liquified metal in, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as it smoothly ran between the various elements that he had crafted the mold to fit. He heard the door swing open and slam shut, but he dared not remove his gaze from the mold - he had a very strict amount of this metal, and he couldn’t afford to lose a single drop. Finishing the pour he grabbed the other half of the mold, pressing it together and strapping it in place to hold the metal while it cooled. He dropped his tools and looked up for the first time, seeing Runaan standing at the door, eyes wide, cheeks red. 

“Oh hey Runaan,” Ethari grinned and wiped some more sweat off his brow, missing the way Runaan’s eyes were glued to him. He grabbed a towel from the rack on the wall, “I thought you were hanging out with Lain today.”

Runaan blinked and nodded stiltingly, not saying a word. Ethari regarded him carefully, tilting his head. 

“You ok?”

More blinks and nods. Ethari frowned, confused, but turned to head to the back of the shop. 

“Ok well give me a minute, I’ll grab my shirt and be right back.”

Not sure what was eating at Runaan, Ethari ducked into his living area. He quickly towelled off the rest of the sweat and pulled his shirt over his head before heading back out to the main part of the workshop. Runaan hadn’t moved and was looking at him with something akin to disappointment as he took in the top Ethari was wearing. Ethari tugged at the hem, unsure, and Runaan’s eyes lifted to his.

“Uh, they’re letting Lain go home today.” He blurted.

“Oh that’s great news!” 

Runaan nodded distractedly, still eyeing Ethari’s shirt. Ethari thought he noted a hint of distaste. Maybe Runaan didn’t like purple? Either way Ethari tried to shrug it off as he turned to make sure the safety was in place for the furnace.

“Shall we go welcome him back to the real world?” He said once it was done.

“I think he’d like that.” Runaan agreed.

***

Lain had been awake for the last several days, and insisting that he was fine, however the healers had wanted to keep him in for observation a few extra days. Tiadrin had made herself a nuisance, but healer Solana had developed a soft spot for her, and let her hang around. That left little room for Runaan and Ethari to visit, but they had popped by when they could and Lain had bemoaned his ‘imprisonment’, trying to convince them to break him out. The three of them were more than happy to leave him in the care of the healers however, as even yesterday he had still looked quite pale. 

They got to the healers tent just as Lain was getting out, half listening to a lecture from Solana.

“No strenuous activities for at least another two weeks!” She called out as he walked away. “Three would be better.” She muttered, shaking her head and returning to within the healing huts. 

“Runaan! Ethari!” Lain called out, embracing each of them by turn. “It’s so good to see your faces in the light of the sun! I was going crazy in there! I swear I would have broken out days ago if Rin hadn’t kept me entertained with stories of the dragon guard!”

At the nickname Ethari shot a questioning glance at Tiadrin, who blushed but shot him a don’t even start look. She was following just behind Lain, ready to dart in and assist if needed, but Lain was walking around as if he’d never been hit. 

“Whats this?” Runaan pointed to a new braid on the right side of his face.

“Oh you like it?” Lain reached up to hold the new braid out. “Rin gave it to me while I was convalescing.” He said dramatically, tilting his head to show off the braid.

“Rin?” Ethari couldn’t help but ask. There was murder growing in Tiadrin’s eyes as he said the nickname and Ethari quickly bit his tongue. “Right, Tiadrin. Sorry.”  His smile widened though at the obvious affection between the two. A nickname - especially for Tiadrin - was no small thing. He glanced over at Runaan but he hadn’t seemed to notice. 

“It’s good to see you out and about.” Runaan said, clasping Lain on the arm.

“Its good to be out and about! I was going crazy cooped up in there!” Lain stretched and let his gaze wander around the village. He breathed in deeply and smiled.

“The healer said there was some poison on the talon that got you,” Tiadrin reminded him. She turned to the others, “Thats why he took it so hard. That and he lost a lot of blood on the ride back.”

Lain grabbed her hand at this, noticing her curling into herself.

“They also said you got me to them in the nick of time.” He said softly. “If it wasn’t for you I probably wouldn’t have made it.”

Tiadrin bit her lip and nodded. Lain looked up and grinned. 

“This calls for celebration!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking it easy?” Ethari questioned. “We all heard Solana.”

Lain waved his concern away. “Pssshhaw, I will be taking it easy. We can go to the meadow, have a campfire, do some dancing. nothing strenuous about it.”

Tiadrin looked up at Lain eagerly. Runaan looked across at Ethari and raised his eyebrow in question. Ethari supposed Lain couldn’t get in too much trouble with the three of them there to look out for him, plus there was a metal deposit not too far away that he could drop by to get some extra materials. He had a new idea for a dagger that he wanted to get started on right away. He realised after a moment that the other three were looking at him, as if waiting for his answer. He grinned easily. 

“Yeah ok, sounds fun!”

Part 11 Now up!

[thecleverdame]

Sleepy Hollow - Twelve

Series Master List

Pairings: Sam x Reader, mentions of Dean x Jo

Summary: In 1799, specialized police constables Sam and Dean Winchester are sent from New York City to a small town called Sleepy Hollow to investigate a series of murders. Approached by the town’s council, the Winchesters discover the local residents believe that the murders are the work of a deadly Hessian horseman whose head has been mysteriously chopped off. With help from the beautiful Y/N Van Tassel, Sam Winchester’s investigation takes him further through the dark wood where more murders have been occurring. What Sam does not realize is that the mysterious Horseman is being controlled by someone in a sinister plot to kill the most suitable men in the village.

Warnings: Canon-level violence, murder, smut, horror, gore and a little fluff for good measure.

Words: 40k

Beta:  ilikaicalie

This series is completed. You can read it on my Patreon for a monthly pledge of 2.50. This pledge includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content.  >> CLICK HERE <<

-

The Next Day, Kitchen “Y/N will not see you. She made that clear.” Lady Van Tassel explains calmly to Sam. His eyes fall to the bandage on her hand, before refocusing.

“Did she say anything?” Sam inquires, his stomach sinking at your refusal. “Only that she will not come down,” the lady of the house explains. “I see,” Sam nods, already planning his next move. He’s alienated you, the only woman that he’s dared to care for in over a decade. He couldn’t let you slip away that easily. “Thank you.” Sam turns to go. “Constable, you have not asked me how I hurt my hand since yesterday, which would have been polite. In fact, you have been as careful not to look at it as not to mention it.” She strips off the bandage to show a roughly sewn cut. “Yes,” Sam forces a smile. “I am so sorry. How did you-”

She lunges toward him grabbing him by the wrist and Sam stumbles back but she doesn’t release her hold.

“I know you saw me,” she whispers, twisting her head to the side as she looks up at him.

“I don’t know what you’re-”

“I know you and your brother followed me last night. You must promise not to tell my husband what you saw. Promise me!”

Sam tries to pull away, but her grip only tightens. The front door slams.

“Reverend Steenwyck has power over me,” she implores.

“Power?” his eyes narrow. “What power do you speak of?”

“He knows something terrible against my dear husband. What you witnessed was the price of Steenwyck's silence,” she explains, looking toward the door to ensure their privacy.

“What does Steenwyck know?” Sam urges as footsteps grow closer and the handle turns

“Later,” she quips, pulling away as Baltus enters.

“This town is in a ferment. Horror piled on tragedy. Hardenbrook is dead. Hanged.”

Sam watches as he goes straight to the flagon on the side table and pours himself a drink.

“Oh,” Lady Van Tassel grips her hands together. “That harmless old man?”

“He hanged himself in the night!” Baltus explains, looking peaked.

“Hanged himself?” Sam inquires. This doesn’t feel right, something is amiss.

“Reverend Steenwyck has called a meeting at the church tonight. Every man, woman, and child.” He turns to speak directly to Sam. “He will speak against you and your brother. If you are wise you’ll be gone from here. Steenwyck’s congregation is already halfway to being a mob.”

“We will go when we have done what we came to do,” Sam retorts, squaring off his shoulders. Lady Van Tassel comes to calm her husband and Baltus notices her wound. “What is this?” He asks, taking her hand in his.

“I was careless with the kitchen knife.” She offers.

“It looks angry.”

“I’ll bind it later with wild arrowroot flowers. I know where they grow. Will you ride with me?” Sam leaves the couple and slips silently out of the room. He climbs the stairs and stops at your door, knocking quietly but there’s no answer. His own desires get the better of him and he opens the door.

Your bed has been slept in but it’s empty. You’re not here. In the grate of your fire is a telltale heap of charred paper, recognizable as the rest of Sam’s documents.

He closes his eyes, trying to settle himself. You’ve turned his world upside down and now you’re right in the middle of this real-life nightmare. A sound at the door makes him whip around. It is Young Masbath. “I saw her riding away towards the old pasture.”

Sleepy Hollow Windmill A small pile of straw burns. Gloved hands unfold a paper filled with hair clippings, which are sprinkled on the fire. A cloaked figure kneels at the pile, removing a human skull from a cloth bag. The skull is placed at the center in the flames. Its teeth are sharp, cut to points  - the horseman’s skull.

Van Tassel Estate- Fields Sam rides, approaching the ruined cottage. He finds you crouched over the hearthstone as your horse grazes freely.

“Y/N,” Sam implores as he dismounts.

You’ve made a small fire, casting a spell. Still mumbling as you turn toward him in anger and tears. You’ve never felt more betrayed in your entire life. “You took the documents and burned them?” he asks softly, already knowing the answer. There’s no real accusation in his voice, just a sad confirmation.

“So you would not accuse my father!” you shout, standing up. There’s anger bubbling in your veins.

“I accuse no one. But if there is guilt I cannot alter it no matter how much it grieves me, and no spell of yours can alter it either.” He steps forward. “If you knew my father you would not have such harsh thoughts about him -  nor if you felt anything for me!” you cry out, fresh tears fall down your cheeks. “Am I just another notch in your belt? A girl from the village that you have every intention of using and leaving behind?”

“Of course not!” Sam’s desperate, in just as much torment as you are. “I am pinioned by a chain of reasoning! Why else did his four friends conspire to conceal-”

“You are the Constable, not I. So find another chain of reasoning and let us be.” “I cannot. Not the one or the other.” Sam steps close and you step back in tandem. “I am heartsick with it.”

“I think you have no heart,” you whisper, wiping tears. “And I had a mind once to give you mine.” You mount your horse, which rears up. You’re momentarily like a female warrior, eyes ablaze with rage and sadness.

“I think you loved me that day you followed me into the Western Woods! To have braved such peril.” Sam pleads, unable to think of how to make this right. “What peril was there for me if it was my own father who controlled the Headless Horseman?” You shake your head, looking away from him. “Goodbye, Sam Winchester! I curse the day you came to Sleepy Hollow!”

Sam watches you gallop away, his heart twisting in an anguish he hasn't felt for a long time and he’s powerless to stop you. The Fields

A distant bell is tolling as Baltus waits on his horse, watching where Lady Van Tassel can be glimpsed among the spaced trees gathering "arrowroot flowers." “Come. Hurry up!” he calls out. “The meeting bell has started toning.” He looks anxiously toward the village, then back to the trees where to his horror he sees the Headless Horseman moving slowly toward Lady Van Tassel, calmly unsheathing his sword.

Town Square - Church People are entering the Church while the bell tolls them in, watched grimly by Steenwyck. Even more people are heading toward the Church. In the shadows, Sam and Dean, hatted and cloaked, also watch the people going by, spotting you among them. Out of nowhere, Baltus comes charging through the town square on his horse. “The Horseman!” he cries out in terror. Baltus is barely hanging on. He stops, falling off his horse, scrambling toward you. “Save me.” He whimpers as you embrace him.

“Father?” You gather him in your arms, confused as to what’s happening.

“He’s killed her!” Your father is shaking in fear. “The Horseman has killed your stepmother!” Hoofbeats can be heard in the distance, the screechy cry of Daredevil. As you look into the distance the Horseman rides into view. Instant mayhem breaks loose. The few people in the churchyard flee, heading for the church. Your father pulls himself from your arms, breaking out in a sprint toward the church. “Father!” you call out, chasing after him.

Sam now sees that his "case" is falling apart. He, Dean, and Young Masbath start running in the same direction. Baltus pushes through the iron gate, across the churchyard, bounding up the stairs with you hot on his heels. The Horseman rides behind, closing in. The Constables, with Young Masbath, follow into the churchyard. Sam glances back.

“I know what you are thinking,” Sam shouts.

“It seems Baltus is not the one who controls the Horseman,” Dean confirms. As the Horseman reaches the open gate, Daredevil rears up violently, snorting, unwilling to enter. Baltus makes his way into the church, shoving people aside, searching for a hiding place toward the back as you follow. Men pass rifles from stockpiles and climb onto pews at the boarded windows. Women herd children into the cellar. At the front of the Church, Sam, Dean, and Young Masbath squeeze in just as the front doors are forced shut, surveying the madness. The Winchesters run to a window, looking out between the boards. At the churchyard gates, the Horseman grabs Daredevils reins, tries to move forward again with the same result, the horse will not cross the boundary. The Horseman gives his ax an underhand toss to the ground inside the gate. The ax instantly begins to degrade, like dust in the rain. The Horseman steers away, keeping outside the fence. Sam comes away from the window, looking to the mass of panicked citizens. He sees you pushing up the aisle, heading toward Baltus. You turn to Sam, face aflame with accusation. Sam is humbled, desperate to make it up but you run toward the Altar, where you prostrate yourself, evidently in a paroxysm of despair. Rifles boom loudly as men at the windows begin firing. The Horseman circles, under fire. Great clouds of gun smoke pour from the Church. Men fire down from the belfry. Parts of the Horseman and Daredevil splatter red as slugs hit, without effect. At the other side of the Church, The Horseman circles, heading to the town square.

Riflemen shout to each other, running to the opposite windows to follow the Horseman. Young Masbath grabs a rifle, leaps to join the brigade. Baltus is trying to force his way to one of the cellar doors, when Steenwyck grips him angrily, shoves him. “You'll kill us all!” The Reverend shouts. Baltus stumbles back, topples pews. “You're the one the Horseman wants.” Steenwyck grabs Baltus, dragging him to the front as Sam and Dean push past people, trying to get to them. The Horseman brings Daredevil to a halt, yanks a large coil of rope off a hitching post, turns to ride back. Baltus pulls free from Steenwyck, falls to the floor again. “Why should we die for you?” The Reverend shouts, eyes wild. “Get out!” Others join the rage, pulling Baltus toward the front of the Church, shouting. Sam and Dean join in, struggling to push people off of Baltus. “Stop this!” Sam yells, finally getting to Baltus’ side to try and protect him. “The Horseman cannot enter! It does not matter who he wants, he cannot cross the gate!” At the windows, one rifleman cries out. “He’s coming back!”

There’s more panic and Steenwyck points toward Baltus. “We have to save ourselves.”

In the chaos, Baltus pulls the pistol from Sam’s holster.

“No! Unhand me! Stand off!” He brandishes the gun as the crowd retreats.

The Horseman rides past the front as bullets whiz through the air. He halts at the wrought iron gate, trotting the length. With inhuman strength, he grabs one of the sharp, pointed posts, twisting it free.

Baltus holds everyone away with the pistol, enraged and deranged. “The next person to lay hands on me will have a bullet.” Doctor Lancaster, who so far has just been one of the crowd, now pushes his way between Steenwyck and Baltus. “Enough have died already!” Doctor Lancaster looks to Steenwyck meaningfully. “It is time to confess our sins and ask God to forgive our trespasses!” “Don't be a fool!” Steenwyck hisses. “I warn you, Doctor Lancaster!”

“What is it that you know?” Baltus looks to the Doctor. “Your four friends played you false. We were devilishly possessed by one who-” That's as far as he gets before Steenwyck wrenches a heavy ornate cross from the wall and smashes his skull with a blow of tremendous force. Baltus fires, blasting a bloody hole in Steenwyck's stomach.

“What in the holy hell is happening!” Dean shouts as he and Sam look on in horror. Everyone backs farther away as Steenwyck falls, lies gasping, eyes huge as he tries to crawl away. You rise to your feet and standing, stare wide-eyed at the horror. Sam moves toward you, pushing through the crowd. “Y/N! Come to me!” Steenwyck lays still with a bloody gurgle, face down. Baltus looks to all the terrified people around him. “There is a conspiracy here! And I will seek it out!” Baltus shouts at the crowd. Crash.

The iron post comes spearing through a window, trailing rope behind it. There’s a crack of flesh splitting as the post skewers Baltus from behind, it’s bloodied point bursting out through his breastbone.

Baltus gasps, stunned. He drops the gun, looks down to clutch the post. Blood streams out of his mouth. Sam catches you just in time. Horror struck, he hugs you noticing that hanging on a ribbon around your neck is the little carved bauble taken from the neck of the dead Crone. Almost at the same time, Sam sees that on the flagstones where you were lying there is now a "Drawing" done in chalk, identical to the "Evil Eye" drawing he found under his bed. “The Evil Eye again!” Sam gasps. At that moment, a piece of white chalk falls from your senseless hand. “Oh God,” Sam stares at your face in horror, the full implications of this hitting him. “It was you.” The rope tied to the post suddenly yanks Baltus backward with incredible force, slamming him into the window. Baltus crashes backward through the glass, hitting the ground as he’s dragged outside the fence. The Horseman rides away from the church with the rope tied around his saddle pommel. Baltus crashes through the fence. The rope snaps and he is held there awkwardly, gurgling blood.

Sam holds you tighter, watching the horrible sight as his stomach turns. “Oh Y/N, Oh God forgive her.” The Horseman turns Daredevil, riding back, his sword raised high and chops off Baltus's head.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer IV: Springing a Trap

After that conversation, I sat in silence, increasingly distraught, watching Mingfei and Nono empty the restaurant fridge of beer. By the end of that night, we spent more on beer than on the ramen.

A few minutes later, Nono and Lu Mingfei leaned on telephone poles on the street to do what they called ‘sober up’ and I called ‘display symptoms of acute alcohol poisoning.’

Johann Chu never did anything like this so I was at a loss. Part of me wanted to call an ambulance. But Crow assured me everything was fine and handed me a bottle of mineral water. “Just pour it on his head and face!”

“What? Why?”

Mingfei suddenly heaved an ocean of booze colored ramen vomit that splashed onto the concrete sidewalk. Horrified, I upended the water over his head.

Did Robbie go through this? Was it on a street like this, on a night like this, when he swore off drinking forever?

“Mingfei...” I whimpered.

“Don’t look at me with so much pity...” He gasped. “You’re making it worse.”

“I can’t help it!” My lower lip was trembling. “Did you drink like this yesterday?”

“Not everyone has coping skills okay?” His voice caught and he threw up again.

His tone of voice was so bitter. His eyes were narrowed, glaring at the ground. “Yesterday, there was no way I could sleep in the same room as you...”

He lowered his head, his brown hair obscuring his eyes. “I forgot. This ... this restaurant. It’s right next to the hotel... I spent a few nights with Erii.”

My heart fell to the pit of my stomach. “She’s okay... once all this is over... you can find her and get back together again!”

“I can’t...” He moaned, clutching his stomach.

“Why not?”

“Because... ...because Crow said... I rejected her.” He leaned against pole. “She confessed and I... rejected her.”

Once all the alcohol and food was left on the sidewalk, we started to walk back to the warehouse. I supported Mingfei. Johann supported Nono.  Crow held Ru’Yi in an infant carrier.

I glanced behind me at Johann, watching him push Nono’s hair over her shoulder, just in case she needed to throw up again. We were supposed to be spouses, but here we were, tenderly caring for people we weren’t married to.

The street suddenly lit up, turning the night into day. Blinded and stunned, we stopped and found that the big screen display on the building directly in front of us was lit up. 

It was the video of Nono’s father!

“Moutong, if you can see this video, please be sure to keep watching it....”

Nono let out a loud sobbing groan. “Crow. I’m going to kill you first opportunity I get!”

“Hey, it was the request of the Academy that this video be played eight times a day! You said it was okay to broadcast it so I arranged for the least popular time to blast a big booming voice! 4 am! Hopefully, with the amount of complaints we’re going to get, they’ll have to shut it down after today!” Crow laughed maniacally.

“Good for you!” She grabbed the bottle of water from Johann’s hand and flung it uselessly at the screen.

“Hey, take it easy. Don’t go crazy. If you smash a screen it’ll give away our position!” Crow hissed. 

A loud dizzying ringing suddenly escalated in volume in my ears. I shook my head but the devastating sound became so painful I clutched my head, crying out. Crow caught me before I could collapse.

The pain wasn’t coming from me, but from Mingfei through our soul link. “Mingfei! Mingfei! Mingfei!” I cried, unable to stop.

“Brother! Brother!” Johann ran up to Mingfei. “What’s wrong with you!”

Nono was shaking him, “Get ahold of yourself!”

Mingfei had slowly drifted down to his knees, also holding his head in agony. 

My eyes lifted and gazed into Crow’s. “Herzog!” I gasped. “The King!”

Crow’s teeth bared. “What?! That’s impossible. He’s dead!”

Mingfei was trying in vain to get away from Nono and Johann. He shouted. “Clapper! Clapper!”

Mingfei’s mental confusion overwhelmed me. I felt that my mind was awash in intrusive thoughts and images. It felt like a sharp knife pierced my skull and my brain was getting split down the middle!.

 “I’m going to KILL YOU! Come out! Come out and face me, you BASTARD!” He howled.

It didn’t sound like him. I turned to look and gasped. 

Mingfei had lost all sanity, sitting on his knees his eyes ablaze with golden fire.

Slate colored scales were crawling over his skin. Bony spines were growing along his back, lifting his shirt. His muscles violently extended. His face twisted into a terrifying snarl.

At that moment of crossing over into a dragon state, I felt my mind suddenly pulled in an undertow of Mingfei’s madness. I could sense the seams of elemental power being drawn to Mingfei, like iron pulled by a magnet.

I grabbed Crow by his jacket and screamed directly into his face. “TURN THE VIDEO OFF!”

Crow settled me on the ground. I gripped my head, pulled my hair. Mentally, I tried to encourage Mingfei to fight the influence, but every time I reached out to him, I was swept away in a torrent of mental confusion.

Still, I cried out to him. “Fight it! Mingfei, you have to fight!”

Suddenly, I was released. The pain stopped, the violent mental imagery faded from my mind. I lifted my head. Nono was holding a smoking gun at the sparking darkened screen. She slowly lowered her aim, staring at it in case it lit up again.

Mingfei was gasping, moaning and coughing on the ground.

“The video must have a hidden audio track.” Nono said.

Crow’s expression turned dark. “It was a trap!”

Fingel’s voice appeared to come from nowhere and I wondered if I was still delirious. “Hey, idiots! You might want to move along! You busted that speaker! They’re going to be here soon! Plus, they’ve filled the whole city with them!”

“Fin...gel...?��� 

Crow hauled me to my feet. He’d already retrieved Ru’Yi and gave her to me. A serious look haunted his eyes, reminding me that he was, in the end, a gangster that was the son of a gangster.

He then turned and pulled Mingfei to his feet.

I looked around. Where was Johann? I spotted him, hiding behind a telephone pole! “What are you doing? Do you think you’re going to disappear like a cartoon character?”

We hurried down the street only to encounter a much larger thoroughfare. 

Crow stopped. On the tall buildings on both sides of the street, countless big screens were lit up with the images of Nono’s father.

He suddenly pushed Mingfei away, staring at his hands. He stopped Nono when she rushed to Mingfei’s side. He showed her his palm. It was burned like he’d grabbed a hot iron.

Mingfei rose from the street, swaying like the undead. He looked up at the sky and exhaled a long plume of azure flame! Then he turned and looked at us, his eyes like glowing embers in the dark.

As soon as that gaze hit us, Nono and Crow sank to their knees, overwhelmed by awe. My skin crawled as I became suddenly smitten by his magnificence. Yes, Mingfei, this Mingfei was one who was worthy of me.

He eyed me when I refused to kneel and instead smiled like a little girl who had seen the her crush in a bathing suit.

He returned my smile and then turned away. With every step his power grew. His clothes blackened and turned to ash. The scales that covered him lifted like vents, expelling waves of heat. The fire hydrant burst when he past by, the water instantly turning to a steam that obscured the entire street. 

I wanted to sing. He was beautiful! Beautiful!

I felt someone grab my arm. I looked into coal black eyes. “Johann...?” 

He had Ru’Yi’s carrier. He was pulling me off the street and into a nearby toy store. Dazed, I followed him inside.

[darkangeldesignstudio]

Dark Horse

*I am warning you all now, this chapter made my Beta cry.*

Setting: Post Civil War era USA. Marvel Cowboy AU.

Preface: Your home is attacked by the Hydra gang and you are rescued by Steve, Bucky, and their group. The government agency, known as Shield, wants them captured and Hydra wants them dead. With nowhere else to go, you join their ragtag group and set out on the adventure of a lifetime. Helping those less fortunate along the way, your small group grows and so does your affection for these two rough and tumble outlaws. When the chips are down, will you all be able to escape unscathed? Or will the boot drop and leave you heartbroken and alone again?

Song: Drowning by Chris Young

Previous / Next

Chapter Four: Saying Goodbye

Striding back towards the house, you met Steve inside where he was grabbing up the last bit of supplies from your pantry. It was so empty inside now that everything was packed up. The house seemed foreign and spooky now that it was empty. It sent a shiver down your spine. Looking to Steve, you said the one thing that had been on your mind since deciding to leave with them an hour ago. “Please, burn it.”

Your shaky, whispered plea was so quiet that Steve had to ask for clarification, not believing what he was hearing. “Are you sure? We can bury your brother, you don’t have to burn the place down.”

Shaking your head, you looked to Steve with tears in your eyes. “No, it’s what he would want. Lay him in his bed and burn it to the ground.”

He watched you, his heart breaking as your chin quivered, trying to hold back your emotions. He couldn’t allow you to hurt like this and stay sane, it wasn’t in his nature to wait while someone suffered. Stepping into your space, he held his arm out to you, asking for permission to touch you.

As soon as you nodded, he pulled you into the tightest bear hug, crumbling your last wall of defense as you broke down in his grip. You wrapped your arms around him, gripping onto his sides like a lost child, tears soaked his jacket as he tried hard to prevent his own tears from falling. It physically hurt him to see you so fragile and broken, after seeing you fight so hard against your attackers in the yard, there was no doubt in his mind that you were a strong person and to see you so broken, reminded him of memories better left in the past. Looking up to the ceiling, he was trying hard to breathe through the emotions that constricted his heart, but then he caught sight of Bucky through the broken window over your shoulder and had to start all over again. He tucked his nose into your hair as a few tears slipped their leash and he smiled a watery smile, just now noting that you had already calmed in his arms.

“Are you better now?” He didn’t want to let go, but in order to head back to camp, he knew he would have to.

“Yes, I think so. Thank you, Steve.” You gave him a final squeeze as thanks before stepping back to wipe your tears away.

“I put your brother’s body in one of the back bedrooms. I wasn’t sure whose room it was since they both look the same, but I can go with you if you want to see him before we do this.”

Shaking your head, you assured him again that you were fine. “I would like to say goodbye in private if that’s okay with you?”

“Sure, Y/N.” With a tip of his hat, he exited the house, taking the last bit of food with him.

You walked into the back bedroom that belonged to your brother, his body was laid out on top. Someone had covered him with a sheet and for that you were thankful.

Turning to take one last look at the surrounding room, you smiled. All of his favorite things were here. A few pictures graced the table to one side of his bed, one of your mother and father smiling together, another of John and Duke in the meadow behind your father’s ranch - taken before he moved to Colorado - and, lastly, an older photo of a twelve-year-old John holding you in his arms. You were only four at the time but you remembered it like it was taken yesterday.

“It’s funny.” You laughed, picking up the photo. Careful not to tear the already frayed edges, it appeared as if the photo had been folded and unfolded multiple times over the years and the thought brought a sad smile to your face. “You didn’t want to take this picture with me. I thought it was because you hated me, that you were jealous because you weren’t the only child anymore, and when I cried to Momma, she just turned to you and said ‘fix it’ like it was that simple.”

Shaking your head at the memory, you began to feel the tears well up again. “You told me a story that day, about the time Momma and Daddy went crazy over taking pictures of you. That it wasn’t me you hated, but the pictures themselves. You were all ‘memories are more precious in the moment’ and ‘I don’t need no darn picture to remember my little sister’. But, you let me talk you into this one photo and pretty soon we were going out and taking more together. Out of all the pictures we took, you always held onto this one and it made me love you all the more for it. That day, you became my confidant and my shoulder to cry on.

“I guess what I’m really trying to say is…” Looking down at his too still form, you felt your courage waver a bit. You didn’t want to say goodbye. Then you had a familiar feeling of a hand on your shoulder, you turned to look, expecting to see his smiling face there, encouraging you to continue. But, though you felt his presence, John was not there. Tears tracked down your cheeks again as you spoke, your voice shook and stuttered, but you would not let the fear of goodbye stop you again. “You are my brother and you always will be. Even if I don’t have a picture to remember you by anymore, I promise that I will never forget you. Or the special place that you hold in my heart.”

Leaning down, you placed a kiss on his covered forehead and turned towards the door. Pausing, you saw your brother’s most prized possession, his white cowboy hat hung on the hook by the door, its black band held an eagle feather that your grandmother had gifted him. He loved that hat, you couldn’t remember a day that he didn’t wear it, cleaning the dust away after every ride. It was battle scarred. The leather was soft and worn, more tan than white after so many years.

Looking back towards your brother’s body, you smiled. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll be taking that with me. Think of it as payback for you leaving me too soon.”

With that, you donned the hat upon your head, pulling the brim down to cover your tear-reddened eyes as you went to join the others.

A few moments later, you were all mounted up and ready to leave. The blizzard was starting to bear down, snow beginning to pile up in places. Lighting a torch, made from tar and linen, you rode Boda up to the front door and threw the torch inside. It wasn’t long before the bloodstained wood of the house caught and began to burn.

With one final tip of your hat, you drove back to the group, each taking turns to throw their own torches on the steadily growing fire. You really were lucky to make such great friends so soon after your brother’s passing, It assured you that you didn’t have to be alone again for some time and that was just fine with you.

Shifting away from the burning homestead, Natasha began to lead the way back to camp with Duke in tow. Tony followed close behind as Mark II was overly eager to get back. Steve and Bucky rode just ahead of you, giving you a bit of space to let your thoughts settle.

Looking back one last time, you observed as the flames began to lick through the windows and up to the roof of the house, but something seemed off. You felt as if eyes were following you from the trees, it made you uneasy. Turning Boda, you pushed him into a swift trot, trying to catch up to the others while sparing his legs from too much strain in the deepening snow.

Just as Bucky and Steve turned to see what was amiss, a shot rang out and pain radiated through your right shoulder.

Seeing you begin to fall, Steve ran to your side as Bucky looked for the one responsible. Natasha spotted the man first. It was the one that Tony had knocked out and tied up. He must have escaped from his bindings somehow.

Bucky kicked Sergeant into a gallop, chasing the escaped thug down and putting a bullet straight through his skull, executioner style. Running back to the group, he could only watch as Steve pulled you up from the snowy ground.

Drawing his belt from his waist, Bucky dropped from Sergeant’s saddle and ran to your side. Steve cradled you in his arms, trying not to jostle your wound as Natasha calmed Bodaway as best she could. He used his belt as a tourniquet, slowing the bleeding as best he could before he turned to grip Boda’s reins.

“Calm down, Bodaway. She needs a doctor and I can’t carry her with me on Sergeant. You will need to let me ride you if you want to see her survive.” He felt a bit crazy, speaking to a horse this way, but it seemed he understood what Bucky was saying.

Natasha moved the saddlebags and bedroll from Boda’s saddle and onto Sergeants as Bucky mounted up. The horse didn’t dare move an inch until you were safely in Bucky’s arms.

“I’ll go on ahead, let Bruce know what happened. You guys follow as fast as you can, but don’t risk your necks any more than you have to.” Gripping Steve’s shoulder, Bucky saw the worry in his eyes. “She will be fine, I will make sure of that.”

Steve nodded, patting Boda’s neck and watching as they rode away as fast and as smoothly as they possibly could in the rough, snowy terrain. He only prayed that they would make it in time.

The pain in your shoulder was excruciating. You whimpered with every small bump and jolt as Bucky drove Bodaway through the snowy trails and up the mountain. “Bucky, be careful. Wolves here.”

He smiled down at you. “Did you forget, doll? I have a wolf of my own.”

Bucky let out a piercing whistle that cut through the mountain pass with ease. He only hoped that his white wolf would hear it and make it to them in time.

_______________________________________________________________________

The whistle echoed over the stone faces and travelled back to camp where Soldat was waiting. His ears perked up at the faint sound, but he knew it could only be one person.

He sprinted out the door, the shouts of Bruce and Jarvis trailing behind him, and howled back to his human companion. The sound was both a promise and a threat.

The promise to arrive as soon as possible and the threat to kill anything that stood in his way.

_______________________________________________________________________

Bucky smiled when the familiar howl reached his ears. Soldat was on the way and he meant business. Boda didn’t even flinch. He had one focus, and that was to get you to a safe place.

A clear area between the trees came into Bucky’s view just as Soldat reached them. “Hello friend. I need a favor.”

Soldat cocked his head in question, it looked a bit funny as they were in a full sprint towards camp. “Go, find Steve and the others, and lead them back to camp. The snow is falling harder and I’m worried that they will become lost.”

A bark of agreement was given and Soldat turned, going back the way Bucky had come. He would lead the group home safe and sound.

Bucky turned his attention back to you, realizing that you had gone silent in his arms. “Y/N, doll, don’t go to sleep on me now. We are almost there.”

Your eyes slowly blinked, fighting against the blackness that hovered at the edges of your vision. You knew you needed to stay awake, even if your body protested heavily. “I- I’m s- still here, Bucky. D- don’t worry ab- about m- me.”

Your body was shaking, growing worse by the second. You were going into shock and Bucky knew he was running out of time. “Y/N, don’t fall asleep. We are gonna have to make a run for it and I need you to hold on to me as tight as you can.”

Nodding, you wrapped your left arm around Bucky’s back and gripped his coat in your slowly weakening grip. You wanted to tell him to hurry, you could feel the darkness encroaching on your mind, but your voice wouldn’t obey. You only hoped that Bucky and Boda would be able to make it to camp before you passed out entirely.

Bucky urged the big stallion onward at a breakneck pace, soaring over the ground like an eagle in flight. The ride would have been exhilarating if only you weren’t dying in his arms at that moment. A few minutes passed and the camp was finally in view. The windows, lit up from the fire inside, were like a beacon of hope as you got closer. A sigh of relief left your lips and Bucky stared in horror as your grip loosened and your eyes closed. Bucky thought his heart would stop. But he and Bodaway soldiered onwards, entering camp only a few seconds later.

Bruce stormed through the door to see who the strange horse belonged to, causing Bodaway to startle violently. Bucky soothed him, calling out to Bruce to stay calm as he approached. “Bruce, I need you to come get Y/N from me as quickly as you can.”

Bruce looked wary of the wild black horse, but the panic in Bucky’s voice put steel in his spine. Bucky would never ask for someone to risk injury unless the decision was a matter of life or death and, from the look of the blood on his clothes, this case was dire.

Bruce nodded, approaching calmly but swiftly. Bucky slowly lowered your body into Bruce’s arms before dismounting. Upon closer inspection, Bruce could see that Bucky’s clothes were soaked with blood, making them glisten in the lamp light. Gesturing back towards the house, Bruce shouted for Jarvis, he would need the man’s help if he was going to get you patched up.

Bucky tried his hardest to take Boda towards the barn where the wagon horses were, but Boda refused to move. In a panic, Bucky threw all sense out the window and decided that logic would be the best way to get the horse to cooperate. He seemed more intelligent than most horses, so it was worth a shot. “Please, Boda. The last thing Y/N would want is for you to get sick or hurt by staying out in this weather. Please, just come to the barn where it’s safe and I will bring her to you as soon as she is better. I promise, no one will hurt her while I am here.”

Boda, slowly relented with Bucky’s pleas. His head hung low, worry setting in for his beloved owner. Bucky scratched the male’s neck, trying to reassure the handsome beast. “She will make it, my friend. I give you my word.”

The wavering in Bucky’s voice was disconcerting, but Bodaway believed this strange man. He was strong, the group was strong and determined. Y/N would be safe here.

Bucky put Bodaway into an empty stall inside and relieved him of his tack. His hands shook as he examined the splatter of blood that matted Boda’s shiny coat. He would have to get that off soon, but as long as Boda stayed in the warmth of the barn, it could wait until the morning. With another round of reassuring words, Bucky exited the barn and shut the doors.

Leaning his forehead against the rough wood, Bucky took a few calming breaths. Usually, keeping a cool head in dire straights was easy for Bucky, but this time appeared different. There was something special about you, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. Looking back to the trees, in the direction that the others would be arriving, he whispered one more plea into the freezing flurry of snow and wind that rushed around him. “Hurry Steve. I don’t know if I can do this without you.”

Jarvis’s voice shook Bucky out of his thoughts and worry soon took hold of his heart again. “Bucky, we need you in here!”

When Bucky reached the house, the smell of blood permeated the air. Following Jarvis into a back bedroom, he gasped at the gruesome sight before him. Covered, from the chest down, in a thin sheet you appeared so frail and broken on the bed. Your arm had been cleaned, but the wound was dripping blood onto the sheets and into your hair. A dull roaring filled his ears, drowning out Bruce’s questions.

“-cky, -ucky, BUCKY!”

Startled, Bucky whipped his head around and met Bruce’s concerned gaze. “Sorry, Bruce. What do you need? I want to help in any way that I can.”

“Tell us what happened, first. We will go from there.” Bruce tried to put Bucky at ease as he continued to work over your body, but he could tell that it wasn’t helping. This girl must have been important if Bucky was this shaken up. Bruce hadn’t seen the young man this panicked since the last time Steve was injured. And if Bucky was this bad, Steve wouldn’t be much better.

“Hydra attacked her farm, killing her brother and taking her hostage in the process. She fought them, killed about half of their men before she was captured.” Looking back to your now frail form, he closed his eyes as guilt washed over him. “I was so stupid. It should have been me that got shot.”

“Bucky, I need you to focus. There will be time for guilt and pity later.”

Nodding, Bucky finished his retelling as he paced like a caged animal. “She was coming back with us. We set the house on fire like she wished and we were leaving. The last Hydra man, the one that was knocked out, somehow he got out of his bonds and he shot her. He shot her and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Steve and I were right there, but we couldn’t do anything to stop it. By the time I killed the man, she was on the ground in Steve’s arms and losing blood. We tried to stop the bleeding but with where it hit, it was an awkward area for the tourniquet. I took her horse and raced here as fast as I could.”

“But, why did you call Soldat?” Bruce could guess why, but he had to keep Bucky talking if he wanted the man to stay calm.

Halting mid stride, Bucky turned to look at your body with a faint smile. “She warned me. Through all of the pain she was in, she was more concerned about me and the horse than herself.”

Bruce smiled, so that was why Bucky was so concerned. Sadly, the young man had had a hard life. No one had cared much about the boy’s wellbeing after his mother had died, leaving him to fend for himself until he met Steve. Steve was the first person to care about Bucky over himself and to see that quality in this woman would definitely bring back memories for the man.

“She said there were wolves in the woods, so I called Soldat to guide the others back safely. It only took a few more minutes to get here, but by the time you came out to meet us, she had passed out.”

Nodding, Bruce was back to business, working over your injured shoulder. Bucky’s explanation was more for Bucky’s sake than Bruce’s need for information. He could already tell you had been shot from the obvious bullet hole in your right shoulder, but there was something amiss.

“Well, the good news is, the bullet was a through and through. But, the bad news is, she lost a lot of blood and it seems a piece of the bullet fragmented when it hit her shoulder blade and is lodged in her muscle. I can get it out, but she will be in a lot of pain.” Bruce looked to Bucky, determination was etched on his face.

“Do whatever you can, Bruce. Just, don’t let her die.”

A sharp bark echoed through the house, followed by heavy footsteps as Steve rushed into the room. Bucky moved toward his friend, embracing him in a tight hug as Steve’s eyes landed on your body.

Tearing away, Steve approached you on the bed before turning on Bruce. “Why aren’t you doing anything? She’s dying. You have to help her, Bruce.”

Bucky jumped between the two men, trying to calm Steve before he decided to knock Bruce on his ass. The doc was not one to anger in these situations and this really wasn’t the time for an all-out brawl. “We were just talking about what to do, Steve. Bruce is pretty sure he can help Y/N, but there are a few complications to consider before he jumps into the surgery.”

“Surgery? Have you even done this before, Bruce?”

“In a sense, yes.” Bruce took a calming breath, dealing with an irate Steve was never easy. Best to let Bucky handle it.

The two men looked at Bruce with concern and confusion. “What do you mean by, ‘in a sense’, Bruce?” Bucky’s voice wavered with his question. “Can you save her or not?”

Bruce sighed, they were wasting time with these questions, but they deserved a straight answer. “I’ve never done this surgery on a human. I’ve only ever treated animals, but this should be a simple fix as long at Jarvis helps me.”

Steve looked like he was about to protest, but Bucky knew they had no other options here. “Steve, we don’t have time for this. Y/N is going to die if Bruce doesn’t help her. We are wanted men, it’s not like we can shop around for a doctor. Just, let Bruce do his job.”

With a nod, Steve and Bucky exited the room together and Jarvis went to help Bruce start surgery. Only time would tell if you would make it out of this alive, but both men, despite their panic, believed that you would. There was no way they could lose you so soon.

[blank-nova-trash]

Soldiers, chapter one- Today We Are Ghosts.

Five minutes. Just five minutes is all it took for a life time of pain and moral anguish to be subjected onto us in meer days. Moriarty was definitely part of it but why? How well did they know each other? Why target me, I'm her brother but not the one that locked her up throwing away the key yet, somehow she believes me responsible.

Sherlock sat in the dark, another night where the flames of the fireplace - the only source of light - kept him company as his own thoughts ate his head while he attempted to make sense of the events that still haunted his every breath. Although the fire burned it did not make him feel warm, although his armchair was comfortable as it had ever been his skin still crawled with unease. He sat and thought and thought and thought...going in circles in his mind palace retracing every event, every detail just in case by miracle or mistake he missed something - anything at all since the day he first heard the five pip tone from Moriarty. Of course every time he would slip into these thoughts it left him in the same place with the same questions bouncing off his skull, like a rubber ball against a prison wall. He could not remember the last time he laid eyes on his bed, or on anything that was not his own regret.

"Hello?"

Sherlock's eyes snapped open at the sound only to land on a small girl with brown pigtails knees to her chest in front of the fire place, her voice so little echoed loud.

"Is anybody there? I'm alone and frightened."

His breathing became more heavy his eyes never left the girl but his mind took off at alarming speed.

"No it doesn't make sense" he whispered grogily the vibrations of his rusty throat aiding the deathly thumping in his head.

The girl stood making direct eye contact with sherlock but she wasn't looking in his eyes it was as if she was looking straight through him piercing his mind and soul, her body was motionless as she continued.

"I was only curious I didn't mean any harm I just wanted to see how everything ticked."

Sherlock stood in agitation "why involve him?" He threw his arms out to the side emphasis to his annoyance, body slightly shaking in tention, "she was perfectly capable of doing this herself why get Moriarty to play anyone could of been her outside eyes and ears" he was almost spitting his words at the little girl "context?" He spun around flailing his harms "to see how I worked?" He spun around again, walking to the window as he spoke "to see if I was a bastard? make it easier to kill me?" He cocked his head in amusement before taking in a shaky breath slowly turning to face the fireplace again.

"Because I couldn't save her..." he softly spoke it as more a statement than a question taking slow cautious steps toward where Mary now stood in place of the little girl "is it revenge?" His eyes dropped solemn and tears threatened to break free from his bloodshot eyes as an image of John flashed through his mind repeating "is it revenge?"

Footsteps creeked from the hall, instantly snapping him from all thought and he was suddenly in the present again. The fire almost burnt out, natural light from the outside lightly laying on top of the room as the footsteps came down the stairs, John. Sherlock fell back into his seat scrubbing his dry hands over his face a deep breath vibrating his chest. He pressed his hands together the stubble from his beard irritating his skin where they rested under his chin, he crossed his legs making a mask of stone peaceful on his face - something he often always wore - as if nothing happened. As if he wasn't slowly going out his mind with obsession and heartache.

Within moments John opened the door, walking in eyes purposefully glued to a newspaper from yesterday. His eyes flicked up to sherlock and around the full room, he made it a point shaking his head motioning to sherlock with the paper.

"Bloody unbelievable" he States in amused annoyance, moving toward the sofa.

Sherlock opened his eyes slightly looking at him, "what is?"

John flicks open the paper on the table to the last few pages bending over it from his seat continuing to read. "The paper"

Scrunching his eyes, sherlock turned in his chair to face John more clearly "you'll have to be more specific"

"People are actually romantacising the thought of world war three"

"People romanticize everything these days" sherlock replied, rolling his eyes, voice still croaky.

John still didn't look up from the paper as he turned another page "Yeh, well people are idiots." 

A small somewhat form of a smile slightly curved on sherlocks mouth "hey, that my line."

John looked up catching the rare view, quickly looking back down at the paper "oh no I'm mutating into a reptile"

Without missing a beat sherlock retorted "oh please you look nothing like my brother."

Looking uo again this time catching his gaze they laughed, ignoring the subtle strain awkward strain. They actually laughed for the first time in God knows when more than that they where actually laughing together.

Both noticing the fact, they relished in it however a small ping of hurt rested in both their chests because they also realised how long it's been since they sat in the same room and laughed without interacting with Rosey. They where still best friends John thought and that would never change but something felt missing like something between them had turned off and it was shocking to feel the light turn on again for a mere few moments. Perhaps this is progress to slowly building the bridge again, sherlock thought.

A smile lay on their lips although small it was there, sherlock wanted it to stay like this because it felt right to have John not fight him. "At least if you're a reptile it would cut our heating bills"

With another small chuckle John replied "well no one will have to worry about heating bills with the atomic radiation from the bombs"

"Quite so." Sherlock smiled and silence fell, it was an awkward silence not because they where uncomfortable but because for once they felt comfortable just sitting and talking about nothing at all for the first time in months, neither of them where worring about anything it was as if last night never happen and they where both okay again.

John coughed sitting back on the sofa, not quite finished with the paper that sat open on the table but his mind was wandering more to sherlock now, he looked at him his eye contact a bit more cold than he intended. He coughed again and softened his eyes. Sherlock felt anxious all of a sudden he felt the atmosphere change, he wondered what John was thinking. A few more moments of silence passed before John spoke.

"So you're up early"

"I was tending to Rosey. She made it quite clear she needed a new dyper."

"Ah I though I heard you talking to yourself"

Sherlock froze, how long had john really been awake or did he even sleep to begin with? Taking a breath he continued "well no, I was just lulling her."

"Ah it's just I thought she was with Mrs Hudson."

"No she's in her crib." Sherlock motioned his hand to the white crib by the sofa near the window

Sherlock was shocked he didn't think he was speaking that loudly was John purposefully listening to him? Why?

John got up to go look at his daughter, as he was looking at her he could feel sherlock looking at him with a inquisitive gaze. He knew he was lying saying he was putting her to sleep, cause he was talking about Moriarty. He may not be the best with emotions but he knew sherlock well and he knew that he was suffering although he thinks he hides it, he just wants sherlock to open up so he doesn't drive himself mad but there's no way to get him to open up without letting sherlock know he already knows... it would scare him away, thinking he's just hurting everyone, again.

He turned round to sherlock breaking him from thought.

"Tea?"

"Yes, thank you."

With a nod of his head he walked into the kitchen clicking the kettle on, arranging the mugs.

"You're up early yourself." Sherlock called through "something on the brain?"

"Nope" John shook his head

Sherlock paused for a minute anxious to ask "nightmare?" His voice a little quieter than before, he thought since they where talking now perhaps they could make some progress.

John let out an agitated sigh, thinking back to just a few hours ago when the night had imprisoned him. "No" his voice a lot firmer than before mind flashing with images. sherlock slowly regretting his choice to instigate the conversation however. "I just couldn't sleep" John faced him with warning eyes sherlock continued looking unphased but his heart was pumping anxiety.

"Don't lie to  me John I know when you're lying"

"I'm not lying, sherlock"

"You are wearing outdoor clothes which you haven't slept in but judging by the flattened crinckles at the back you have been sitting in one position for a long time not sleeping but those are fresh clothes, not from yesterday yet, I can smell your body oder you don't sweat unless exercising which you haven't cause you've been in  your room  all night which suggests vigorous sweating from night terror but you're clothes haven't been slept  inas I said.  So how could it of been  a night terror you ask? well simple you where wearing pyjamas and since it was too early to shower you just put on clean clothes there is slightly damp parts where your body continued to expel moisture in fright  as you calmed down."

John shoved his tea into his hand with a threateningly blank face as he said barely above a whisper "shut up"

Sherlock opened his mouth to say something but John moved away quickly,  back to watch his sleeping daughter, not knowing what to do with his feelings of guilt and anger. Sherlock stared into his tea as various figures appeared before him sitting draped across John's chair.

"You are pathetic little brother look at you when have you ever not known what to say."

He glanced up eyes wandering over to Mary.

"You can't blame him he is hurting just as much as you, be strong"

"You should go about it more delicately, it's not fair to resurface such raw emotion all at once." Molly chipped in sherlock bit the inside of his lip

"Emotion. such funny little things, the cause of all your problems, cut your ties little brother."

"Don't let him slip away." Mary begged

"Perhaps it's already too late." Mycroft replied

"It's never too late as long as he is still here." Molly stated

"Yes he is still here but for how long do you think he will stick around he isn't a little puppy anymore he's started to bite the hand that feeds him." A new voice spoke from behind sherlock, but he didn't move. The figure moved in front of him, Moriarty. "You know he blames you right. He has every right to you know, it is all your fault." He lent over inches from Sherlock face hands either side of the chair

The little girl came out from behind him echoing the words "all your fault."

John turned round from the crib to take a drink of his tea when he noticed sherlock staring in concentration at the air. "What's wrong?" He asked a little too angry not wanting to actually talk but still caring enough to do so.

Sherlock startled from his trance with  a cough, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Nothing" he breathed. John decided  to let it go and sipped his tea, sherlock doing the same he held the cup in front of him studying it "it's just... I much prefered the old mugs, had quite a liking to them." John set down his tea, gave Rosey a small kiss on her forehead as he stroked her little tuffs of hair, with a sigh he replied "yeh well  I liked  a lot of things before it all got blown apart"

Sherlock stayed quiet, not wanting  to worsen anything any further, John continued to sip his tea and adore his daughter while his thoughts scratched scars into his brain. Silence came down upon them however, this was much different from  the one before.

Sherlock bit the inside of his mouth, trying hard to ignore the prickling atmosphere, whereas John swimed in his thoughts unable to shake the memories of that fatal night nor the terrors that claimed him as he slept.

At first it started like any other dream- fighting in his war, getting shot but still carrying on through the gun fire to aid his fallen comrade but when he turns the body over its Mary bloody corpse, vastly decomposing in his arms. The gun fire doesn't stop till he screams out her name, when he looks up everyone he ever felt he let down surround him staring and pointing he turns around only to be faced by another gun held by sherlock, their eyes meet and then he pulls the trigger but the bullet goes through him hitting Mary and John turns back  to her as another shot rings and a body hits the ground their eyes meet again after her body dissolves into his but this time sherlock's are cold and vacant. John tries to scream out again but no sound will come. All of a sudden he feels like he is shrinking he keeps trying to shout out but no sound, then suddenly nothing else exists but blackness all around him only  to wake up in tremors and sweat.

John blinked out of his trance still looking down at his beautiful daughter a tear sliding  down his cheek, cautiously he wiped it away sniffing with  a deep breath. Turning around for his cup instinctively his eyes flicked up to sherlock who hadn't moved an inch since he snapped at him.

Pushing his guilt to the side he sipped his tea running  a hand through his hair, he really should get it cut. John felt bad for  how he had been treating sherlock the past while, he had been snapping more and more and not talking to him unless it's for Rosey. At first he thought everything was fine but after a few cases he slowly began to bend feeling he was going to snap. John knew it wasn't sherlock's fault, that he was being a selfish hypocrite not talking to him about how he felt but how was he supposed to? Mary was still a fresh wound, Rosey is a lot of responsibility and that's just the start of it all... he doesn't know how to heal and he knows that taking it out on sherlock won't solve anything but he also felt as though sherlock owed him something- so maybe Mary's death want his fault, but something was.

He didn't know what, but he knew it was something. The something that's been making his nightmares more frequent, the something that makes him not want to eat or leave the flat, the something that makes him too weak to be there a hundred percent for Rosey.

John is a good father, at least he hoped he was good enough. He wished he could be better, so he could do better for her. He sat back down on the sofa sitting his half empty cup down as he then continued to read the paper. Sherlock was sunken deep into his mind palace starting from the beginning his tea turning cold. Something had to come up, something he missed something that could fix everything- it just had to.

The fire burnt out completely now. The sun shon brighter, the normal people started to wake up and busy the streets. The two men dissolved into their own ends of the room giving up on normality and conversation for the rest of the day. The light broke again.

And they were not okay...again.

[leonthecardboardunicorn]

Land of Agreement, Chapter 11

So, I planned this chapter before Rembrandt’s route dropped, so this is gonna veer kinda far from canon. But there will still probably be spoilers for Rembrandt’s route- as well as the usual for Hugo’s, Hisoka’s, and Lucious’s.

A few hours later, there was a knocking at the door. Despite everything, I found myself going tense, but Hugo gently put a hand on my shoulder. “I'll go check it out.”

A few minutes later, I heard familiar voices and relaxed. And our friends poured into the room, and I couldn't help but smile. “It's good to see you all again,” I said. I thought that I'd never see them again so many times, but here they were with us again.

“Liz, are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” I said. “Just had a long day yesterday.”

“Hugo,” Alfonse asked, “are you sure you'll be fine to go with us? Your magic-”

“It's fine,” Hugo said with a smile. “We managed to work it out.” In time, I would certainly explain what had happened that night; they deserved to know the truth. ..Most of the truth, anyway. But  this was not the time or the place for that. “I'm not going anywhere.”

There was another knock on the door, and the others looked over with understanding. Alfonse turned back with a smile. “Liz, we need to speak to Hugo for a few minutes. In the meantime, I think there's somebody here to speak to you.” I didn't have time to answer before the others disappeared into the other room.

“Liz?” My heart almost stopped at the familiar voice.

“Klaus?” Last time I had seen him, it had been right before everything had gone haywire. He had been chasing me down then. To say my heart wasn't skipping a beat as he walked through the door..

“I can't say that I really understand everything, but Vain explained almost everything to me,” he said; I'd never seen him so bashful. “I wanted to say I'm sorry. When Thanatos gave the order to come after you and Hugo, I should have-” He stopped. “I'm sorry, Liz.”

'Don't cry, don't cry-' “It's all right, Klaus. A lot of things happened, a lot of confusing things, but.. I'm just happy everything's all right now.”

I talked with Klaus for a little bit, trying to explain everything that had happened. Finally, the others came back into the room.

“Are we all ready?” I asked, getting to my feet. And just like that, we were on our way, to the final battle. To the Castle in the Sky.

“Are you all right?” Hugo immediately came to my side once we made it to the castle. It was my first time teleporting such a large group, so I was a little woozy, but I gave Hugo a smile.

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” I reassured him. Still, I found my heart racing as I looked at the Castle. The last time I had been here, I had gotten trapped in the Labyrinth.

And I saw a figure standing at the gates to the castle, waiting for us. I stood a little straighter as I saw him. 'The battle is over,' I told myself. 'There's no reason to be afraid.'

“So, you've finally arrived,” Vain said. I saw the others tense up as they saw him.

“So it is you,” Caesar finally spoke up. “You're the man we rescued all those weeks ago.”

“Yes. And it's about time that I properly introduced myself. My name is Vain- Valentine Peers. Your group has also known me as Thanatos.”

“So you're the creepy skull?” Zeus asked. Vain nodded.

I figured they'd have a lot to say to him, but to my surprise.. They started bombarding Vain with questions! “How long ago did you come to this time?” “Do you have time powers too?” “How did you get so high up in the Ministry so quickly?” He fielded the questions with ease, though I could see a little strain in his expression.

And then the ground beneath us started to rumble, and we were suddenly painfully aware of why we were there. “Perhaps it would be better to continue with this questions session after we stop Felix,” Vain said coolly. “Do what you will with me then.”

Now all we had to do was find Felix. That was.. easier said than done.

“Man, these castle halls seem endless..”

It felt like we had been walking for an eternity, and every hallway looked the same.

“Liz?” I froze as I heard the familiar voice; instinctively, I reached out and took Hugo's hand, but he raised his other hand. I took out my own wand as the figure came into view. I'd know him anywhere.

Rembrandt. We had once trusted him, followed him blindly, but he had been using us.

“Don't take one step closer,” Hugo growled.

“Felix has sent me to get you,” he explained. “He's been waiting for you for a while; he said he wanted you to see the revival of the Dragonkin.”

“This is.. unusual,” Vain commented. “However.. it may be prudent to meet with him. At the very least, it appears that sneaking up on them is impossible.”

“You know your way around this place?” I asked at last. “I figured only Felix or Lacan would know how to get there.”

“I may not know this place as well as they do, but I am still the Consort of the Dragonkin,” he said, raising his chin. “Come with me.” With no other choice, I followed after them, and Hugo went with me.

“In all the timelines we've lived through,” Vain whispered, “I can't think of a single one where Willem betrays Felix. And now it appears that we know why.”

“Rembrandt might just be leading us straight to Felix- or straight into a trap.” I squeezed Hugo's hand and continued forward.

We walked mostly in silence, but, to my surprise, it was Willem who spoke first.

“Vain.. Hugo, I've been told that you two are from the future. You've seen what happens when the Dragonkin awaken?” Vain nodded. “And what will happen when Lacan awakens?”

Vain was quiet for a long moment. “It will not go like you believe. The moment in a timeline when Lacan awakens is when a timeline is lost. The world will be engulfed in flames.”

“I see.” Willem looked ahead. “Lacan was dear to me like he was my own brother. But.. I don't wish for this time to fall to darkness. Isn't there.. any way?” Silence, and he didn't ask again.

My heart was in my throat as I stepped into the room. 'I've been here before..' The last time we had been in this place, there had only been a coffin in the room- and Felix was sealed inside. Now, Felix knelt before another coffin.

“It's a shame that you had to see this place like this,” he said without turning. “This castle was once filled with beauty and splendor, a shining beacon of light. I would've asked for a better place for my brother's awakening, but.. ah well, none of it matters now. The only thing that matters is that Lacan will soon be by my side once more.” As he stepped towards the coffin, I saw three objects shining in his hands-

“Felix, please don't do this!” I cried out. “The ending you seek will never come! If Lacan wakes up, the world will only fall to destruction!”

“Then let it fall.” He turned to face me. His eyes were as cold as ice. “You have no idea of the truth of the war, did you? We tried to live in peace with you, but you turned around and stabbed us in the back. Our homes, our families, our very lives were taken from us.” His gaze fixed on Hugo and Vain. “The two of you are Harkin's blood. I can still remember the day that he was sealed away, that he fell. Would you like me to tell you that story?”

“N-no-” Vain shook his head; I'd never seen him look so pale.

“We never wanted to fight in that war,” Rembrandt spoke up, sadness in his eyes. “We gave technology to humans, but they only took more and more. Felix and Lacan were sealed inside this castle, and I.. I was taken prisoner.”

“I was locked away for a thousand years within my own mind, with nothing but grief and hatred to fuel me. Why should I give any pity to the world that turned its back on me and my brethren?”

I felt sick to my stomach. I had heard about the war against the Dragonkins, but not this. Nobody had ever spoken of this. “Felix-”

“I have no more time for humans. Willem,” he turned back to the coffin, “take care of them.” He stepped forward, his horns starting to glow.

“The time for talk is over,” Vain growled, and I drew my own wand.

The battle felt helpless. No matter what attacks we threw their way, it rolled off of them like water. If Willem wavered for even a moment, Felix was there to fill in. And any place where an attack came close to Felix, Willem would cover him just as quick.

'I can't let things end here!' I thought. My magic might've been weaker than it had ever been before, but I couldn't just let things end here. I needed my powers. Dodging another attack aimed my way, I closed my eyes, remembering all of the hours of training I had done with Hugo- willing time to stop!

When I opened my eyes, everything was still; Felix and Lacan were frozen in place, side by side. But Hugo's familiar golden eyes turned to face me, and my chest felt a bit lighter. “I'm surprised you're awake.”

He smiled at me. “Our powers are linked now, Liz,” he reminded me, taking my hand.

“That's good, cause I'm not sure what I would have done without you..” I said, feeling suddenly bashful. But there was no time for that. “I don't know how long this is going to last. We need to act now; what do we do from here?”

“Think now, who do we need to unfreeze?” I wracked my brain, and my gaze fell back to the coffin. I remembered someone examining the seal-

I ran to Caesar's side, tapping his shoulder, and he immediately unfroze. “What's going-”

I pointed to the coffin. “Lacan's seal!” His eyes widened. “You knew Felix's seal right away, is there anything you can tell us about Lacan's?”

“I can try.” He ran to the coffin, kneeling at the edge. My heart was in my throat as I looked back to the others. How long would this last..? But Caesar only shook his head. “This is..”

“What?”

“I don't recognize this; this is unlike any seal I've ever seen before,” he said, cursing under his breath. “It's completely unlike Felix's seal, I can't-”

And my blood ran cold as I heard a familiar laughter. “You could search all the world for information on Lacan's seal, but you'd find nothing. I am the only one who could unseal him- as I am the one who sealed him away.”

“You did?” I yelled without thinking. “How could you-”

“I had no other options. I knew the pain that awaited us when the humans got their hands on us; I would not let that fate befall Lacan. It may have taken a little time to regain my power,”- as he spoke, the stones glowed in his hands- “but at last, I have regained enough to awaken him.”

'I have to freeze them again-' But, as I raised my hand, my power wavered once more, and I fell.

“I gotcha!” Luckily, Vain caught me.

“I'll take care of this.” This time, Hugo raised his hand, but Felix reacted first. A wave of his hand sent Hugo into the wall.

“Hugo!”

It all happened so fast- and, suddenly, there was a body floating in the air, surrounded by light. There was a brilliant flash of light-

And I saw him as he fell, a young man dressed in white. The resemblance was striking, the same soft features, the same golden blonde hair. But most striking was that he looked no older than I.

Felix caught Lacan in his arms, and his eyes fluttered open. Sea green eyes. “W-where am I?”

“It's all right,” he said gently. “We're all right now, you're back again-”

“Felix, the castle is under attack! The Twilight Unit was captured, and-” He looked around wildly, seeing a world that was no longer there. Was he reliving the moment that the castle fell?

'To him, that was only a moment ago..'

“Lacan, little one, it's all right!” Felix said, holding onto his shoulders to steady him. “The war is over. See? Willem is here.” Lacan looked up as Willem knelt by his side, as gentle as could be.

“Willem..” A small smile slipped on his face. “You're safe. I.. I thought I'd never see you again.” My heart ached as I watched them. For the first time, Felix was smiling, tears in his eyes. 'They look like a family..'

“What of the others?” Lacan asked, turning to Willem. “I heard that your unit fell with you. Are they all right?” And their expressions fell. “..Willem?”

“Lacan, they're gone.” Felix squeezed his hand. “You and I and Willem are the last of the Dragonkin. But- but we're going to bring them back! Now that the three of us are together again-” I saw a million emotions race across Lacan's face as the pieces fell into place. Sadness, denial, shock- and then anger. “Now that we're together again, everything's going to be all right!”

“Let go of me.” Felix recoiled as though he had been burnt. As Lacan got to his feet, his gaze fell on me, on our group, scattered about the room. “Humans.” I saw hatred in his eyes- the same hatred I had seen in Felix's, and I wanted to run, but I had no strength left in my body.

Summoning up the courage, I called out, “Lacan-”

“Shut up,” he snarled. “Why have you come here? If you're the one who's taken the rest of my people, are you here to finish us as well?” Dark magic crackled at his fingertips. “I must warn you, I won't go quietly.”

“No! W-we didn't want to fight!” I cried out. “We're not the ones who hurt you! Those people are long gone!” He tilted his head. “The war with the Dragonkins was thousands of years ago!” What could I say to convince him? What could I say to stop him? “People are not the same. The world has changed.”

“Lacan, don't worry about them,” Felix said, coming up to him. “There's nothing these humans can do to you anymore. They can barely even move, let alone fight. Our priority should be-”

“Shut up! Why did you bring me back?” Lacan snarled, all of his attention on Felix now. “Why did you bring me back to the ruins of our castle, of our people? You should have let me sleep!”

“But this is not the end!” Felix answered. “Look at them! Among them are two Dragonkins, Harkin's sons.” Lacan's attention fell to Vain, to Hugo, sensing their magic. “They come from the future- a world where the Dragonkin have been restored. We haven't lost yet, Lacan, there's still time-”

And Lacan started to laugh. “This is the last of the Dragonkin? The three of us- and two half-born traitors? If this is what became of our people.. I'd have rather died with them in this castle, fighting by their side! But you..” He whirled back on Felix. “You sealed me away!”

“Y-you have no idea what they would have done to you if they caught you- what they did to me or to Willem! You would've been-”

“Have you considered that I would've been able to stop them?” Lacan said with a laugh, and chills ran down my spine. “I would've been able to do what you clearly weren't. If I had your power- no,” he stopped himself, “when I have your power.. I would be able to finish this.”

“L-lacan!?”

Vain quickly covered my eyes, but I couldn't block out the scream. And when I pulled his hand away, my heart wrenched at the sight. Lacan stood proud, dark magic- Felix's magic- whirling around him. And Felix..

Felix had fallen, clutching his chest, as white as a ghost. And he weakly reached out a hand to whoever could hear. “Help me-”

[gumnut-logic]

This is the first half of Two. This is hurting to write, so I thought I would share the pain. Sorry, guys. That and it seems like I haven’t posted decent fic in ages. So still WIP, but worth reading, I hope. ::cries at what I have done to the brothers:: I think this is rock bottom - I think I wanna cry :(  Warnings: Spoilers for S2, Sotto Voce. Discussion of suicide.

-o-o-o-

Virgil!

Her scream shot through his mind like a bullet from a gun and suddenly she was everywhere.

He was breathing in the material of her dress, his hair was aflame with her anger, his ears rung with her screams.

No! you can’t have him!

There was light, searing light, red hair, pale skin. Fire.

And an inky black.

It dripped between the flames and where it touched him, it burned.

God, it burned.

He struggled pulling backwards, but there was nowhere to go. There was no way out.

Eos screamed his name again.

And eyes so green, so like her father’s, flashed in front of him, her expression one of pure terror. Virgil, no!

And he was being pulled forward. He was being pulled out. The light was blinding.

NO! YOU CAN’T! A blanket of roaring sound washed over him, taking all thought, taking everything.

He stumbled, a kiss brushed his cheek, and his world burst into flame.

He burned. Everything burned. A wind tore around him and whipped up all the darkness, wrapping it in white fire. It spun into a whirlwind, its ferocity shredding all before it as it tore away into the whiteness.

Virgil blinked and it was all gone. Silence. There was only white, pulsating white, pulling gently.

Eos?

No answer.

EOS?!

Nothing.

His breath hitched.

No. No. He felt around. She had to be here somewhere. EOS?!

He took a step backwards and stumbled again.

This time he fell.

-o-o-o-

“EOS!”

Scott yelped as his brother sat up suddenly, narrowly missing a painful headbutt. But a moment later, he had to hurriedly reach out and catch Virgil as he wavered, groaning.

“Eos, no. Hurts.” Virgil pushed the palms of his hands into his eye sockets. “No. No. No. Please. No.”

“Virgil.”

“No. No. Eos. No.” There was a note of hysteria in his voice so foreign to Virgil’s character, Scott’s heartbeat doubled.

“Virgil.”

Shock-filled eyes looked up at him. “She’s gone. I can’t find her. She’s gone!” Those eyes turned inwards, darting around in panic. “She’s gone. She’s gone. I have to find her.”

And his brother’s eyes rolled up in their sockets. This time Scott was able to catch him before he hit the floor.

-o-o-o-

There was white again.

It throbbed.

He felt around. She had to be here.

But there was nothing.

The white pulsed like a heartbeat.

He took a step in the direction of its pull.

And found himself elsewhere.

Virgil stumbled.

And he was peering down. He blinked. “John?”

-o-o-o-

John looked up. “Virgil?”

The hub was drenched in code. John couldn’t find Eos. She simply wasn’t there.

But there was a single green light lit on her camera above.

He whipped up another window, accessing Eos’ support systems, the cradle that kept her safe on Thunderbird Five. The programs were functioning, but there was no sign of Eos.

Something else was being cradled. A mess of non-code. It ran like a river across his screen, completely unintelligible.

An invader?

He activated the computer’s security regime.

“Ow! What the hell? It bit me!” That single green light flickered.

“Virgil?!”

And the code he had spent so many hours writing to protect Thunderbird Five fragmented and collapsed. The multi-level program corrupted beyond repair.

“Virgil?”

“John?” That green light flickered again. “I can’t find Eos.”

John eyed the strange non-code. “Virgil, where are you?”

No answer.

“Virgil?!”

The lights flickered.

Hell.

“Virgil!”

Still no response.

John hit his comms. “Scott, where is Virgil?”

The voice that answered was hardly that of his level-headed eldest brother. “John? What happened? Virgil is unconscious. He was yelling for Eos.”

The lights flickered again and John swallowed. “I think he is up here.” Hesitant. “In the computer.”

“What?!” A harsh breath. “How is that possible?”

Still looking around somewhat nervously. “I don’t know.”

“What happened?!”

“As far as I can tell, there was an attack. I think Eos intercepted it.”

“You think?”

“It came through Thunderbird Five, but we weren’t the target.”

There was silence for a moment. “Virgil?”

“That would be my guess.” A shaky indrawn breath. “And Eos intercepted it.”

“Is she okay?”

The question struck him hard and he found himself struggling for control. “No.”

“John?”

Quiet. “I can’t find her.” It was starting to sink in now. Eos was gone, maybe forever. His heart skipped a beat. Then another.

“John?”

“I-“

A disembodied hand appeared on his shoulder and he startled, propelling himself backwards across the room. The hand grew an arm, a shoulder, a familiar green baldric appeared, blue uniform, solid boots, dark hair…all slightly transparent. A hologram.

Of Virgil.

“Are you okay?” It spoke, its lips moving, but its baritone voice issuing from the speakers above. Painfully familiar eyebrows were crumpling in concern. How the hell? “What?”

And it vanished.

The green light blinked out.

-o-o-o-

He was flung backwards and the white returned. It pulsed at him mockingly.

Eos?

But he no longer expected an answer.

A step...

And he found himself surrounded by his brother. Scott was holding him. Gordon was staring at him...fear on his face... “Gordon?” The sound of his own voice stabbed a knife through his skull. “Augh.” He instinctively curled in on himself, his fingers wrapping around his head, eyes squeezed tight. The pain throbbed at him mockingly.

Quiet. “Virgil, you with us?” A finger brushed the hair out of his eyes.

“Hurts.” God, it hurt. Scott’s arms tightened around him. He forced himself to breathe, gain control. “Eos. John.” He squeezed his eyes tight.

“John has it in hand.” Even in his confused state, Virgil could hear the lie.

“She’s gone.”

The arms around him pulled him just a touch closer.

Gain control. His head spun.

Gain control. He was sick of being so weak and such a burden. He forced himself beyond the throb of his head. “I have to-“

“Virgil, stay down.”

“No, I have to-“

Scott’s arms tightened, but Virgil was stronger than his brother. He pushed him off gently, but firmly, sitting up, his very bones protesting. “I have to find her.” TB2’s deck plating dug into his butt.

“How?” Scott’s voice was quiet, but desperate.

Virgil ran his hands over his face, fingers catching in his hair. “I don’t know.” But he had to. “Need to speak to John.” And with that he was struggling to his feet.

Two sets of hands helped him up. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.” Both Scott and Gordon in harmony.

No, he wasn’t, but he’d make the best of it. Pounding head or not.

-o-o-o-

John’s voice was fragile. “I’ve lost her.”

Virgil sat on the lounge just like he had that morning, but the situation was so different. No spritely voice in his head, no laughter at his dopeyness, no niece in his head.

He closed his eyes.

Eos.

A step and he was in the white. It pulsed at him.

Another step and he was once again staring down at John. “John?”

The floating figure startled and spun to stare up at him. “Virgil, what are you doing?!”

“I’m so sorry.” He reached out to his brother and his hand appeared. John flinched, but Virgil reached out to touch him. He so wanted to hug him. “I’m so, so sorry.”

John had all the appearance of a deer stuck in headlights. “Virgil, what are you doing?”

“Virgil!” Scott.

He started and stumbled backwards.

White and the pain returned. “Augh.”

There were hands on his shoulders. “What did you do?”

“I-“

“He was here again.” John.

“How the hell is he doing that?” Gordon.

“That thing in his head.” Alan.

“State the obvious.” Gordon.

“Someone had to say it.” Alan.

“And yes, it always has to be you.” Gordon.

“No-one else here has the guts.”

“Alan!” Scott.

“I warned you.”

“Is this a ‘I told you so’? If so, save your breath.”

“So what are we going to do now? Some asshole is out there who has got it bad for Virgil and doesn’t care who gets in his way. Thunderbird Five’s security is down. Who gets shot down next?”

“I don’t see you offering any suggestions.” Gordon’s tone was scathing.

“I had a solution and you all shot it down!”

“Virgil stays here!” He had never heard Gordon so angry.

“And look what happened!”

“Alan!” John’s voice carried just that hint of space static, but it didn’t dull his fury. “Eos discovered a third breach of security yesterday. It struck while the isolator was on! It still reached Virgil, knocking him unconscious. If we had taken your suggestion and exiled Virgil, cutting him off from Eos, they would have him and he would likely be dead.”

There was silence after that. Virgil’s heart pounded, the pain in his head echoing it. It was obvious. If he had left, Eos would still be with them. He squeezed his eyes tighter.

“Virgil?” Scott’s voice was quiet yet desperate.

“I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Gordon was firm.

“Doesn’t change the fact that Eos is gone.” Eos is gone. The emptiness echoed in his head.

“Still not your fault.”

“What are we going to do? We’re sitting ducks.”

Virgil opened his eyes and latched them onto Alan. “Do you have any ideas, smart ass? Because other than shooting myself in the head, I’m all out of options.”

Everyone froze. Alan went white.

“No, Virgil. Don’t even think about it.” Scott looked as pale as Alan.

“Why not? You would be safe.”

“NO!” And Scott broke. It was like the snapping of a tree in a storm. His blue eyes screamed pain and they were in his face, hands on his arms. “DON’T YOU DARE!” Scott was shaking him, his grip hurt.

And then his brother was being dragged away, Gordon yelling his name. Alan had his other arm. His brothers forced Scott to sit down, Gordon shoving Alan out of the way to sit in front of him. “Scott, c’mon Virgil didn’t mean it.”

“Didn’t he?” There were tears in Scott’s voice. “Don’t you dare, Virgil. Don’t even think about it. We don’t give up. We will beat this bastard, together.” The words were rote. His brother falling back on their automatic mantra in distress.

Virgil?

He started, his thoughts immediately turning inwards.

Eos?!

But no, it wasn’t his niece. The voice was distinctly male. A familiar voice.

John.

He looked up at his brother in his hologram. He spoke his name again and it echoed in his head. Terror flared up. John was in his head.

It is just me, Virgil, just my voice. I promise. We need to work out how this all works. We need to find a way to defend you.

How?

I tracked you. I’m sending a simple data transmission. Voice only. If we can work out how this works, we can work out a way to prevent unwanted intrusion.

He fought back the bile. John was right. He stared at his brother’s hologram. The expression on his face was full of sadness and apology, but underneath that was love. He never thought it could be so blatant, particularly from his stoic, calm brother, hair blond, uniform black, simply because he cared.

“Guys.” His brothers looked up. “Do me a favour and tell me that that is John.”

Scott’s eyes were red and it was Gordon who stood up and walked over to the holoprojector and checked the signal’s origin. “Yep, that is definitely Johnny.”

“Good.”

We can beat this, Virgil. I promise you. The intensity in his holographic eyes reached across the room and imprinted itself on his soul. You hang in there, big brother.

Okay.

And it was okay. For all of twenty seconds, when the signal from Thunderbird Five was cut dead.

-o-o-o-

TBC

[asktheasterfamily]

I think I lost my mind...

Summary: ((Couldn’t think of a summary, sorry about that.))

Rating: T

Tags: body horror, maybe??

The fire monster was reconsidering his life choices so far as he stood in front of the body less, grinning idiot that was Gaster’s skull. Why did he thought Gaster was in actual trouble when he sent a Whimsun to call for help? Rushing through the market, trying not to bump or shove the other monsters and human, he made his way to the tower where the labs were. Opening the door loudly, he called for his friend only to be greeted by a surprise jump scare from one of the cabinets.

“Hahaha! You should’ve seen your flame, firefly! It went all WHOOSH! It was amazing- hey! No, wait! Don’t go! I do need help!” Gaster said, calling back to Grillby who was already halfway out of the room. Managing to teleport his head into a nearby table, he kept talking. “Um… as you can see… well, I seemed to have lost my body…”

“How... do you lose your body?” The fire monster said exasperated, not daring to hold his friend’s skull. “How CAN you lose your body, Wing Dings? Of all the things…”

“It… um… I don’t know.” he answered, looking to the side pensive. “When I woke up I was already like this…”

“So someone pranked YOU… huh, justice does exist in this world.” The flame chuckled.

“How mean, Grillby. Here I am reduced to just a skull, and you can’t find it in your soul to even pity my situation.” Gaster faked sobbed. By the time he realized, Grillby was walking out of the room. “HEY!!” in a fit of panic, he teleported in front of the fire monster, only to almost fall down if it hadn’t been for Grillby catching him on time. He forgot he was just a skull and was glad for his friend’s reflexes. “Nice save…”

“I should’ve just let you fall… for that thing you pull back there...”

“Grillby, this is serious! I- I really don’t know where my body is… if you can’t help me I could ask Cambria but... she’s been so busy lately…” the skull looked downright pitiful as the edges of his eye sockets started to wet from tears.

Holding Gaster a bit too carefully for someone who was annoyed, remembering that yes, the doctor was somewhat a nuisance most of the time and could get downright irritable with his jokes and pranks but none were mean spirited or with bad intentions. Most happened when Grillby was in a bad mood to “lighten him up” or just the moment was appropriate like a few minutes ago. Grillby sighted. Annoying as he was, -at least for Grillby, - Gaster considered him a friend and what kind of friend he would be if he left the doctor in a bind like this. He did looked shaken, who wouldn’t be?

Getting back in the room, he set Gaster on the nearest table again. “Okay… okay… I’ll help you out. Do you remember… what you were doing… before you fell asleep?”

“I was here reading my notes, just comparing the results from yesterday’s training regimen when I got too tired and said: I think I’ll take a small break, and then I fell asleep.” he said, his face ten times more expressive.

“So basically, no leads…” Grillby’s shoulders dropped.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t need to apologize.” considering him for a moment, he lifting him up. “Can’t you sense your body… or something?”

“I can only use a small fraction of my magic. If what I had lost an arm or leg, I could easily find it but since I’m literally missing most of myself, I can’t access my magic. If I was a short distance from my body I might be able to even move it…”

“So… do we… ask around? Walk around the castle and town... see if you can pick any sign of your body?”

“Seems like the most reasonable solution.” Gaster answered defeated, noticing that his friend seemed to be looking for something. “Something wrong?”

“I’m not carrying you all the way…” he spotted a bag on one of the opened cabinets.

“Don’t you dare, firefly.” Gaster warned.

Turns out, keeping Gaster’s skull inside a bag was far more irritating than just carrying him around in his hands.

Walking around the castle grounds, everyone they passed by looked at them with odd expressions; some laughed, some got scared or worried. Some of them commented with hushed tones about how it suited the skeleton monster that look better. Those reached Grillby’s ears and was not pleased by it. Whenever someone laughed or murmur, he glared at them, most not really wanting to pick a fight with an elemental. A fire elemental to be more precise. Some knew of how temperamental his kind was; of how easy it was to make them mad.

“How about you wear me as a helmet and really give them something to be truly afraid of?” Gaster said in his hands.

“Huh?”

“I can’t really see your face right now but you’re hands feel hotter under these gloves you’re using. They need to be cleaned, though…” he said, moving a bit in Grillby’s grip.

“You can tell…” Grillby asked a bit surprised.

“For me to learn, I observe. I analyze. We spent a lot of time together so of course I can tell you're upset. What kind of friend would I be if I couldn’t?”

Grillby stopped in the middle of the hallway. Brushing a thumb on the skull’s jaw, he couldn’t help but smile, besides himself. He was just glad Gaster was incapable of watching.

“Your welcome, Grillby!” he said, happily bouncing on Grillby’s hands. “Your hands got warm.” both laughed, wiping away the heavy atmosphere they had.

After a while of walking, the fire monster became silent again. “... maybe… you could find your body… if you have another one…” that had confused Gaster, asking to explain further. “I could wear your skull… like a helmet. Maybe my magic can help you… since passing my magic to you through my hands… isn’t working at all.”

“That… might work, yeah!” Gaster laughed.

Leveling Gaster’s head to his own, Grillby paused for a few seconds, figuring how he was  supposed to put his friend’s skull -who tried a few times to persuade him if he wasn’t sure. Closing his eyes, he let the fire in his head absorb Gaster’s skull without hurting him.

Opening his eyes, their eyes, he could see normally but it bothered him how the edges around his eyes were covered in darkness. “Gah! Whoa…. it- it feels so weird!” Gaster said through Grillby’s fire. “Are you alright? Does it hurt?”

“... just hurry up… i’m fine...” he said, his voice disembodied from how he used to sound.

“Okay, okay.” Gaster closed his eyes, effectively clouding Grillby’s view. “Oh! Oh hoho! Grillby you’re a genious! I can feel my body!”

“Great… you know where it is...” Grillby asked, trying to not push the strange limb from his being. It was such a hard task especially considering how cold Gaster really was. He never had really experience a drop in temperature that wasn’t caused by himself when reducing the heat he produced. Not even in winter did he felt that cold. Gaster was many, many degrees lower than himself, making his body compensate for the change in temperature. There was something tingling on his fire and he didn’t really knew what it was.

“Yes! But it’s weird… why would it be there-” he didn’t get a chance to finish before he was pushed forcefully out of Grillby’s fire. Rocketing backwards, he teleported somewhere safer out of instinct, slamming on Grillby’s chest who almost didn’t had the chance to react. “HEY! What was that?! Did you- did you sneezed?!”

Making a hissing sound that almost sounded like a sniffle, Grillby shivered. “Probably? I don’t know… I’ve never sneezed before…”

“Oh stars… Let’s get my body so I can check you to see if maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Where is it?” Grillby sniffled again.

“In mine and Cambria’s room…”

Grillby almost let Gaster fall.

On their way to his room, they had the bad luck of stumbling into Cambria, who was actually just coming out of a mess hall. Grillby had to dodge her as he was running a bit too fast to stop so suddenly, that he almost tripped with her. Somehow, the Captain managed to maneuver him to a standing position, without looking away from Gaster’s skull.

“WHY IS MY HUSBAND JUST A SKULL?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“Well, you see, dear-”

“It’s not much of a difference, if you ask me…” Grillby said, drumming his thumbs on the skull’s jaw.

“Hey!”

“TRUE.”

“Cambria?!”

“WELL? I’M WAITING FOR AN EXPLANATION.” She said, shifting her weight to one leg. Grillby didn’t want to talk, so it fell onto the resident chatter box to narrate the story. “YOU LOST YOUR BODY? i mean…  AT THIS POINT I BELIEVE IT, DON’T KNOW WHY I’M SO SURPRISED.” she shrugged.

“It seems it might be on your room.”

“OUR ROOM? HOW DO YOU KNOW?” There was an awkward silence that run between them for a couple of seconds. “THAT’S… NOT IMPORTANT THEN. COME ON! I’LL HELP YOU OUT!”

“Really?!” Grillby saw stars on his friend’s eyes.

“YES! I WANT TO MAKE SURE. I DON’T WANT TO HAVE’TA CARRY YOU AROUND EVERYWHERE! WOULD LOOK COOL HAVING AN EXTRA SKULL ON A SHOULDER PAD OR HANGING FROM MY BELT, BUT I RATHER NOT HAVE TO BE AFRAID OF LOSING YOU SOMEWHERE.” she said, rubbing her chin thoughtful.

“You could keep me in your inventory.” Gaster laughed, amused by that.

“HAH! NO.” she deadpanned with a big smile on her face.

As they got closer to their room, Gaster could start feeling his body faintly at first. Hurrying in, he looked around, trying to spot where it might be. “In… in the closet??”

“Why would your body be in the- oh! I get it… why am I sure that this… is just another prank of yours?” Grillby set his friend on the bed.

“Why would I put my body in the closet?!”

“I don’t know. You’re weird like that.” he took a few steps towards the closet. Looking at Cambria, he noticed she was still standing by the door. It hadn’t been that long he met the Captain and didn’t know her that much, but he was sure there was something strange in her eyes.

As he was about to pull the closet door, he stopped. “You were the one… who placed his body in here, right? Captain?”

“WHY? BECAUSE IT’S MY ROOM AS WELL?” she said offended, but the glint in her eyes didn’t go away. Grillby only lifted an eyebrow making her burst in laughter. “PFFF! GAHAHAHA! OF COURSE IT WAS ME! WHO ELSE WOULD’VE DARE DO SUCH A THING?”

“Wait- but why?? How?!” Gaster said, more intrigued than actually offended. “You have to cross the training grounds and mess hall to get here. How you do that?”

“A LADY NEVER REVEALS HER SECRETS!” she said proudly, standing akimbo as she laughed. “AND AS TO WHY, WELL. DO YOU REMEMBER THOSE TIMES YOU STARTED HIDING MY STUFF FROM TIME TO TIME OUT OF LITTLE, INNOCENT FUN?” Gaster froze as she walked towards the bed. “WHAT DID YOU START WITH? ONE OF MY BOOTS, NO?”

“M-m-maybe?”

“THEN IT WAS A SHOULDER PAD. THEN A GLOVE. MY SWORD.” she remembered, lifting his head to face level. “DIDN’T YOU ALSO HID ONE OF MY HANDS, LOVE?”

“Did I? I d-don’t remember...”

“BUT DO YOU REMEMBER I TOLD YOU, ONE DAY I WOULD REPAY YOU BACK IN FULL?”

“Did you? Heh…”

“YUP. NOW. WE’RE EVEN.” she said, booping him on the noise. She turned her eyes on Grillby, who was leaning on the closet watching the strange couple from a safe distance. “sorry for dragging you into this, grillby.” she said in a lower, more apologetic voice than the menacing one from before.

“It’s okay.” he sniffled again. “I’m just glad… I don’t get to carry him anymore.” he said with no reproach on his voice.

“HAHA! GOOD! NOW, I THINK I HAD MY FUN FOR TODAY.” Cambria said, still holding Gaster’s head as she went to open the closet door. Instantly, a body fell down from it, twitching a bit as the magic connecting it to the head grew stronger again. “WELL, THERE YOU ARE, LOVE!”

Grillby was really, REALLY, considering his life choices again.

“Sigh… good thing you love me, Cam… if this is how you threat me, I don’t want to know what you’d do if you’d hated me.” Gaster said as his body stood up itself, dusting his robe and pants.

“PRETTY MUCH THE SAME.” she laughed, handing the head back to it’s rightful owner.

At the moment Gaster was about to place his head back, Grillby decided to leave the room before he had to see his friend reattaching himself. That of course, didn’t stop him from listening to him popping and cracking the bone in place. He waited for them outside, feeling like he had intruded into their private space long enough.

“Ah! Much better. But really? How did you moved my body up here?” he heard Gaster ask, followed by a soft chuckle he rarely heard from Cambria.

“don’t lose your head thinking about it, love.”

And with that, Grillby was off, too tired to stand any more skeletons and their ridiculous antics.

[msilet]

Hello, Beloved Husband (2/3)

Summary: Harry and Eggsy finally find Merlin lying in a coma in Thailand. Harry uses his marital status with Merlin to gain visiting right.

Ship: Harry Hart/Merlin

Chapter: 2 / 3

Link to chapter 1: http://msilet.tumblr.com/post/167977795700/hello-beloved-husband

Link to chapter 3: http://msilet.tumblr.com/post/168964840325/hello-beloved-husband-33

Link to AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12853176/chapters/29435082

Note: I told myself I would just write a small epilogue with the proposal and the wedding. 2500+ words later and I still have no wedding. That will have to be in chapter 3.

Chapter behind the cut

It has been 3 months since they brought Merlin back to the UK. The Kingsman doctors have assured him that Merlin is healing nicely and he should be up and about in the foreseeable future. Whiskey came over last month to examine Merlin and assured Harry that things are going remarkably well.

Another great news is that they located both Lancelot and Percival alive. Roxy had a lot of her bones broken and sustained a few fractures on her skull due to the building collapsing on her panic room but there was nothing their doctors could not mend. Martin was extremely lucky to escape completely unscathed thanks to not being home. He was on a mission and only routed his communication via his house to encrypt it. Martin was the one finding and bringing Roxy in. Eggsy, Harry, Martin and even Roxy in her temporary wheelchair take turn looking over Merlin so that the others can be away to attend to personal and Kingsman business.

Harry would like nothing more than to spend time at the temporary HQ with all the people closest to him but Kingsman has to come first. At the moment he is up in Scotland to oversee the construction of the new Kingsman distillery and below it, the Scottish base. They have decided to decentralize so that all of them can no longer be wiped out at once anymore. The tailor shop is being rebuilt as well as the original HQ, this time with state of the art defense systems. Harry sighs, when it comes to technologies, he would have loved to have the opinion and skills of his wizard. He does hope Merlin will be up soon and help him out because sometimes, all these tech stuff confound him.

Suddenly, Harry's glasses beep. Right after he turns it on he hears Eggsy yelling breathlessly, as if he's running from a stampede, into the mic, "Harry! Harry! Back to HQ! I'm on my way!"

"Eggsy, what's wrong?", he panics slightly, "Are we getting attacked? Is everyone alright?"

"No! No, nothin' like that!", Eggsy sounds like he does not slow down, "Roxy called! Merlin's up! He opened his eyes!"

Harry is speechless for a moment, then he starts running too. "Eggsy, where are you right now? Can you get to him soon?"

"Yeah, Harry, 'm in London, can be there in less than 30 minutes!"

"Good, tell Merlin I'm on my way. I'll find the fastest way possible even if I'll have to fly the helicopter myself!"

"Harry! You only have one eye, if you fly that helicopter I swear to God Merlin's gonna kill you himself!"

"That would require him being able to kill me first!"

"Harry, bruv, I will help him kill you if you fly that helicopter, call the pilot! Now I've got to go, bye!"

3 hours later

Harry walks to the hospital wing, a bloody long walk if you ask him. He can even hear Merlin taunting late again, Sir in his head. All his grand idea of being there when Merlin wakes up not only went up in flames but now he is late for his own husband finally coming back to the living world. Not that he is displeased, he's beyond happy but deep down there's a little pettiness, just a little. He was there the whole day yesterday. As he approaches Merlin's room, he sees Eggsy wheeling Roxy out. Eggsy's face lights up when he sees Harry. "About damn time, Harry. What took you so long?"

"Had to make a detour for something. Am I the last one?"

Eggsy grins mischievously and says "Nah Harry, lucky for you, Percival is still in mainland Europe!"

Harry exhales, "Well thank God for small favours."

Eggsy, and by extent, Roxy, moves closer to Harry. Roxy tells him "Merlin is still awake, come inside and talk to him before he falls asleep again, Arthur." Eggsy nods and continues Roxy's words, "She's right and I figure you've got lots to talk about, yeah? Good luck!" and then off they go.

Harry stands alone in front of the door, wondering why he is so hesitant. The adrenaline level he has been running on is now dropping low and all kinds of irrational doubts float to the forefront of his mind. What if this is a dream and when he pushes that door open he will see Merlin still in a coma or worse, dead? He had nightmares like that before.

"You coward, get a grip on yourself", he mumbles to himself. He takes a deep breath and pushes the door open.

The sight that greets him makes him tear up. It is really his dear Hamish sitting on the bed with pillows propped up behind him. As Merlin sees Harry, he smiles. His smile is slightly tired but genuine and that is definitely the greatest sight Harry has ever seen. "Hello, Galahad.", Merlin greets him with the familiar line. It is their thing; the sentence sounds completely professional to others but holds so much meaning for them.

"Hello, beloved husband. It is Arthur now.", Harry can't help but says as he walks over to Merlin's side as quick as possible, feeling like he is floating on cloud nine.

"Oh, my. Please forgive me, Your Majesty. I would have loved to stand up and greet you properly but…", Merlin gestures to his legs sarcastically.

Harry does not say anything, just silently raises his hands to touch Merlin's face while staring into his eyes. "Hamish…", he manages to choke out, his voice breaking.

"Harry…", Merlin only manages before Harry pulls him into a tight hug. He can feel Harry shaking.

"You're back, you're really back, alive, in my arms.", Harry says between sobs, still clinging onto Merlin.

Despite being in pain, Merlin lifts his bandaged arms up and wraps them around Harry, holding him close. "I'm here, Harry. It seems our time together isn't at an end yet."

"You are damn right it isn't. If I have my way, it won't be over for a long time.", Harry's voice is muffled by Merlin's shirt but audible.

"Yes, Your Majesty.", Merlin chuckles.

After a while, calmed down, Harry realizes that he is still holding onto Merlin tightly, too tightly in fact, that he might be hurting him. He pulls back and asks, "Did I hurt you? Sorry, I was quite overwhelmed." When Merlin shakes his head, Harry lets out a sigh of relief. He sits down on the chair next to the bed and smiles shyly at Merlin. "How do you feel, Hamish?"

"It hurts all over and I still feel pain where my legs used to be but I am happy to be alive and have my mind intact."

"No Kingsman test for you then", Harry grins, his eye watery.

"Fucking hell, no, Harry.", Merlin grins back. Both of them then just sit together in silence for a few moments. Harry uses this time to collect his thoughts and muster up some ideas of what to say next.

"Look, Hamish, there is something very important I need to tell you right now."

"I just woke up from a coma, Harry, can't it wait a few days?"

Harry hesitates but then looks at Merlin, pleading. "I made a promise when I found you in Thailand that I would do this the moment you come back to me. Indulge me, please?"

"Well then, Harry, what is it?", Merlin is fully curious.

"I remember that you love John Denver now, amongst other artists."

Merlin laughs uneasily "Well that's good, Harry, but I don't see why it's so important that you need to say it today."

"Please just let me finish. I am nervous enough as it is."

"Alright, go ahead."

"Hamish, I told Eggsy that when I was shot, loneliness and regret was all I felt, I had no one. That was not true. I did not want to tell the truth because I knew you could hear me. I did not want you to know that while I was filled with regret, it was because of all the things I wanted to say to you and experience with you. I lied about having nobody because I did not want to explain everything to Eggsy and take the focus away from him and Tilde. I was also still slightly confused and did not wish to deal with complicated matters while not operating at full mental capacity. That was a shit decision. When that mine went off, it was the worst moment of my life, much worse than when I thought I was about to die. I had to watch the most important person to me on this earth getting killed without being able to even shed a tear."

"The 6 months that you were missing, I could not go a moment without thinking of you, of what we could have had. You haunted me even in my sleep, saying I failed you. I didn't know how you could do it the 2 years before. Maybe you were better at controlling your emotions, maybe I didn’t mean as much to you as you do to me, I don't know, but I don't care anymore. You are here, now, and it's all that matters."

Taking advantage of a shocked Merlin, Harry pulls out a box from his suit pocket and gets down on one knee, looking up at Merlin. He opens the box, revealing a platinum ring with intricate patterns on the sides.

"I bought this ring before the day we signed our civil partnership document but only now can I do this properly. I love you, Hamish Andrew Ferguson, will you marry me? I mean, for real this time. I promise I would do everything in my power to make sure you are always loved, cherished and happy."

Harry waits for an answer but after a while, none was given. Merlin looks like he has frozen and become a statue. Reluctantly, Harry says, "Well this is the part where you either say yes, try to let me down gently or laugh at my face. This silence is not doing my heart any favour."

Merlin opens his mouth, then closes it, blinks, then open his mouth again but no sound comes out. Seeing Harry nearing a heart attack, he says, "Excuse me, Harry. It's not every day a man wakes up from a 9-month-long coma to a marriage proposal, I need time to process the information."

Harry deflates, all bravado leaving his body. He knows the request is definitely reasonable and he should not be demanding an answer immediately but he'd be lying if he did not dream of Merlin saying yes right away and then they share some sort of true love's kiss and everything would be right as rain, damn hopeless romantic that he is. He tries to smile, "Sure, love. You must be tired, you should rest. I'm sorry for springing it upon you so soon. It just feels wrong, keeping secrets between us any longer, life is too precious for that." Harry stands up and is about to turn around to the door but Merlin reaches a hand out to stop him. "Harry, sit down." Years of conditioning makes Harry obey Merlin's order without thinking. Merlin is looking at Harry now while Harry is staring down at his hands, still holding the box.

"Did you mean it?", Merlin broke the silence.

"Everything.", Harry does not look up.

"I am crippled now, Harry. Look at me, I'm going to be a burden on everyone. Are you really sure about this?"

"Sweetheart, granted, your long legs were so sinful they should have been illegal but they aren't the only reason why I love you. Without them, you are not a burden. Whatever your answer shall be, I will be there to help you through all this, even when you get mad at me, shout at me or tell me to fuck off. I love all of you, just as you are, regardless of circumstances."

"Since when?"

Harry chuckled dryly, "I don't know? I can't pinpoint an exact moment that made me fall in love with you. There were so many moments, across so many years that before I knew it, the only one I could have asked that day was you."

"Th…That day, it wasn't just for professional reasons?"

"No, I was just trying to find any reason to get you to say yes. Figured if I sounded too desperate I'd scared you off.", Harry smiles uneasily.

And then Merlin does something Harry does not expect at all, he giggles. "Oh God", Harry sighs, looking up at Merlin, "you are laughing at me. May I get an explanation as to why?"

"You are an idiot," Merlin signals Harry to let him finish speaking before getting upset, "and so am I."

"What does that even mean?"

"The answer is yes."

"That makes no sense! You just answered yes to a 'what' que...", Harry trails off, and then his eye widens, "Yes?"

Merlin still has a smile on his face. "Yes, I will marry you."

Now it is Harry's turn to be speechless. He just sits and stares at Merlin. "Y...yes.", he repeats.

The giggles are back. "Harry Hart, speechless. What a sight to see. To be quite honest, I expected you to be livelier."

And then Merlin finds himself with an armful of Harry Hart, crashing hard enough onto him that he has the air knocked out of his lungs. "Ouch, that hurts."

Harry is hyperventilating, he babbles, "You said yes. You said yes! Oh my God you said yes"

Merlin pats his back then slowly rubs it. "Would have said yes if you asked me like this then, too. I've been in love with you since our second year together as agent-handler. You were under serious hostile fire and yet still managed to steal that rare Star Wars action figure and brought it back unscathed for me as a souvenir just because you heard me talking about liking the series once in passing. To be absolutely honest with you, I would have said yes right that moment."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Many reasons, I guess. First, it was not professional. Being a handler and falling for your agent is both cliché and dangerous, not even counting it being bad for the team environment. What if people accuse me of favouring you? What if you don't reciprocate and then it would be awkward and hinder the missions. Not only that, Arthur was an old judgemental prick that would have given us hell if he suspected anything. Second, you are the Harry Hart, you could have had anyone you'd liked. I'm the plain Scottish nerd with shit upbringing and I spend too much time with books and computers. Figured I should have been contented with being friends with benefits. And then you asked me to enter the civil partnership and I jumped at the chance to take what I could get without asking too many questions.”

"We have been idiots, we wasted so much time." Harry sniffles, while his face is still buried against Merlin's shoulder.

"I cried so much the day I came to empty your safe after V-Day. I found the ring, you know, I had so many questions. What did you mean by buying this, why did you not give it to me, was it even for me. I thought I would never have a chance to know anymore. I shut myself off emotionally and carried on. Kingsman, especially Eggsy, needed me. Helping him accomplishing the vision you had for him was a way to keep you in my heart. Sometimes I dream of you proposing to me and us getting married somewhere beautiful in Scotland surrounded by our friends and I let myself indulge a little in that fantasy during the late hours at night before getting back to the missions in the morning. When we found you, you couldn't remember and then you did but not really, I was devastated but if you asked me to let you go, I would have."

"Please don't ever let me go. I won't let you go, Hamish. And it is not a fantasy anymore. I love you, I want to marry you and I'd do anything for you."

"I love you too, Harry", Merlin says, a tear rolling down his face.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, Harry, you can kiss me."

Harry lifts his head up, cups Merlin's face with his hands and leans his face in closer, then Merlin meets him halfway. The kiss was full of love and longing and although no magic happens, Merlin's legs don't get magically healed, Harry is pretty sure it is True Love's Kiss.

Footnote:

Well yeah Hamish is a little easily persuaded but I would probably marry someone who gets me a rare expensive Batman action figure too. I chose the name Martin for Percival because I love Lywinis and bearfeathers stories so much, this is a little tribute.

[r5h]

Moving On—Interlude III: The Scientist

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Major props to @hecallsmehischild, without whose help this chapter wouldn’t be out for quite some time. (Go read her fanfiction, it’s good!)

“Take it,” Cherry said.

Her brother leaned forward in an old, upholstered chair. Its dark fabric combined with his skull face, funeral clothes, and lurid locket to paint a bleak, moody picture. Cherry imagined him in some of the poems from that Edgar Allan Poe book—Lewis had given it to her for Christmas a while before—and decided he fit perfectly.

Lewis looked down at the Sailor Moon-themed bandaid outstretched in Cherry's hand, which did not fit perfectly. “Cherry, thank you, but....” He looked down at his cracked locket, then back into her eyes. “I don't know if this will help.”

“Bandaids always help. Take it!” She shoved it closer to his locket.

“That doesn't seem to be how it heals,” he said, holding the locket in both hands. “And it's already better than it was before, right?”

Cherry had to agree: before the locket had been cracked all the way across its front, but now the damage only went halfway across the face. She wasn't sure when it had happened: one moment she'd seen it cracking worse than before in the restaurant, then they were all making up, and then the next time she'd gotten a look at it, all the new cracks were gone, and so was a lot of the old crack.

But that was no excuse. Cherry glanced up at him: just up enough to see the skull, and then she looked straight forward at the locket before she could see his fire—his hair. “You gotta put a bandaid on it,” she said, pouting because this was first grade stuff, and she was at least third grade smart: he knew more stuff than her in turn, so shouldn't he know this stuff too? “So that it can heal properly.”

Lewis just kept looking at her—he saw his sockets staring blankly in her peripheral vision—so she groaned. “So your soul goo doesn't leak out! Duh! You're gonna get a ghost infection!”

“I don't think I....” Lewis stopped talking, then laughed gently. “Well, all right.”

He didn't move away as she pulled the paper off the bandaid and applied it, ever so carefully, to his locket's crack. When she was done, the whole crack was covered, and Cherry smiled. “There,” she said. “Now mean ghosts can't slip in and possess you.”

Lewis lifted a finger halfway before stopping and tilting his head; then the finger moved to rest lightly upon the bandaid. “Hmm.” He traced the length of the crack under its cover, wincing slightly as he did so. “Thank you,” he said. There was something in the way he held his head: even though she couldn't see a mouth, she could see him smiling.

Cherry felt herself beaming—almost as if actual light was coming from her, not just a smile. “By the way,” she added, “there's this thing I wanted to ask you, but Dad said to ask Mom, and Mom said to ask Dad, and maybe you know it?”

Lewis nodded, leaning toward her once more, still with that undefinable smile.

“You know that word Ginnie said yesterday, the one she got in trouble for?” His smile seemed to be disappearing. She persevered. “What does it—”

The phone rang from the kitchen. Lewis immediately stood from the seat and stepped clean over her head to stride over there. Cherry followed with a disappointed pout—but she'd be able to ask later.

Lewis picked up the phone. “Hello, Pepper household.” A pause, and then Cherry saw his shoulders relax a little with happiness, as he said, “Vivi!” Then, however, he frowned—well, his face didn't frown, because he didn't have one at the moment, but his whole body sort of frowned. He leaned forward slightly, slumping his head with annoyance. Then, he groaned and pressed the 'speaker' button on the phone's charging dock. Immediately, Vivi's voice rang out:

“—gonna assume that's Lewis trying to talk to me—Lewis, you're a ghost now, regular cameras can't see you, and regular phones can't hear you. If that is you on the other end, you're gonna need someone to transcribe—trans-say, whatever—so that I can hear you, okay?”

“Would you, please?” Lewis murmured, glancing down at Cherry.

“I'm just gonna keep talking,” Vivi continued, “until I hear someone—”

“Hello?” Cherry asked.

There was a pause. “Bell! Hello, how are you doing?”

“I'm... Cherry.”

“Cherry, Cherry, oh my gadzooks I am sorry!” Nervous laughter came through the phone line. “The audio quality's not that great. Anyway, Lewis is there, right?”

“Yeah,” Cherry replied.

“Hello, Vivi,” he said.

“He says hello.”

“Hi, Lewis! Okay, um. This is going to be weird if your little sister is the intermediary, but... whatever, it was gonna be weird no matter how I said it. Lewis, I'd like for you to....”

A series of “ums” and “ahs” followed, as Vivi tried to figure out how to say whatever it was she was going to say. Meanwhile, something occurred to Cherry—how come a phone couldn't hear Lewis, but she could?

She remembered what Dad had told her—sounds were actually vibrations in the air, and then they vibrated your ear and that was how you heard things. She pulled out a chair from under the kitchen counter, climbed up on it, and grabbed a napkin. “Testing,” she said, with the napkin almost touching her mouth: the napkin fluttered as she spoke.

“Okay, I think I'm ready,” Vivi said. “Still there, Lewis?”

“Yes,” he said. Cherry echoed him as she laboriously pushed the chair over to his side, the friction making sounds like a brass horn. “What are you doing?” he asked, looking down at her.

“What are you doing?” Cherry asked, then realized—with a blush appropriate to her name—that this line hadn't been meant for Vivi.

“What I am doing,” Vivi replied, “is saying this: Lewis. I would like. For you. To come over to my house.”

Cherry was finished pushing the chair, and she clambered upon it again as Lewis leaned forward expectantly. She held the napkin in front of where his mouth would be.

“Privately,” Vivi added.

“Privately?” Lewis asked, eyesockets widening. The napkin didn't flutter at all. Cherry repeated the word, the implications filling her mind. Mostly the implications about the napkin, though she knew 'privately' probably implied things too, even if they weren't as interesting things.

“Privately,” Vivi repeated. “Okay, wow, I guess we've probably said 'privately' four times and I'm totally semantically satiated, privately privately privately shut up Vivi.” Resonant slapping sounds cut her off: she was probably smacking herself in the head. “It is not, let's be clear, a date. Not exactly. But it is at least a friendly visit between two people, one of whom would like to get to know the other one better. So, uh, what times work for you this weekend?”

Lewis pressed his fingertips against his chest and scratched without seeming to realize it. “I... don't have a job, per se, so... tell her any time,” he said, glancing down at Cherry before his stare returned to nothing in particular.

“Lewis says any time,” she said.

“Awesome! Okay, then let's go for noon on Saturday. Sounds good to you?” Vivi's voice was accelerating. “Sounds good to me. Oh, almost forgot, bring your violin, okay? Okay, Lewis and Cherry, thanks! Talk to you later! Bye!”

Cherry thought she heard a deep breath heaved on Vivi's end of the line, one which sounded like the first of many, just before the call ended. Then again it could have been static. Whatever—the conclusions she could draw from this were huge!

“You're psychic!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

“A date!” Lewis said, scratching his chest more rapidly. “A date with Vivi!”

“Lewis, didn't you hear me? You're a tele—wait,” Cherry said, squinting. “Didn't she say it wasn't a date?”

“My violin,” he said, turning around absentmindedly and walking out of the kitchen. For Lewis, it wasn't a fast pace—for Cherry, whose legs clocked in at approximately a third of the length of his, it was pretty fast. “She wanted me to bring it. I think I left it in my room—it's been a year, have Mom and Dad been tuning it?”

“Come on, Lewis, listen!” Cherry ran up the stairs behind him as he took them, with unthinking ease, three at a time. “If you're not talking with regular sounds, then either you've gotta be talking with weird ghost sounds, which is crazy, or you're just using telepathy to talk right into people's—”

Lewis walked into his room, and forgot to open the door first. His body phased right through, leaving Cherry stuck outside. “Brains,” she finished.

She looked up and realized she wasn't the only thing stuck outside. The Sailor Moon bandaid she'd applied not ten minutes before had failed to pass through the door with the rest of Lewis, and was now adhered to the dark brown wood.

Cherry frowned. Sometimes, Lewis didn't know how to worry about the important stuff.

Lewis stared at Vivi's tiny, yellowing front lawn, and imagined the smell of October grass. Then he stepped up to her porch, violin case in hand.

He'd had all sorts of plans. An impressive entrance in a cloud of flame and smoke, astonishing Vivi as he appeared out of nowhere and swept her off her feet upon the doorstep. And perhaps a full choir of Deadbeats, who would have happily provided backing vocals on any lovesong he could have cared to name: “My Girl”, “Fly Me to the Moon”, anything—he could take his pick. Dozens of grand romantic gestures had paraded their way though his head, in the sleepless nights leading up to their date.

Except, of course, that it wasn't a date. She'd been insistent on the point.

Lewis reached up to knock at Vivi's simple, slightly disrepaired wooden door. He hesitated, opened his case, pulled out his violin, and quietly tested that it was in tune. Satisfied, he returned it to its case, and stood straighter as he knocked three times.

It wasn't a date. Of course. But no point in doing this if he wasn't doing it right, after all. Fifth impressions were important.

After a couple of footsteps from inside, Vivi opened the door partway, and the first thing he noticed was the awkward smile on her face as she looked up. The second thing was the strap over her shoulder. “Vivi,” he said, nodding in greeting—was that enough? Should he do something friendlier?

“Hey there!” She half-extended her hand to shake, before raising it for a clumsy wave. “So, ready for our re-first non-date?”

“Hm?”

“Or maybe our first re-non-date....”

“Perhaps—” Lewis decided: he offered his hand to shake. “Just a meeting.”

“What kinda made-up word is that?” Vivi laughed, and grabbed his hand. After a few good shakes, she quickly released it and turned slightly—Lewis made to walk forward, but she was just lifting the strap from her shoulder, and hefting what it was attached to.

“So,” she said, holding up her guitar in front of herself. “I found this in my closet. Look familiar to you?”

Lewis's eyes widened: he hadn't seen it in a while. Vivi's guitar wasn't particularly well taken-care of: the clean curve defining the guitar's face was marred with chips and scratches, like dog-ears in a well-read book. It looked a little dustier than he'd remembered—but yes, he recognized this.

“Because here's the thing,” Vivi continued, “it doesn't look familiar to me. I think I know how to play it a little bit, but I can hardly remember ever seeing this thing. I don't remember noticing it all year—I must have been tripping over it and not realizing every time I used that dang closet.” She snorted with something like frustration. “Which means, something about this guitar has a lot to do with you, right?”

Lewis nodded. “We met a lot, before we were officially dating—you wanted me to help you learn to play the guitar. I told you I only knew how to play the violin, but you said it was close enough.”

“Well, it is, isn't it? They're basically the same idea.”

“I eventually decided it was just an excuse to spend time with me.”

Well, it is, isn't—” Vivi caught herself, with a blush that seemed to glow brighter than Lewis could. “Anyway, the point is that thanks to you—” she shot him a stink-eye, but without actual malice to it “—I no longer remember how to play guitar. So I was wondering if you'd be willing to help me relearn.”

Lewis smiled. “I would be delighted. May I come in?”

He rested his violin on his shoulder and, once more, made to step forward—but Vivi didn't budge, and her shoulders were tensed. She stared up at him and, after a few seconds, blurted out, “So, how's the family doing?”

His eyes narrowed as he gently lowered his foot. “Are you stalling?”

“Yes I am.” She looked relieved to have been found out: her shoulders relaxed immediately.

“Hm.” He considered this for a few seconds. “Why are you stalling?”

“Well.” Vivi leaned against the doorframe. “Erm. The thing is... the thing is....”

A compact white shape interposed itself between Vivi's legs and the door. “I believe this is where I come in.”

Lewis looked down at the voice, and saw Mystery—small dog Mystery, not giant kitsune Mystery—standing in front of her. “Hello, Lewis,” he said.

Lewis stared at him. “Hello, Mystery,” he said flatly.

“Sorry, am I butting into your private time together? I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable just because I'm around.” Mystery wore the most self-satisfied grin Lewis could remember seeing. And Lewis distinctly remembered the vetala.

“Uh, yeah,” Vivi said, as her lean deepened into a slump. “He's 'the thing'. Sorry.”

Lewis looked back her way, jabbing his index finger down. “What is he doing here?”

Mystery laughed. “You know I live here, right?”

“Ugh, come on in, I'll tell you.” Vivi opened the door fully and walked inside, with a more sullen gait than Lewis was used to seeing.

What a day.

Vivi slumped against her front door with a groan, dawdling for a minute before she pulled out her key. She hadn't had much time to dally after the vetala was destroyed, and after Lewis reconciled with his family: she had to run back to Tome Tomb, if she wanted any chance at keeping a job.

Somehow, Duet had been satisfied with her vague explanation of “family troubles”, albeit after one of his weird, personal-space-invading forehead touches. So she'd gotten to keep her job—which was somewhat difficult to get excited about.

And then there had been Chloe, and the tedium, and her muscles still aching, and just somehow her day had managed to be the perfect mix of bad supernatural stuff and bad mundane stuff. Like some sort of combination fan-vacuum, it both sucked and blew.

At last she pulled out her key, shoved it in the lock, and opened it. She was so ready to fall into a bed.

Vivi barely had time to comprehend the white blur of movement before it slammed her, knocking her hard on her back against the slats of the porch. She'd instinctively exhaled just before impact, so she didn't have the wind knocked out of her, but that didn't exactly make the experience fun. She blinked the spots out of her eyes.

When her vision cleared, she saw a tiny pair of yellow spectacles, resting on a panting snout in front of furious black eyes. “Er... hello, Hobbes?” she said, as hot, dry breaths abraded her face.

“That's not my name,” Mystery growled. “What were you thinking?”

He was big. Not as gigantic as she'd ever seen him, but certainly bigger than the lap-dog he usually masqueraded as. This seemed to be an intermediate form, big enough to pin her but small enough to fit through her door. She could see a sort of haze behind his head where his tails would be—or maybe that was just the recent cranial trauma messing with her vision.

Vivi glared back at him, as best as she could. “Could you get more specific? And also, off me?” She struggled to lift her arm to push at him, but it was held down by his paw. Mystery had successfully held down Lewis, so Vivi guessed she didn't have much chance of getting free, but she had to try.

“You were dealing with an immensely dangerous creature, and your best idea was to attack it with someone who would make it more dangerous. What were you thinking?”

“We didn't,” Vivi said, enunciating each syllable in her frustration, “have a lot of time—”

“You had me!”

Mystery's fangs were bared, right up against her nose. He snarled again, before continuing, “Or at least you would have had me if you'd thought. You could have come and gotten me, and I would have been in and out of that restaurant in a minute. No stupid emotions, just one destroyed vetala!”

He pushed himself off of her, briefly putting a shock-load of force on Vivi's forearms: she let out a muffled cry of pain, to her displeasure. He turned around and slowly walked back into the house. “What were you thinking,” he muttered.

With many a grunt of discomfort, Vivi pushed herself to her feet. “If you were so consarned concerned, maybe you could have come on your own? No one was stopping you.” She rubbed her inner forearms, trying to mitigate the pain, as she stumbled through the door.

Mystery glared at her over his shoulder, as he stalked his way over to the other end of the room. “I don't know if you understand this, but I have a cover. There's a reason I don't go around everywhere at full size, and it's not just because of your pitiful human ceilings.”

“So come over as a regular dog!”

“How fast does a regular dog run? And that's not the point—the point is that you need to start taking some responsibility for your team's well-being.” Mystery turned in a circle on the spot, like an angry cat, then dropped into a resting position. His illusory tails curled around his entire body with their tips pointed slightly up, like some sort of huffy lotus flower.

“Oh, like you did?” Vivi slumped onto her couch with the approximate grace and self-control of a crash test dummy. “Don't act like your phone call thing was any sort of great idea, either. Getting me to guilt-trip Lewis just after the nick of time—what were you thinking?” She flopped an accusatory hand at him.

“You're all still alive, aren't you?” His eye swiveled her way, but the rest of his face stayed sullenly pointed away. He shifted a bit, burying his snout deeper into his body, and muttered, “At least the ones I could keep alive, this time—”

Mystery cut himself off, and glanced her way: then, with a muffled growl, he turned entirely away.

Vivi sighed. From here, he looked... well, she was starting to get the feeling she wasn't great at reading people, and she could only imagine reading dog-kitsune-intermediate-stage things would be even tougher. But, if she had to hazard a guess—and life seemed to be telling her, loud and clear, that she did have to—then she'd have said that Mystery looked worried.

“Mystery,” she said, “I'm sorry I didn't—”

“Keys,” he interrupted, without moving.

Vivi blinked. “What?”

“Another reason I couldn't exactly come on my own? You lock your condo up each day you leave for work, and you don't leave a key in here. It's like you think you live alone, without any other sentient creatures in the building.”

He uncurled a bit, enough to glare at her with both eyes, though without any apparent genuine anger. Or genuine anything, for that matter. All she saw was the smarmy, annoying amusement she was coming to really dislike. “For all my many talents, Vivi, I'm not very good at opening locked doors. No—let me rephrase that.” He laughed, briefly, and in a way that seemed designed to flash as many teeth as possible. “I am exceptional at opening locked doors, provided you won't ever need to close the door afterward. But I think you might prefer to just leave me a spare key.”

Vivi inelegantly shoved her hand into her pocket: jack-kitsune though he might be, Mystery had a point. “Here,” she said, as she pulled out her keyring, wound her spare key from it, and tossed it onto his body. “Where are you going to put it?”

“You let me worry about where I'm going to put it.”

Vivi sighed with indifference and let her eyes sag shut, ready and willing to take a nap without transferring herself the few feet to her bed. Her breathing became regular, all ambient noise faded away, and then she felt the couch sinking to her sides, sinking into two points of pressure.

With great regret, she opened her eyes once more to see Mystery's eyes not three inches away, his paws surrounding her legs. “Actually,” he said, “as long as we're talking, here's a few more ground rules.”

“And one of the ground rules is, whenever I'm in contact with any potentially dangerous supernatural entity, Mystery wants to be there. And potentially dangerous supernatural entities includes you.”

Vivi slung her guitar into her arms and leaned against the wall as she finished speaking, too frustrated to sit. Lewis, to her right, settled into the room's couch; he shrugged in response to the new rule, and his head tilted briefly to the side. What was that, Vivi wondered? If nodding indicated agreement, and shaking the head meant disagreement, then maybe this head tilt was the middle option: “I don't quite agree, but I can't dispute it either.”

From the other side of the room, resting in a doggy bed, Mystery smirked. Well, he continued to smirk. Vivi didn't know if it was a conscious effort, or if he just had resting... lady-dog face.

She looked away from Lewis, and also away from Mystery as best as she could. “Son of a musket, I'm sorry,” she mumbled at the wall. “I made this big deal about you being here privately, and now he's here too.”

“Might I repeat that I live here.” Mystery rolled his eyes. “What would you have done, tie me outside?”

Vivi grunted. “Keep bringing the sass, mister—see what happens.”

“Oh, please. I'm the superior life form here. I'd be the one putting you outside to think about what you did. But if it makes you feel better, I'm not—” he interrupted himself with a big yawn, stretching out and turning over to find a more comfortable position. “Oh, that's better. I'm not actually interested in your date, I'm just here—”

“Not a date—”

“—call it what you like, Vivi—I'm just here to make sure no one does anything stupid.” Mystery flicked a glance at Lewis. “Just pretend I'm not here, and have fun, you crazy kids. Don't do anything I wouldn't do,” he said, winking at Vivi.

“Sure thing, Dad.” Vivi felt her eye twitch. She closed her eyes. One, two, three, four....

She took a deep breath, reopened her eyes, and focused on Lewis. “So,” she said, and crossed the room to squeeze her keister onto the couch, in the scant space that Lewis did not occupy. He felt warm beside her. “Are you ready for some guitar teaching?”

“Hm.” Lewis pulled out his violin. “What do you know already?”

“Well, I wanted this meeting to be fun as well as instructive, so I got some of the boring stuff out of the way already. I learned what the different guitar parts are, I learned how to tune it—” she pulled gently along the strings, strumming each one in turn and playing their notes: Lewis nodded in approval “—and I can do a scale.”

As scales went, it was a disjointed, halting thing. Squinting in concentration, she took two or three seconds between some notes—then jumped between other pairs in a moment. But when she'd traversed up, and then down, an entire octave without a single mistaken note, she had to beam with pride.

And then she had to stop, when she looked up and saw Mystery wincing with his paws over his ears. “What?” she blurted.

“Nailed it,” he mumbled, wincing—he had to be exaggerating, the little son-of-his-mom. “Now can you do something about the rhythm?”

Vivi groaned, and turned away, leaning her head to Lewis before motioning toward the bedroom. “Look,” Mystery continued, as she walked into her bedroom and Lewis followed. “It's not my fault that I have such a keenly developed sense of musical theory and timing, which your playing so rudely offended—”

Vivi shut the door, trying not to slam it. “Jackass,” she whispered.

“He does have a point.”

Vivi glared at Lewis, who shrugged and held up one hand. “A small point,” he explained, with his thumb and middle finger infinitesimally close together, almost touching. “About as small as... hm.”

“As an actual, mathematical point?” Vivi slammed her butt onto the bed. “As in, no volume at all? As in, he has no point at all. I played all of those notes perfectly, thank you very much.”

Lewis hummed, and hemmed and hawed, as he pulled up Vivi's desk chair from by her computer and made to sit in it—but then seemed to think better of it, standing up straighter again. “You did use to have a stronger sense of rhythm, though. Before... well.” He sat down on the adjacent corner of the bed, which sank heavily toward the floor, and laid his violin on the desk.

“Hence, this visit.” Vivi strummed out a few F chords—slowly, so that no one could complain about her rhythm—and tried to control her scowl. “Whatever. I'm not really here to play chords or scales. I wanna play a song!”

“That does sound more fun.” Something about Lewis's voice traced a smile onto his features, even if his mouth only moved a little. “Any suggestions?”

“Well, I already know an entire scale and how to play chords, soooo....” Vivi grinned cheekily, as if storing acorns. “I was thinking, Classical Gas—”

“No.”

“—would be a terrible idea. Gotcha!” She giggled. “And that's why you shouldn't interrupt. Honestly, though, what are some good songs for beginners?”

“Four minutes and thirty three seconds,” Mystery called from the other room. “On repeat, please.”

Oh, good. Now, at the age of twenty-four, Vivi had a snarky overbearing parent, and it was her dog. “Play it yourself!” she yelled, pounding on the door a couple of times. “Anyway,” she said, returning her gaze to Lewis and socketing a smile onto her face.

Lewis, for his part, was leaning over her laptop, sparing her swivel chair. “May I?” he asked, and Vivi nodded, leaning forward to unlock it—but Lewis typed in a password, and her desktop appeared. “Good to know I can use keyboards, at least,” he grumbled, pulling up a web browser.

Vivi stared. Eternal, undying love—or whatever—was one thing, but she'd given him her password? Hare Krishna and the Sorcerer's Stone! she swore internally, trying to think of a new one.

Lewis hummed with indecision as he typed and deleted a few likely search strings—“beginner guitar song”, “guitar tutorial beginner”, “basic guitar chords”—before sitting up straighter, all of a sudden. “Here's one I'm fond of,” he said, typing in a less generic search string: “coldplay the scientist tutorial”.

“It's not a guitar song originally, but it sounds nice on one. Oh, but don't tell Arthur,” Lewis mentioned as an aside, glancing Vivi's way as he opened the video. “I don't need a spat regarding my musical infidelity and unrefined tastes.”

“I don't think he'd insect you about stuff like that.”

Lewis just stared at her: was he failing to parse 'insect' as 'bug'? But a realization approached Vivi like an oncoming train: distant at first, but before too long, blaring and far too close. “Oh, come on.” She pouted with all her might, sinking forward into a huffy leaning pose. “I'm only supposed to have forgotten stuff about you!”

“Did that only come up when we were all together?” Lewis scratched his chin. “Hum.”

The music tutorial played uninterrupted in the background, as some bearded man spoke in a curiously high-pitched voice about the particular chords involved. Funny, how there could be an awkward silence even with so much background noise.

“Turn it off!”

In a way, it was almost a relief when Mystery barged through the door and leapt onto the desk. Almost but not quite, because, well, Mystery.

“What in dangnation are you doing?” Vivi managed, as he struck the laptop's touchpad repeatedly until he hit the left mouse button, pausing the video. She winced at the sound of claws on plastic. “Hey, don't scratch my laptop, that's expensive!”

“You're welcome,” Mystery said, an intense look in his eyes. “That wasn't just any video, it was a mind virus.”

Lewis glanced at the friendly-looking bearded man on the screen, then stared at Mystery, head tilted incrementally to the side. It would have been redundant, Vivi imagined, to say something like “A what?”, “What's a mind virus?”, or “That's the stupidest thing I've heard all week.”

Mystery growled at him, perhaps hearing the unsaid jibes. “A mind virus! Encoded in online data. It's inserting instructions into your brain, that you'll carry out later!”

“Mystery.” Vivi squinted. “You just described a tutorial.”

“Don't be snarky about it—I mean subliminally! I heard him trail off mid-sentence as it devoured his brain!”

Lewis sighed. “I finished my sentence,” he said, standing up fully. “And then I stopped talking for a while, because that's how conversations work.” His head brushed the ceiling, and his hair might have been stirring—Vivi certainly hoped not, for the sake of having a roof over her head. “Now,” Lewis said, “get out.”

Mystery grunted, and hopped down to the rolling chair. He leaned forward and grew just enough for illusory tails to appear behind himself. They sprouted forward, jacking into every kind of port the laptop had: HDMI, USB, even the headphone input. Vivi watched, eyebrows raised, as the video returned to the start, then played at incredible speed. Mystery's eyes locked wide-open.

Before a minute had passed, the twelve-minute video was done. Mystery sighed, his voice coming out at a deeper pitch in his larger form. “All right. False alarm. But you would have been very grateful, had there been a subliminal message.”

With jerky movements, his tails pulled out of the holes where they'd been implanted. “At least take my laptop out to dinner first,” Vivi muttered.

“Vivi, it's a laptop. It consumes electricity, not food. Don't be ridiculous.” Mystery stared at her.

Vivi stared back. There wasn't really any response to make.

“Ah. An awkward silence.” Lewis loomed further over Mystery. “Now you know. Should I repeat myself, or will you get out?”

“Fine,” Mystery groaned. “I'll get out of your hair... but not the room.” He retreated to the back corner, near the head of the bed. “I know it's hard, but just keep ignoring me.”

As Lewis restarted the video, Vivi counted in her head until her hand relaxed from its claw-like shape. She watched in relative silence with Lewis for a couple minutes, as the man on the screen played a snippet of the song.

“Doesn't seem hard,” Lewis said, picking up the violin. “Basic chords are D minor, B-flat major, F major....” He sawed them out on his violin in quick succession. “And then this one's a little tricky, but not much. It's called a Fadd9. Or maybe an F-add-9,” he amended, pronouncing the second one as 'eff-add-nine' instead of 'fad-nine'. “I don't... know how it's pronounced, I've only ever seen it written.”

He drew another chord, one which sounded sort of... harmoniously dissonant, Vivi decided. “Let's see if I was right,” Lewis continued.

The first thing the video described was the placement of the capo—a sort of guitar clamp to change the pitch of the notes, which Vivi wasn't sure if she owned. Drat. “Hm,” Lewis said, as the capo went on the fifth fret. “That changes the absolute but not the relative pitches of what you play.... A minor, F major, C major and then Cadd9, or cee-add-nine. Whichever.”

Lo and behold, as the video went on, the bearded fellow named each chord in turn—except the last, which he just described as 'C but with a D on top, like so'. Lewis grunted. “I was hoping to learn to pronounce it.”

“You know a lot about this music theory stuff,” Vivi said, turning his way. “But it sounds like you didn't learn it out loud?”

Lewis looked her way—then stopped himself, turned back to the video, and paused it. Then he returned his gaze to meet hers. “Mom had this violin, and a bunch of leftover music theory books. She used to play back when she was younger, but with a restaurant and one-two-three-four kids, she didn't have much time to keep it up. It was actually one of the first things I saw the first time I got to the Peppers' house.” He laughed gently. “But I must have told you this story a hundred times.”

Vivi rolled her eyes, and after a moment of realization, Lewis jolted in his seat. “Oh, of course. Well, I didn't have much time either, too much catch-up for missed years of school—and then the restaurant, before long. But I wanted to learn to play, even if I couldn't attend one-on-one lessons. So I devoured those books, got more from the library, listened to classical CDs. Anything.” He smiled. “But I'm rambling. You've got a song to learn.”

“No, keep going, it's interesting rambling! Actually, wait,” Vivi said, frowning in consternation, “if it's 'interesting', can it still be called 'rambling'? Or is that an oxymoron?”

“You invite me over for a guitar lesson, so you can hear me ramble about my mom's old music books.” Lewis lifted an eyebrow. “Almost as if the guitar lesson still isn't the point.”

“Ah, you've seen through my charade. Yes, I admit it, I'm tricking you all into social situations so that I can learn more about the members of my team. How devious of me.” Vivi smirked, and punched Lewis in the arm. “And besides, it's totally relevant. Similar instruments, remember?”

“I remember. All right.” Lewis sighed. “But that's actually where the story ends. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Ugh, fine. Lesson it is.” Vivi propped the guitar up on her lap, made to strum, then stopped herself. “Ah, shoot. Do I have a capo?”

She looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of whether or not she'd seen such a thing in her house, but then Lewis's hand moved in her peripheral vision. She looked back down to see his index finger pressing down on the fifth fret. “You have me,” he said.

She smiled back, then positioned her hand for the A minor chord—the one that would become D minor with the improvised capo. Fingers went here and here, and—she strummed.

The notes flew out exactly as she was hoping for, and matching the video. She strummed eight times—one and two and three and four and—then paused to reposition her fingers for the Bb major, or rather the F major chord.

Another eight strums. Another pause to move her left fingers around for the tonic chord, and then another eight strums. The video had said she just needed to pick up her middle finger to switch chords on this one, so without pausing she did so after the eighth chord and kept going.

A single laugh escaped her, and she kept going, emboldened enough not to pause. D minor, eight strums—Bb major, eight strums—F major, sixteen strums but with lifting the middle finger on the ninth.

And she was into the first verse. “Come up to meet—” she said, and her playing immediately went to heck in a hamper. The jarring, discordant notes stopped her cold.

“Don't do that,” Lewis said, gently and without admonishing. “Singing while playing is tough for beginners. It's like trying to control a couple of new, extra limbs.”

“Wow,” drawled Mystery's voice from behind them. “That sounds so hard.” Vivi glanced his way to see him with one of his tails curled far forward, scratching his nose.

With obvious care, Lewis removed his hand from the guitar, then clenched it into a crushing fist. It shook with the strain for several seconds; then Lewis relaxed it and returned it to the fifth fret. “Start from the top. I'll keep time. One, two,” he counted off at a slow, steady pace, “three, four—”

Vivi restarted, and Lewis's tapping foot provided a steady, thudding metronome. Eight strums in D minor, eight in Bb major, eight in F major, another eight in Fadd9, and then repeat—

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry,

You don't know how lovely you are....

Vivi vaguely heard the words in her head, even as she focused on the pattern of her fingers. She must have heard this song before.

I had to find you, tell you I need you,

Tell you I set you apart....

There came a humming—outside her head, not inside. Was that Lewis?

Tell me your secrets, and ask me your questions,

“Oh, let's go back to the start....”

And was Lewis singing? A bulb of jealousy blossomed, the idea that Lewis got to sing and not her—except that wasn't Lewis's voice.

“Running in circles, coming up tails,

Heads on a science—”

The chord shattered like dropped china as she whipped her head around, and at that moment Mystery stopped singing. He was staring into the wall, apparently not by design. “Wrong,” he murmured, with the same quiet volume he'd been using. “Gotta focus, lift your middle finger off the chord.”

She glared at him, strumming halted. I'll show you lifting my middle finger!

In time, he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “What? I absorbed the whole video, remember? Now after this, there's the chorus, you'll have to stay in Bb major for sixteen—”

Lewis released the guitar, stood up, and was in front of Mystery in two strides. “You know, all things considered,” Lewis said, “I've kept quite calm.” His tone agreed; he seemed to be musing out loud.

Then he grabbed Mystery by the scruff of the neck, lifting him like an empty plastic bag. “That will soon change dramatically,” Lewis hissed, as the flesh vanished from his face, leaving the skull to stare Mystery down. “Stop ruining this.”

Mystery flinched, then snorted. “How terrifying.” His grin glinted, and he seemed no more rattled than he had a moment before, coiled up and snoozing. “Pardon me, to be sure, but where I come from we like to do things correctly. Especially music.”

Vivi blinked. “Hold on. Where you come from?”

Lewis growled, and his grip tightened: Mystery might have been on the cusp of opening his mouth, but instead his grin now seemed more like gritting his teeth. Vivi stared at his muzzle and remembered another muzzle, like that one but shorter. Howling along to some tune playing in the car.

Faking it, of course. Because he'd been lying about literally everything, including being a dog. So clearly he'd faked that too. Right?

“Lewis!” she called out, as he wound his arm back in preparation to toss Mystery out. “Put him down!”

He glanced back at her, arm still cocked. “Why?”

“Because—” Vivi couldn't very well say the real reason why. Not with Mystery in hearing range. So she'd have to find something else, something convincing.... “Because... animal abuse is wrong!”

Aw, stag, that wasn't it. The two of them were briefly united in squinting at her. “Because, well, don't sink to his level!” she managed. “You've been trying to control your anger—don't let him rile you up, okay? Just... count the beat with me. One, two—”

“Three, four.” Somehow, even with no lower jaw, Lewis's voice seemed to be coming out through gritted teeth. “One, two... all right.”

He dropped Mystery without ceremony. The kitsune landed with (inappropriately, for his supposed species) catlike grace.

Lewis stalked over to the foot of the bed and sat down, not bothering to account for his weight. Vivi winced, hoping she hadn't heard a crack. “Why,” Lewis muttered, “are you—one, two, three, four—why are you tolerating this?”

“Look, I know he's being a little turd, but—just trust me on this, okay? I've got an idea.”

“What idea?”

“I really can't explain it—he can probably hear me.”

“Yup,” Mystery piped in. “Don't think too loud, either. What are you talking about, anyway?”

Lewis trembled, and Vivi rested a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, I've still got some chords to learn, right? How does the chorus go?”

After a few seconds, Lewis heaved a sigh. “You're right. He just wants attention.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Vivi saw Mystery blinking. No snappy comeback this time.

“Anyway,” Lewis said, “if I'm right, the next chords are....”

It had been fifteen minutes—she had kept track, for purposes of bragging rights—and now Vivi was confident in her ability to play the song through. Or at least the chords.

It was time for phase two.

“Give me a beat?” she said to Lewis, who still held the fifth fret. He nodded, smiling more easily than before. Mystery hadn't had any further lip to offer after Lewis's shutdown, which probably explained it.

Lewis tapped his foot in time. “One,” he said for two beats, “two—”

They counted together: “One, two, three, four!”

Strum. She'd done it so many times in the past fifteen minutes that she barely knew where her left hand was, and still the notes seemed to be coming out correctly. Her fingers changed position after eight strums, and then again, and again. It was second nature.

“You're a natural,” Lewis said.

“Pun intended?”

Suddenly, speaking threw her whole body back into mind, and she felt like she had a hundred feet to keep track of. Her hand spasmed in panic, but she remembered: F major next, and then Fadd9—lift that middle finger.

“What pun?” Lewis asked.

Vivi ignored this, and not just for fear of further speech. The first verse was starting, and she wanted to listen. Would phase two of the plan work.

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry,

You don't know how lovely you are....

No, he wasn't singing yet, but if she'd read him right, he wouldn't be able to help himself. Faintly, she thought she heard humming.

I had to find you, tell you I need you,

The humming evolved to a murmur—

“Tell you I set you apart....”

—and the murmur evolved to a gentle croon.

“Tell me your secrets, and ask me your questions,

Oh, let's go back to the start....”

Lewis's eyes widened with what was probably realization. Vivi spared him a wink, which was about all she dared manage: she had to keep the beat.

“Running in circles, coming up tails,

Heads on a science apart....”

Otherwise, what sort of backup guitarist would she be?

“Nobody said it was easy!

It's such a shame for us to part... Nobody said it was easy! No one ever said it would be this hard—”

Vivi scooted her butt around on the bed, rotating bit by bit until she could see Mystery in something other than her peripheral vision. She was just in time for the end of the chorus.

“Oh, take me back to the start.”

Mystery lay in the corner, looking slightly skyward as if experiencing revelation. There was something strange about his face, and she couldn't figure it out with the limited brainpower she had at the moment. F major for eight, Bb major for eight, and then F major for another sixteen—then back to the first pattern.

“I was just guessing at numbers and figures, Pulling the puzzles apart...

Questions of science, science and progress, Do not speak as loud as my heart....”

Mystery's voice suffused the room like palpable warmth, and quite frankly, it was beautiful. Maybe even beautiful enough that Vivi wouldn't mind paying him the compliment—especially since, even with those incredible ears, he didn't seem to hear his own singing.

And it wasn't just that he hit the notes.

“Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me, Oh, and I rush to the start...”

It was, basically, because he sounded like he gave a damn. No begrudging half-effort, no snark, no self-righteous anger. And no guarding.

“Running in circles, chasing our tails, Coming back as we are....”

Finally, Vivi realized what was so strange about his face, and she could have laughed—but she had a chorus to play.

“Nobody said it was easy!”

It was the simplest thing in the world. He was relaxed.

“It's such a shame for us to part...”

The way he had looked when he was playing the role of a happy little dog. And of course he'd been faking it, she'd concluded, because now his features seemed taut and tense all the time, whether smirking or growling—

“Nobody said it was easy!”

No. Not even close. The tension was the put-on—this was real.

“No one ever said it would be this hard—”

He took a breath, and he looked like the kitsune who'd admitted to caring about their little group, not so many days prior.

He looked like her dog, from too many days ago.

“Oh, take me back to the start.”

No more words were left: just the outro, with some wordless 'ooh's to finish it out. Mystery howled them out with the same quiet passion he'd brought to the rest of the song, and they echoed in Vivi's head long after his mouth finally closed.

It was done. Vivi released the guitar, shook out her achey hands, and glanced up to see that Lewis, too, had been staring at Mystery the whole time.

The subject in question blinked a few times, then glanced toward them. At once he noticed the twin gazes pinning him, and he drew himself more upright, closer to the wall. A hint of tension leaked into his face once more.

Vivi spoke quickly. “That—that was really good.”

Mystery's head cocked to the side, like a dog trying to interpret a sound. Finally, he said, “Um... thanks. It wasn't terrible, I suppose.”

“No, really,” Lewis said, glancing at Vivi. “Do you have training of some sort?” Vivi gave him a wink, which she hoped Mystery missed.

“Not as such... where I, um.... where I came from, there was always a lot of music. Not like your music—” he gave out a short, harsh laugh “—you probably couldn't appreciate it, but it was good. Good like that.”

“Where you came from?” Vivi blurted.

“Where I—”

He blinked, and Vivi cursed herself internally with a few choice words from the NC-17 shelf. “I see what this is,” he said, smirking. The tension was back: she'd pushed too hard. “You think you can just pry me open with a pretty tune, and I'll spill my guts about my tragic childhood and emotional neuroses, is that it?”

“Mystery—” she began.

He was sitting up straight now, with none of that floppy relaxation in his body. “It's none of your business. Nice try, but I'm afraid I've got a brand to live up to—it's in the name, remember? Now, if you'd named me 'Tedious Backstory Exposition', we might have a different situation, but no.”

“I wasn't going to ask about your neuroses—”

“Good, because it's none of your business!”

His teeth were bared. Vivi couldn't help but think, in a drably amused way, that they were the only part of him to be so.

“This is enough,” Lewis said, abruptly standing. He offered a hand to her. “Vivi, would you mind if we went somewhere else?”

Vivi squeezed shut her eyes for a few moments, then sighed and stood, pulling herself up with his hand. “You're right. Let's go.”

“A-hem—isn't there someone you forgot to ask?” Mystery stood on all four legs now. “You'll have to tell me where this new, romantic location is.”

Lewis folded his arms. “You're not coming. Clearly.”

“And you think you can stop me?” Mystery laughed once, and loudly. “I found you in another reality. I can run as fast as you can drive. No matter how fast you go, no matter what barrier you erect—there is nowhere, land or sea, where I can't pursue you.”

Lewis just smiled.

“Now, this is a C7. Mind if I—”

Vivi nodded. Lewis leaned over the back of her thick, oaken chair, and let her left hand off the frets for a moment, so that Lewis could finger it. She paid close attention to where his fingertips rested, and then strummed once, producing a sound that was less like the Gadd9, more... “Jazzy,” she mused aloud.

“It is used often in jazz.” Lewis waited until she'd placed her fingers by his, then lifted his hand and walked back around her chair. From the end-table next to his much larger chair, he picked up his violin and bow, then sawed out a few notes in an arpeggiated sort of C7, until they resolved to a C major by way of F major and F minor. “'Sweet Home Chicago',” he explained, with another self-satisfied smile like the one he'd turned on Mystery about twenty minutes before. “Who says I don't appreciate the classics?”

“Who does say that?” Vivi asked.

Lewis paused, stock still. “Hm... long story.”

A knocking sound drew their attention, and they looked to the room's large, glass windows. A single Deadbeat was bonking its head against the window, its stubby arms occupied by a pile of books.

“The music theory!” Vivi said, beaming as Lewis opened a window to let the Deadbeat—and a fair amount of rushing wind—inside. “Good job, little guy.”

The Deadbeat dropped the books in a heap on the end-table, then zipped under Vivi's outstretched hand for scritches. Its need satisfied, it darted into a corner and curled up, instantly snoozing.

“These are....” Lewis picked up the heap of books and frowned. “About half of the theory books I asked for. Also, several cookbooks—Mom's going to want these back—and one Ikea manual.” He sighed. “Deadbeats.”

“Hey, you can't be mad at a little buddy like that, can you? Come on.”

He smiled back at her, for a moment; then he looked at her. Maybe even through her. Vivi couldn't help feeling on edge, or perhaps on trial, as he sat down without breaking eye contact.

“I saw what you were doing with Mystery,” he said. “It almost worked.”

Vivi groaned. At least he wasn't judging, or rather he was judging in her favor. “Almost is the marketer's word for didn't. Sorry to mess up our date for that.”

“I—er, I thought it wasn't a date?” He leaned forward, and his eye-lights brightened a degree.

“It's kind of a date.”

Vivi stared out the windows. Lewis had created this room of the mansion especially to order—exactly cozy enough for two people and zero dog-things. A row of windows lined the opposite wall, revealing the kind of view that could sell for millions in the big city. All crystal clear and simple.

She groaned. “I just don't get him! What's to gain from pulling back, huh? What's so bad about—is it so wrong to want to know things about your team?” She slumped forward. “Being team leader sucks sometimes.”

“Hey.” Lewis leaned forward, smiling. “Nobody said it was easy.”

She shook her head, looking down at her feet. “No one ever said it would be this hard.”

“I told you already, you don't get to sing—it'll ruin your playing.”

All right, fine—she gave in, and chuckled. “All right, let's keep going. What was that thing you mentioned, 'Sweet Home Chicago'—I wonder if I can find a video?”

She pulled out her phone, but after a second of squinting, she put it away and chuckled. “Oh, of course. Shame—there's no WiFi up here.”

“Lewis! This isn't funny!”

Stupid, clever humans.

Mystery's eyes fixated on a black point, high in the air. He tensed his haunches, then took off like a shot across Vivi's backyard, accelerating quickly. One leap landed him on the peaked roof: he gained what velocity he could running up the shingles, then jumped up with all of his might—

And got nowhere close to the single room of Lewis's mansion, floating hundreds of feet directly above Vivi's condo.

With a heavy, even clumsy landing, Mystery returned to earth, kicking up a plume of dust. “Get down here!” he yelled, before realizing he'd landed in the front yard: he quickly shrank back to his doggy disguise and padded around the back.

Stupid Lewis with his ill-defined powers. Stupid Vivi with her prying. Stupid Coldplay with their... cold playing. Why did I ever fall for that?

He groaned and looked skyward, but not at Lewis's room.

And why her? Of all people, why was I thinking of her?