#i feel like i’m gonna throw up & my head hurts & my temp is all over the place rn

[thewingedwolf]

i feel so ill i want to cry on desk and it’s JUST a flare up i’m not actually sick but i feel miserable

[warmblanketwhump]

flight plan: part 2

no planes in this one - just some good old-fashioned sickfic! But if you want the backstory, check out part 1 here.

“A, can you hand me my glass of water? Pleaaaase?” B sticks out their bottom lip in a pout, and A can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, you. It’s been four days and I know you’re getting better, because you’re getting pesky again.” A straightens the blankets and slides their hand up to feel B’s cheek. “Still a little warm, but I think you’re on your way out of the woods.”

“So I should milk this while I can?” B flutters their eyelashes and gives a pitifully fake cough, which slips into a real one, sharp and rattling. Concern flits across A’s eyes, and they help B take a few sips from the glass.

Despite the joking, A didn’t kid themselves about how sick B had been, or how awful they’d truly felt after getting off the plane. The first two days had been nightmarish - B barely conscious, shivering with chills and sweating through their sheets, alternating between terrifying fever dreams and inconsolable moaning and weeping.

A did their best to hold them through it, but they had been minutes away from hauling B to the hospital. Thankfully B’s fever had spiked just one final time before settling into general low-grade misery.

“As long as you need me, sweetheart, you’ve got me.” B gives a tired smile and pulls the blanket to their chin, huddling around the new stuffed animal A gave them at the airport.

“Did you call C?”

“Ah, not yet. Too busy with you, ya sick little bean.” A gently fluffs B’s hair. “You rest, and I’ll give them a call now.”

But C doesn’t pick up. Nor do they pick up an hour later, leaving A stuck with the unpleasant task of leaving a voicemail.

“Um, hi…this is A. I just wanted to call and let you know that B’s on the mend. They’re still pretty weak, but I think things are looking up. So…yeah. Thanks for everything you did for B - once they were feeling better, they told me all about what you did. And I…well, I care a lot about them. Obviously. So I appreciate it. I guess you can call back if you-”

The message cuts off, and A groans. Hopefully that was enough. Still, they couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of their stomach.

Later, they settle in with B to watch a movie, B’s head cradled in their lap as A combs their fingers soothingly through their hair, reveling in the sheer normalcy of it all. They both end up falling asleep, and when A blinks awake as the credits roll, they notice a missed call from C. B’s still out, so they click to listen to the voicemail.

“Hey, A….sorry I *coughs*…missed you earlier. Wasn’t able to *sniffs* make it to the phone. So glad to hear that B’s *cough cough* doing better. I think they did a little sharing.” C laughs weakly, but A can hear the sheer exhaustion in their voice. “Anyways, glad they had you. And if you’ve got any survival tips, feel free to pass them along…..I’m just kidding. *cough* I’ll be fine. Anyways, I’ll…see you around, I guess.” They pause briefly, like they want to say something more, but a coughing fit steals their breath away, and the message ends with a click cutting off the rough gasps.

The pit in A’s stomach comes back. C sounds sick.

“Who….who was that?” B mumbles from their spot on A’s lap.

“It was C. They called back and they….didn’t sound so good.”

B’s eyes snap to meet A’s, more alert than they have been in days. “Did they sound like me?”

C pauses. They hadn’t thought about not telling B, but in hindsight, maybe they should have. After all, it’d only flood B with guilt, and they needed all the energy they had to get well. But one look at B’s concern, and they knew they wouldn’t be able to lie.

“Yeah. They did.” Immediately B struggles to push themselves up, throwing their blanket off their shoulders and trying to stand.

“Whoa, hold it there. Where do you think you’re going?”

“To C. If they’re sick, it’s from me, and if any hints from the past four days of living with me are any indication, we gotta help them.”

A throws their hands up, pressing B back on the couch. “Hold up. We don’t know them, we don’t know if someone’s already taking care of them, and we don’t know where they live. I’m sure they’re-“

B frantically shakes their head. “You didn’t hear them. On the plane. From what they said…I don’t think they have anyone. I have to go.”

A chews their lip. “Well, let’s get things straight first. You’re in no shape to go help them. Which leaves me. A random stranger they don’t know. And you want me to check on them?”

The question was meant to be sarcastic, but B nods vigorously and fear fills their eyes with a fevered anxiety. “A, you saw how sick I was. You think anyone’s gonna be able to fight through that alone?”

A sighs wearily. They could blame it on the fact that arguing with a sick B was like arguing with a brick wall. But truthfully, what did their heart in was the thought of B alone on that plane, sick and shivering and miserable, if C hadn’t helped.

Fine. They’d send a text.

You okay? You sounded kinda rough on the phone. B was worried….

A few moments later, C responds.

Eh, I’ve felt better. But thank you for asking. And tell B not to feel bad. They were a better seatmate than most.

A smile tugs at A. At least this C was polite.

Is there anything you need? B said something about you being by yourself.

This pause was longer. The dots appeared and disappeared a few times, before a message came through.

I hate to take advantage, but is there ANY way you could bring over some cough medicine? I ran out a couple days ago. No worries if not - I can figure it out.

C’s heart sank. So they were alone. Sure, they didn’t say it - but any good friend or significant other worth their salt wouldn’t leave someone they loved without medicine for days.

I’ll bring some to you! Want to meet somewhere neutral, or just want me to drop it off?

In moments, C sends a response and an address.

Dropping off is fine. You are an actual lifesaver.

A settles B into bed with blankets, a cup of water, hot tea, and six types of medicine on the side table. “Now if you get worse, call me and I’ll turn around immediately. Nothing’s more important than you, okay?”

B shook their head. “I’ll be fine. They need someone.”

A heaves a sigh. “You’re too good, you.” They give B a quick forehead kiss, and head out into the night.

By the time they get to C’s apartment, their stomach is flip-flopping - C is a stranger. A lonely stranger, but a random stranger nonetheless. They come to C’s door and knock tentatively, gripping the paper bag of cough medicine (plus some cough drops and Tylenol for good measure), and hold their breath.

Nothing. A few minutes go by and A knocks again. They’re ready to break down the door if C doesn’t answer soon, but they realize what took so long right after they hear the click of the deadbolt.

A had seen corpses that looked more alive than C did right now. They lean heavily on the doorframe, sweat beaded on their forehead, a thick grey throw blanket clutched tightly around their shoulders. Their face is hollow and devoid of color, lips dry and cracked, their hair mussed and matted to their head. The cool night air hits their fevered body, triggering a round of chills that make them shudder. Despite their misery, a tiny light of gratitude flits across their eyes, and they stare incredulously at the paper bag in A’s hands.

“C….” A’s jaw drops to the ground.

“A, I seriously owe you one.” C tries to laugh, but it turns into a wheezing chest cough, high pitched and tense as they fight to catch their breath. Their eyes blink slowly, and they start to slide down the doorframe, but A grabs them and they both tumble inside.

Even through the blanket, A can feel C’s every bone. C weakly clings to A as they stumble toward the couch, and A deposits them on the cushions before tearing into the package of meds.

“What have you taken so far today?” A asks, trying to figure out the dosages.

“I….nothing…” C mumbles. A meets their eyes in disbelief before cracking open the blister packet and retrieving a proper dose. Grabbing an empty glass on the side table, they fill it before helping C choke the pills down. C greedily gulps the whole glass, breathing heavily once they’ve drained it.

“Water…water’s good.” C smiles blearily - they’re almost completely out of it. A presses a hand to the side of C’s neck, and C flinches at the cool touch. Their neck feels like a bank of hot coals, slick with sweat, lymph nodes sore and swollen. Their forehead isn’t much cooler either.

“C, when’s the last time you ate or drank anything?”

C cocks their head like A just asked them to recite the entire periodic table. “I….not sure? Days….kinda blurry.”

A’s seen enough. “C, you’ve got to go to the hospital. I haven’t even seen your temp, but you’re burning up even worse than B was.”

C frantically grasps at A’s wrists, sharp panic flooding their eyes. “Please…no…no hospital. I can’t. The meds….I’m fine here. Please.” A shiver wracks their body, and they hunch their shoulders, wrapping themselves back up and pulling the blanket over their nose. “Please. You can go now.”

“C, you need help-“

“I don’t.” Their voice breaks on the last word, cut off by a brief hiccuping sob.

Confusion rises through A - one minute C’s a grateful wreck, and the next moment they’re demanding they leave?

“C, I don’t understand-“

“You don’t get it. You think it feels all nice, having people care about you. Making you feel like you matter. And then they leave you. Get tired of you. Decide you’re not worth it. And it hurts worse than if they were never there at all.” C scrubs their eye with the corner of their blanket and sniffles as tears run down their cheeks. “I can’t let it happen again. I have to be alone. So just go. Please.”

A’s speechless. They kneel down next to the couch, hand tentatively hovering above C.

“C, is it okay if I put my hand on you right now?” C’s still sniffling, but they nod and mumble a weak “yes”, and A gently lets their hand rest on this stranger’s shoulder.

“C, I want to respect what you want right now. But you should know that you’re very sick. And you’ve managed in your own way - how, I have no idea - but you need some help right now. Now I can either call the hospital and let them handle it, or take you home with me. It’s up to you. Otherwise, you need to look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you want to be left alone through this.”

They squeeze C’s shoulder, and it triggers a deep gasping sob from their broken, aching body, sending a fault line straight through A’s heart. The sob turns to weeping, and A can barely make out the words C whimpers: "I don't want to hurt anymore."

God, who broke this poor thing? A bites their lip. C’s losing it. They’re running out of options short of forcing C to come with them, and that’s the last thing they want to do to a delirious, love-starved person who’s known them all of 6 minutes.

“C, I’m not gonna hurt you. I want to help you. Heck, even B wants to help you. I had to practically pin them down to the bed before leaving, they were so hell bent on this rescue.”

C’s red, swollen eyes meet A’s. “You mean….they asked after me?”

“Yes. They did. They could hardly stop talking about you once they came to their senses.” A rubs C’s knee through the blankets. “And they’d never forgive me if I left you here alone - they were very adamant about that. So if you want to save me a lot of arguing with and consoling of a very sad B, you’d actually be doing me a favor coming back with me.”

C seems to be weighing their options, all while struggling to stay awake on the couch. “I mean…if it saves you the trouble….”

A’s the one nodding vigorously now. “Please. It would.” Please. Just come back with me. I can’t leave you here like this. But I don’t know what else to do.

C presses themselves up off the couch with a single shaking arm. “Well, if it’d help you, then I accept.” And then they promptly pass out into A’s waiting arms.

It’s late when A gets back home with a limp C, and B is knocked out in their room, light still on - they’d tried to wait up, but their body still craved rest.

A carries C over the threshold and into the house. They gently lay the bundle on the bed and feel their forehead - still too hot, but the medicine seemed to be working. They manage to wake C up enough to take a few sips of broth from a mug before they pass out again.

For the briefest moment, A lets their hand touch C's shoulder again, making a silent promise they barely know how to keep: I don't know who broke you, but I'm not gonna let you hurt any more. I won't allow it.

A wave of exhaustion floods their body as they feel the effects of several late nights and long days of caretaking. They'd be no good to anyone if they didn't get any rest. A drapes an extra blanket over C’s sleeping form and heads for the couch for the night - they’d check back in an hour or so.

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

B’s awakened by the sound of sniffling. And it’s not theirs. They blink tentatively in the lamplight, sleep clouding their thoughts. Snatching a blanket from the top of their bed, they wrap up, stuffed animal under one arm, and shuffle across the hall to see where the sound is coming from.

It’s C, swathed in two blankets, holding a wad of tissues and trembling like a leaf. B flicks on the bedside table lamp, and C winces at the light. B can see the tear stains on their cheeks.

“Cold,” C whimpers, coughing weakly. Pity floods B - it’s like looking at a picture of themselves just a few days ago. They reach out and put their hand on C’s head, and C leans into the touch.

“Yeah, this part sucks,” B says softly, guilt flooding their core. Sure, they didn’t mean to make C sick. But they did. And they felt a certain responsibility to make sure they made it through okay - just like C had cared for them on the plane.

“Can I get you anything? Another blanket, tea, medicine?”

“Throat hurts…water…please?” B nods and places the stuffed animal next to C before beginning the long, slow shuffle to the kitchen. A’s asleep on the couch, and they can’t bear to wake them up for something this small. But by the time they get to the kitchen, their legs are trembling with exertion. Easy there. You’re still sick, too.

They brace themselves against the sink as the glass fills, and will themselves to make the final journey back to C. By the time they’ve returned, the glass feels like a lead weight in their hand, and their entire body is chilled and shivery all over. They do their best to help C take a few sips, holding the glass with trembling hands, bracing themselves on the bed so they don’t tip over.

“Thank….thank you,” C’s grateful eyes meet theirs, and in a split second B knows the effort was worth it. But the validation is replaced with a bout of lightheadedness that nearly topples them onto C.

“Sorry,” B gasps. “Still not up to marathons yet. Just...need a minute.” They tug their blanket tighter, closing their eyes. “And this body forgot how to stay warm when I do stuff.” C’s eyes flood with concern - even in their fevered haze, they can see B struggling.

"Want to sit for a minute?" C asks softly, patting the open spot next to them on the bed. “I’m still cold, too.”

B wriggles into the spot, propping themselves up on pillows and pulling blankets over them both. "Just a minute - you need your sleep."

C's already dozing. "S'okay. I'll sleep just fine. 'Sides, you're warm." C's nestled themselves into B's side, head resting on their chest, and B wraps an arm around C's shoulder and holds them close. They’re warm, too. Just a minute....

Many minutes later, A pokes their head in to check in on C - and finds two sick peas in a pod curled up together, C's head still on B's chest, B's arm curled protectively around C, stuffed animal squished between them, both tangled in blankets and Kleenexes.

In spite of their own exhaustion, A smiles. After everything that had happened, they had a feeling C wouldn't ever be alone again.

[puckngrind]

Leave Her Wild: Chapter 2 - N. MacKinnon

Summary: MacKenzie and her friends head to opening night for the Colorado Avalanche.

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

Word count: 2, 675

Series masterlist / Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Flames.

"You are really gonna wear that?" Mosi looks her friend up and down.

"Yeah, why?" MacKenzie tugs at her jersey. Of course she was going to wear it. Opening night, only hockey jersey she owned. Was a Christmas gift from her parents last year. She did a little twirl to show it off to the group of unamused friends.

"Because..." Drew rolls his hands and she rolls her eyes.

"Laissez les bons temps rouler!" Remy waves his hands in the air.

"That means, Let..." MacKenzie starts.

"Let the good times roll! We know.” Drew and Mosi say in unison.

"Alright, Mac is going to be wearing that. Remy has clearly pre-gamed. Mosi should’ve. We have our tickets and I'm driving so let's go." Drew starts herding the friend group out of MacKenzie's condo.

Opening night at Pepsi Center was always an event. MacKenzie and Drew got tickets from their volunteer efforts so the group headed out for their first time ever. They had gone to a Rockies game after Remy moved to Denver but normally the friend group didn't really do sporting events as outings.

“Is someone gonna explain these rules?” Remy plopped down from his first beer run with Drew and handed MacKenzie one. Eyeing her for the answer.

“Yeah. Kinda like soccer. You know?” She started. Knowing she was the only one who knew anything about hockey. “You can yell, cheer, boo. Doesn't really matter because no one really pays attention to the crazy you say.” The group all nod and she knows they will just clap when those around them do.

“So pizza-Jeep boy is wearing what color?” Mosi whisper yells while leaning into MacKenzie’s side during warmups.

“He’s in the blue and maroon jersey. The white is the Flames.” MacKenzie doesn’t take her eyes off the ice looking for Nathan to point him out but feels Mosi’s eyes on her. “Yes, Mo?”

“But… um... never mind.” Mosi stutters strangely.

"There he is." Kenzie ignores and points to the screen where they have a close up of Nathan showing his stats from the previous season.

The game starts which quieted the group’s chatter while everyone but Kenzie tried following the puck and going from watching the ice to the screen and back.

“Let’s go boys!” MacKenzie stands and yells after a big play with everyone in her section turning to look at her.

“Mac!” Drew pulls her down to her seat. “Check your surroundings.”

“You know I don’t care, right?” MacKenzie starts clapping again with a little cheer.

“As always, you do you.” Drew slow claps along as the game progresses.

Even though MacKenzie warned her friends that there might be only a goal or two, the game was high scoring which the friends all enjoyed. Remy cheered when anyone scored regardless of team. Colorado winning made the home crowd pumped and buzzing about being the year.

"We realize the season has over 80 games, right?" Kenzie comments to no one in particular as they head down the stairs.

“Food! Real food and drinks that don’t cost a million bucks.” Mosi begs on the way out.

“Allons! Let’s go!” Remy points to the closest restaurant he can see. "That one! Onward." Remy leads the group over.

Drinks, food, laughter fill the table as they banter back and forth.

“Isn’t that her, Mac?” MacKenzie hears someone nearby. She turns to see Nathan, Cale and a few more guys at a table about ten feet away. Nathan nods. She raises her hand then quickly feels the blood rushing to her face.

“Kenzie Lou, why are you the same color as your jersey?” Remy looks her up and down.

“Oh.” Drew mumbles with his mouth full seeing the table MacKenzie just waved towards.

“Oh yeah, this is gonna be fun!” Mosi clapped and is greeted with a kick under the table. “Ouch. Well it is.”

MacKenzie huffs and stands to her feet. Inhales and walks right over to the table of what she assumed was full of professional hockey players.

“Nice game Nathan.” She stops right at the end of his table and knows her face is still bright red.

“Looks like you were rooting for the other team there. Sorry 'bout that.” One of the boys down the table barks out.

“Hi MacKenzie. Thanks. Were you there? At the game, I mean.” Nathan turns his body towards her.

“Yes. Got tickets because of the foundation thing so we all went.” She gestures towards her eager looking friends. They wave and Nathan waves back with a flick of his wrist.

“Oh cool. So you are a… a Calgary fan?” Nathan gulps hard taking in the home Flames jersey.

“Well, a Tkachuk fan, actually. Yeah.” MacKenzie looks over at the 19 on her shoulder. “He was phenomenal last… ya'll. Well. Yeah.” MacKenzie looks around the amused players and shuts up.

“Sorry, let me introduce you. Guys, this is the other Mac. MacKenzie. Uh. Shit. I never caught your last name.” Nathan looks at her searching for a name.

“Blackwood.” MacKenzie answers and the guy across from Nate spits out his drink. “Um.” She just looks at him.

Nate wipes his face and stares down his teammate. “Are you fucking serious, EJ?”

“Sorry man.” EJ hands him another napkin. “No teeth.” He flashes his massive gap which makes MacKenzie giggle softly and Nathan groan.

“Let me get this straight. You live in Cale and Tyson’s building, volunteer with youth, only seem to follow Tkachuk 'cause you don't seem to know Avs hockey.” He wipes his mouth to continue. MacKenzie recognizes him as the captain from the game. “Have the same name as a goalie in the league, and are giving my boy, Nate here a run for his money.” Gabe winks with a sinister smile.

“Wait what?” MacKenzie puts her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

“What he means is…” Nate starts and MacKenzie places a finger up to stop him.

“No the goalie thing. I’m choosing to ignore the last part for now.” She says which gets a reaction from the entire table.

“Mackenzie Blackwood is a goalie in New Jersey. You happen to have the same name.” Nate explains.

“Gotcha. I’ll be honest, I catch games when I can but it’s background noise.” MacKenzie still feels her cheeks on fire but doesn’t let it stop her. “I will go to a Flames games if I'm in town when they play ya'll then a Blues game when I’m home with my dad and brother. Most of my hockey following is checking stats or social media.” She takes a deep breath not wanting to look directly at the table that all seem mesmerized by her presence. “Anyway, just wanted to say hi, which I did. So…. Nice game gentleman. Enjoy your post game dinner. Good seeing you again Nate. Cale.” MacKenzie nods and turns on her heals to her friends who haven’t touched their food since she left.

"Kenzie Lou!" Remy softly squeals.

"Don't." MacKenzie grits her teeth.

"What the hell did you talk to an entire table of NHL players about?" Mosi ignores her friend's request.

"I guess I have the same name as a goalie in the league." She annoyingly answers.

Drew starts typing before anyone can respond. "Oh yes. Mackenzie Blackwood. K not capitalized. Canadian. 22. New Jersey rookie who started last year. Wait, how does that happen?" Drew looks at MacKenzie's face . "Later. I'll google it later."

"Could we eat please?" MacKenzie takes a drink of her water and starts to finish her meal. She feels a ping on her phone and turns it over to read the notification.

Nathan's i-phone wants to airdrop you. Accept?

MacKenzie looks over and he nods at the phone. She looks back to accept and sees a screenshot from his notes apologizing for being awkward and asking for her number. She seems confused.

"Kenz?" Mosi questions.

"He wants my number." MacKenzie whispers.

"I'm confused." Remy whispers back.

"Found my phone on airdrop. Smart at least." MacKenzie chuckles.

"So airdrop your digits back to him or I will." Mosi pulls her phone out. "I just need to turn on mine. Who keeps it on? You, of course you do Mac." Mosi looks at Kenzie amused.

"Should I?" MacKenzie pulls at her loose curl wrapping it around her finger and letting it bounce back.

"YES!" Drew almost yells. "What could it hurt? Have a new contact for work at the least." Drew knew exactly what would get MacKenzie to send her number. She looks down to see Remy had written down her number on his napkin. The man always had a pen on him.

"Snap this to 'em." Remy pushed it over so MacKenzie did just that. Almost throwing her phone down as soon as she did. It buzzed not even a minute later.

Maybe Nate: Hi Mackenzie. This is Nate.

MacKenzie: Hi Nate. You can call me Kenzie or Mac

Nate: Okay Kenzie.

She looks up at him and he smiles wide.

Kenzie: enjoy your dinner

Nate: Same. I’ll text you later

She didn’t expect to hear from Nate but the next morning while getting ready for work, MacKenzie hears her text notification.

Nate: good morning. We are off Sunday and a few of us are playing cards at Cale’s place. Would you and your friends want to come over? It’s not far for you.

She stares at the text and starts to pace. Then sends out a group text.

Kenzie: Nate and some of the Avs want us to come over Sunday. Thoughts?

MacKenzie got all three messages immediately in return.

Mosi: obviously yes

Drew: yes is the only answer

Remy: fuck ya!

MacKenzie sent a text to Nate saying yes and asked what they could bring. She wasn't surprised Nate said nothing just themselves.

Sunday rolled around. MacKenzie and her friends walked down to Cale’s condo. She stopped in front of the door and Drew reached over her to knock. Kenzie looked up at him.

"What, just making sure we don't have to stand here forever." The door swung open as Drew finishes his statement.

“Nate, they are here and at least she’s not in a Flames jersey today.” The curly haired guy MacKenzie knew was Tyson from a quick google search of the team over the weekend.

“Decided to leave that at home, Tyson, but I can go get it.” MacKenzie points while giving him a half smile.

“Oh, and she...” Tyson turns to see Nathan behind him. “And she knows my name.”

“Sorry, don’t mind him. He got checked a little too hard at practice this morning.” Nathan pulls Tyson back into the condo. “Come in please.” He gestured and they moved past Nathan into the condo that was the mirror image of MacKenzie’s just slightly larger.

"Make yourselves comfortable." Cale popped his head out from the kitchen. "I'm sure you know where everything is."

"Yeah, just backwards." MacKenzie looks down the hall to the rooms. "Two or three?"

"Three. You?" MacKenzie raises two fingers and realizes her friends have already made their way into the living room.

"Thanks for coming." Nate was still standing behind her and she jumped.

"Thanks for inviting us. My mother tells me I need to make more friends here." MacKenzie sighs.

"Same actually. Tells me the team isn't enough." Nathan looks over her at his friends that were also his coworkers.

"Work, travel, and such keep my circle small." MacKenzie admits. "Oddly, same. You travel for work?" Nathan pushes his hands into his pockets and leans against the wall.

"I do then try to do different things for fun, you know?" She leans against the other wall.

"That's cool. Where are you heading next?"

MacKenzie's mind normally would be racing. Thinking of all the reasons why she shouldn't tell this essential stranger her work schedule but something about him made her feel easy. Maybe how he had more to lose if he burnt her. He didn't know what she did for a living but she could make his life miserable. Maybe it was the simplicity of their conversation or the kindness in his eyes. She felt like she could talk to him.

"Colorado Springs then off to Washington D.C. for the rest of the week and into next week." She answered him.

"Oh, I think we are in D.C. next weekend or maybe the beginning of the week." He stares at his foot kicking the invisible dirt then looked back up at MacKenzie.

"We are. Now are you two just gonna talk in the hall or are you gonna play cards here?" Gabe leans around the corner. "We've already gotten to know Kenzie's friends... let's go!" He gives Nate a look that doesn't go unnoticed. The two walk into the living room.

“Do I need to make introductions?” Nate looks around the room at all the eyes on both of them.

“Well, I googled ya’ll in preparation for today… so… I think I’m good.” She scans the room and sees a few of the girlfriends or wives. “Well, I don’t know the ladies.”

Nate took a moment to identify the few sitting around the room and who they belonged to. Pulling out an empty chair for MacKenzie. “Here, you can play here.” She sat down and pulled her legs up criss crossed under her as Gabe explained the rules. The group played poker until there were four left. JT, Nathan, MacKenzie, and Mosi. Mosi kept saying she accidentally won her table which made the competitive men agitated but made MacKenzie amused. Eventually it was just Nathan and MacKenzie.

“Kenzie, I think you and Nate need a wager of some sort.” Drew drops a bottle of water next to her and she glares up at him.

“I’m game.” Nate pipes up.

“Okay, so what if I win?” Kenzie takes a sip of water.

“Glass seats at the game of your choice.” Gabe declares.

“Okay, and if Nate wins?” Kenzie directs her attention to the captain who now has his hands on Nathan’s shoulders.

“You go out to dinner with him.” Gabe squeezes Nathan’s shoulders and smiles at Kenzie.

“Uh…” Nathan tries to nervously interject.

“That’s fine.” Kenzie tries to control her blush by not directly looking at Nathan then overcomes it to look right into his soft eyes. "Let's play."

Cale starts to deal and everyone can feel the shift of all eyes on the table even though most had scattered once they were knocked out in individual conversations. After three hands, Nathan goes all in.

"I think he's bluffing." MacKenzie whispers and pushes all her chips to the center.

"Kenzie..." He breathes out and Gabe's hand returns to his shoulder.

They place their cards down and Nathan wins with a full house. The cheers start and Nathan just stares at Kenzie who gives him a small smile. She gets up and heads to the kitchen to grab a drink. Finding Cale's rum and starts pouring more than necessary into her diet coke. Takes a drink and feels someone behind her.

"Drew, I'm not that competitive." She doesn't even turn around.

"It's not Drew." Nate murmurs.

MacKenzie turns around slowly. "Sorry. Nice game." She raises her glass to him.

"We don't have to go out for dinner, you know." Nathan shifts his weight.

"Well, a deal is a deal, right?" Kenzie tries not to breath him in as he reaches around her for a water but he smells amazing. He shrugs his shoulders. "If I won, would I have glass seats?" She leans into the counter.

"Yes, you can still have them if you want." Nate fiddles with the bottle, flicking at the paper label.

"So, dinner. When we both get back in town, okay?" Kenzie takes a sip and looks up at Nathan.

"Yes, I'll have my people call your people then." Nathan laughs.

"So Gabe will call Mosi?" MacKenzie bites her cheek with her comeback.

"Oooorrrr... I'll just text you." Nathan replies.

MacKenzie takes a drink again and winces with the burn. "That works too."

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

V my beloved. Could you please brighthen my day with ghost hunter ZITS, or some phasmophobia Tango, Impulse, Skizz and maybe Joker?

this one was inspired by the latest phasmo stream :D (27/05)

…

Impulse sits bolt upright with a gasp, but the cold, terrifying hands have already done their job. He’s see-through and his whole body is chilly. Against his best wishes, he seems to have died.

He groans and gets to his feet. This isn’t the first time he’s died to a stupid ghost but it hasn’t happened for a while, so it’s more embarrassing than anything else. And every time it does happen, Impulse gets a little nervous that he won’t come back to life. Of course, he always has so far. But he never knows when it might be his last time.

After a while, Impulse heads back outside, picking up a worn basketball on his way. He sees the rest of his team just entering the van, having fled the house as soon as the hunt that killed Impulse ended.

“Oh no!” Skizz yelps loudly, staring at the board. “Impulse is dead! Nooo!”

“Relax, he’ll be fine,” says Tango, collapsing in the chair. “He’ll come back when we’re done with this mission.”

“Why are you so grumpy?” Skizz snaps.

“Because we’ve been in that stupid house twenty times and we still don’t know what type it is. I’m tired and I’m hungry and I just want to go home.”

Huffing, Skizz turns and storms out of the van.

Outside, Impulse is morosely bouncing the ball on the ground, unable to do anything else. His friends can neither see nor hear him, but what he’s forgotten is that they can see any items they pick up.

“Impulse?” Skizz says hopefully. “Are you there?”

Impulse continues bouncing the ball. There isn’t much else he can do; Skizz can’t hear him, after all.

“Hey, Impulse,” Skizz says after a moment. “Stop bouncing a sec.”

Impulse does so.

“Let’s do code. Bounce the ball once for yes, twice for no. Okay? You understand?”

Nodding approvingly, Impulse bounces the ball once.

“Okay, good. First question: are you okay?”

Impulse rolls his eyes. “No, buddy, I’m DEAD. And pretty scared that I’m not gonna come back to life after all this is over.”

But he knows Skizz is worried about him, so he bounces the ball once again.

Immediately, some colour returns to Skizz’s pale face, so Impulse knows his semi-lie was worth it. “Thank god. I mean, I know you’re dead, but…” He clears his throat. “Anyway, um… Are you mad at me? For running away and leaving you to die?”

Impulse considers this for a moment, before deciding to tell the truth. He bounces the ball twice. He’s not mad at his best friend; he can’t blame Skizz for being scared and wanting to get out of that situation.

But Skizz doesn’t seem happy with that answer. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were,” he says sadly. “I’m so angry at myself. The four of us are a team and we should never have left you behind. I should never have left you behind. I’m so sorry.”

Impulse moves closer to his best friend and tries to hug him, but of course, his arms go right through Skizz. Looking around for any other way to express himself, he spots the salt Joker spilled over the ground a little way off. Bouncing the ball to get Skizz’s attention, he floats over to the spillage and uses the ball to spread the salt out into a makeshift canvas. He can’t touch it directly because it will hurt him so his task is harder than normal, but he manages to draw a wonky heart in the spilled salt.

Tears spring to Skizz’s eyes but he manages a smile. “I love you too, buddy. See you soon, okay?”

Impulse bounces the ball in response.

He watches Skizz return to the truck with renewed vigor. “Right!” He claps his hands, startling Joker and Tango. Jump up, guys! It’s time to get our butts back in there.”

“You’re chipper all of a sudden,” grumbles Tango. “In case you forgot, those butts got themselves kicked the last time we went in there.”

“And we lost a member of our team,” Joker adds from his place on the floor.

“All the more reason to go back in and avenge him so he comes back to us as quickly as possible. Come on, idiots. We got one more clue to find so we’re gonna do that and we’re gonna get back here and we’re gonna get Impulse back.”

Tango and Joker watch him blankly.

Rolling his eyes, Skizz tosses the EMF reader at Tango. “Come ON, people! We’ve got ghost writing and freezing temps so there’s only two options for which ghost it could be: Revenant or Spirit. You look for EMF, you-.” He throws the spirit box at Joker. “-get spirit box, and I’ll take the camera. Let’s GO.”

Impulse watches the rest of his team leave the van and head back into the house. He quickly gets ahead of them, keeping an eye out for the ghost. Even though he’s dead, he can still keep watch. Thankfully, the group decides to stay together in their search for the last clue.

Then their flashlights start to blink.

“Run!” Skizz yells.

“Don’t run!” Impulse yells, though he knows they can’t hear him. “If it’s a Revenant, it’ll outrun you! Hide! GO HIDE!”

But of course, they can’t hear him, and the group takes off running.

“HIDE!” screams Impulse, trying to hit Skizz with his ball in a desperate attempt to get his attention. “Skizz, HIDE!”

Skizz stops dead in the middle of the hallway and darts to the left, leaving Tango and Joker to continue fleeing. Impulse follows his best friend into the next room and watches him take refuge in a corner.

In the distance, they hear Tango’s voice screech, “I GOT EMF! EMF 5! THAT’S IT, LET’S GO!”

Impulse knows what that means. “Oh god… it IS a Revenant…!”

He dashes to the doorway and peers out, still hearing that heartbeat sound. Skizz switches off his flashlight, plunging them into darkness. All Impulse can hear is the heartbeat and the sound of Skizz’s quiet but panicked breathing.

After a good few seconds, Impulse spots the figure of the ghost coming at him remarkably fast.

“No!” Impulse yells, immediately tossing his ball at the ghost, achieving absolutely nothing. He spreads himself out in the doorway, blocking the ghost from going inside. “Get away from my buddy! You leave him alone!”

When this also doesn’t work, Impulse pulls the door shut and holds onto the handle. The door shakes and rattles as the ghost tries to open it but Impulse stands firm, managing to hold on against the ghost’s surprising strength.

“I-Impulse?” croaks Skizz through the darkness.

“Hang on, buddy,” Impulse whispers. “I got you. I won’t let him kill you.”

Finally, after what feels like hours, the pressure on the other side of the door lets up, and the heartbeat fades away to nothing. Skizz switches his flashlight on again to find a steady beam; no more flashing.

The hunt is over.

Impulse lets out a sigh of relief, before pushing the door back open.

Skizz scrambles to his feet and dashes out of the room. Impulse follows him all the way outside and back to the truck.

“Oh my gosh, you survived?!” Tango gasps.

“We thought you were done for, man!” says Joker, wide eyed. “How did you survive?”

Skizz exhales slowly, glancing around the van. His eyes land briefly on Impulse, though of course he doesn’t see him. But he knows his best friend is there. “I had Impulse looking out for me,” he replies quietly.

Tango gives him a quick hug. “Hey, at least we know the ghost type now. Let’s enter it in the book and get our friend back.”

Skizz nods, blinking back fresh tears. “Y-Yeah. Lets get Impulse back.”

Impulse smiles, wishing he could hug his best friend too.

Soon.

[noladyme]

My Only Sunshine - Chapter 1

Liv is as human as they come – faults and all. After a dark experience in her past, she is determined to live life on her own terms, and never let anyone claim her as theirs again. This becomes an issue, when she meets a 1000-yearold vampire, who is dead-set on claiming her as his own.

TW: Blood

It was a warm night, and I was wearing my favorite summer dress, seated on a velvet couch, in an old house.

“Well, miss Sunday. Thank you very much for coming all the way out here to speak to me. I’ll go over your resumé one more time, but I think I’ve heard all I need”. The dark-haired, pale man gave me a friendly smile. I knew better than to reach out my hand for him to shake, and simply got up to stand, and nodded at him. “Thank you, Mr. Compton”, I smiled. “Just let me know if there’s anything else you need… So, interview over?”. “Interview’s over”, he said. “Good! Calling you Mr. Compton was getting weird!”, I laughed. “Well, you did insist”. “It was a job-interview. It was only proper”, I shrugged.

Bill Compton walked me to his front door, and I was about to say goodbye, when he halted, just before going for the doorknob. “There is one thing, I wanted to ask you; and seeing as you’ve been so forthcoming with me, on everything else…”. The vampire narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”, I said. “Why did you decide to apply for the position as my day-person?”, he asked. I smiled embarrassedly. “Honestly… I need the money”, I said. “I’ve been hoping to pay down my student loan, but taking up extra shifts down at Merlotte’s just isn’t cutting it”.

“That’s not what I meant”, he said. “You just don’t strike me as the type of person to take a job for a vampire”. He raised an intrigued brow at me. “Not enough fang marks on me?”, I chuckled. The vampire chuckled, and it seemed that if he’d been able to blush, he would have. “You’re offering a good salary for what seems like an easy job; and one that I can do while still staying on with Sam. The fact that you’re a vampire doesn’t really matter to me”. “Why not?”, he asked. “Why should it?”, I retorted. “Some might say it’s dangerous to work for one of us”, the vampire said. “You’re no more likely to hurt me than any other vampire around – or human for that matter”, I said. “Besides; Sookie speaks highly of you, and I trust her”. “Well, she speaks highly of you as well”, he said.

He seemed to think for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. “If you want this job, it’s yours”, he said. My jaw dropped. “Really?”, I asked. The vampire confirmed it with a nod. “Thank you, Bill. You won’t regret it…! One thing, though… Day-person? Can’t we call it… secretary? Or assistant?”. He chuckled warmly as he opened the door for me to leave. “Please come by tomorrow. I’ll have a list for you with some things I need handled”, Bill said, as I went down the steps of the porch. “8 pm?”, I asked. “That sounds perfect”, Bill said. “See you then”. He handed me back the “resumé”, which I’d written on the back of a paper placemat from Merlotte’s. As I took it, I got a slight papercut on my finger. “Shit”, I muttered. Bill smiled slightly. “Would you like me to fetch you a band-aid?”. “Nah…”, I said, and looked at the trickle of blood. “You hungry?”, I teased. “I think Sookie might have a problem with me feeding from a friend”. “Alright”, I shrugged.

I began fishing my car keys out of my bag, and cursed to myself, as they fell from my hand, and landed in the gravel on the ground. I was about to crouch to pick them up; when I felt a gush of wind, and suddenly stood nose to chest with a very tall man. I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eyes. They were bright blue, and had a sharpness to them. “Hello”, he said, a cheery mischievous tone to his voice. “Hi”, I said, and went to pick up my keys again. The man – vampire, I realized – held them out to me, before I even so much as bent over. “Fuck, you’re fast”, I gasped. He put the keys in my outstretched hand, and grabbed my wrist, to look at my bleeding finger. “When I want to be”, he smiled. “Bill, who is this? Introduce us”.

Bill stepped of his porch, and walked warily towards us. “Eric Northman… This is Liv Sunday”. I found it hard to break eye contact with the tall vampire, mostly because he was one of the most handsome people I’d ever met. “Liv”, Eric said. He dragged out the sound of my name, pronouncing it Leev. “Yours…? She smells… pure”. I managed to look away, and turned my gaze to Bills face instead. His jaw was clenched. “My assistant”, Bill repeated, put a hand on my arm, and went to stand half way in front of me. The tall vampire let go of my wrist. “Off limits”. “I’m a big girl, Bill", I said. “I can speak for myself". “Yes, she’s a big girl, Bill", Eric smiled. ���Let her speak for herself". I frowned at the tall vampire, and shook my head. “That means you too, Vlad", I said. A grin ghosted his face.

Eric leaned his head forwards, and burrowed his eyes even deeper into mine. “Liv… You’re interesting”, he said. “Please. Tell me more about you”. “Eric!”, Bill growled. “Why have you come?”. “To discuss matters surrounding the conference. It is election year, after all”, the other vampire replied, never taking his eyes off mine. “Now stop interrupting my conversation with… Liv”. The vampire-testosterone was heavy in the air, and I swallowed hard. “Maybe some other time”, I said. “Oh come now…”, Eric smiled, his eyes digging even deeper. I frowned at him. “I said no!”, I sneered. The tall vampire seemed taken aback, and Bills eyes widened. “Ok… I’m just gonna go”, I said.

Bill followed me all the way over to my car, and held the door for me as I climbed in. I opened the window to let some air into the cabin. “Drive safely now”, Bill said. “See you at 8 tomorrow. I’ll give your regards to Sookie”. Eric smiled at me. “It was nice meeting you, Liv”, he said. “Until next time”. His intense gaze made heat pool in my lower stomach, and I had to consciously tell myself to put the key in the ignition.

I drove home to my one-bedroom rental feeling happy that I’d nailed my job interview; and stirred from meeting Eric. I supposed he always had that influence on people; Bill probably just turned his mojo down, because he had Sookie, and didn’t need to impress people in the same way. Bill was the second vampire I’d met that I’d actually spoken to, since they came out of the coffin. Eric was the third, so I didn’t have much to compare him too; but I read magazines as much as the next person.

When I got inside, I took a cold shower; trying to shake the meeting out of my system. Before I climbed into bed, I checked my messages, and saw that Sookie had sent me a text, congratulating me on my new side-gig with Bill. I sent her one back, thanking her for hooking me up with the interview.

Sookie had been a good friend every since I got to town. I’d been down on my luck since leaving San Diego; but Bon Temps had been good to me so far. I had a waitressing job at Merlotte’s, on top of the one I’d just gotten with Bill – taking care of the things he needed done during the daylight – and some good friends in Sookie and Bill; and even my other boss; Sam. I’d even go so far as calling Sookies brother, Jason, a friend – even if he did try getting me into bed with him, whenever he could. I think the fact that I was so fervent in my dismissal of him, made him have some weird kind of respect for me. I was happy – settled, even. The last thing I needed was some blonde hottie trying to get in my pants; it didn’t matter if his name was Jason Stackhouse – or Eric Northman for that matter.

---

I slept in the next day, as my meeting with Bill had been quite late – or should I say, early, as I’d not been home until 3 am. My shift at the bar was a slow one, which was good for Terry, who was having one of his bad days in the kitchen. All 6 hours dragged along in a manner so boring, it was a relief when 7 pm. came along, and Arlene came to take over from me.

Arriving back at the Compton house, I was met in the door by Sookie. “Hey, Liv! Come on in!”, she grinned. “Bill’s in the living room”. “Is it your night off, Sook’?”, I asked. “Uh huh”, she said. “Bill’s taking me to dinner”. We walked into the living room, where Bill was waiting, with a somber look on his face. “Liv… I would like to apologize for Erics behavior last night”, he said. “He didn’t do anything wrong”, I said. “It’s not the first time someone’s flirted with me”. “Eric Northman flirted with you?”, Sookie chuckled. “And you didn’t end up with your legs around his waist?”. I mock scoffed. “I am a lady”, I said. “I tend to throw them around a man’s neck first”. Sookie punched my shoulder. “Slut!”, she grinned.

Bill looked very seriously at the both of us. “This is no laughing matter, ladies. Eric glamoured you!”, he said. I shook my head in confusion. “He didn’t…”, I said. “I saw him… He was using his glamour on you”, Bill repeated fervently. “I really don’t think he did. At least I didn’t feel anything happening”, I tried again.  “Jeez… I worked for you for five minutes; and you’re already acting like my daddy”, I said.

The vampire looked confused, but Sookie broke the tension, by reminding him they had reservations. “You’re right, of course; sweetheart”, Bill said, and took a piece of paper from the coffee-table. “I made this list for you. On the top here is making an appointment with an electrician. I’ve been having some flickering lights in the kitchen. Of course, I don’t use it much, but I do want it working… Then there’s this case of TruBlood O-neg. The all-night supermarket won’t be getting another shipment for at least a week, and I can’t…”. “Honey? We’re late!”, Sookie sighed. “Where are you going?”, I asked. “A place in Shreveport. Ky-auntie”, Sookie smiled. “Chianti”, Bill said. “And you’re right. Let’s go”.

We all left the house, and walked to our respective cars, when I remembered something. “Hold up!”, I called out. I ripped some of the paper from the list, and quickly wrote down my phone number with an eyeliner from my purse. I ran over to Bill with it. “Here. You never got my number. Just in case anything else comes up”, I said. “Thank you”, Bill smiled. “Any big plans for you tonight?”, he asked. “I have a date with my neighbor’s cat. At least I think he belongs to my neighbor. He might be a stray… We eat tuna together on Thursdays”, I sighed. “I thought you were allergic to cats”, Sookie said from inside the BMW. “Our love is complex… and I take pills”, I said. “Go on now. Have fun”.

I waved them off, as they drove away; and got into my own car. It stalled a few times, before finally starting up, and I could drive home – just in time for my date with Mr. Whiskers. He was only mildly annoyed when I came out the back door 3 minutes late, with his bowl. “Sorry I’m late, honey”, I said. “I had a vampire to tend to”. The cat wailed at me, and attacked the tuna like it hadn’t eaten in weeks.

I lit a cigarette, and sat down on the steps, leaning against the screen door, reading a magazine. Some of my neighbors were having a party, and I enjoyed the music coming out of the window. It was a warm night, but not many mosquitos around. I was happy to be left alone from the little bloodsuckers, when my phone vibrated, and I found myself summoned by a large one. - Need you in Shreveport asap. Bill

I frowned at the phone. - I’m your day person. Nights are off limits.

- Fangtasia. Be there in an hour.

- Remind me to ask for a raise BOSS!, I replied; stomped out my smoke, and went back into the house to look up the address of whatever the hell Fangtasia was. Google let me know it was a vampire bar. Dinner must have been over quickly, and Bill had probably taken Sookie for a drink. I looked down at the attire I was currently wearing, and decided that if Bill insisted on being a jerk-boss, I’d be a jerk employee; and show up in cut off shorts, and ABBA t-shirt – that was fifty sizes to big, and hung off my shoulder – hopefully embarrassing him in front of his friends.

I cursed at Bill all the way to Shreveport. “Stupid vampire, ruining my date with Mr. Whiskers”, I muttered to myself, as I parked my rusty car next to a flashy convertible on the parking lot of the bar. There was a line down to the door, going all the way around the corner of the building. A blonde woman with a bored expression on her face stood at the entrance, turning away anyone she didn’t see fit for entry. I sent Bill a text, letting him know I was outside, and had no intention of waiting in line. He’d have to meet me in the lot.

I leaned against my car, kicking at a stray paper cup on the ground, when a cold finger poked my shoulder. I looked up into the face of the blonde woman. She was striking up close. “Liv Sunday?”, she said, sounding as bored as she looked. “Yeah?”, I said. She gave me an insincere smile. “Follow me…”.

She led me to the entrance of the bar, and a burly doorman lifted the red rope for us so we could walk inside. A song with heavy bass was leading some scantily clad dancers on podiums, and the air was heavy with cheap perfume and sexual frustration. The blonde led me to a table, and waved over a black clad waitress. “Order whatever you want on the house. Ginger will sort you out”, she said. The waitress smiled brightly at me. I shook my head. “No, I’m here to meet Bill”, I said confusedly. The woman rolled her eyes, and walked away. I would have given her the finger, if I wasn’t worried, she’d bite it off. “What can I get you?”, the waitress, Ginger, asked. “The most expensive thing you have that isn’t blood”, I sighed. “Long Island Ice Tea, coming right up!”, she grinned, and walked away; tugging at her tiny top as she did.

I took my phone out of my pocket, and saw I had a new text from a number I didn’t know. - Hello Liv. This is Bill Compton. I would like to extend my gratitude to you for accepting the position as my assistant. I’m writing this as Sookie is powdering her nose; as to not interrupt our evening together. Could I please ask you to add to the list, that I need to get in touch with a florist who knows where to get some sunflowers? Sookie likes them. Thank you very much.

I was deeply confused at this point, and not a little worried. If Bill hadn’t been the one to summon me to Fangtasia, then I was currently in a strange bar, surrounded by vampires, without a companion; just sitting around like a delicious crab leg on a buffet table. Sure, there were humans around, but they all seemed more focused on getting the attention of vampires, than helping me out, if needed be. I texted Sookie. - What’s Bills number? I think someone texted me, pretending to be him.

She responded quickly. - Who? Are you ok? Where are you?

I wrote back. - No idea. I’m in some place called Fangtasia.

I was still holding my phone, when Ginger returned with my drink, and set it down. She seemed about to say something to me; when suddenly she bowed reverently. “Master…”, she said, sounding like she was having a strange sort of orgasm.

I looked up, and saw that Eric Northman was standing by the table, with the blonde female vampire next to him. He gave me a slight smile, and sat down across from me; relaxing against the backrest of the chair. “Jag är inte din budbärare, bare för at du vil knulla en liten människa!”. The blonde seemed annoyed, but I didn’t understand her words. “Slapna av, Pam. Det här är annorlunda”, Eric said. “Fika på hende, då. I don’t give a shit. Just don’t ask me again”, she snarled. ”Pamela!”, Eric said firmly. “Leave us”.

“What’s up her ass?”, I muttered. “Pam doesn’t take it up the ass; she gives it”, Eric said matter-of-factly. I narrowed my eyes at him. “You texted me…”, I said. “I did”, Eric said. “Go away, Ginger”. The waitress backed away, her eyes still on the floor. “Master. Yes, master”. I raised my brows. “Wow…”. I met Erics eyes hesitantly. “Why am I here?”. “Because I wanted to see you…”, he said. He dipped a finger into my drink, and licked it. “Don’t drink this. Someone put drugs in it”.

I swallowed hard – a sudden flashback striking me, taking me to a place I didn’t want to go. “Liv?”, Eric said. “What?”, I snapped. The vampire seemed taken aback. “You’re very brave”, he said. “I don’t know what you mean”, I muttered. “Speaking to me like that… and the text you sent me back, when you thought I was Bill. You obviously don’t know a lot about vampires”. I shrugged, trying my best to seem at ease with the conversation.

“How did you get my number?”, I asked; pushing the drink away gingerly. “I’m not listed”. “I flew over Bills house, as you wrote it down”, Eric said. “I have very good eyesight. You used a .01 Ultra Black eyeliner”. “That’s kind of creepy”, I said. “You’re a flying, creepy guy”. Eric laughed heartily, the sound coming from deep within his chest. “You’re funny”, he said. “It’s like you have no sense of self-preservation”. “Well, I figure you didn’t go through all the trouble of flying over Bills house to get my number; just so you could kill me”, I said. “At least… I hope you didn’t”. Eric looked towards the bar, at the tender behind it. “Chow, get her a fresh one. Make sure it’s drug free”, he said, so quietly, I almost didn’t hear it. I realized the bartender must be a vampire as well; that was the only way he’d be able to hear him. “You don’t have to… I’m fine, really”. “It’s no trouble", Eric assured me. “This is my bar after all. It’s in my interest to keep the patrons happy". “I’m not a patron…”, I said.

Eric ignored my words. “Your t-shirt… I like it”, he said. “I’m related to the blonde, you know…”. “You’re Swedish?”, I asked. A fresh drink appeared in front of me, and I looked at it hesitantly. “It’s safe”, Eric said. “Yes, I’m originally from Sweden…”. “So, you were speaking… Swedish, before?”. Eric nodded. “You name, Liv; it’s actually the Swedish word for life”. “Huh…”, I muttered. “I always thought it was kind of geriatric”. Erics eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. “Quite the opposite… It suits you. You seem full of life”. I cleared my throat uncomfortably, and took a sip from the straw. The drink was delicious. “And… when are you from? If you don’t mind me asking”. “Are you asking how old I am?”, Eric smiled. I blushed, and took a second sip. “I am a little over 1000 years old”.

I choked on my drink, and suddenly, Eric was next to me; gently patting my back with one hand, and holding mine with the other. “Are you alright?”, he said worriedly. “Yeah, I’m fine”, I croaked. I looked up into his eyes, and saw true concern. “Really”, I smiled. Eric sat back down on the chair opposite me; still holding on to my hand. His own was cool, but not cold. I guessed he’d recently fed.

I bit my lip. “Are you really 1000 years old?”, I asked in a whisper. “Yes”, Eric confirmed. “I was a Viking”. My eyes widened. “Like with the… pillaging, plundering and… raping?”, I said. Eric smiled smugly. “I didn’t need to rape to bed a woman; or a man for that matter”. “Huh…”, I said; and took a deep sip from my drink. “Well, you do have that tall, blonde and handsome thing going for you”. He ran his thumb over my knuckles. “You find me handsome?”, he said. “Every person in this room finds you handsome”, I retorted; rolling my eyes. I looked towards a nearby table, where a young woman with obviously dyed black hair was starring at us. When her eyes darted towards me, she looked like she wanted to scratch my eyes out.

“Tell me about you…”, Eric said. “Why?”, I asked. “Because it’s only fair”, the viking-vampire said. “In the last ten minutes, I’ve told you my age, occupation, sexual orientation; and I’ve saved you from getting drugged". I was painfully aware that Eric probably had a million different ways of getting what he wanted from me, but for some strange reason, I didn’t think he’d use any of them. Not yet anyway. None the less, I still didn’t see his reason for wanting to know. “I meant, why are you asking?”, I said.

Eric played absentmindedly with my fingers – or maybe not so absentmindedly; as he seemed to know exactly where and how to stroke my fingers in a way, that sent signals straight to my core. "You’re interesting“, he said. “And Bill interrupted me before I could finish my glamour on you, to get you to tell me". I chuckled softly. “You didn’t glamour me", I said. “Of course I did", Eric retorted. “Sorry, but I think you have little too much faith in your own abilities“.

He let go of my hand, and sat back straight in his chair. For a long time, he didn’t speak, just starred at me, before his pupils suddenly dilated, and a tranquil and yet almost flirtatious expression spread over his face. “Liv…”, he said softly. “Tell me; what’s your favorite sexual position?”. My jaw dropped. “That’s absolutely none of your business!”, I growled. Eric looked completely confused, and even paler than his usual pasty shade. He furrowed his brows, and moved his head forwards; almost crouching in his chair, as to reach my eye-level. “You want to tell me, Liv", he said, his voice alluring. Abso-fucking-lutely I wanted to tell him; but not under our current circumstances. As it was, Eric was being completely inappropriate, and I had no intention of continuing our conversation. I stood up. “Thanks for the drink. Now, if you don’t mind, please go to hell".

I walked towards the door, and made it halfway through the crowd, when suddenly, Eric was standing in front of me. He looked almost enraged, and towered over me menacingly; starring into my eyes so hard, I could almost feel it physically. “Liv. You want to tell me about yourself", he boomed. “I want to go home!”, I hissed, trying to pass the imposing vampire. He moved slightly, making me have to brush against his chest with my shoulder. Eric’s hand was suddenly on my upper arm. I froze in place, as he lifted my hair slightly, breathing in my scent. “What are you?”, he asked in a low voice, his cool breath sending annoyingly pleasurable shivers down my spine. I looked up into his eyes again; and jumped a bit, when his fangs popped out. The deepest, darkest part of me wanted to put my finger to one of them, and see how sharp they were.

“Eric!”, Bills voice boomed over the music. Sookie came out from behind him, walked straight up to the 6’4 inches vampire, and hit him over the shoulder with her purse. “Looks like that’s two dates you’ve ruined tonight”, I said. Eric smiled. “But ours was going so well”, he said; his fangs retracting again. “This wasn’t a date…”, I said. “This was you tricking me into meeting you”, I hissed. “You had another date tonight?”, he asked, darkness ghosting his face. I gave him a sarcastic smile, and pulled my arm out of his grasp, stomping out of the club, past Pam. She looked amused at the situation, and stepped back to let me get to the parking lot.

With shaking hands, I opened my car door. Bill and Sookie weren’t far behind me. “I am very sorry, Liv”, Bill said. “Had I known there was a chance Eric would…”. “Forget it, Bill”, I said. “I’ll take care of the things on your list tomorrow. Right now, I just want to go home… I’m sorry I ruined your date”. “It’s not your fault”, Sookie said earnestly. “Do you want us to follow you home in Bills car?”. “No, I’ll be fine… Just, go salvage whatever you can of your night”, I said. I gave Sookie a half hug, and nodded at Bill.

Eric was staring at my car, as I drove away. I saw him exchanging a few words with Pam, before he went back inside Fangtasia.

---

I had the next day off from Merlotte’s, and after I – once again – slept in, I had plenty of time to take care of my errands for Bill. When I got back home from having dropped of a case of O-neg on his porch, I texted him the info of an electrician and a florist who could help him out with his other requirements.

My mail had arrived while I was gone, and as I got ready for a night of serving beer, I looked through the bills and catalogues; finding among them an envelope without sender. Inside was a picture of a young woman in a seductive pose, wearing very little. I recognized myself immediately. It had been taken my last night at my old job at Sugar and Spice – a night I didn’t remember much from, due to a drink I should never have accepted. I almost fell into a kitchen chair, and shuddered. I put my hand to my chest, remembering the wound I’d earned that night.  

He’d found me. I wasn’t surprised. Though my number and address weren’t listed, if Thomas wanted something, he’d get it; he had a way of talking himself in to things. Either that, or he’d use brute force. The thing that made me confused, was the fact that Thomas wasn’t even supposed to remember me. I was supposed to be just another dancer he’d taken pictures of, at the club.

I was startled when my phone suddenly rang. I picked it up, when I saw it was Sam. “Hey…”, I croaked. “Hey, Luce’… I’m really sorry to ask you this, but Coby has the mumps, and Arlene needs to…”. “You need me tonight?”, I asked, almost hopefully. I didn’t want to be alone. “You’d be doing me a big favor…”, Sam said. “I’ll be there”. “Thanks, cher’. I’ll give you tomorrow off instead”, he replied in a relieved voice. “No problem what so ever”, I said. “I’ll be there in a few”. I hung up, and hurried getting ready for work.

Merlotte’s was full of people; which was pretty typical for a Friday night. The tips would be pretty good, and I wouldn’t have to be alone with my thoughts. Sookie handed me a clean apron, and I tied it around my waist, avoiding her gaze. “You seem out of sorts”, she muttered, as I tied up my hair in a bun. “Seem? Or are you listening in…?”, I said. She looked suddenly sad. “I’m sorry, Sookie… It’s been a hard day”. She smiled a little. “I can’t read you as well as I can some other people, you know”, she said. “Whatever comes through, is usually just colors and emotions. But they’re pretty intense, so I try to avoid them”. “Why?”, I asked. “I don’t know”, she shrugged. “It’s just like that with some folks… Makes it easier to be your friend, though”. I squeezed her hand, and walked out to take some orders.

Hoyt and Jason were nursing beers in a corner, and I walked over to check on them. “Everything good here?”. “Much better, now you’re here”, Jason winked. “You know, I saw your car out back. It ain’t looking good. I’d be happy to give you a ride, when you clock out”. “I’m sure you would, but I’m not in the mood for crabs tonight”. Hoyt laughed heartily, and Jason smiled and shook his head. “Any food for you gentlemen?”, I asked. “LaFayette has some gumbo cooking tonight”. “Sounds good. Hoyt?”, Jason said. “Two bowls, then”, Hoyt smiled. “Coming right up”, I said, and took their order to the serving hatch; winking at LaFayette in the kitchen.

For the next few hours, I pushed away all thoughts of possessive men, and focused on earning my wages. Bill stopped by to give Sookie a kiss, and thanked me for my help so far; leaving me another list. “Just some time next week, will be fine”, he said. “You’re welcome to text me, Bill”, I said. “I dislike using the keys to type”, the vampire grumbled. “I prefer the old-fashioned way of writing”. “Did you use a quill?”, I asked, giving him a sly smile. “Just a no. 2 pencil”, he retorted. “And once again; I’m sorry…”. I groaned. “Please, stop… Nothing happened. I’m perfectly fine”.

Sookie gave me a slight look, which Bill caught immediately. “You’re not. What is wrong?”. “Sookie!”, I sighed. “Sorry! You’re pretty much radiating fear, honey”, she said. Bill looked at me earnestly. “I will do my best to keep you safe from Eric”, he said. “I don’t want you to worry about him”. “I’m not scared of Eric… No more than the next person, anyway”, I assured him; and walked towards the bar, to grab a tray of beers. Sookie followed me there. “What, then?”, she asked. I clenched my jaw. “Could you give this to Jane Bodehouse? I’m gonna go take my break”, I said.

I almost ran out the back door, and lit a cigarette. Sam was putting a bag of trash in the container, when I got there. “Everything alright?”, he asked. “Why is everyone asking me that?”, I almost snarled. Sam seemed taken aback. “Sorry… I’m just… It’s been a day”. “We all have those”, Sam said. “You want to talk about it?”. “Not really”, I said.

Sam scratched his head. “How’s it going, working for Bill Compton?”, he asked. “Fine, so far. It’s an easy gig”, I said. “Don’t worry, it won’t get in the way of my work here”. “I know. I just worry about you, is all”, he said. “You’ve had a strange look on your face all night”. I sighed deeply, not wanting to give away too much. “I got word from an old… acquaintance”, I said. “I’d hoped to avoid it”. “Ex?”, Sam muttered. “Not really…”. I swallowed hard. “Sam… If I… If some day I don’t come in to work… It’s not because I’m playing hookie”. “That sounds ominous…”, Sam said. “Just… I like this job. Bon Temps”, I said. “I’m happy here. So, if suddenly, I’m not around… I didn’t just skip town, ok?”. Sam walked up to me, and put a hand on my shoulder. “Liv, talk to me. What’s going on?”. Sookie stuck her head out. “Sam, we need to call Jane’s son again. She’s passed out on the pool table…”. Sam rolled his eyes, and went back inside, leaving me to smoke in peace.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I had a text; from Eric, of all people. - When can I see you again?

I rolled my eyes. - How do I know you’re not watching me now?

The reply came within seconds. - You don’t. But I’m not. Do you want me to? I decided against replying, and went back inside – chiding myself for indeed wanting that.

When I got back home, I collapsed on my bed fully clothed – but not before having checked to see if all windows and doors were safely closed and locked. Even without A/C, I’d rather sweat than risk someone coming into the house while I slept.

My phone vibrated, and when I saw who was calling, I picked it up. “What?”, I said. “Why haven’t you replied to my messages?”, Eric said. Loud music was thundering in the background. I looked at the screen of my phone, and saw that I had multiple unread texts. “Because I was working. And because I didn’t want to”, I said. That last part was a lie. “What are you wearing?”, he asked. “A leather garter belt, and a top hat”, I sneered. “Really?”. I could hear his smile. “No. Goodnight, Eric”. “Read your messages”, he managed to say, before I hung up.

I more or less had to pry my eyes open to read the messages the vampire had sent me. - I’m not used to have my messages ignored. Well, get used to it, I thought. - I could come by your job. Just say the word. - I want to see you soon. When? At least he was asking, and not telling me. That was a step up from what I was used to. - Please. That one must have hurt. I sent him a message back. - I’ll let you know. And if you insist on texting more than a teenage girl, I’ll reply like one. Ttyl lol rofl xoxo

As soon as I’d dropped my phone on the bed, I smacked my forehead. I’d written xo. That thought kept me awake for hours, and I didn’t fall asleep until the sun was almost up again.

---

As soon as I woke a little after noon, I rushed out to handle Bills errands. He’d given me until the week after, but as I saw the picture sent to me laying on my kitchen table, I didn’t want to spend a moment longer in the house. I even called Sam to ask if he was absolutely sure he didn’t need me at the bar; but he all but told me that if he saw me anywhere near Merlotte’s, he’d throw me over his shoulder, and carry me home, so I could enjoy my day off.

A little after sunset, there was a knock on my door, and I was slightly startled to see Eric on my small porch. I swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”, I asked. “I was in the neighborhood; and thought I’d save you the trouble of texting me, when you’d be able to see me”, he said. “Besides, I don’t want you driving that rust bucket all the way to Shreveport again. It’s a death-trap”. He looked towards my car, in the driveway. “You can see me now”, I said. “Wonderful”, he said, and once again dug his eyes into mine. “Invite me in”. “No…”, I said. He once again looked confused. “Why can’t I glamor you?”, he asked. “I don’t know… Maybe you’re impotent”. Eric barred his fangs; making me jump slightly. He looked dangerous. “Not nearly”, he said. “You shouldn’t test me”.

Not wanting him to think he’d scared me too much, I took a hesitant step out of the door, putting less than a foot between us. Eric smelled like nothing I’d ever encountered before. It was crisp, and yet warm; like expensive aftershave and salt water, with an undertone of something I couldn’t define – something musky.

“I don’t understand why you keep wanting to talk to me”, I said. “I get it, I’m human. Blood and sex, and all that… But you have a club full of willing participants to whatever it is you wanna do”. Eric nodded. “I know. It’s infuriating that I feel the need to be here”, he said. “But I think I found a fix for it”. “Oh?”, I croaked, doing my best to ignore the fact that a man, that looked more or less like a GQ model, was currently reaching out his hand to stroke my cheek. As his fingertips touched my skin, my breath hitched. “Yes. See, when I have sex with a human, I usually bore with them pretty quickly”, Eric said. “I thought we should just get it over with, so I can move on”. I took a step back, and my back hit the screen door. “I don’t want to have sex with you!”, I lied. “Of course you do. I’m a very good lover”, Eric smiled. “Now, invite me in, and I’ll undress you”. “Shove it up your ass!”, I said. Eric raised a brow at me. “Well, it’s been a while, but I’m up for it if you are”.

I scrambled to open the screen door, and get back inside the house. My body was screaming at me to give in to the sensation in my lower belly, but I told myself that I had to persist. “You should… go now”, I said. Eric stepped closer to me, and I felt his firm chest against my back. “Why?”, he asked, sounding genuinely confused again. “You’re… imposing”, I croaked, and turned to meet his eyes. They were piercing mine, sending tingles down my spine. “Stop trying to glamour me” “I’m not. It doesn’t seem to work on you”, he said; a hint of regret in his voice. “Though I wonder… would you let me test a theory?”. “What theory?”. Eric smiled. “Just humor me. Pam?”.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, when the blonde female vampire suddenly stood next to Eric; and hurried over the threshold, so neither of them could reach me. “What the hell?”, I said. “Yeah, Eric. What the hell? I’ve been waiting behind that tree forever. In my new Jimmy Choo’s”, Pam said. “Be nice, Pam”, Eric said. Pam drew her lips back in an insincere smile. “Hello, Liv. I am very glad to see you”, she said. “Happy?”. She looked out the corner of her eyes at Eric.

Eric gave her a look, and something unspoken passed between them. Pam seemed to shrink in front of me. “Liv, I would like you to let Pam try to glamour you”, he said. “What? No!”, I exclaimed. “I want to know if it’s…”. “Just you?”, I said. For the first time, Eric wouldn’t meet my eyes. I took a deep breath. “Fine. But I’m not coming outside”. Eric nodded. “Pam, try to glamour her. But don’t ask her to come outside where we can reach her”. He was trying to make me feel safe – it was almost endearing.

Pam took a step forward, and looked deep into my eyes. Her voice was soothing. “Liv… You want to invite Eric inside. You want to have sex with him”. I shook my head. “No… Not happening”, I said. She narrowed her eyes in confusion. “You… want to invite me inside… Have sex with me”. “No thank you”, I snarled. Pam stepped back, and began laughing. “What the actual fuck?”, she guffawed. “What are you?”. Eric stepped in between us, his back to me. “Thank you, Pamela. You can leave now”, he said. “Eric! She’s…”, Pam began. “Now!”, Eric growled. She disappeared as fast as she’d come.

Eric stood there for a moment, not turning to face me. I was about to close the door, when he spoke again. “I’m making you mine… And getting you a better car”. “The hell, you are", I sputtered. He spun around with wide eyes. “You’re saying… no?”, he asked bemusedly. “I’m not anyone’s; let alone yours”. Eric chuckled at me. “I just claimed you”. “Well you can shove that claim up your ass, as well”, I proclaimed. “You wanted me to tell you about myself”, I said. He didn’t respond, simply stood still and never diverted his eyes from mine. “I left San Diego to get away from a guy who couldn’t take no for an answer… I’m not about to throw myself into the arms of another one who does the same”, I said. “This… guy”, Eric said. “Did he hurt you?”. There was an angry edge to his voice. I looked down, and crossed my arms in front of me. “He did… It’s over. But only because I ran away”, I said. “He… It doesn’t matter. I just don’t want that again”.

For a long moment, he just looked at me; making me swallow to wet my dry mouth. “Alright”, he finally said calmly. “Are we finished?”, I asked, almost in a whisper. “We’re finished”, he said. “For now”. Eric lowered his head, looking earnestly at me. “As long as you say no to me, I won’t do anything”, he said. “I will not force myself on you, Liv”. “Why?”, I asked, genuinely surprised. “Do you want me to? I don’t mind playing games…”, Eric smiled. I shook my head. “Never mind. I thought we were having a moment here, but it’s gone”. I went to close the door in his face. “Liv!”, Eric said; his voice imposing. I halted, and looked at him again. “I don’t know why… But I will not”.

He turned around, and walked down the steps from my small porch. I took a deep breath, before running after him. He heard me coming, and turned around. “Thank you… For at least kind of taking no for an answer”, I said. I tugged at his jacket, to get him to lower his head, and I got on my toes; placing a kiss on his cheek. Once again, I was surprised to find his skin not icy, but simply cool; and I let my lips linger for a moment.

I was about to turn back, when Eric put both his hands on my shoulders, and looked me square in the face. I could tell he wasn’t trying to glamour me. “Be mine”, he said. My breath hitched, and everything in me screamed say yes!. “N-no, Eric… No, I can’t do that”. Eric looked as if I’d slapped him. My phone vibrated, and I took it from my pocket, looking at the screen. “It’s Bill… I have to take this".

Erics face dropped, and he let go of me. “Goodnight, sunshine”, he said, and walked away into the darkness. “Eric!”, I called after him. “I regret picking up your keys for you”, Eric replied, his back still to me. “I would have loved to see you bend over”.

---

[thisisawonderfulusername]

let's save the world

season one, episode seven

five hargreeves x reader

summary: you, five, allison, and diego go to find out who harold jenkins is and to try and stop him, but that mission is cut short when you see that five is hurt

trigger warnings: cursing, some angst(?)

word count: 3k

a/n: this one’s a bit shorter, so i apologize for that, but there wasn’t as much action in this episode so i worked with what i had. i guess since it came out way quicker, that kind of makes up for it lol. anywho, enjoy!

“who the hell is harold jenkins?”

you watch as he throws the coffee cup behind him, dropping the briefcase to your side. “we don’t know.” five tells them, letting out a heavy breath.

“yet.” you quickly add on, running your fingers through your hair with a heavy sigh. “we don’t know who he is, yet.” you hoped three days would be enough to find out. “we do know that he’s responsible for the apocalypse. so we have to find him. and we have to do it now.”

“how is he connected to what’s going to happen?” luther asks, looking between the two of you. all of them were confused, and understandably so. after disappearing yesterday, you suddenly come back and know what to do to stop the end of the world. you would be confused too.

“we don’t know.” five says simply with a shrug of his shoulders. it was frustrating, not knowing anything but the name of who you needed to stop. there could be many harold jenkinses, all in their own little areas of the city. you only had three days to find out which one you needed to stop, though, and you couldn’t waste any of that time.

diego steps past his siblings, and you notice the sling holding his arm. that was new. “wait, so you only know this guy’s name?” he questions, “that’s it?”

“it’s all we need.” five responds, to which you nod in agreement.

diego isn’t so ready to believe you and just go with it. “there are probably dozens of harold jenkinses in this city.” pursing your lips at the obvious statement, you stay quiet for a moment.

“well, i guess we better start looking.” you breathe out, not wanting to deal with this any longer. it’s not like you have unlimited time to figure this out. you only had around seventy-two hours, and you weren’t even sure if that was enough.

allison crosses her arms over her chest, “i’m sorry, am i the only one that’s skeptical here?” she asks, everyone turning to look at her. “i mean, how exactly do you know all of this about what’s his name?”

“harold jenkins.” five reminds her, clearly just as annoyed as you. “you know those lunatics in masks who attacked the house?”

klaus scratches the back of his head, his nose scrunched up slightly. “oh, yeah, i think i remember those guys.”

“yeah, the ones that attacked us because they were looking for you guys.” diego says accusingly, nodding his head slightly. “and you know what? i have more questions about that night. specifically for you.” he points at you and you roll your eyes.

sighing heavily, you decide it would be best to just tell them everything to get it out of the way and stop wasting time. “fine,” you begin, stepping forward slightly, “i’m one of you guys. i’m pyrokinetic. which means i can control fire.” you look between them, lips pressed together into a thin line. “any questions?” diego is about to speak again but you cut him off, “no? okay, good. let’s get back to what’s actually important, yeah?”

“yes, that would be nice.” five agrees, leaning against the back of the couch. “those guys were sent by the temps commission to stop us from coming back and preventing the apocalypse.”

“the temps what?” allison asks, voicing the confusion that all of them had etched on their faces.

shaking your head, you begin to pace. “our former employer. they monitor all of time and space to make sure that whatever is meant to happen,” you pause for a moment, freezing your movement as you look to them, “happens.”

five nods, “they believe the apocalypse is coming in three days. so,” you begin your pacing once again, walking slowly around the couch, “we went to the commission headquarters and intercepted a message that was meant for the lunatics you met.”

“that message,” you tell them, sitting on the couch and facing them, “was what we gave you. ‘protect harold jenkins.’ if the commission wants him protected, he must be what causes the end of the world.”

it’s silent as the siblings look to the two of you, processing everything they had been told. then, all of a sudden, they all speak at once, asking too many questions to comprehend. the only thing that you really heard was allison’s remark about how insane all of this is.

“you know what else is insane?” five finally reached his breaking point, and you sigh softly as you hold your head in your hands. “we look thirteen again.” he simply says, “klaus talks to the dead, and luther thinks he’s fooling everybody with that overcoat.” he points at the two of them, before looking at all of them with narrowed eyes. “everything about us is insane. always has been.”

klaus lifts his head from the arm of the chair he’s sitting in, “he’s got a point there.”

ignoring the remark, five continues. “we didn’t choose this life.” he shrugs, “we’re just living it. for the next three days, at least.”

“the last time we tried to stop it, we all died.” allison argues, gesturing to the other siblings. “why is this time any different? why shouldn’t i go home to my daughter?”

groaning silently to yourself, you stand back up, “what’s different this time,” you speak through gritted teeth, “is that you have us.” you gesture between yourself and five, “we know what we’re doing, and we have the name of the guy we have to stop.”

“we have the chance to save the lives of billions of people.” five tells them, looking to allison. “including claire.”

there’s a moment of silence once again, and allison furrows her eyebrows. “you know her name?”

“i do.” he responds, nodding slightly. “i’d like to live long enough to meet her.”

looking between luther and diego, allison slowly nods as well. “alright. let’s get this bastard.”

diego also seems to be convinced. “you had me at gerald jenkins.” you roll your eyes at his mistake.

“harold. harold jenkins.” you correct, raising an eyebrow at him.

he shakes his head, “whatever. i’ve already lost two people this week. i’m not losing anyone else.”

“yes!” you cheer, raising a fist in the air. “yes! finally, you’re understanding.” you grin, clasping your hands together. “what about you, big guy?” you look to luther expectantly.

“you guys go.” he tells you as diego comes to stand by your side. “i’m going to go through dad’s files. i still think this has something to do with why he sent me to the moon.” one step forward, two back, apparently. you weren’t expecting luther to get it, but it was still quite annoying.

diego raises an eyebrow at him, “really? you’re making the end of the world about you and dad now?” he questions, clearly annoyed.

“no- he told me to watch for threats.” luther defends himself, “that’s not a coincidence. it all has to be connected somehow.”

allison steps to his side, trying to convince him that they need to stick together. you clap your hands together, “we don’t have the time for this. let him stay.”

“let’s roll.” diego instructs, “i know where we can find this asshole. klaus, you’re with me.”

everyone looks over to klaus as he sits up, “yeah, i’m good.” he renounces, pushing himself up from the chair. “i think i’ll pass. feeling a little... under the weather.” he leaves the room, abandoning the little mission you had created.

sighing softly, you follow as diego and five walk out of the room, ready to get this all done with and be finished with the task of stopping the end of the world.

-

finding harold jenkins was a lot easier than you thought it would be. turns out, diego being a vigilante actually helped out, since he was able to get the file of the man. apparently, allison recognized him, and he had been flirting around with vanya, and she didn’t even know his real name.

getting out of the car, you sigh softly. his house was just a normal house, in the middle of a small, normal neighborhood. nothing you would expect for someone who was going to end the world.

“be careful. we don’t know what peabody’s capable of.” allison warns as you all walk up the path to the house, which seemed to be empty at the moment. lucky timing, apparently.

diego brushed off her warning, “he didn’t seem dangerous when i saw him.” he dismisses, “looked kind of scrawny.”

“so are most mass murderers and serial killers.” she shoots back, gesturing to five, “look at him.”

“thanks.” he mutters.

“good point.” diego concurs, leading up the steps to the porch. “what’s this guy want with vanya?” he questions.

“no clue. why don’t we ask him once he’s dead?” you respond, giving a sarcastic grin.

diego holds out a hand to stop the both of you, and you sigh softly. “alright, i’m gonna-” he cuts himself off when he sees that allison wasn’t there anymore, sighing and rolling his eyes in exasperation. “it would be nice for people to just stick to the-”

he once again stops talking when five grabs your hand and you both disappear with a flash. now inside the house, you glance around, jumping slightly when you hear glass shattering, followed by diego groaning in pain.

walking past him to the door, you turn the handle, grinning slightly when it easily opened. “it was unlocked.” you inform him, allison chuckling beside you.

“my way works just fine.” he mutters in response, getting up from the glass covered floor. picking some of the shards off of his clothes, “spread out. yell if you, uh... you know, you’re in trouble.”

after watching him walk off, you shake your head and split up from the other two with a small wave as you go down the hallway next to the stairs. surprisingly, it was normal. nothing that an ordinary person wouldn’t have in their home- some pictures hanging on the walls, a small bathroom.

while you were rooting around, allison called for you guys from where she was upstairs, apparently finding something of importance. all of you quickly make your way up, seeing the hatch to the attic open.

taking a deep breath, you watch as the boys go up the ladder before following them up, seeing that the attic was decorated in an interesting fashion. umbrella academy decorations- figurines of them when they were kids, heads burned off, posters with their faces scratched out. this was definitely not normal.

“this guy’s got some serious issues.” diego mumbles, examining everything.

biting your lip, you look around a bit. “i don’t think he was ever interested in vanya.” you voice your thoughts slowly, “he was trying to get to you guys. call it a hunch.”

suddenly, there’s a thump, and when you look to your side, five had fallen to the ground. your eyes widen as you quickly crouch beside him. “what’s wrong? what happened?” he’s breathing heavily, and his lack of a response worries you to no end.

allison pulls his shirt up slightly when she sees the blood staining it, and she sees the shrapnel in his abdomen. “why didn’t you say anything?” diego questions him, raising an eyebrow.

“you need to keep going.” five breathes out, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the floor. “we’re so close.”

you’re shocked you don’t stop breathing when he loses consciousness. “shit.” you barely hear the crack in your voice, because all you hear is a ringing in your ears. “get him- get him in the car! we need to get him back to the academy-” you jump to your feet, and your legs feel like jelly, but you can’t stop for anything.

it felt like a blur, helping allison and diego get five down the stairs and into the car, where he laid across the seat with his head resting in your lap. the whole time, your heart was pumping so hard and it felt like you weren’t breathing for a good while. five was falling in and out of consciousness, and you kept your fingers on his wrist to reassure yourself that his heart was still beating.

-

when you finally got back into the academy, you all carried him in as quick as possible, and you felt as if you had calmed down, even just a little bit. sure, your heart still pounded in your chest and you had to work to control your breathing, but at least you could think rationally.

“we should’ve taken him to the hospital.” allison breathes out as you all shuffle across the floor, trying not to drop five onto the hard wood floors.

“a kid with a shrapnel wound might raise some questions.” five mumbles, and you sigh softly, relieved to know that he wasn’t dead just yet.

you all manage to get over to the couch and lay him down very carefully, “yeah, well, so does the murder shrine in harold jenkins’ attic.” allison shoots back, beginning to pull off her jacket, “he’s still losing blood. what do we do?”

“we gotta get the shrapnel out.” diego commands, looking up from the boy for a moment, before he seems to get distracted by something, walking off into the hall and not responding when allison calls out to him.

letting out a short breath, you hesitantly move away from five’s side, following where diego went to see what had him so distracted from something so important. you see grace, and diego looks confused, but you feel as if your heart just went soaring. she’ll be able to help five.

-

you sat in the silent room, picking at your nails as you stare at the equations all over the walls, things you could never understand no matter how hard you tried.

after getting grace’s help to remove the shrapnel and take care of the wound, you had calmed down significantly. your heart was no longer beating so fast that you could hear it, and you had controlled your breathing.

now, you sat, just waiting. allison and diego left to chase after another lead for where harold could be, and grace had left the room once five’s wound was clean. it was only you and him. and delores.

looking at the mannequin, you scrunch your nose up, tapping your fingers against your forearm. her lifeless eyes stared into your own, and you couldn’t stand it.

“what the hell are you looking at?” you hiss, glaring at the fake woman. it felt like she was mocking you, even if she wasn’t even alive. “you shouldn’t even be here. it’s not like you’re helping at all.”

you cross one leg over the other, leaning back in the chair you had claimed as you stared at her with narrowed eyes. “you’re just sitting there. you didn’t give him your blood, and you haven’t been the one helping him figure out how to stop the apocalypse. that’s all been me, not you.”

the silence is nearly deafening as you continue to stare into her eyes.

but you were a part of what got him here. you were a part of the reason he had shrapnel in his abdomen, causing this injury.

you sneer, lacing your fingers together and resting your hands on your knee. “i only set off a grenade. i didn’t put the shrapnel in him myself.”

silence, again. you realize then that you had been talking to the lifeless woman, and you groan loudly. all those years of solitude, you had been able to keep your sanity. now, it just may be slipping away.

“you’re only a mannequin.” you mutter, biting at your nail as you start to tap your foot. “soon enough, he’ll see that. he’ll realize that there are actual people around him, and it’ll be bye-bye delores!” you throw your hands up in the air, before you freeze in place.

quickly putting your arms down, you groan once again. “i am not going to do this.” you stand from the chair, moving around the bed and grabbing the plastic form, before throwing her into the wardrobe and shutting the doors on her. you sigh softly, “much better.”

-

taglists:

main: @horrorklaus

tua: @rasberrymay

five: @anapocalypseinmymind @five-hargreeves-official @insatiable-ivy @coffee-e-addict @xplrreylo

lstw: @ohmyitsfaith @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @onedollarduck @sleepygal124 @faith-quake @stripedchickens @youcandalekmyballs @pettyjayy @libidinexx @wow-lookit-all-the-fandoms​

[suchdan-veryphil]

A Whole Ass Baby? - Jack Barakat Imagine

Anonymous said:

How about a Jack Barakat headcannon/whatever you wanna write about you two finding out that you’re gonna have a kid? I need more Jack content tbh 

Word Count: 2,367

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, getting sick, sex mention, menstruation mentioned, doctors

A/N: 

This is the second time I put something back in my drafts instead of posting it when I was done. And this is now the second time I was sad that a post wasn’t getting notes when it was never posted. I will do better. This took forever, but here it is. I love Jack Bassam Barakat. I love writing Jack Barakat. I am HERE FOR THIS

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

It had been three weeks since I started feeling nauseous. I would just be sitting down and be hit with a sudden wave of nausea, like I was on a boat for too long. I could still eat, I could still drink, I could still shake my ass to Mr. Brightside but if I sat for too long I would just be hit with the feeling that it was time to vom. 

Then two weeks ago, I was fine. The nausea was gone, the world was bright again.

Then about two days ago, it hit me again. I couldn’t eat anything that wasn’t toast, crackers, a banana, or water (although the water was a hit or miss). Too much of anything caused me to be violently sick, and unfortunately for me, “too much” of most things meant one bite. Otherwise, I felt fine. No aches and pains, no headache, no fever. I wasn’t thinking too much about it, though, mostly for those reasons. 

Meanwhile, Jack was pounding back cake, pizza, ribs, wings, margs, and everything in between four or five times a day without a second thought. I was honestly jealous. 

We were sitting on our sofa, watching The Office. I was laying on two of the cushions and he was sitting on the third, resting his elbow on my knees. I watched as he popped three pizza rolls into his mouth at once and started chewing rather loudly. In response, I groaned and pushed his shoulder with the pad of my foot. 

“Do you have to enjoy the good food in the house when I’m sick?” 

He started to reply, but I couldn’t understand him with all of that food in his mouth. It was a low grumble, and he was starting to drool a pizza stained slobber the more he attempted to speak.

“What?! I can’t understand you,” I chuckled a little and sat up before wiping his nasty spit out of his beard. He chewed the food and quickly swallowed before answering. 

“I said, if I don’t eat it then nobody will and that’s a shame. Besides, I still think you should go to the doctor.” He popped another roll in his mouth and looked over at me. 

“I disagree. My stomach has just been off. I have literally zero other symptoms.” 

“You haven’t eaten in like a week. You need to go to the doctor.” Jack raised his eyebrows at me and stared intently. He was probably right, but I hated the doctors and he knew this. 

“If I don’t feel better by Sunday, I’ll go to the doctor. Okay? Just two days.” 

We just stared at each other, both of us begging the other to give in silently. I leaned in and did my best to pout my lip without it being obvious. 

I could tell the second that he went to inhale deeply through his nose that I had won. 

“Thank you,” I leaned over and kissed his cheek gently. 

“I didn’t even say anything!” 

“You didn’t have to.” I kissed his cheek once more, getting a whif of his greasy lunch. It hit my stomach instantly, bringing me to my feet and to the bathroom to empty whatever small contents that were left. 

That was definitely the universe giving me some sort of karma. 

I could feel his hands rubbing my back as I leaned over the toilet and waited to see if anything else was going to invite itself up. 

With a deep breath, I grabbed some toilet paper and wiped my mouth before flushing and sitting on the cold tile. 

“Do you feel better?” Jack continued to rub my back. I took a second to listen to my body, and also to get reoriented. After a moment, I nodded my head and pressed my palms against the floor to push myself off of the ground. I was only a few inches off the ground when I started to feel dizzy and fell back into Jack’s arms. I closed my eyes and put my hand up to my forehead. 

“Ok, let’s go to the doctor.” I leaned against the sink counter and collected myself before I began to brush my teeth. 

I could see Jack’s face become instantly relieved through the mirror as I spoke.

“I’ll get the keys.” 

Within the minute, we were getting into the car and buckling up. Jack reached over as we stopped at a light and pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. 

“Well you don’t have a fever.” His hands dropped to hold mine, fingers interlaced. 

“I know, that’s why I really didn’t want to go anywhere. I’ve had stomach aches before,” I sighed and rubbed circles along his hand with my thumb. 

Jack nodded and focused on driving. “I know. I know,” 

It wasn’t long before we were in the waiting room of my doctor’s office. I was busy concentrating on not getting sick in front of the other patients waiting to be seen and Jack took out his phone to play a game. 

I stared at his phone screen as he made switched pieces of candy to watch them pop. I concentrated so hard on the screen that I didn’t hear when they called my name. 

“Hey, that’s you.” Jack locked his phone and elbowed my arm as I came to. 

“Oh. Oh, I’m coming. Sorry.” I turned and handed Jack my bag. “Can you hold this?” He just nodded and slung it over his shoulder casually and continued to scroll through his phone.  

I followed the RN into the examination room and sat on the chair with the noisy white paper on it. “So, Y/N, what brings you in today?” 

I sighed and sat back on the chair, making the paper rustle. “Well, I haven’t been feeling well for the last couple of weeks. I have bad nausea, I can’t keep anything down. Today, my boyfriend was eating a pizza roll and just the smell made me sick. I got really light headed in the bathroom after getting sick. I don’t have a fever or anything, but Jack, my partner, is set on me getting seen so... here we are.” 

I let out a breath and watched as the nurse processed everything. “Are you on any medication? Any change in your diet or exercise routine?” 

“Nope, I’m still not on anything and I still don’t diet or exercise.” We both chuckled at my little joke before she nodded and started to take my temp and my blood pressure. 

“Sexually active?” She asked, releasing the air from my arm band. 

I nodded my head and watched as she removed the band. “Yes indeed.” 

“Do you use contraceptives?” 

“We do.” 

“When was your last menstrual cycle?” 

“Um,” I paused and thought back to when the last time I got my period was. I couldn’t remember, which was probably not the best sign. 

“I’d like to give you a pregnancy test to rule it out before the doctor goes and prescribes you something, if that’s alright.” She opened a cabinet and began to reach for whatever she was grabbing as I answered. 

“Yea, that’s fine.” I could feel my palms begin to get sweaty as I thought of the possibility that I was pregnant. Me? A mom? I couldn’t imagine it. I slept until almost noon most days and ate mac and cheese for most meals. There was no way I could be a mom. 

Jack as a dad, though, that was something I could see. He was always ready to take care of others and make someone laugh. Jack was someone who had a lot of patience, was goal-driven, and just made everyone happy. I tried to imagine what it would be like if he had a tiny baby to love and care for, but I was pulled back by the nurse who handed me a cup. 

“Here you go, just pee in this and leave it on the shelf over the sink with your birthday written on it. You can come back in here when you’re done and we’ll let you know what we get and take it from there.” 

I took the small plastic container in my hands and sighed as I looked at it. Getting up from the seat, I couldn’t help but notice my cheeks started to hurt. I could not stop smiling, just imagining that Jack and I could possibly be having a baby. 

Once I reached the bathroom, I followed the nurse’s instructions step-by-step and washed my hands thoroughly. All I could think was “I should have drank more water today” and “Jack and I might be parents”. 

Sitting back on the seat, I bit my lip and rested my head back in the headrest. Jack had no idea what was going on in this room. He was just sitting in the waiting room with my purse over his shoulder, playing Candy Crush or scrolling through TikTok. 

I could feel another wave of nausea hit and I silently prayed to whatever higher power would listen that I would not throw up in this office. All of my energy went into holding in whatever it was that was threatening its way up. To my demise, I was quickly pulled to my feet and hunched over a garbage can to hurl. Between heaves, I heard the door open and close before being met with the voice of my nurse. 

“Well, I think we know why you’re getting so sick.” The water turned on and I soon saw a cup of water in my line of vision along with a tissue. I took both gratefully once I knew I was done before wiping my mouth and drinking the water. I threw the cup and tissue in the trash before sitting and apologizing. 

“I can take that out with me, I’m so sorry. Thank you.” I was rambling at this point, feeling just embarrassed that she had walked in on that. 

“Don’t worry about that. Grosser things have happened here, trust me. We’ll get it taken out once you leave. Now, I have news that could be either really good or really bad depending on how you take it but know that there are options from here.” 

Somehow, this only confused me so I just nodded in hopes that she would get to it. 

“You’re pregnant. This would explain the sickness, the lack of appetite, the lack of fever, and the lack of a period.” 

My heart started to race and I could hear it pumping in my ears. “Wow.” 

It was all I could muster before I looked at her and smiled a little. “Can... can we go get Jack?” 

“Of course! I’ll go get him, I just didn’t want to tell you in front of him just in case.” She smiled back at me and left the room for a minute before returning with Jack, who was still holding my purse over his shoulder. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I saw him looking so non-chalant with it. 

“Hey you. Is everything okay?” He reached out his hand to grab mine before squeezing gently and looking at the nurse and then back at me. 

“Yea, everything’s fine.” I smiled widely at him and bit my lip before looking at the nurse. 

“Well we figured out why Y/N has been getting so sick.” The nurse started before she looked at me. I nodded and held back my tears as she continued. “She’s pregnant.” 

Jack was silent for a second before he looked down at me. “Wait. What?” He smiled widely and dropped my bag to the ground before taking my other hand and squeezing them tightly. 

All I could do was nod. 

“A baby?” He asked and tilted his head, much like a dog would when confused. 

I chuckled and nodded my head. “A baby, Jack.” 

I was barely finished with my sentence before he leaned down and wrapped me up in his arms tightly. 

“Oh my god. A whole ass baby. A kid. A child.” he rubbed my back over a few times before leaning back and holding my face in his hands. 

“So you’re happy?” I asked and smiled widely, reflecting his. Jack let out a quick, “ha” before leaning in and kissing me deeply. 

Once we separated, he bit his lower lip and glanced down at my stomach. “How far along are you?” 

I shrugged, and the nurse chimed in momentarily. “By the looks of your period chart, it would look like you’re about 7 weeks along. I’ll give you guys a few minutes, but when you’re ready you can go to the front and make an appointment with us for within the next few weeks and we can follow up.” 

“Thank you.” was all Jack or I could muster as she excused herself. He looked down at me and dropped his jaw. 

“A whole baby!” 

I laughed and nodded. “Yes! A whole ass baby! Growing in here!” I poked my stomach and chuckled before I bit my lower lip to contain the smile. 

“So you bothered me and pestered me about condom usage and we ended up getting knocked up anyways.” Jack commented. I gently and playfully pushed his shoulder and shook my head. 

“Oh shut up, Barakat. Looks like that wine room is getting turned into a nursery.” 

“Says you. I was thinking your office would be comfier.” 

I laughed a little and shook my head. “Yes, because we need a wine clubhouse AND a wine closet. Sorry, how dare I?” 

With a smile, Jack helped me up to my feet and held my hand. With his free hand, he picked up my bag and handed it to me. 

“I’m carrying a child and you want me to carry my bag too?” I teased as I reached for it. Quickly, he pulled it back and slung it over his shoulder again. 

“Fine, I look better with it anyways. It’s definitely not your color,” he said and lead the way to the front reception area. 

The way my heart swelled with love and joy told me that I was on a very eventful and joyous journey with my boyfriend and our growing family. 

[moss-lyman]

r20ebecca asked for 13/14 and I chose 14 from general :)

“Come back.”

She’s laying on the couch, still in her pajamas from the night before at 3pm and she’s a full box of Oreos deep as she watches old Facts of Life reruns. She’s picked up the phone about 20 times the last hour alone, but she stops herself from calling him every time.

She tried talking to him for weeks and he kept blowing her off. She didn’t do anything wrong, she doesn’t need to feel guilty for quitting. He’s only her boss, she doesn’t owe him anything.

Okay, that’s a lie. She owes him everything, but she can’t stay in that job anymore. It’s only making her angry and she may have been abrupt at quitting, but he wouldn’t listen. She had no choice.

It still hurts that he didn’t call, though.

She looks at the phone again, about to pick it up for the 21st time when a knock at her door startles her. She wraps her afghan around her shoulders and walks to the door, peeking out the peep hole to find Josh himself out in the hallway. She doesn’t open the door right away and he knocks again.

“Come on, Donna. I can see your shadow, I know you’re right there. Let me in.”

“Why?” she asks, still refusing to open the door, and she sees him huff indignantly.

“I need to talk to you. Just open the damn door.”

She rolls her eyes and flicks the lock before walking back to the couch, and Josh barges in.

“What do you want, Josh?”

He walks further into her apartment and looks at the television. “TVLand?”

“What do you want?” she asks again pointedly. “State your business or go home.”

“Go get dressed,” he says, walking to her kitchen and opening the fridge for a water bottle.

“What are you talking about?”

“And hurry,” he says, looking at his watch. “We have less than 2 hours.”

“For what?” She stares at him like he’s grown two heads. “I don’t work for you anymore, remember?”

“Donna,” he says, cocking his head toward her bedroom. “Go get dressed.”

She sits up. “Are you okay? Have you hit your head and you have amnesia or something?” He sets the water on her coffee table before walking around and physically lifting her off the couch. “Josh, I don’t know who you think—“

“Go get dressed. I’ll explain in the cab.” He nudges her to her room, but she digs in her heels.

“I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

“We’re going to Houston.”

“Texas?”

“No, Romania,” he deadpans, giving her a look. “Yes, Texas.”

“What the hell is in Houston?”

“Matt Santos.”

“Congressman Santos? The one not running for another term?”

“Correct,” he says, grabbing her carry-on from her closet and throwing things in it. “Now, get dressed. We have a flight soon.”

“Josh, stop,” she orders, grabbing his arms. “I don’t work for you anymore. I’m not going.”

“I know you don’t work for me anymore, Donna. The temp from Hell has made me well aware of that. I’m telling you, you’re going with me.”

“I already have another job.”

He actually laughs at that and Donna’s eyes flash. “Working for Bingo Bob is not a job. It’s a death sentence. He’ll barely make it to the Convention.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Will offered me an opportunity. I’m practically second in command with their campaign.”

“I’m telling you you’re actually second in command with my campaign.”

She freezes. “Santos wants to run?” Josh doesn’t answer her, just shoulders the backpack and heads to the door, but she steps in his way. “Josh.”

“I have a nine point plan, okay? I’ll get him to run.”

Donna is the one to laugh now. “You’re ambushing him.”

“No,” he says before looking at her. “We are ambushing him.”

“Where is this coming from? 24 hours ago, you wanted nothing to do with me, and now you’re offering me a promotion?” He runs his hands through his hair in a way that tells her he’s nervous, not angry, but she doesn’t let up. “Josh.”

“I never said I didn’t want anything to do with you, Donna. I was busy. You knew my schedule.”

“Yes I did, that’s why I made an appointment for myself which you chose to ignore many times.”

He turns around to look at her. “I wasn’t ready to leave the White House,” he says quietly. “I made a commitment to Jed Bartlet and I intended on seeing it through, but then Leo’s telling me to go and you leave and it’s like it’s not even the White House anymore.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m asking you to come back. Go to Houston with me and if it doesn’t work, then I’ll leave you alone.”

She looks at him long and hard, trying to see if he’s lying, but she knows he isn’t. “What do you mean by second in command? I refuse to be your assistant, Josh. I want more than that and if—“

“Not my assistant,” he assures. “You’d be like senior staff to Leo. What I was doing the first campaign.”

“We’re gonna need a speech writer.”

“Does that mean you’re in?”

She bites her lip for a moment, but doesn’t have to think very long. “I’m in.” He goes back into high-speed motion, but she stops him. “I have a couple conditions.”

“Name them quickly. We really gotta go.”

She brings her hand up to tick off her fingers. “I will not file or type a single memo, note, press release, or whatever else for you. You’ll do it yourself or hire an assistant. You don’t come to me for the admin garbage. Number two,” she says pointedly when he starts to walk out of her room, “my opinion holds weight.”

“Your opinion always holds weight.”

“Well, this time around, I don’t have to run everything by you first. You’re not my liaison to the Congressman.”

“Anything else?”

“I get a massive salary bump if he runs and we start making money.”

“Fine. Let’s go.” She still won’t budge. “What?”

“You have to shake on it. I need your word, Josh.”

He drops the bag he’s been carrying and stands up straight, reaching his hand out for hers. She grabs it and he looks her right in the eye. “You have my word. If we pull this off, all those conditions will be met. I swear.”

He shakes once and she grins at him before taking her hand back and pushing him out of her room. “Get out of here, I gotta get dressed,” she says and shuts the door on his equally happy face.

[tammythompson-singslikea-muppet]

Betrayal (Stan Uris x reader x Richie Tozier Reddie)

Soooo I wrote this a long time ago and put a lot of work into it but then didn’t end up being super happy about the ending and the fandom slowly dying so I never posted it. Revisiting the story and re-writing a few things I have decided to post it so ENJOY!! I couldn’t really come up with a better name if you have any suggestion I would gladly take them.

Warnings: swearing, some sexual references and mentions of sex

aged up 18/19

Bold = flashbacks 

Part 2

You walked into the dinner on a slightly sunny morning in July. It had started to get warmer in Derry but since it was still early in the day the temp was barely out of the seventies. You sat down next to a familiar mop of perfect curls at the bar,

 "I could kill a man for a coffee right about now."

 "Is that so." The boy responded sipping his coffee from his mug. You both let out a laugh. The same waitress as always came over and immediately poured you a cup of coffee without even having to ask.

 "Thanks, Josie." You picked up two packets of sugar and dumped them into your coffee along with a little bit of creamer. After taking a sip the boy looked over to you with a small smile, 

"I guess I shall live another day".

 "Lucky you."

A moan escaped your lips as you were pushed against the wall of the bathroom, basically swallowing each other's tounges. One hand was tangled in the beautiful mess of curls the other rests on his bicep which leads down to his hand at your hip, the other at the back of your neck. Heavy and passionate were two things someone from the outside might call it but you could only feel need. The door open and closed before a voice rang out,

 "I guess you're taking the break up with Richie pretty well then?" Beverly continued over to a stall. You and Stan pulled away from each other, the Uris boy quickly making his way for the door. When he opened it he was met with an older lady and immediately apologized, squeezing his way past her. A blush very noticeable on his cheeks. She walks in and glances over to you "Wrong door" You shrugged. She shook her head knowing better and went into a stall. Beverly walked out and just laughed at you. Failing to conceal a laugh you brought a hand to your mouth. Beverly washed her hands and you both exited the bathroom and walked towards the counter. "Stan took care of it all" Josie smiled. You pulled out your wallet and handed her an extra tip anyway. She smiled and thanked you. 

"Did you walk here?" You asked Beverly as you left the dinner.

 "No Bill dropped me off." She motioned over to Bill sitting in his car, it seems Stan found it first and was leaning against the car talking to Bill. 

"No Haystack today?" 

"He's still sick," She scrunched up her nose in disgust."-But he's getting better." When you looked up at the car you could see someone sitting in the backseat. Suddenly it was like you were fighting with yourself to turn around every step that you took. Beverly looked over to you and mouthed sorry. You told them that you didn't want people taking sides, and you were glad that they didn't. But that doesn't mean it hurt any less to see someone you used to be so close with, and not even have it in you to say hello. Beverly grabbed something from the front seat before joining you by Stan, who was conversating with Bill and the boy in the back seat. You didn't even want to say his name let alone look at him so you just stared at the ground.

 "Bye Bill, see ya, Eddie." You almost winced at his name. As you, Stan, and Beverly walked over to your car you could feel Stan about to apologize. He could barely get out the word 'I'm' before you pointed a finger up at him.

 "I said no apologizing," he sighed and sat down in the passenger's seat," I said no picking sides, and I meant it you do not need to apologize for talking to one of your friends." 

"But I feel b-," 

"I told you not to feel bad either." You looked over at him and showed him a smile. "Now be my DJ, we're going over to Mike's." Stan gladly turned on the radio as Bev in the back groaned, 

"But his music taste sucks,(Y/N)!" you laughed and pulled out of the parking lot.

                                               *          *            *

Mike welcomed the three of you with a smile and directed you towards the living room. Beverly walked up to Mike as you and Stan trailed behind. You could see her whispering into his ear. Being curious as to what was short-lived once Mike turned to you and Stanley.  

"So what have you two been up to today besides playing tonsil hockey in public restrooms?" 

"Subtle. very subtle." You glared between the pair on the couch. Stan looked around the room trying to avoid the question, and you just ignored it entirely. "How's your truck coming along?" 

"Yeah did you get that part Bill said you needed?" Stan butted in. Not even looking at her you could feel Beverly rolling her eyes.  Mike just laughed at your change of subject. 

"Yeah, I just ordered it this morning. Hopefully, it will be the only part I have to order and I'll be driving you losers around in no time."  The four of you spent most of the afternoon talking about a little party you guys are throwing for Ben over here at the farm. He had been gone the most June, out visiting family, and when he came back y'all did a welcome home movie night but he got really sick. So now it was your idea to just throw a whole dang party cuz why not, the kid deserves it. Although the only thing that really makes it a party is decorations. Seeing as it'll just be the eight of you as always goofing around. 

 "I think the final question is," Mike turned around to look at you. "Are you gonna be ok with Richie and Eddie here?" 

You didn't want to answer this question. Everything seemed so different the last time you were all together. It was actually that same night, that Ben came home when you caught them. You haven't spoken to or even seen Richie since that night. Although you still weren't very keen on the idea of seeing them, you weren't even sure how it was all gonna go with your dramatic little ass, but you were gonna face it for Ben. And s' mores.

 "I guess we'll see how it goes." Stan smiled at you, completely unconvinced that this wasn't going to turn into some sort of emotional disaster for you. 

"Have you talked to him at all?" Mike asked. You looked down at your feet causing Mike to put a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

"It sucks, I know. But, next to Bev respectively, you're the toughest girl I've ever met, and Richie is gonna feel like complete and udder shit for at least a month, maybe two, but that doesn't mean that you have to. We're gonna have loads of fun and you're totally gonna forget what a shitty week you've been having." A grateful smile graced your features, 

"Thanks, Mikey." Mike looked over to Stan who was talking with Beverly and leaned in closer to you. "So what's going on with you and Stan?" Mike has been very speculative over what has been going on with you and Stanley. The two of you were in vulnerable states, both going through difficult breakups. Mike didn't want to see his friends in any more hurt than they already were, which made him highly skeptical of your and Stan's, a bit, lusty escapades.

The question through you off a bit. The thing is you hadn't really thought of much about what you and Stan were doing. Neither of you treated it very seriously and were just trying to find someone to dull the pain. It wasn't a very healthy coping mechanism and both you knew that, but anyway threw caution to the wind. For once in his life, Stanley felt out of his head. He wasn't overthinking anything, because it just felt good. And at the moment that's all he really wanted to feel, same as you. Neither of you ever stopped to think that maybe it felt a little too good. So instead of hashing out all the pain and misery the both you just though it easier to get a little horny. You've never actually slept together, but you don't think the rest of the losers believe that. The other day you were at Mr. Keene's store with Bill picking up a few things and he proceeded to throw a pregnancy test at you and said

  "Here I-I'll call Stan and tell him thu-thu-the news" You started at him shocked for a second then threw it back at him. 

"Hardy har har, you want me to track down someone who's ACTUALLY pregnant then leave the test in your mother's bathroom? Hmm, I bet that would lead to an interesting conversation now wouldn't it Mr. Denbrough." You spatted out quickly and both erupted in laughter, then Bill motioned over to Greta sitting behind the prescription pick up counter. After that, you were turning heads with all the noise and loud laughter being made.

"Umm, I don't know. It's just a bit of tension release I guess. Something easy and simple between friends." The words came out of your mouth quickly wanting to move away from the subject. That seemed to be your new hobby, avoiding subjects. You could tell that Mike wasn't trying to pry. He was just worried about the whole thing. You were gonna reassure him that everything would be fine, but for one: You didn't know that and for two: The house phone started ringing. You nodded your head towards the phone and Mike went to take of it.

"This conversation isn't over."

 "Uh-huh," 

Stan walked over to you. "What's the conversation about?" Stan questioned. You sighed

 "Nothing. Just about us." At that moment Stan turned his head down towards your's then immediately stopped what he was doing. The next thing that was about to happen - that Stan stopped from happening - was something that told Stan that this whole thing was gonna come back to bite him in the ass. And that maybe Mike has a point being worried about you two. 

See the thing is, Stan is not a very affectionate person to someone other than who he is in a relationship with. When you are just a friend occasional hugs and a hand on a shoulder are about as touchy-feaey as Stan would get, unless it's movie night then he'll end up resting his head on someone's shoulder. If another loser was standing right beside you sensing your unease and possibly slight confusion, that Stan was sensing, it would be a totally normal Ben thing to just put a hand on your four-arm rubbing gently. And it would be a totally normal thing for Bill to lean down and press a gentle friendly kiss on the top of your head, of course not without a sly remark from Richie. 'But that's over now.' Stan thought to himself. But a thing like that, an innocent little kiss on the top of the head to comfort a friend was not a very Stanley thing to do. Yet there he stood looking slightly down, not being much over a head taller than yourself, having to stop and think to himself about what the heck he was doing. Because that was exactly what he was about to do, press a kiss to the top of your head. 'It's just an innocent kiss! That didn't even happen! Don't you dare overthink this Stan!! Don't ruin yet another good thing with stupid fucking overthinking!!' While yelling at himself in his head his gaze had never left the top of yours. Suddenly his eyes were no longer looking at your head but rather into your eyes. You had leaned your head up to notice that Stan was staring at you. 'Shit! Shit! Shit!' There goes Stan again yelling in his head.

 "Whatcha thinking about Mr. Boy Scout?" In what felt like years to him, Stan finally blinked, swallowed, then answered, 

"Nothing." And with that and much to Stan's luck, Mike walked back into the room.

 "Was just a telemarketer- anyway what are we talking about?" 

 "Absolutely nothing," Beverly smirked at you and Stan. The awkward silence didn't last long when Beverly spoke again. 

 "Uh, I have to drop off something at Richie's" 

"Count me out." The eye roll and tone in Stan's voice hurt you more then you expected. Another totally unexpected feeling was that you suddenly felt bad for Richie. He and Stan had been friends for ages.  It was this exact thing that you didn't want happening when you told everybody not to pick sides. And now you are standing right next Stan listening to the disdain in his voice when Bev mentioned Richie and it almost made you feel sick. 'Girl! Get your shit together! The last person you should feel bad for is Richie fucking Tozier! You lost a best friend because of him, its only fair he looses one too!' your mind screamed at you.’ But that still didn't get rid of that feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

The rest of them have been doing pretty alright with it, according to Bill, Bev has been a little snippy to them, but apologizes. Bill says he's Switzerland and honestly you're thankful for that but it must suck for him the most because of it. He tells Bev that he tries hard not to be mad at them, but he also feels like in doing so it's an injustice to you, so he really just tries to split his time with you guys down the middle. Mike is the true neutral out of them, he really doesn't like the confrontation but has admitted to wanting to punch them both in the teeth at least once. Ben says he is really upset at them and has been telling you that he's only not talking to them that much because he's sick and he hasn't been talking to anyone that much that isn't Bev. But you also once overheard Bill tell Stan that he hasn't even spoken a word to Eddie, on account of the fact that he was the one who introduced you and Richie and that just really struck a chord with him. You brought it up to him once but he faked a coughing fit to avoid it then changed the subject. He and Stan are the only two who have made an effort to avoid or not talk to Richie or Eddie, but as much as you tell them you just want everybody to get along and you don't want anyone else getting hurt you can't exactly control people.

                          *time skip to party*

"Eduardo, àndale, let's go!" You yell to Eddie in the car as you and Richie walk up to Bill's door. You were so excited to see Ben and were always happy to hang out with all the losers. Eddie gets out of the car as Richie opens the door,

 "Billiam, the threesome have arrived!!" You and Richie walk in hand-in-hand Eddie in short distance 

"Quit calling us that, Rich! It's fucking gross!!" Eddie shouted from the doorway, closing the door behind him. You walk into the living room to find Ben. Like always he's sitting next to Beverly on the couch so you venture over there 

"HANDSOME HANSCOM!!! WELCOME HOME!!" He blushes at your nickname and gives you a smile.

 "Thanks, (Y\N)" It felt nice to have Ben back with all of the losers. The bunch of you asked Ben questions about his trip and messed around for about an hour, before deciding to put in the movie. They all look at you and as you were leaning on Richie's shoulder. 

"What?" 

"The movie?" Stan questioned.

 "Oh right! It's in my car I'll be right back." 

You walked out to the car and sat down in the front seat grabbing the movie out of the glove compartment. You open the door to your car as Stan gets out on the other side. Standing in front of the car, preparing to go in, your breath hitches in the back of your throat as you see Eddie's car. Your mouth goes dry and you feel like you just want to crawl back into the car and drive home. Stan walks over to you and puts an arm around your shoulder. Suddenly he feels the same way, letting himself be affectionate like this. But when he looks down at you and sees the look on your face he throws all that aside. Stan squeezes you into his side rubbing his hand up and down your forearm. You take a deep breath and lean into him. Stan feels his heart flutter as he sees and can almost feel you finding comfort in him.  You turn your head to look up to him. You would've felt the same flutter had your mind, heart, and stomach not be so focused on your ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend.

 "It's gonna be alright. Right?" You ask, the smallness in your voice pained Stan. His nervousness was gone now, replaced with anger. Not enough to present on his face, but enough for him to hear your voice ring in his ears when he sees Eddie on Richie's lap when the two eventually get inside. 

"Yeah. Yeah, it's gonna be fine. I promise." He unwraps his arm from and holds out his hand, palm up. 

"You won't start shit with Richie or Eddie?" You said lacing your hand into Stan's, the pair of them dropping down to your sides as you start for the door. Stan gives you a smile and nods 

"Promise." 

You opened the door and entered the house again, this time with the movie. You handed it over to Bill then sat down on the couch next to Ben, on his other side was Beverly at the end of the couch. Mike sat down on the other side of you at the other end of the couch, Stan was sitting over in the recliner beside the couch on Bev's side. Eddie and Richie were on popcorn duty so they were in the kitchen. Far away enough from the loser's sight Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie's waist while he stood in front of the microwave waiting for the popcorn. 

"Stop, Rich, they're gonna see us."

 A muffled "No they're not," came from Richie who was now snuggling his head into Eddie's neck. Eddie looked around nervously for a second. When he saw no one present he relaxed into Richie and leaned his head up against the boy's who's was in his neck. The microwave dinged and Eddie jumped. Richie laughed and let go of Eddie getting a bowl from the cabinet,

 "Scared of a microwave Eds?" Eddie dumped the popcorn into the bowl handing back to Richie,

 "Take this dickwad. And don't call me Eds!" The rest of the losers heard their usual bickering as they entered back into Bill's living room. You gave a smile to Richie and he sat down on the floor at your feet. He handed Beverly the popcorn then grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders, leaning his head back. You laughed and your hands went to play with his beautiful, although messy curls.

"Stop! I worked really hard on these curls!" Stan smacked away your hand as Mike opened the door.

 "I just can't!! I'm a sucker for the curls." You whined. Mike laughed, smiling at his friends,

 "Come on Bev is trying to teach us yo-yo tricks." Stan let out a laugh. As you walk into the living room Bill is in front of the couch with one of Ben's yo-yo's failing to do a trick Bev is doing right next to him with ease.

 "You'll get it someday Denbrough." 

"H-h-how about you try it huh?" Bill sassed you, his eyebrows furrowed together, mouth in a pout. You couldn't help but chuckle at his frustration, which could mirror the frustration of a little boy or a toddler even. Your eyes move over to Ben and a smile grows big on your face as you pull Stan over to where Ben is patting the cushion next to him. As you sit down next to Ben your eyes wander toward the back of the room in reaction to your ears hearing laughter. You, obviously, didn't know Stan's eyes were following until you felt his person stiffen like a board 'It's gonna be alright. Right?' the look that you gave him and the tone in your voice haunting his brain, reminding himself to keep a lid on it. There they were right before you, Eddie sitting comfortably in Richie's lap, his legs hanging over the arm of the chair. Richie's arms holding him there securely. They were laughing at Bev doing funny tricks with her yo-yo behind Bill so he wouldn't see, still determined to get the trick right. You hadn't noticed you were staring until suddenly Eddie's eyes were staring right back into yours. Everyone else seemed to notice as a silence fell over the room. Mike coughed and you snapped your eyes down to the floor. 

"So are we gonna play a game or something?" Stan asked, putting a hand at the small of your back rubbing lightly. Ben saw out of the corner of his eye. He saw how your shoulders dropped as your body visibly relaxed. You had noticed it yourself. Ben looked over at Beverly and when she noticed he started quickly shifting his eye back from her to you and Stan. Bev gave him an 'I told you so' look. 

"Yeah, we got games in the closet who wants to play Clue?" 

"Yes!!" You yelled. You and Bill high-fived. 

Stan winced and rubbed his ear "Ow! That was my ear!" 

When Richie finally got the guts to look over in your direction he wasn't expecting to see your hand caringly rest itself on the side of Stan's head 

"Sorry" He heard you say with a soft laugh. One that he knew all too well. A little sign of embarrassment, but not too much that you would go shy. He could also hear the soft sympathy in your voice. He noticed something about it. Not that it was different. No, it wasn't different at all. That was the thing though; your tone wasn't even the slightest bit different from the way Richie remembers your voice sounding. Not when talking to anyone else, but when talking to him specifically. What he heard in your voice was what he had always heard in your voice whenever you would look at him with those eyes full of love and caring. 'But why would you have that tone in your voice talking to Stan,' Richie had wondered to himself. Then he saw Stanley's hand. Up at his ear when you had shouted, drop down to the small of your back. His eyes glued to Stanley Uris' thumb, as he rubbed it against the small of your back in a soothingly intimate way. It made an emotion surge throughout Richie. He didn't quite know what it was but he knew that he didn't like it. 

You were searching around a bit for Richie, confused when you couldn't find him anywhere downstairs. When the movie had finished up Ben didn't feel so good so Beverly took him home. You had gone along for the ride to get some more drinks for the rest of you. When you got back to Bill's, Richie was nowhere to be seen. When you first walked into the house you went to the kitchen with Bill to put away the soda's grabbing one for you and Bev. Going back to the living room you noticed it was only Bev and Mike. 'Geez, where'd everybody go?' You thought to your self. You looked over your shoulder to find Bill headed your way. You turned around and noticed Stan on the stairs face scrunched in frustration on the phone. 'Poor thing' You assumed he was on the phone with Patty, the two of them haven't been along too well recently. You turn back around, 

"Hey, Mike, you seen Richie or Eds?" He shook his head. 

"Richie I don't know, but I thought Eddie was talking to Stan over there." You gave him a small smile and muttered thanks before you went over to Stan. You felt bad disturbing him on the phone but he seemed almost relieved to get out of the conversation. You stuck your hand between the banisters on the stairs and tapped a finger on Stan's knee.

"Hey, have you seen Richie?" You hesitantly ask Bev. 

"He's over there by the stairs with Mike." She smiled reassuringly at you and put a hand on your shoulder. Richie saw you approach the two of them and put his head down expecting you to be there to talk to Mike. But when Mike walked away he looked up surprised.

"Hey, Rich." An awkward feeling settled in the air. 

"Hi" a hint of optimism in his voice. Richie felt relieved that you were actually talking to him, although you weren't all too thrilled about it, you wanted to get it over with. Maybe help things get back to normal. 

"Uh, thanks for letting me and Eds come to the party. I know you, Beverly and Mike planned it so, thanks." A pretty genuine smile mixed with a little unsettlement, not knowing what you were gonna do or say. 

"Well they're your friends too, and the party is for Ben anyway so." Your voice was small and fragile. Richie's felt his body relax. He didn't know if it was because the sound of your voice made me feel like the worst person in the world or because he was relieved that you weren't yelling at him. He supposed it was a little bit of both. 

"I'm surprised they all still talk to me." Upon hearing that, you immediately thought of what you overheard Bill say about Ben not talking to Eddie. 

"I truly don't think they would have cut you off forever, I mean they were your friends before they were mine-" 

"Yeah but your more likable" You chuckled and Richie smiled, 

"The truth is they had talked to me about it and I told them I didn't want anyone taking sides. But still, I think only maybe, Ben and Bev would have given you a real silent treatment. I'm sorry that Stan kinda has." 

"No, No you have nothing to be sorry for. It's all on me. But thank you. For asking them not to pick sides. It means a lot." The hallway fell silent again. 

"I don't want you to get offended or anything, I truly don't mean anything by this,-" Richie was now being overly cautious with his words, he really didn't want to hurt you more than he already has. "I was just a little surprised when Stan cut me off as he did. You two never really seemed that close, now he's practically glued to your hip." 

Richie's tone fell more toward anger as reached the end of his sentence, his mind thinking back to Stanley's hand on your back. A part of him added that in just to hear your answer. Had you already moved on? Is that why you were talking to him because you had moved on to Stan? Why did this upset him so much? When you answered with a little, 

"Yeah, honestly me too." Richie felt not just his confusion grow but also his anger.

This wasn't like Stan. If Stan would have wanted to be in a relationship with you he would have told you. 'Well maybe she just doesn't want to tell you?' 'No.' He thought 'That couldn't be it, she sounds just as confused as I do. What was Stan getting at with her?' Richie was snapped back into reality when Eddie came bounding down the stairs loud as usual, shouting, 

"Mike you're out of band-aids! You should put that on a list or something, do you know how infected cuts can get without the proper bandage or ointment?!" Richie laughed and smiled at Eddie. 

"Do you even need a band-aid?" Beverly asked amused by Eddie's usual antics.

"Well, no but still!" Eddie saw you and froze, but when he saw that you were laughing a bit he relaxed.

He had been extremely nervous to come to the party. It would be the first time all eight of you would be hanging out since you had caught him and Richie. Not to mention it was a party for Ben, and Ben hadn't even talked to him since Beverly told him what happened. Eddie couldn't even count how many times he had asked Richie if it would just be better if they stayed home together. But every single time Richie would reassure him that everything would be fine, even though he was asking himself the same damn question. Eddie was practically shaking about seeing you again. He felt so guilty about going behind your back with Richie, but he couldn't help himself. He had spent all that time in pain thinking Richie didn't love him back, so when Richie actually told him that he was in love with him. It was all Eddie could think about. All the voices in his head telling him how selfish he was being, were tearing at him, but they were pushed aside. He was so tired of longing for Richie on the sidelines. He deserved happiness too. Eddie Kaspbrak was not proud in any way of how he got it, but the happiness he felt when being with Richie was something otherworldly to him. How could he let it go? How could he let something so precious and important to him, something he wanted for so long, slip through his fingers?

"Well hey, me and (Y\N) could g-g-go over to Muh-mister Keene's." Bill threw a wink in your direction 

"I swear to god you throw one more fucking pregnancy test at me, Denbrough!"

Stan shouted, "What?" as the rest of you laughed. You had walked away as Richie's laughter died down when his mind had put two and two together. Richie then put his arm around Eddie and pressed a kiss to his head to try and calm himself down. 'I can't fucking believe he would do this to her!' 

You laughed with the rest of them and sat back down next to Stan who was looking more confused by the second. You explained what happened at Mr.Keene's to him. All of you laugh even more when you bring up framing Bill for knocking someone up. Stan leaned over and whispered in your ear 

"You did tell him we aren't actually sleeping with each other right?" You leaned over to his ear 

"Of course I did. He just doesn't believe me." You both shake your heads laughing 

"Bev and Ben didn't believe me when I told them either." 

"Yeah, I don't think Mike does either, but honestly it's not like we would really believe them if it was the other way around or something." Stan laughed,

 "I might believe Mike, but the others, probably not" 

"And what are you two whispering about?" Bev wiggled her eyebrows. 

"'Oh Stanley I love the way you cuddle up to me in the middle of the night!! You're such a good lover and such a strong man!!'" Bill squealed out in a girly voice. 

"What the fuck!!" You shouted in between fits of laughter. The whole room was in hysterics as Bill threw his arms around Mike. Richie stood by the entrance of the living room with Eddie who was dying laughing. Richie, however, was faking a laugh, trying his hardest to keep his cool. He put on a smile on his face and gave a little chuckle as he told Eddie he was going to get a drink. Mike then threw his arms around Bill the same, playing along. The pair was then pretending to make out, their hands foolishly caressing each other's bodies as they made kissing noises. Stan hoped you were too busy laughing to see the intense blush across his cheeks as he laughed as well. Lucky for him you were doubled over in laughter and lucky for you as well, as you were also hiding a blush behind your laughing. "Is that really how you see us?" You laughed asked Bill before he could answer Richie's voice was heard loud across the living room. 

"Hey, Stanley can we talk for a second?" 

Stan looked over to you. The soft expression on your face almost seemed to calm him.

"Hey, do you know where Richie went?" You asked softly. 

"I saw him go upstairs. I think." 

"Thanks, Stan." You walk up the stairs wondering what the fuck Richie would be doing upstairs. Your eyes immediately go to Georgie's room. You always got a weird feeling from that room ever since he had died. Forgetting about Richie for a second you take a few steps closer to the door of the, now forever, young boy's bedroom. You reached your hand to the handle of the door when you heard a noise coming from Bill's room. You're head snapped around at the sudden noise. You took a deep breath and headed towards Bill's room. 

"Why the hell are you in Bill's room, Richie?" you whispered to yourself. You opened up the door a crack deciding to peep on Richie in hopes of scaring him. You look into the room and see that Richie was with Eddie. Second, guessing whether or not you should go on with the scare, knowing Eddie will you chew your ass out for it, you heard your name in conversation, 

"Hold on I think (Y\N) and Beverly are back." You looked in and saw Eddie going for the windows. Before he could reach one Richie grabbed his wrist and pulled Eddie back next to him on the bed.

 "They went to go bring Ben home, they're totally not back yet just  relax." You notice the soothing tone in Richie's voice. Usually, when Eddie is freaking out over nothing Richie just sounds annoyed. You've never really heard him be soft with Eddie like that. Which drew you to the conclusion that he was being soft for a reason. 'But why would Eddie be so worried about me and Bev coming back?' You watched as Richie put a hand on Eddie's shoulder. 'What the hell is going on here?' You continued to watch Richie's hand very closely as it traveled from Eddie's shoulder up to his neck with a thumb rubbing gently behind his ear. Your confusion grew more and more with every passing second. Eddie then put his hand up to Richie's. 'surely to swat him away' you instinctively thought. Only he didn't, instead, he gently held the other boy's hand. You could feel your throat begin to dry, slowly becoming hard to swallow. You watched as Richie leaned in and rested his forehead against Eddie's. Everything in you stiffened as you begged for it all to be over. For Eddie to say, 'what in the world are you doing?'. Or for Richie to playfully shove Eddie over messing around. For the whole scene in front of you to fade away like some sort of hallucination. Hell!, maybe even for someone to say 'what about (Y\N)?' at that point you would take anything. Any sort of hesitation or wavering. But your internal pleas would never be answered. Probably never even heard no matter how loud they were screaming from inside of you. You were forced to watch by eyes that couldn't pry themselves away from the scene before them, almost like they were watching for answers or confirmation of what seems now to be what has been happening behind your back for God knows how long. You felt your stomach drop, your heart, and it plummeting down together. As Richie, confident as ever, took Eddie into his arms connecting their lips together with such passion. Your eyes couldn't watch any longer. Before you even knew what you were doing, your hand had balled into a fist and slammed itself against the white bedroom door. Two loud bangs echoed through the house: The first one from your fist connecting with the door, the second from the door hitting the wall of Bill's bedroom. Leaving a large dent Bill would have to explain to his mother later. The two boys jumped from the sound. So had everybody downstairs. Their eyes wide faces drained of any color, you wouldn't be able to think they could get any paler. But when they realized who was at the door, who made that noise. It was almost like they had turned to ghosts. Eddie looked into the eyes of his best friend. He didn't think eyes could hold so much rage yet so much heartbreak at the same time. It was enough to make him nauseous. He would have bet you good money that at that moment he would vomit. At that point, you had started to cry. Richie stood frozen his face-melting from shock into guilt as he watched the tears stream down your face. As if this wasn't humiliating enough, being cheated on with your best friend, when you turned around to run, you were met with the confused faces of all your friends, except Ben of course. 

"What happened?" Mike asked looking at you with sympathy. 

"They're fucking!" You stated with anger and betrayal. Beverly looked at the two with anger. 

"NO! No! We would never not while (Y\N) and I..." You couldn't hear the rest of what Richie was saying as you raced down the stairs to get out of there. Stan following in suit as Richie walked into Mike's room. Stan walked to the opposite side of the room as Richie closed Mike's bedroom door. Stan didn't know what Richie wanted with him, what he knew was that he did not want to be in that room with Richie, hell he didn't even want to be in that house with Richie. Stan didn't quite understand why he felt this fucking mad at Richie, all he knew was that he was this fucking mad at Richie. And with that much anger, he didn't know how to keep it in. Nor did he want to. Of course, Richie just wants to go back to being friends, he just wants his best friend back and everything to be back to normal. And that's what Stan thinks this whole thing is about. But boy was Stan unaware of the shit show that Richie was about to load on him. Stan stood against Mike's dresser, arms crossed waiting for Richie to spew some shit about, forgiveness or going back to normal, starting over. His eyes were almost already in the back of his head just thinking about it. Stan was starting to question just truly naive Richie was thinking things could just go back to nor-

 "What the fuck do you think you're doing taking advantage of (Y\N) like that!" 

Hold up, wait, WHAT! Stan looked at Richie like he had grown three heads, eye sharp like daggers, 

"What in the actual hell are you talking about?" his voice was cold and stern. Stan could not believe what Richie had just said to him. How fucking dare Richie of all people accuse him of taking advantage of (Y\N)! Richie flailed 

"I saw how she was with you, I heard what Bill said! How could you be so fucking carel-" Stan wouldn't even let Richie finish that last word. 

"Don't you even fucking say it." Stan may have looked calm before, but now you could see everything in his demeanor change. Sharp, anger-filled eyes, clenched jaw, clenched fists, with tall erect posture. Richie swallowed stopping for a second. There was still nothing changing his mind on what he believed Stan to be doing. 

"What is wrong with you, why would even think it's ok to just use (Y\N) for sex!?-" Stan was fueled with rage, he couldn't believe that Richie would think that. He has known Stan for years, and after all this time, this is the conclusion he makes about him. He watched as Richie shouted as he paced back and forth, spewing his mouth like a damn hypocrite, arms flying through the air and in Stan's face. Stan had just about had enough, 

"Cuz, of course, it never crossed your mind for even a second that I might actually care for her!" Richie was just about out of breath with anger, small pants were in between his words as he said: 

"If you really cared about her you would have left her alone not taken advantage of her while she's vulnerable." Stan didn't even need time to process that sentence before his mind had decided what would come out of his mouth. The truth. The last sentence to come out of Stan's mouth was something that Richie, the rest of the losers listening through the door, and LEAST of all Stan expected to hear. It was like something in him just snapped. The whole conversation, if you could call it that, Stan was able to keep his composure. He was never really one to yell, but something had just taken over him as he walked up to Richie,

"Oh really, you want to talk to me about caring about (Y\N), wake up and smell the roses Richie YOU FUCKING CHEATED ON HER!!! WITH HER BESTFRIEND!! YOU ARE THE REASON SHE'S IN A VULNERABLE PLACE! DON'T YOU STAND HERE AND TRY TO TELL ME THAT I DON'T CARE ABOUT HER YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I'M THE ONE THAT FUCKING LOVES HER!" 

They do say it makes you crazy. That's exactly what happened with Stan, over the year and a half that Eddie introduced her to the group and Richie and her starting dating, Stanley Uris had fallen in love with her. And it had made him crazy, either he wasn't able to admit it to himself, having had both been in relationships at the time of the meeting and falling for the young lady, or he was just that stupid and blind that couldn't see he was in love with (Y\N) (Y\L\N). Stan walked over to the door, twisting the handle, looking straight ahead avoiding all eye contact with anybody, walked out the door. (Y\N) trying to catch up right behind him.

[snippychicke]

Aftermath--Two

Aftermath: An TUA fanfic

Chapter Two

Rating: Teen

Mentions of blood, slight gore, nightmares

Part One

Lorelei had to admit: Otto's pain tolerance was astonishingly high. Sure she had slipped him a couple of the stronger pain pills she had stored away, but Lorelei still expected screams and curses as she tended to the mess of his eye.

Once she realized how severe the damage was, she tried again to persuade him to let them take him to a hospital.

"No."  

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" She all but pleaded, pulling away her bloodied rag to focus on his good eye, wishing she could put her hands on her hips. "Your eye is severely damaged. I don't know what to do other than remove it, and I--"

"Remove it," he interrupted, closing his good eye as if that was the end of the conversation. Lorelei paled, and she was fairly sure Raymond, her unofficial helper, swore under his breath. 

"I've only watched that procedure a few times," she continued, stressing her words. "I am not a surgeon. I am a nurse. Do you really trust me to--"

"Yes."

The short answer floored her, making her stomach twist. Otto opened his grey-blue eye, meeting her's with absolute conviction. He didn't know her. He was about to lose his eye. And yet he seemed barely fazed. 

"Ok. Okay then. Ray, drag that chair closer. I think I have a surgical text upstairs..."

"Lei, you can't…" He protested as she stripped her gloves, muttering to herself about supplies.

"I've done worse," she admitted as she disappeared up the stairs. 

Less than an hour later, she had a surgical text propped on the coffee table to guide her through the procedure of removing the remains of his eye. She expected it not to go well considering her lack of sedatives, but the most he vocalized was a few pained grunts before catching himself and clenching his teeth. She was honestly more worried about Raymond passing out than she was her patient, seeing the dark man pale and waiver more than a few times when she spared him a glance. 

Raymond disappeared into the bathroom as soon as she admitted she didn't need his help anymore followed by the sounds of retching. Lorelei finished wrapping gauze to hold the bandaging in place, sighing once she was done. 

"I have some antibiotics I want you to take," she admitted, stripping off her gloves for the final time. "Do...do you have someone to look after you?" She paused, studying his rather expressionless face, and his blue-grey quickly looked away from her, confirming her fears. 

She offered her hand, slowly helping him sit up. "I have a spare room, so you can stay here until you get your strength back. I know my place isn't much, but it'll let me keep an eye on that too."

He nodded his head slightly, looking rather defeated. Feeling somewhat awkward, Lorelei continued as she tried to straighten up the mess. "And besides, it's like Nanna Chestnut used to say, it's not our place to judge. And, well, you already paid an eye for... whatever."

Raymond reappeared from the bathroom, and Lorelei excused herself as he waved her towards the kitchen. The kitchen was as small and worn as the rest of the house, dingy curtains covering the cracked windows. "Did I just hear you offering a bed to him?" He whispered harshly.

"Well considering I just removed the man's eye, and I'm hardly a surgeon, it seemed prudent."

"Lei, I know you’re trusting to a fault, but that man tried to kill us!"

"And yet you brought him here," she shot back. "What do you expect me to do? He already made it clear he won't go to a hospital. Do you want me to kick him out onto the street? Or do you want me to call the cops and explain that I went ahead and removed his eye and gave him meds I stole from the hospital?"

Raymond gritted his teeth, running a hand through his short hair. On the one hand, he knew she was right. Morally there was nothing else they could do. But on the other hand, he hated to leave the woman he had come to consider as a sister to fend for herself. 

She didn't have any special abilities like Allison, after all. Since childhood, he had known her, the two of them throwing a ball over the picket fence that separated her yard and his grandmother's. Knew she would rather give someone her purse than even think about fighting.

"I-I'll stay here then," he decided, stomach twisting at the thought. He didn't want to, but he had no choice.

"What? No! Go back home to Allie, I can handle myself."

"...Allie went home with her family." He admitted quietly. "I'd feel weird being there without her anyways." 

"Family? I thought she didn't have any around here?" 

"She doesn't. Look, I'd rather not talk about it right now." Not with that man--Otto--likely listening in. Raymond glanced out to the living room, only slightly relieved to see him still rather slumped on the couch. "I'm gonna run home and get a change of clothes. Then I'll be back." 

"Fine," she relented with a sigh. "If you insist."

Raymond left the kitchen, pausing at the front door to look at Otto reclining on the old couch, still unnaturally pale with sweat beading despite the chill of the late November night. "Don't you dare hurt her." He swore, though he highly doubted the man had the energy after everything. Especially when it seemed like an effort just for Otto to lift his head and open his good eye.

"Jag ska inte," he said, his words either slurred from just his accent or the pain meds Lorelei had given him. Granted, Raymond doubted it would have made any difference. He knew a little Spanish, and that was not it.

"One wrong move and I'll finish the job my wife started," Raymond continued anyways, even though he highly doubted he could be so….ruthless. 

Either Otto didn't care or didn't think he would either as he allowed his head to slump back on the back of the couch, not bothering to designate him with a response. Raymond swore under his breath, praying desperately that everything was in one piece when he returned.

                                                      --+--

Otto hadn't moved an inch when Lorelei finished washing her hands and putting things away. "Okay big man," she sighed, and Otto barely stirred in response. "Sleeping like that is not going to do you any good, so come on." She grabbed his lax hand and tugged slightly. 

With a protesting grunt, Otto shifted and did his best to stand, leaning heavily on Lorelei as the room spun. Her head barely came to his shoulder, which made it awkward, but she held on with a fair amount of strength. 

"You are not allowed to fall, understand?" She said as he wavered. "That would knock those clots loose, and I doubt you have much more blood to lose." 

He grunted in agreement (or she assumed) before taking a hesitant step. Then another, and slowly the paired shuffled towards the small bedroom adjacent to the living room. "Besides," she continued mainly to break the silence. "I doubt I'd be able to lift you up off the floor."

A small smile graced her lips as he gave a huff of what she took as laughter. Her smile remained as she helped him ease into the small twin-sized bed, kneeling down as soon as he was settled to pull off the thick leather boots, ignoring his blatant stare as she quickly undid the thin strings with practiced efficiency. 

Habits were hard to kill, after all. 

"Swing your legs over, and get some rest," she commanded as she stood. "I'll allow another dose of the stinger pills, but then it's plain old Tylenol for you."

He nodded as he collapsed back on the bed which looked even tinier with his more substantial frame laying on it. Lorelei didn't like how pale he was, or the sweat beading on his forehead. Out of habit she brushed the pale blonde hair checking for a temp and gave a sigh of relief when she found none.

Yet, at least.

                                                       --+--

Raymond half expected a blood bath to be waiting for him when he returned. Except there was only the small blood stains Lorelei was scrubbing on the splintered wood floor, Otto nowhere to be seen. 

"Did he leave?" He asked hopefully, but the dark look he received answered otherwise. 

"He's resting in my spare room," she still answered, gesturing to the partially closed door with the bristle brush. "So shush." 

Raymond groaned as he sat on the hardwood chair closest to the woman. "You brought him to me, I'm going to take care of him."

"I have a moral dilemma, okay?" He sighed. "I am allowed to have conflicted feelings about saving the life of the man who tried to kill me and my wife."

"Why didn't you call the cops, Ray?" She asked, giving up on the spot and resting on her heels to look at him. “Why didn’t you force him to a hospital or something? Why bring him here?” 

"Yes, Lei," he leaned forwards, arms resting on his knees. "I'm going to call the cops, and tell them what? That I have a vacuum salesman I thought was dead laying rolled up in my best rug with obvious bruises around his neck and missing an eye because my wife stabbed him? How is it going to look with a black man bringing a man like him into a hospital? Especially when that man is me?"

"Why don't you tell me exactly what happened?" She shifted to sit on the couch, and once he had her full attention, Raymond obliged. The craziness of seeing a cop just turn away after a simple whispered command from his wife. Learning of her secret power. Meeting Allison's rather startling brothers. Not just their personalities, but their ethnicities. 

Learning his wife, his perfect wife of an entire year, was from a lot farther than he could imagine. He could see the doubt and concern in Lorelei's face, but her lips stayed pressed together and she listened without a word as he continued his story. Even after he admitted the truly insane moment of yet another brother in law appearing in a flash of light, citing more time travel, and took his wife away. Forever.

"And that's when I brought him to your doorstep," he finished, leaning back in the chair and waited. 

Lorelei pressed her lips together in thought before giving in and asking the question pressing to the forefront: "Having you been dropping acid?"

"Lei!" He protested, jumping to his feet though mentally, he had tried to prepare for this kind of reaction. “Are you seriously asking me that?” 

"What else am I supposed to think?! Time travel? Superpowers? It sounds like science fiction!"

"This is exactly why I couldn't go to the police. Because if my own sister wouldn't believe me, there is no way they would. Lei," he walked over to the couch and sat next to her, drawing her hands into his. "You are the sister of my heart. Do you really think I could ever lie to you? Or take drugs? To ruin my people's reputation like that?"

She looked at where their hands met, her fair skin even paler in comparison with his. Nana Chestnut always called them siblings of heart, because they always understood each other. They nearly always agreed. She knew his motivations and passions as if they were her own, and vice versa.

And no, she couldn't see him lying to her. Or willingly do anything that could be used against the equal rights movement. 

She looked up and studied his face. The worst bit was: he didn't look like someone hallucinating or having any kind of psychotic break. He seemed somehow as calm and collected as always. 

"...shit."

                                                      --+--

Otto woke with a gasp, the fear from his nightmare chasing him as his hands shot to his neck, assuring he was free to gasp for air. He was already sitting on the edge of the bed before his mind fully woke up; the previous day’s events slowly untangling from the nightmare.

Not that there was much difference. 

His throat ached and burned, but it was nothing compared to his eye, or rather its remains. It was disorienting, having half of his sight gone as he studied the small room barely big enough for the bed and a chest of drawers. Early morning light streamed through threadbare curtains, allowing him to see the glass of water and the white pills sitting next to them. 

Part of him wanted to forgo medication. He had trained nearly his whole life to withstand pain. To push it down and compartmentalize it until it was merely an annoyance. 

But he also never had his eye removed either. And he had to admit whatever the woman gave him the night before had dulled his mind enough to temporarily forget feeling like his heart had been ripped from his chest. 

It wasn't Axel. He reminded himself as he carefully stood, the room spinning as he shakily took the few steps to the chest of drawers, leaning on it as he popped the medication into his mouth and drank the lukewarm water. 

They had known the woman had powers. That's why they had tried to neutralize her as quickly as possible. But they had failed. Again. Their near-perfect streak shattered by this family of oddities. 

But where did Axel go? Why had he woken up at the mercy of the woman's husband? Had his brother honestly thought him dead? And just left him? 

Axel was still alive, right? The thought made his stomach turn as much as the medications and the dizziness did as he clenched his fist.

 No, his brother had to be alive. Axel was the best of them. Their older brother (by five minutes to Otto, but even as an adult, Axel had lorded it over him). Axel had to have survived. 

He couldn't be the only one left. He had to find his brother. 

The thought gave him purpose as he pushed off from the dresser and forced his legs to work as he stumbled out of the small room into the living quarters of the house. His focus was on the front door and the light that was streaming through the small window panes. He had to leave. He had to find Axel. 

Why was the world swaying so much? 

"Woah! Hey, no!" He stumbled as his foot met a thick rug and nearly toppled over if it wasn't for the small woman from the night before, (Lori? Lee? Some odd English name) coming to help him regain his balance. "C'mon on buddy, you need to sit your ass down before you fall down."

It bruised his ego how easily she manipulated him to the nearest chair, helping him ease down into it before disappearing once more. He could only close his eyes, trying to will his heart to stop pounding and his to stop lungs burning from the short walk. 

He felt as weak as a newborn kitten. How was he supposed to do anything like this?

"Here, have some tea." A cold glass was placed in his hand, though her hand hesitated to release it until she was sure he wouldn't drop it. "You lost a lot of blood, my friend. I'm surprised you got this far without passing out." 

The drink was cold and sweet, oddly helping both his stomach as well as his head settle. "Thirsty, were we?" She teased as he finished the glass, still knelt by his side. Muddied green eyes smiled up at him softly, the same ones he remembered hazily staring into last night. 

Except then they hadn't been so cheerful. Just… determined. 

Her smile fell as he continued to stare down at her, and she reached up to brush his forehead with her wrist. "No fever, which is good," she muttered after a moment. "How are you feeling?" 

He wasn't even sure if there were words for how he was feeling, let alone what the English equivalent was. The ache of his throat. The burning pain of his eye. The infuriating absence of half his vision. 

The emotional pain in his chest that threatened to consume him.

"Well, I take it that it's not pleasant by the look on your face," she guessed as he stayed silent. "Did you take those pills I left you?"

He gave a slight nod to that, which seemed to appease her. "Good, though they could be hard on the stomach. How about I whip up a light breakfast? We can see how long it takes Mr. Overprotective there to wake up." 

He had to turn to look where she gestured, seeing Allison's husband asleep on the small cramped couch, an old quilt draped over him. 

She stood up and offered her hand, "You want to come with me to the kitchen? I have a fresh pot of coffee just made, if you're a coffee drinker. Also, not easy on the stomach, but the Lord smite me if I ever deny anyone coffee." 

He hesitated for a moment before accepting, and it was embarrassing to have help to stand and then need to lean on her smaller frame as she helped him across to the kitchen. By the time she helped him to the small kitchen table, he felt weak and shaky and all but collapsed into the chair. 

It wasn't long before she had a mug of steaming coffee set before him and a dish each of sugar and creamer. The woman continued to talk cheerfully as she busied herself with breakfast, he only partially paid attention. 

At least the coffee was strong. 

Part Three 

[ameliashepherdwannabe]

@doep1csh1t

Its a bit long i know, but i love long one-shots. Please let me know if you like it! its based in early season 12.

I Don’t Get Sick!

Amelia’s POV

I sat outside of GSM, it was the middle of summer, almost the hottest week. The breeze was warm on my face, almost like a fever dream, that peaceful.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder, I turned my head around quickly,

“Amelia! Jeez I called you like twelve times!” Meredith spat, her voice causes my head to throb, is she seriously that loud,

“God, Mer I was just zoned out,” I returned,

“Get up we have a consult,” she grabbed my arm and pulled me up,

“Easy there no need to be aggressive,” I tease, we laugh and I put my head on her shoulder, for some reason it just feels so heavy,

“Mmm, your nice and warm,” we walk slowly through the front doors of the hospital, “Too warm,” quickly she puts her hand on my forehead, but I didn’t move my head, her hand was so cold,

“You have a fever Amelia,” she says, kind of like a question,

“It’s not a fever, I’ve been in the sun,” I move my head away from her hand quickly, which causes the world to spin slightly, “I’m fine, let’s get to the consult,”

She nods, still a bit suspicious. I needed to make sure that I wouldn’t make any move that would cause her to think I was sick. I never get sick.

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

I was about leave the x-ray room when Mer held me back and waited until we were alone. I was too tired for her shenanigans. I was freezing and my whole body was heavy. My head throbbed and I was a little nauseous. I just wanted to fling my body onto my bed and stay there. My shift was over now.

“How do feel?” Meredith crossed her arms and looked down at me,

“Fine,” I lied,

“How are you actually? Don’t force me to make you the patient-” I let a breathe slowly out of my mouth and grip the table, it’s like Meredith was psychic, she knew I was never gonna want to give myself up, “You’re nauseous,” she came up to me and put her hand on the back of my neck then my forehead, still they were cold and I felt like crap. But I couldn’t tell if I was hot or if I was cold. Then a set of chills caused me to shake, and badly. Mer put her hands on my shoulders to stop me from shaking. I was cold, so, so, so cold. She brought me into her arms and I felt warmth.

“You’re burning up, my god” by this point there was no denying it, but I was too stubborn to give in,

“I don’t feel so hot,” she laughed at my comment,

“That’s the fever talking,”

“Nooooooo,” She was comforting, like my mom was when I was sick when I was little.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” she put her arm around my shoulders and led me out of the x-ray room. A second wave of nausea hit me and I grabbed Mer’s waist.

“You okay?” she asked, no I feel worse then shit,

“I’m- i’m fine,” i am not going to vomit in the middle of the hallway, oh god. This time I was way more nauseous. Then Maggie caught up with us. Great. Just Great.

“Oh my god you look terrible,” she says too loudly, I put more of my body wait on Mer. I could feel the cold sweat dripping down my face.

“She’s got a fever, for sure. Maggie, could you get a thermometer from a supply closet?” Mer asked her, then another wave of nausea hit me and I gagged,

“Amelia, you okay?” Maggie asked concerned,

“Ugh, I think I should probably get to a bathroom,” I looked at Mer, and ran to the nearest bathroom and to the middle stall and threw up. Mer ran up to me and rubbed my back. I laid down and admired the cool floor. She flushed the toilet then pushed my hair away. I was wet, sticky, and shivering. Someone came in and locked the door.

“Hey it’s me,” I heard Maggie knock on the stall door and Mer got up and unlocked it. I moaned when she moved her hand away from my face.

“Did you get the thermometer?” she asked, Maggie nodded and handed it to her. Everything is so fuzzy and soft. She was about to put it in the thermometer in my mouth but I put my hand out to stop her,

“I think I ate something bad,” I closed my eyes,

“Amelia, I don’t think it’s food poisoning. We ate the same thing, and I don’t feel bad at all,” Maggie sat down and put her hand on my shoulder,

“Amelia I really need to check your temp,” Mer pleaded,

“No thanks, I’m good,” I replied. She sighed and shoved the thermometer in my mouth. It was cold.

beep

beep

BEEP

“101.7, not the worst but could be better. Amelia I think you have the stomach flu,” just then I leaned over and threw up in the toilet again, panting heavily in the toilet bowl. Meredith rubbed my back and held my hair back. The rubbing just made me even more nauseous and caused me to throw up again.

“Go get an IV bag and tubes, saline and some energy drinks,” Maggie nodded and scurried out, Mer got up and locked the door behind her. But with Mer’s hand gone it made even more nauseous. If that was even possible. I vomited more. How did I eat that much food? Mer ran back to me while I slumped back on the stall wall and flushed the toilet. She stroked my head and held me in her arms.

“Do you think you can make it home without yacking on my car?” she asked jokingly,

“I don’t think there’s anything left in me,” she laughed at that.

“You ready to get up?” I nodded, she grabbed me under my armpits and helped me get up. The world spun and I flopped into her arms. I dug my head into her neck and felt her cold skin against my hot, sweaty face.

“If you tell me you don’t feel awful, I might have to duck tape your mouth shut,”

“I don’t feel that bad, just a little nauseous,” I lied,

“Mmm-hmm, sure,” we walked slowly out of the bathroom and met Maggie in the elevator.

“Mer, I’m gonna fall asleep,” I say softly and start slipping from her grasp. Maggie comes over and helps Mer hold me up.

“Once we get into the car you can sleep alright?” I nod and lean against Maggie, Mer deserved a break.

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

Halfway to the car, my insides felt an urge to return to the outside world and I vomited in the nearest trash can. I moaned and Maggie rubbed my back, which never helps, but it makes me feel worse if it’s not there.

“Ugh, I don’t get sick,” I groaned,

“Everybody gets sick,” Maggie said sympathetically,

“C’mon let’s get you home. And you better not stink up my car,” Meredith came up to me and led me to the car. Maggie helped me in and sat next to me. I put my head in her lap and snuggled up to her while Mer started driving home.

“I’m so cold,” I shivered while another set of chills ran through me.

“You poor thing,” Maggie stroked my face and pushed my sweaty hair away, “Your really, really warm Amelia,” I close my eyes and Maggie puts her jacket around me. Just then, Mer skids over a rock and it makes my stomach turn.

“Mer,” I say queasily, “pull over,”

“Amelia-,” Mer questioned,

“NOW!” I opened the car door and got off the side of the highway, grabbed a tree to stabilize myself and threw up. Maggie ran after me and rubbed my back. I dropped down to my knees and dry heaved. Meredith ran out of the car and handed me an energy drink.

“Here, drink this it’ll make you feel better,”

“Mm-mmn. No,”

“Amelia you’ll get dehydrated,”

“So I can give my body another chance to just throw it up? No thanks,”

“Fine then i’ll get the needle and the IV bag of saline,” I sit my back against the thin little tree and grab the drink out of Mer’s hand. I open it, which takes up all of my strength and stare blankly down at the blue, sweet-smelling liquid. I bring it up to my mouth and stick my tongue into it. The taste made me queasy. I sipped a little bit and swallowed it.

“That much wouldn’t even cure the thirst of an ant. Amelia, drink a good sip.” Mer said. I looked back down in the drink and saw my sweaty, pale reflection. I put it up to my mouth and pretended to swallow. I put the drink down and quickly capped it. They seemed to buy it. Maggie and Mer helped me up and into the car. I leaned back against Maggie and closed my eyes knowing I felt too terrible to sleep. Mer drove home.

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

I ended up sleeping the entire way home. When we got their, Maggie woke me up and spoke softly, “Amelia, we’re home,”

“Mmmmmm,” I groaned and she helped me sit up, “Maggie my stomach hurts,” I hugged my torso and leaned against her. Mer came and open the door which caused a burst of cold air to come in and a set of chills to run down my spine. Maggie rubbed the sides of my shoulders,

“We should get her inside,” I heard Mer say softly to Maggie,

“Amelia, can you get up?” Maggie asked, in response I just plopped my head back on the chair which made my ears ring.

“My head hurts too,” I mumbled. Mer sighed and wrapped her hands around my body and lifted me up. I rested my head on her shoulder and wiped the sweat off my face on her shirt. I heard Mer say something about taking care of the kids. Maggie told her she would and went in first. We stumbled into the house slowly and I looked up the staircase that normally looked so much smaller than it did right now.

“Amelia we need to get up stairs and you can go to sleep okay?” I nod put my hand on the rail. She helps push me up. I take a step, then a step, and a step. Suddenly my head starts to really hurt,

“Oww,” I say,

“What’s wrong?” by this point she’s practically holding me up. My legs turn into jello and I start to fall. Mer catches me and lowers me slowly. I was shaking uncontrollably.

“Chills, huh? Come here,” she opened her arms for me too lean back in, but I just put my head against the railing and looked down. Admiring the coolness of the wood. I felt a twinge of pain in my stomach and exhaled slowly. I gave in and leaned back in Mer’s arms and she put her hands on my stomach. They were warm, from touching me, so I took them and put them under my scrub top. I closed my eyes and I let her stroke my head. I heard the kids laughing and Maggie joking with them.

“You ready to get up again?” she whispers in my ear. I nod and let her help me stand up. I leaned on her and let her half carry me. We finally got to her room and she helped me into her bed.

“Why are we in here?” I asked her softly,

“Because it’s closer to the bathroom,” she said,

“Of course,” I said, the emotion drained from my voice. She left the room and came back with my pajamas.

“Here change into these,” she handed them to me, I shook my head,

“Amelia you're still wearing your scrubs,” she sighed and pulled me up. Then she took my top off, leaving my bra on, and but the thin t-shirt on me. I gave in and changed my pants to a pair of loose shorts and laid back down. Mer tucked me in and sat down next to me. She rubbed my back and felt my forehead and the back of my neck again.

“Amelia, i’m gonna check your temperature again,” she got up and rustled around for something in the bathroom. I felt really queasy again and sat up.

“Mer,” she grabbed a trash can and I put my face over it and breathed in and out of my mouth trying to get less nauseous. She rubbed my back which made me want puke more, but I couldn’t, there was nothing left in my stomach. I put my head back down on the pillow feeling especially nauseous, clammy, and cold. Mer pulled up the sheets and I burrowed in. She put the thermometer in my mouth, I was too weak to fight anything.

“103.4,” Mer sighed, “you’re getting worse, I’m gonna get some motrin m’kay?” I just closed my eyes.

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

“Auntie Amelia?” Someone shook me awake, “You’re so sweaty!”

“Zola?” I muttered,

“I have some ice cream, water and medicine for you!” she said cheerily, I needed to downplay my symptoms, I couldn’t seem so sick in front of Zola. So I just smiled and sat up, no matter how much it killed my head. She put down the tray and skipped around the bed and turned the TV on and snuggled up to me.

“Are you gonna eat your ice cream?” she snuggled up to me,

“Of course Zozo!” I tentatively take a big bite of the cold food, instantly regretting swallowing it. I smiled at her and she smiled back and started playing Finding Nemo.

“We’ll only watch half, it’s almost my bed time,” she hugged me tightly,

“Take your medicine!” she took the purple syrup up to my nose, the smell made me gag, “It’ll make you feel better!” she sang, i’m not so sure about that. I let her feed it to me and followed it with a large gulp of water. Maggie came in,

“Zola, let’s let Auntie Amelia sleep alright?” She nodded and gave me a kiss on my forehead, “Eat your ice cream!” I took the last bite of the ice cream and she smiled and skipped out. Maggie closed the door behind her and I shimmied back under the covers. She came over and moved the tray on to the floor and sat next to me. Another set of chills ran through me and Maggie slid herself under my head and squeezed me while I shook.

“Maggie i’m gonna-” she brought the trash can up to me while I threw up again. She rubbed my back while I kept vomiting. Mer ran in and had the IV bag and needle in her arms.

“No Mer please, I just want to sleep,” she didn’t listen and just yanked my arm,

“When I’m done you can sleep okay?” I leaned back on Maggie and groaned while she inserted the needle.

“I’m putting in saline and anti-nausea medication,” she held the bag and shut the lamp off. Maggie and Mer got under the covers while I curled up into a ball.

“Let’s get some sleep okay?” Maggie turned towards me,

“Yes let’s do that,” Meredith spoke softly and pulled me into her grasp.

“Yep,” I agreed. I drifted off to a feverish sleep while Mer stroked my sweaty hair and Maggie softly snored.

What a day.

[trillian-anders]

chambers - vi

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, angst, slow burn

word count: 3892

Description: post-endgame. Steve Rogers has passed away from old age. The one remarkable thing is that no one knew his heart would be in the condition it was. He was able to save one more life. After receiving his heart, strange things start happening. Including something that would change your life forever. (Inspired by the Netflix series of the same name.)

Well, this was awkward. 

Peggy sat across from you, a gorgeous off the shoulder red dress, red painted lips, hair curled perfectly. Lipstick stained the rim of her wine glass. “Relax,” She soothed, her hand coming to place gently over yours. Her nails were red lacquered, perfectly manicured. “You look like you’re waiting for the floor to drop from beneath you.” She humored. 

“I think in some ways I am,” You smiled at her. You almost couldn’t believe you were even here. You’d come back to almost the minute you’d gone into the ice. A separate timeline. A new future. You looked around the room, other couples just as cozy and close. It was a romantic italian place, pianist playing softly in the corner. 

This was your first date with Peggy. Steve’s first date with Peggy. The plates in front of you were soon picked at and consumed, the woman across from you with her eyes twinkling made your heart skip in your chest. She was just as beautiful as you remembered. This aching hole being filled by her soft touch. Her hand in yours as you slowly danced to the pianist’s lilting melody. 

“I’ve been without you,” You could hear yourself say, “Longer then I would have ever liked to be.” Her dark brown eyes smiling up at you. 

“I love you, Steven.” You smiled, pressing your lips to her forehead, before resting your head on top of hers,

“I love you too.”

It only made sense that you would have that memory now, sitting here in a little cafe in Brooklyn, sweater sleeves curled over your fingers as you tried to warm them from the cold. Fall was here and it swept through the city quickly, the leaves were almost fully changed you’d noticed on the drive in. A few stragglers still holding their green hue while others have submit to their lifecycle. 

“You could hardly even call this coffee,” Eric joked as he settled into the chair in front of you, “You have a sweet tooth?” He smiled as he took a sip of what looked like black coffee. You smiled back, wrapping your cold fingers around the mug of your milky sweet coffee taking a testing sip. Almost perfect. 

“Not usually,” you admit, “For whatever reason I just really like my coffee being sweet.” You shrug, “It’s how my grandmother always took hers.” He was handsome, just like you remembered. Dimpled cheeks, very white teeth, his smile was infectious and made you warm all over. 

“So, how’ve you been?” He asked, leaning forward, your mugs and hands almost touching. Today was VA day, a week had passed since you’d last seen him and you told Sam and Bucky that you were going to head into the city early to grab coffee with Eric before heading over. 

Sam was quick to give a teasing flirtatious grin, whereas Bucky wasn’t too keen on the idea. “I’ll go with you,” He offered. He was obviously irritated when you’d told him no. 

“I’ve been alright,” You took a sip of your coffee before continuing, “Been taking a break from the testing and everything.” You’d explained you Eric briefly over text about complications that came with heart surgery, but you didn’t tell him what those complications were. 

“It must be strange, huh?” He glanced out the window and then back at you, “Living with heroes like that.” You shrug absentmindedly. 

“They’re just like everyone else,” You laugh, “but they’re really nice people,” Eric nods, “They’re a fun crowd.”

“I bet.” He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. “So you work for the Avengers?” He asked, picking at the muffin he’d bought. It was probably best to lie here, 

“Yeah, I just assist Dr. Banner in his lab,” You lie, “I have no idea what he’s doing half the time, but he likes the company. What about you?” The motor oil around his nail beds, 

“I’m a mechanic now, my Pops had his own shop that I took over after—“ he choked up a bit, “After I blipped back.” You placed your hand gently over his, 

“Hey, it’s okay.” You smiled, “You don’t have to hide that kind of stuff from me.” Rubbing your thumb against his rough hand you continued, “Everyone still hurts from the blip. Everyone.” He nodded, wiping a tear from his eye.

“Thank you.” He sighed heavily, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry and make this awkward—“

“I don’t feel awkward.” You offered, watching a smile break out on his face. “Listen, I’m not sure if I’m ready to date yet either. This was kind of like—“

“Dipping your toe in the water?” He asked, god he was cute. 

“Yes.” You laughed. “So don’t feel pressured about it. Really.” He nodded, beginning again, 

“Anyway, I’m a mechanic.” He laughed nervously clearing his throat, “I live here in Brooklyn, I have my entire life aside from when I was doing my tours.” He’d done two of them. He spends most of his week working under the hood and the rest of it was spent going to the VA, visiting his sick Mother who was now in hospice. He was just a normal guy. 

A handsome, sweet, opened the door for you as you left, normal guy. It was nice. 

He didn’t make a big deal about your heart. The fact that you just had surgery, which was also nice. It seemed to be the only thing people wanted to talk about when they found out you’d had a heart transplant, not having to talk about it and skirt around knowing the name of the donor like you had to with everyone else. 

He’d bought both of you coffee to-go, “The stuff they have down at the VA is kind of trash.” He laughed, the two of you walking to the community center where your cars were parked. It was a Wednesday afternoon, the sun was shining, your sweater becoming a poor choice now that it reached the days highest temp. 

You’d been a block or two away when it happened. 

The fight or flight kicks in before they even made themselves aware, Eric was grabbed before you were, you watched a fist meet his face, blood spattering on the ground as you screamed in alarm. Hands met your arms and Steve took over, twisting around to turn his wrists, smacking your head against his, causing your ears to ring and vision blur momentarily as he fell to the ground unconscious. 

Another man, twice your weight and at least a foot taller than you grabs you roughly, shoving you to the ground, grabbing your foot and dragging you into the alley where Eric was pinned against the wall, punches raining on his gut, “Let her go!” He yelled, trying to break free. 

You kicked your handler in the groin, the large man grunting in pain as he curled over, grabbing himself as you jumped up from your spot on the ground, your hands had gravel embedded in them, beginning to bleed. 

You raise your fists, back against the wall facing the large man as he straightened back up. “Give up kid,” He grunts, “Just come with us.” You ball your fist tightly, turning to swing on him, but your fist fell through the air, the man being ripped away from you, throwing you off balance to fall on the ground. 

Bucky.

And Sam. The two men who were pummeling Eric were soon disbanded, one taking off out of the alley and onto the street, the other unconscious, Sam’s hand fisted in his shirt. You crawled on your knees, over to Eric pushing his chest against the wall, helping him sit upright from where he collapsed on the ground. 

“Bucky!” You yelled. The super soldier had the large man in a headlock, his eyes slowly closing and the hand that beat against his metal arm slowing until it stopped. “Bucky…” You felt your vision begin to blur as you fell backward, head hitting heavily against the concrete.

“Stay down kid.” The greaser spat. You could taste the blood in your mouth, the concrete beneath your hands as you pushed yourself back up, stumbling on your feet. “You’re either a fuckin’ idiot or you just wanna die kid.” He raised his fists back up. 

“I don’t like bullies,” came from your mouth, and you remembered. This guy was being fresh with a girl. In the diner where you were having lunch and sketching. He wouldn’t leave her alone. “Especially not perverts who don’t understand what ‘no’ means.” The guy rolled his eyes at you taking a quick swing that connected with your jaw, tossing you back on the ground. You groaned in pain, trying to get back up. 

There was a scuffle and when you looked up, Bucky was in boxing stance in front of you, landing a right hook on the jaw of the greaser, throwing him back into the wall before the guy took off leaving the two of you with your heavy breathing. 

An asthma attack was coming on. “Alright big guy,” Bucky’s hands met your arms, pulling you off the ground. “Breathe, Stevie.” Bucky matched your breaths with his, pulling a little jar from his pocket. He popped the lid and held it under your face. Peppermint oil. You could feel it, cold down your airways, his soothing breaths matching yours until you were calm. 

“Hey Buck.” His hair was slicked back, he was wearing his work uniform. He must’ve just come from the canary. He rolled his eyes at you before wrapping an arm under your shoulder to help you walk home. 

“You can’t keep doing this Steve.” Dabbing alcohol on your bleeding lip and fists. “One day you’re not gonna get back up.” Throat tight with emotion. You felt guilty. Every time. But you couldn’t help it. You can’t just stand by and do nothing. It just wasn’t who you were. 

“Hey.” His voice was soft against your ear. You shifted in his arms. You were in his arms, turning your head, wincing at the sunlight coming through the car windows you quickly covered your eyes with your arm. 

“Bucky.” You whined, head pounding. 

“I’m here doll.” Fingers moving soothingly against your back. He was whispering to you. You could feel you were in the back seat of the car, it was moving quickly. You felt nauseous. 

“I’m gonna be sick.” You groaned, he shifted you up slowly, sitting you upright in the back seat. 

“You definitely have a concussion.” Your eyes were squeezed shut as you heard him move around. 

“How’s she doing back there?” Sam’s voice came from the front seat. So he was driving. 

“Where’s Eric?” You asked as Bucky pressed his cold hand to the back of your neck. It felt so good. You placed your hand over it to keep it there. 

“We had medical take him back to the compound,” Bucky explained, “Where does it hurt?” 

You opened your palms and he could see the gravel embedded in them, knuckles split and bleeding from the fall. “Just my hands and head.” You couldn’t open your eyes. It hurt.

“We’re almost home,” Sam said from the front, “I’m gonna go check on the perps and see how Eric is doing. Buck, you think you can take care of her?” 

“Yeah, I got her.”

He’d lowered the blinds and threw a bandanna over the lamp next to your bed, creating an easy light for you to manage, finally being able to relax your eyes for the first time in what felt like hours. The chair next to your bed was wordlessly pulled close as he laid out a pair of tweezers, rubbing alcohol and some bandages. A little dish was there to collect the pulled gravel. 

“It’s almost like you’ve done this before,” You joked. Wincing as he pulled the first piece out. He scoffed, continuing on in his work. 

“I didn’t want you to go alone.” His gruff voice replied, “I told you I’d go with you.” You sucked your teeth as he pulled out a particularly large piece. 

“To be fair, you thought Eric was the threat.” He looked at you through his lashes. 

“I still don’t like the guy.”  You hummed in response. “You know this means you can’t leave the compound by yourself anymore?” He gently dabbed your hands with the rubbing alcohol, before spreading a cream on them. 

“What could they possibly want with me?” You asked, “Who even are they?” He, with great care, wrapped your hands. 

“We don’t know,” He admitted, “Could be Hydra,” He shrugged, “Could be something else. We’re going to interview the two guys we captured, so I’m sure we will know pretty soon. Here,” He put two pills in your hand and a glass of water, “Take these and lay down.” He shifted the blankets around, slapping his hand against the pillows as he helped you get comfortable. 

“Don’t leave me.” Your wrapped hand gently gripped his. His other hand lay over yours, 

“I’m gonna be right back sweetheart.” Sleep was coming on quickly, “Get some rest. I’ll be back.” His hand softly slipped from yours and you slipped into sleep. “Sweetheart?” Bucky mumbled to himself. 

Bucky looked at you for a moment longer, lingering, before exiting the room. Face turning into a scowl he quickly took the elevator down, meeting Sam right outside of the interrogation rooms where they had the two perps cuffed in separate rooms, letting them stew. “They didn’t have cyanide capsules, so I don’t believe they’re Hydra.” Sam was staring at the monitors, arms crossed. 

“How’s the guy?” Bucky asked, Sam’s eyes shifted over to his quickly before turning back to the screens.

“He’s got some internal, but he’ll be fine… This isn’t your fault Buck.” Hand coming to rest on his shoulder, Sam turned to him. 

“No,” He growled, “It’s yours.” Shrugging his arm off him, “I wanted to tail them Sam. If you’d let me be there--”

“No.” Sam shook his head, “People still would have gotten hurt or these assholes wouldn’t have come out of the woodwork. Either way, you can’t tail her to go get coffee just because you think that dude is a shady guy for no other reason than your ‘intuition’.” 

“My intuition has never been wrong before,” Bucky leaned in, looking at the monitors. “No one knows she’s got Steve’s heart Sam. Even if they did, they don’t know what it’s doing to her. So what’s going on here. Why do they want her?” 

“I don’t know man.” Sam looked at his friend in concern. “You’re getting better with her.” Bucky nodded, chest tight. 

“I’m trying.” He cleared his throat, looking over at Sam. “I feel guilty.”

“You should.” Sam smirked, “So who's gonna be good cop and who’s gonna be bad cop, cause I was thinkin’ it’s my turn to be bad cop.” Bucky rolled his eyes, dropping his jacket from his shoulders and rolling up his sleeves. 

“If I don’t get to hit at least one of ‘em I’m gonna hit you instead.” 

Wanda sat steadfast next to the sleeping man, fingers itching to do it. To look inside his mind. She had to know. Bucky was clear about how much he didn’t like this guy and she trusted Bucky. She can look, just take a quick peek. It would give her all the information she needed to make a sound decision on whether or not to trust him. 

A red tendril spilled over her palm, crawling down her fingers to slip into his temple. 

It was chaos. 

Screaming, blood. A nightmare. The fear, the anger. The loss. It felt so familiar. Like she’s seen this before, but she doesn’t know where. 

She sat back in her seat heavily, panting. The stress and anguish. Her heart was racing. She found no ill intention, but an immense attraction to you. She found exactly what you’d described. A man who had seen war, who had lost everything, she saw his mind as it was. Nothing to be hidden. So why did she feel so uneasy?

“Lock them up for the night.” Bucky instructed to the two agents standing guard outside the interrogation room. “Make sure they’re at opposite ends of the cells, we’ll be back to deal with them in the morning.” The two young cadets nodded, a ‘yes, sir’ and they were off to their task. 

“We’ll work on them tomorrow,” Sam looked at his watch. “Go check on Y/N, maybe get her to eat something.” Bucky nodded, hands on his hips. 

“Something doesn’t feel right about this.” The pair watched the two criminals be taken to their cells and locked in for the night before leaving, 

“There’s gotta be a leak.” Sam agreed. “I’ll call Clint.” Bucky hummed in agreement before walking away, deep in thought. 

“We should maybe reach out to Peter too.” He said as the two entered the elevator. “Have him keep an ear out when he’s patrolling.” 

You were right where he left you, the dim light giving a soft illumination to the room. He walked over to your side of the bed, brushing the hair out of your face before squatting to your eye level. 

“Hey Y/N,” He spoke softly, gently rousing you from sleep. His advanced eyesight scanned your pupils as your sleepy eyelids parted. 

“Bucky.” You whimpered, head throbbing. 

“I’m right here kid.” What was he doing? Fingers gently massaging your scalp stilled and awkwardly removed themselves. “Here, take these.” He helped you sit up, giving you two more of the tablets you’d taken earlier, following them with the stale water from your bedside. “Are you nauseous?” 

“No.” You croaked, sinking back into the pillows. “I’m sleepy.” Your throat felt thick and palms were itchy. 

“Alright, I’ll be right here okay?” The shuffling of the chair as he sat down heavily. He gave you one last look as you drifted off, 

“Okay.” Mumbled against the sheets. 

He pulled out his phone drafting a text to send to Peter Parker, 

suspicious activity in Brooklyn, focus patrol. all suspicious persons bring to compound. 

With a tap it was sent and he settled down deeply in the chair, fatigue hitting him for the first time in two days. “Peppermint oil.” Mumbled against the sheets, drool forming by your lips. “That’s sweet, the peppermint oil.” He watched you shift around until you were laying on your back, arm tossed over your head, one across your belly. His heart tight in his chest. 

It helped with asthma. The peppermint oil. A ventilation inhaler didn’t exist for another twenty years. Bucky made due. He kept it in his pocket everywhere he went in those days. Just in case. The thought made your heart sing, but it wasn’t your heart. It was Steve’s. 

It made Steve’s heart sing. 

He was sure to wake you up periodically, making you drink water, giving you more medicine, before sinking back into the chair next to your bed. Your own private watchman. If you weren’t hurting so badly you’d be enjoying the company, just because it was Bucky and the attachment Steve had to him, that was then passed down to you, was sated by it. 

The next morning it was as though nothing had happened, when it came to your injuries anyway. Your head was clear, hands had no mark when Bucky went to change your bandages. 

“How are you?” Wanda asked, pulling you into her arms.

“I’m fine,” You smiled, you looked to your right through the glass window where Eric was resting, “How is he?” 

She swallowed heavily, “He’ll survive.” She looked you in your eyes, oddly. “He’s been in and out throughout the night, he’ll need to stay for a few days but should be good to go by Monday.” You worried your lip,

“I owe him an explanation,” You sighed, “I feel terrible.” 

“You couldn’t have known.” Wanda defended, hand soothingly rubbing your arm. “We had no clue that someone was targeting you.” She seemed angry, “Nothing on our radar.” 

“Who is doing this?” You asked, looking up at your friend. She shrugged, 

“I’m going to go join them in the interrogation.” She said, “See if I can find out. Do you need anything?” You shook your head, eyes staring blankly at Eric’s sleeping form. She left. 

The door handle was freezing when you put your hand on it, turning to enter. A chair was set next to the bed, one that you sunk yourself down into. It was quiet in here, the slow melodic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound. 

His jaw was a mix of black and blue, a swollen eye, his right hand was bandaged where he had tried to fight back against his two assailants and failed. Guilt churned in your gut. Maybe you should have let Bucky come with you after all. Maybe you shouldn’t have gone. Then Eric wouldn’t be lying here with a morphine drip 12 hours out of surgery. 

“No self pity on my watch,” A groan from the bed, his split lip coming in a half smile. Your watery eyes met his. 

“I’m so sorry Eric I-”

“Hey,” His fingers twitched, hand moving dismissively, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from--” He groaned, shifting in the bed. You leaned forward, taking the bed’s remote and using it to sit him upright. He winced. 

“It’s not your job to protect me,” You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I’m sorry we were attacked. They were after me. It honestly--” You felt a fat tear roll down your cheek, “It is my fault.” 

The man in the bed studied you for a moment, “Did you tell them where we were?” He asked, “Did you tell them to attack us?” His bruised mouth never faltering in a smile. “You had no control over this.” 

“Still, I’m--”

“I know.” He smacked his dry lips, reaching a hand over for the water cup on his tray. You’d quickly grabbed it, bringing the straw to his lips. “So,” He rested his head back on the pillow, “Are you gonna tell me what’s really going on here?” He gestured vaguely to the tip of the thin pink scar that was peeking out from under your t shirt. 

You owed him an explanation. He’d taken an ass beating for you, it was the least you could do. 

-

A chill went down Bucky’s spine as Wanda told him the name of who was responsible. She knew the name in passing, an issue she’d never had a problem with. Something that happened adjacently to her, but she knew the name enough to know the man was dangerous. 

The trio thought to the couple sitting in the medic ward, Eric recovering from internal bleeding and you, who was still trying to figure out what was going on with your body, your heart. What would he want with you? What did he think he could possibly do with you? And also who was relaying this information to him? 

Sam put on his Captain voice, chest tight, shoulders back. There was tension there, and a lot of it. 

“Call Sharon Carter,” He commanded, “Tell her to come to the compound with all the information she can find on Helmut Zemo.”

Bucky thinks he’s going to be sick. 

.

.

.

taglist //  @nutellakirb​ @witch-of-letters​ @torntaltos​ @emotionallysalty​  @bookish-shristi​ @saturnki​ @jennmurawski13​ @geeksareunique​  @albinotigerpython​ @an-lover

[noladyme]

My Only Sunshine - Chapter 8 FINAL CHAPTER

Liv is as human as they come – faults and all. After a dark experience in her past, she is determined to live life on her own terms, and never let anyone claim her as theirs again. This becomes an issue, when she meets a 1000-yearold vampire, who is dead-set on claiming her as his own.

CHAPTER 7

I had my first shift back at Merlotte’s a few days later; having needed to wind down a bit. I hadn’t called or texted anyone to let them know exactly when I’d be back, so when I arrived at work, my friends rushed over to greet me. I noticed Sam examining my exposed skin for fang-marks , and was happy Eric had helped me rid of them. I couldn’t take a telling off from Sam right now; still too raw from my trip to Dallas. When he was satisfied, I wasn’t hurt, he gave me a warm hug. Sookie was next, and gave me a secret empathetic smile. “I just want to get back to work”, I said. “Back to normal”. “Did something happen to you in Dallas, cher’?”, Sam asked. “You look like you’ve been through it”. “No… nothing like that. Just jet-lagged from vamp-time”, I smiled. He nodded disbelievingly. “Any more… pictures show up here?”. “No. Nothing”, he replied. I sighed in relief. “Good. I’ll just go do, what you pay me to do, now”. I walked off, feeling both his and Sookie’s eyes on my back as I went.

I was happy to be back in flats, as I didn’t have any vamp-blood to heal my blisters. The lack of heels didn’t stop Jason from checking out my ass, as I came over to serve him and his crew their food. “Hey Liv! I hear you’ve been in Dallas. You running away from us permanently?”, he asked. “Nope. I’m in Bon Temps for the long haul”, I smiled. “Good, ‘cuz I’ve been thinking… You and I never did go on that date…”. I patted his cheek. “And we never will, Jason. You’re too much man to handle, big guy”. He leaned back in his seat, and smirked at me flirtatiously. “Nah, I think you can take it”. “Never gonna happen, Stackhouse”, I called over my shoulder, as I walked away.

Just after sundown, Bill showed up. After having kissed Sookie, he took me by surprise, by leaning in to give me a half hug. “I am glad to sae you unharmed”, he said. “We’re you really that worried?”, I asked. “I’ve been fine”. Bill lowered his voice for discretion. “But that phone call. Eric said…”. I felt tears forming in my eyes. “Liv doesn’t want to talk about that, Bill”, Sookie said. “But…”, Bill tried. “Please…”, I croaked. “Sook’, can you take care of my tables for a minute? I need some air…”. Sookie nodded, and patted my back, before I slipped out the back door.

The night was chilly for once; and I felt goosebumps form on my exposed arms and legs. I was feeling ridiculous for crying, but couldn’t help myself. Bill came out to join me. “I am terribly sorry. I didn’t realize I’d cause such pain to you by speaking of…”. “It’s fine, Bill. You couldn’t know”, I said, and accepted the handkerchief he handed me. I took a deep breath, and leaned my back against the wall next to the dumpster; grabbing a cigarette from my fanny pack, and lighting it. “Can I ask you a vampire question?”, I said. “Of course!”, he responded. I chewed my lip nervously. “What does it mean when a vampire wants to make a human theirs?”.

Bill thought for a moment. “Well, when a vampire wants to lay claim to a human, so that no other vampire can; he or she will do so by simply proclaiming it”. “You don’t ask the human?”, I said wonderingly. “Not usually, no”. “But what about what the human wants? What if they don’t want to belong to the vampire?”. Bill shrugged. “After the great reveal, consensual relationships between humans and vampires are much more common… obviously. In Sookie’s and my case, if she wanted to discontinue our relationship…”. He seemed pained at the thought. “Well, I would let her go. But she would still be mine, when it came to other vampires wanting to feed from her, or have… relations with her. I’ve claimed her…”. “Huh…”, I muttered.

“I take it Eric has claimed you…”, Bill said, distaste clear in his voice. “No”, I said. He frowned in confusion. “Why?”. I took a draw from my smoke, and looked at him earnestly. “Because I said no”. Bills jaw literally dropped, and I saw more of the white in his eyes than I ever had before. “And he… accepted that?”. I nodded. “Are you sure we are talking about the same Eric Northman? He is the kind of vampire who takes what he wants”. “Not me… I guess he didn’t want me that bad”, I muttered, and took another draw from my cigarette. I wasn’t sure about the truth of my own words. Eric had asked me, which was apparently out of character for him; but I didn’t dare let myself believe that there was a deeper meaning to his behavior.

Bill seemed unable to come up with a proper reply, and instead decided to pat my shoulder. Suddenly, he froze in place, looking towards the trees. “What’s wrong?”, I asked. “I don’t know…”, he said quietly. “I saw something”. I felt the hair at the back of my neck stand up straight. “What kind of something?”. “I am not sure… It’s probably nothing. No need to worry. Please tell Sookie I will be back to escort her home”. He was gone within a second, only leaving a gush of wind that made the smell of the dumpster hit my nose. I cringed, and went back inside. After relaying Bills words to Sookie, I got back to work.

As late as it was, there were fewer orders for food; as people had turned to alcohol instead. I went back and forth between the bar for a few hours, serving gin & tonics, beers and whiskey sours to the good and less than good people of Bon Temps. After a while, I finally felt able to push my trip to Dallas to the back of my mind; and focus on just being present where I was. Just before last call, Sam came up to me with a tray with two pink drinks. “Watermelon margaritas…”, he shrugged. “Never made one before, but the guy in the corner insisted on it. Wanted you to bring them”.

I spun around, and looked towards the corner booth; where Thomas was seated, smiling at me. My hands began shaking. “Liv? You ok?”, Sam asked. “You know him?”. “He’s… someone I knew back in San Diego”, I breathed. “Do you need me to take care of it?”. I shook my head fervently. I didn’t know why Thomas was here, but whatever his reason was, I didn’t think he remember having attacked me; and I didn’t want to cause a scene. “I got it…”, I said, and took the tray; walking over to the table.

I set down the drinks in front of Thomas. “Nice to see you again”, he said. “Will there be anything else?”, I asked coldly. “Just some company, if you don’t mind…”, Thomas smiled. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m at work”, I replied. “But I got your favorite drink, Liv… And I sent you those pictures, to remind you of the good times we had”. I met his eyes, which were cold and hard. I looked over my shoulder at Sam, who’d returned to serving the patrons at the bar. “Your vampire friend is gone. My vampire friend took care of that. Now sit down, before I have to do something rash”. He lifted his jacket slightly, letting me see the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

My heart beat 1000 miles per second, and I slowly lowered myself to sit across from Thomas. “What do you want?”, I whispered. “I want to talk to you about what happened that night…”, he replied. “You remember”, I said. Thomas nodded. “How?”. “The vampire friend I mentioned… His blood makes me able to do things, you can’t even imagine”. I shook my head, almost in pity of him. “How much is he plying you with?”. “Enough to make it close to impossible to glamour me”, Thomas grinned. “You know how it is. You can’t be glamoured either. That tall vampire saw to that”. “No… that’s different. Thomas, you have an addiction… a sickness!”, I sighed. “You have to know this is crazy!”.

He jolted forwards, and grabbed both my hands over the table; making it look as if we were holding hands, when in reality, he was hurting me. “What’s crazy is you throwing away a perfectly good guy, and letting some vamp feed on you instead”, he hissed. “You were going to rape me”, I whimpered. “You wanted it! You were practically throwing yourself at me for weeks!”. “No, I wasn’t… I said yes to one date, that was it. I was just being friendly…”. He let go of my hands, and sat back again. “You’re such a fucking slut, you know that? You led me on…”. He grabbed the gun from his waistband, cocked the hammer, and moved it under the table. I felt the barrel press at the inside of my knees. “You probably put out to that vampire in Dallas, didn’t you…? How much did he pay you?”. “Don’t do this, please…”, I whimpered.

Sam rang the bell. “That’s it, folks. Drink up!”. Sookie walked towards Thomas and me. “Don’t say anything. I swear I’ll shoot you, and everyone else in this shithole…”, Thomas hissed, and then suddenly smiled brightly at my approaching friend. Once at the table, Sookie looked questioningly at me. “Who’s your friend, Liv?”, she asked. I smiled as brightly as I could at her; willing her to hear my thoughts. “This is Thomas”, I said. Sookie. He’s dangerous. Listen to his thoughts, please!. “We knew each other in San Diego, and reconnected in Dallas”. Sookie’s eyes flickered, and she stuck out her hand to Thomas; who grabbed it with his free left hand. “Hi there, Thomas!”, she smiled. I saw confusion ghost her face, before she looked back at me. “Liv, could you come help us close up? We’re kind of swamped…”. I hoped she was trying to get me away from Thomas. “Actually… I was hoping to take Liv with me, now. You know, catch up…”, he smiled. “I really need to…”, I began. I felt the barrel of his gun bore into my bare skin. “Come on… We didn’t have a chance to really talk in Dallas”, he said, with an edge to his voice.

Sookie looked down towards the tabletop for a nanosecond. “Do you mind doing us a solid here, Sook’?”, I said. Let us go, Sookie. Please let us go. He’ll kill everyone in here. “I’ll do your prep for you tomorrow”. Sookie nodded. “What should I tell Sam?”, she asked. “Just tell him I’m catching up with a friend”, I smiled. I could see Thomas was getting agitated, and sighed deeply. “We should go…”, I said. Eric… I want Eric. Sookie blinked. “I’ll see you tomorrow”, she said. “Uh huh…”, I croaked. “I will!”, she said, and walked away.

After being satisfied Sookie was far enough away, Thomas slipped the gun into the back of his jeans. “We’re going to walk out of here real calm. Don’t even think about trying anything. I got enough V in me to rip you apart in a second”, he hissed through a smile. Once he got up to stand, I followed, and he put his arm around me; holding on to me tightly. I was too afraid to even look at Sookie or Sam, so simply followed where Thomas led me. I prayed that Sookie had understood my thoughts.

Once out of view of the bar Thomas pushed me towards a black chevy of a newer model, and just as I thought he was about to open the door for me to enter; he struck me over the back of my head, and I was out cold.

---

I don’t know how much time had passed when I woke, but it was still dark. I was lying on the backseat of Thomas’ car, which he’d parked down a gravel road somewhere I didn’t recognize immediately. He was leaning against the car, having one of my cigarettes. I tried to crawl for the door on the opposite side of where he was standing, but he noticed me moving, and opened the door; dragging me by the ankle, out of it. I hit the ground outside; the gravel cutting in to my skin.

Thomas fell to his knees next to me. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you just now!”, he smiled, and stroked my cheek. “That’s not how I want this to go”. I raised my hand to the back of my head, and felt a bump there. “You knocked me out”, I rasped. “I just needed you to go with me, without causing trouble”, he said, and raised me into a seated position. “What are you going to do to me?”, I asked. “You know what I’m going to do… You and I are going to finish what we started a year ago”, he said. I felt tears trickling down my cheeks, as I shook my head. “No…”. “Yes”, Thomas said. “You’re mine”. There was no mercy in his voice. I didn’t have anyone to save me this time. I didn’t have Eric. God, I wanted Eric there, to protect me – to hold me. I shook myself from the thought. If I wanted free, I’d have to help myself.

Grabbing a handful of gravel, I flung it at Thomas’ face. He covered his eyes, and cried out; and I managed to get on my feet, and run down the road. With a roar, Thomas got on his feet, and ran after me. “Get back here, you stupid cunt!”, he growled. I turned, and ran away from the road, through the trees; in hopes that I could find somewhere to hide. I was dizzy and heaving for breath, and knew that sheer speed wouldn’t be what got me away from my attacker. Stumbling over some branches, I fell to my knees, and cried out in pain, as a sharp rock cut in to my palm. “Don’t rouse them ‘gaters!”, Thomas yelled after me, with a mock Louisiana drawl. “Don’t want them getting to you before I do”.

I got on my feet again, and got back to running. Soon, I was recognizing the area. I knew I was near the cemetery between Sookies and Bills houses, and headed in the direction I thought might be right to get to the vampire’s house. Once I saw the fence surrounding the cemetery, I almost cried in relief.

I heard a loud pop, and felt a sharp pain in my thigh; before falling to the ground, just at the entrance to the graveyard. Before long Thomas was stood over me, his gun in hand. He’d shot me. “Why do you have to make this so difficult?”, he growled, and kicked me hard in the stomach. I curled up, heaving for breath. “Stop. Please stop…”, I pleaded. Thomas grabbed a hold of my head, and I put my hands around his wrist, so he wouldn’t tear it at the roots. He dragged me into the cemetery, and threw me on the ground in front of an old gravestone. “No…”, I sobbed. “You like fucking dead people so much, I’ll let you die next to them as well”. He pounded his fist into my chest, making all air leave my lungs. “You’re not even worth it, you bitch”. Blow after blow hit my body, as I struggled to get oxygen into my lungs. Every time Thomas’ fist hit me, he followed it with angry slurs and insults. I tried screaming for help, but in the end, the pain was so extreme I couldn’t make a sound anymore. I was beginning to feel cold, and saw that the wound in my leg was bleeding profusely. I was losing a lot of blood, very fast.

I laid on my back, looking up at the stars, as Thomas continuously pounded at me; when I heard a roar, and Eric came out of the darkness – grabbing Thomas by the neck, and tearing him away from me. Thomas was knocked out when his back hit a nearby gravestone, and Eric ran over to me. “Liv…”, he breathed, and put his hand on my bruised cheek. I coughed up some blood, and he turned me gently, to let me spit it out. “Eric?”, I heard Bills voice call out. “She’s here!”, Eric replied. “She’s hurt bad, but I can heal her… I should have come sooner. I’m sorry, Liv”. His eyes were pained, and I tried to reach for his face. “Don’t move. Just let me…”.

He was grabbed from behind, and thrown away from me. Rose had arrived out of nowhere, and was now doing her best to do some damage to Eric, by biting in to his neck. Eric roared in pain, and Bill came running to help Eric. The two male vampires soon had the upper hand in the fight; but apparently, the plan hadn’t been to win the fight – merely to distract them.

I felt myself get lifted from the ground, and was soon looking in to the eyes of Stan. “Stand down, Northman!”, he growled. Eric immediately released the hold he’d had on Rose, and spun around to face Stan. His eyes were wide in rage and what seemed to be fear. “Stan, let her go”, he said. Rose edged away, to go check on Thomas. “I don’t think so”, Stan said. “This gash cost me my sheriff’s position”.

“Your human is alive”, Rose said, from where she was standing over Thomas. “Fuck him. I don’t need him anymore”, Stan said. “You sure? ‘Cuz I could eat”, Rose smirked. “Knock yourself out”, Stan said. Rose was about to lift Thomas, so that she could bite him, when her chest burst open. She turned in to goo within seconds, revealing Godric behind her; still holding on to her heart. Pam was a few paces behind him. “Sorry we’re late”, she smiled. “Godrics plane just landed”.

Godric took a few slow steps towards Stan. “Stay back!”, Stan said; spinning me around, so my back was to his chest. He grabbed my head, and tilted it to the side. I didn’t have the strength to fight him off. “I’ll snap her neck”. “Not before I rip your head off!”, Eric hissed. Stan simply laughed coldly. “Stan. This isn’t the way…”, Godric said. “You will not get back in the good graces of the authority by killing this woman”. “Fuck the authority. Fuck all of you… Kneeling to lesser beings? You should be ashamed!”. “No one is kneeling”, Godric said. Eric, Pam and Bill gave each other a look, and began flanking Stan and I. “We are simply coexisting”.

Stans grip around my chest was so tight, that I began sobbing in pain again. “See that? They’re weak… below us!”, he said. “She was important enough for the magister to want her to stay alive”, Godric said. “And why is that?”, Stan asked. “What is she? She does smell interesting”. He lowered his nose to a cut over my brow. I heard Eric growl, and Stan chuckled in response. “I told you I would have a taste!”. “I’m going to kill you”, Eric roared. Stan knew his time was up. He was outnumbered; and at least two of the vampires present, had hundreds of years on him. “Then I might as well go out a happy vampire”, he said. Stan sunk his fangs into me, and sucked. “Nej!”, I heard Eric cry out in an agonized voice.

Stans bite wasn’t sensual as Erics had been. It was like being torn open, and literally eaten alive. My neck was burning from the bite, and my eyes rolled back in my head in agony. Then suddenly, he dropped my body to the ground. Everything became foggy. I could just make out, as Pam, Bill and Eric attacked Stan. I thought I saw Pam and Bill hold Stan down, as Eric grabbed his head, and tore it clean from his body; before he became the same kind of goo that Rose’s had.

I was hardly breathing – couldn’t even feel any pain anymore – and I knew I was dying. A pair of strong arms cradled me, and I forced myself to focus on Erics face. “I have to heal her”, he said. “It’s too late, Eric… she lost too much blood”, Bill said with a pained voice. “I’m so sorry, Liv…”. Eric met my eyes, looking like he’d never be happy again. “Stay with me”, he breathed, and pressed his lips to mine. “Snälla Liv… mit solsken…”. I wanted nothing but to embrace him. Make him smile again. “Y-yours…”, I rasped. “Yours…”. A bloody tear escaped Erics eye, and a pained smile forced itself to his lips. “Mine…”, he whispered, and stroked my temple; when his expression became determined.

Pam came over, and put a hand on his shoulder. “The sun will be up soon”, she said. “We have to go”. Eric looked at her with hard eyes. “Dig a hole”, he said. “Eric…”, Bill said warily. “Are you sure…?”. “I said, dig a fucking hole!”. Bill and Pam disappeared from sight, and Godric put a hand on the top of Erics head. Their eyes locked for a second, before Godric disappeared in the direction the others had went.

My breathing had become a rattling, and Eric pulled me impossibly closer to him. “No… not yet. You have to drink”. Extracting his fangs, he bit in to his wrist, and put it to my lips. I didn’t have the strength to suck; so simply looked into Erics eyes, as his blood flowed into my mouth, and down my throat. Before long, the wounds closed, and Eric bit into his skin again; repeating the process.

I used my last ounce of energy to lift the corners of my lips into a soft smile; losing myself in Erics blue eyes, before everything went black.

“Min Liv… mit liv”.

---

I couldn’t move. I was held down by some unknown force, and everything was blackness. My face was pressed against something both firm and soft, leaving very little room for me to breathe; which I realized was futile anyway, as there wasn’t any air to be had. Someone was holding on to me firmly but gently, and I knew the embrace. I’d been in it before.

With the tiny bit of air in my lungs still there, I tried to speak. “Eric…”. It came out as a peep; but must have woken him, because I felt him move. Panic began to take me over, and I tried to move myself. I needed air, soon. Eric used all his strength to break through what was holding us down – dirt, I realized. We’d been buried. Just as I was about to pass out from the lack of oxygen, Eric grabbed my wrists and pulled me out of the ground after him.

I took a deep heaving breath, and then coughed. Eric was wiping the dirt out of my face, so I could meet his eyes. “Liv…”, he breathed. He was dirty, just like me; but it didn’t take away from his beauty. The dim light of the moon, made him almost shimmer over me. Eric held me against him, and stroked my cheek smilingly for a few seconds – kissing my forehead – before a confused expression took over. He began running his palm over my exposed skin, his cool hand in sharp contrast to my warmth, as he seemingly examined me. “What happened?”, I croaked. Suddenly Pam was next to us, almost looking happy to see me; before she also frowned – her eyes wary. “Where’s Godric?”, Eric demanded. “In the house”, Pam said. Eric got on his feet, and picked me up in his arms. Without speaking, he carried me out of the graveyard, and towards Bills large house. “Eric, what’s happening?”, I asked quietly. He didn’t respond, but simply carried me over the threshold as Pam opened the door; and in to the living room.

Sookie, Bill and Godric were seated there, and all got up to stand, when Eric entered the room with me. Bill parted his lips and widened his eyes when he saw me; whereas Godric looked like he was looking at something completely normal. “Liv!”, Sookie cried out, and ran towards Eric to greet me. Bill grabbed her arm and held her back. “Careful…”, he said.

Eric set me down on the couch, and put a hand to my chest, seemingly feeling my heart beat. “Why is she alive?”, he asked. Memories from the night before came back to me, and I drew a deep, ragged breath, when I realized what Eric had tried to do. “Because she can’t be turned”, Godric said. “You cannot make her vampire”. “But she was dead…”, Eric began. “I’m here, you know. Please stop talking about me like I’m not!”, I said. Godric smiled warmly at me. “You most certainly are here”, he said. Pam stifled a grin, and I turned my face to look at Eric. He sat down next to me, and looked at me like I was the strangest creature he’d ever met. “You tried to turn me…”, I said. “So, why am I still human?”. Eric looked bewildered. “I… don’t know”, he admitted. “You were dead. I heard your heart stop”. I looked down at my chest, as if I could see the heart in question. Eric turned to look at Godric. “Vad är hon?”.

Godric sat back down, and looked across the faces of the room. “Liv is something no one else in this room, maybe in the world is. Human”. I opened and closed my mouth a few times, trying to find the words to respond to that. “That makes no sense at all”, I finally said. “There are humans everywhere. Are you telling me I’m some kind of weird subspecies?”. “Quite the opposite”, Godric smiled. “You are as human as it is possible to be. Your blood is like human blood was, before they dabbled in magic; and before they interbred with fae-folk and shifters. When they were purely human”. “But vampire blood heals me, just like everyone else”, I said. “The healing components of our blood is merely biology…”, Godric said. “Glamouring; bloodbonds; the visions, strength, and pleasures having our blood can give; and becoming one of us… That’s magic”. “And I am completely magic-less. Magic-resistant, even”, I muttered. Godric nodded. “That’s kind of… sad”, I said. “I think it’s remarkable”.

Bill cleared his throat. “With all due respect, Godric. That does not explain why Liv is alive”. He was still holding Sookie back from coming over to greet me; seemingly worried I’d suddenly sprout fangs, and give in to bloodlust. “As Eric said, she was dead. I also heard her heart stop”. “Erics blood is ancient; and he comes from a strong bloodline, both on his human and vampire side”, Godric said matter-of-factly. “He cannot turn Liv, but he was able to bring her back from death”. Eric smirked smugly; feeling very happy about himself, obviously. I couldn’t help but smile a little at him. “How?”, Bill asked. “I cannot say for sure”, Godric said. “But I suspect that the humanity in Liv fought back against being turned vampire; and as the magic could not take hold in her, she simply rose as a human again”. “That still sounds kind of magical”, Pam said. “Maybe… Or maybe it was just the very strong curative properties in Erics blood that healed and jolted her back to life”. “What if she died again? Could Eric just bring her back human?”, Sookie asked. “Let’s not test that theory. Being buried alive was not fun”, I said, shuddering.

Eric smiled at me, and picked a stray clump of dirt out of my hair. When he saw Bills smirking reaction to his caring gesture, he drew his lips back in a sneer. “Mine!”, he growled. I’d said that, before I died. I had given myself to Eric, and there wasn’t a chance in hell, he was letting go now. Godric smiled affectionately at his child.

My throat was dry, I was tired, and I wanted to wash myself off from dirt and grit. “I want to go home…”, I breathed. Eric nodded. “Pam, fetch the car, so we can go back to Shreveport”, he ordered. “Thank fuck. I’m not spending another day in Bills smelly cubby", Pam said. Grabbing a hold of Erics wrist, before he could whisk me away, I shook my head. “No… I want to go home, to my house”, I said. Eric recoiled at my words. “You said…”. “I’m still my own, even if I did say yes”, I said quietly. “Please, take me home…”. After a moment, he gave me a stoic nod; before looking at Godric, who had gotten on his feet again. “I’ll not leave before we have a chance to say farewell”, Godric smiled. “Pamela can entertain me with tales of your debauchery, in the meanwhile”.

I got on my feet, and took three long strides towards the ancient vampire; wrapping my arms around him. He froze in place, completely taken of guard. “Thank you for everything, Godric”, I said, and kissed his cheek. As I stepped back, he held his fingertips to where my lips had left their mark. Eric, Pam and Bill all stood mouths agape and wide-eyed at my gesture. For a moment, Godric almost looked like a human, just a young man in his late teens; almost blushing. He must have had some of Bills TruBlood. “I’ve not been embraced like that in more than 2000 years”, he smiled. “Thank you”. It was my turn to blush.

Eric put a gentle hand on my shoulder, and after a final smile towards Godric, I let him lead me towards the front door. Sookie ran after us, Bill not holding her back this time; and I let my friend hug me warmly. “You heard me…”, I smiled. “Not clearly”, she said, as she stepped back. “But I knew something was wrong, and when I took that guys hand, his mind was screaming about what he had planned”. She swallowed hard, and I saw her eyes well up. I squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Sookie…”. She wiped her eyes, and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work, right?”, “I’ll consider letting her go”, Eric said. I rolled my eyes at him. “See you then”, I smiled at Sookie, and walked out the door; Erics hand on my lower back. We walked down the steps of the porch, when Sookie called after me again. “Liv? I did hear one of your thoughts clearly…”. I looked back at her. “What was that?”. She smiled warmly, before looking at Eric, and back at me again. “Why do you think I called him?”, she said. “You take care of her, Eric Northman!”. Eric gave her a curtly nod, and she went back into the house.

Once standing in the driveway, I sighed heavily. “Shit. My car is still at Merlotte’s”, I frowned. Eric brushed his thumb against my jaw. “Come here”, he said quietly; and whisked me into his arms. Before I knew what had happened, we’d lifted off. Looking down at the disappearing ground, I let out a terrified squeal. “Eric! We’re flying”, I said, and clamped my arms around his neck. “I know”, he said. “Why are we flying?”. “Because it’s faster than walking”. He sounded amused at my frightened whimpers, but when he looked at my face, his eyes softened. “I’ve got you, Liv. I’m not letting go”. He brushed his lips to my forehead. My eyes widened, as I saw we were heading towards a group of tall trees. “Eyes on the road…! Or in the air… whatever”. Eric chuckled, and I hid my face in his chest, as we narrowly escaped hitting some branches.

I didn’t open my eyes for the rest of the flight.

---

I felt firm ground under my feet, as Eric set me down on the ground gently. Opening my eyes, I saw that we were stood in front of my small house. “Thank you”, I whispered. “You’re welcome”, Eric replied. “I still don’t understand why you insisted on coming here. You’ll be much more comfortable at my house”. “You have a house?”, I asked, as I grabbed my hide-a-key from under a stone near the mailbox. My key-ring was still in my car, back at Merlotte’s. “You thought I slept at Fangtasia every day?”. He sounded amused again. “I have a house… A few actually. The one in Shreveport isn’t the largest, but it has room for you”. I unlocked my door, and shook my head smilingly. “What…? You’ll make Pam give me one of her shoe-rooms?”, I joked, and turned to face him in the doorway. “Not that she needs both of them; but that won’t be necessary. There’s a spare bedroom, if you want your own… for when you insist on sleeping”. There was a frisky tone to his voice.

Still trying to wrap my head around the need for a room specifically for shoes, I went into the house. Eric followed me inside, and brushed his hand over my bottom. “Dirt”, he smirked, when I gave him a chiding look. “Pack whatever you need, and come with me”. “I can’t do that”, I said. “But I’ll take care of you. You won’t have to live in this… house”. It was clear to me, that Eric would have rather used a word like shack or even sewer. “You don’t have to work for Sam Merlotte and Bill Compton”. “I’ll just be your live-in fangbanger?”, I said. “Liv, no… I…”, Eric began. “I like working, and making my own money. I like Bon Temps”.

I unfastened the dirty fannypack from my waist, and dropped it on the coffee-table, next to the check and note which were still laying there. “If you like making your own money, why haven’t you cashed this?”, Eric asked, and picked up the check. “It didn’t feel right”, I muttered. “I didn’t really do any of the work you hired me to do. Unless you count the sex and the blood; but that wasn’t part of the original deal. Even if you did say…”. Eric looked down at the check, apparently not wanting to meet my eyes. “That’s not what this was for. And you did do your job”. He reached out the check to me. “Please take it”. I took the piece of paper, and put it in the drawer of the dresser my small tv was stood on.

I picked at some of the dirt under my fingernails, from our burial. “You’re fidgeting”, Eric said quietly. “I do that”, I said. “Does it still bug you?”. “No… It never did”, he replied. He took my hand, and merged his fingers with mine. “I hurt you… But you have to know, I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t bring you to Dallas to get you in bed… I hoped for it, but I didn’t expect it”. “I know”, I muttered, and looked through my lashes at him. He seemed vulnerable; a strange contrast to his usual suave demeanor. I brushed my lips against his knuckles. “And it’s not like I didn’t want it to happen also. I wanted you… want you”. “You have me… And you said you were mine”. “I did. And I meant it. But I’m still…”. “Your own as well”, he smiled softly. “I understand”. “Do you?”, I smirked. “No…”, he admitted. “But I know that if I want you as you are, with everything you are, I’ll have to accept it…”.

“When Thomas had me, all I wanted was to see you…”, I said. Anger ghosted Erics face. “You will never have to see him again!”, he declared. “What happened to him?”, I asked. He shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about that”. I frowned at him. “What did you do to him?”. Eric gave me a reluctant look. “I can’t spend the rest of my life not knowing, whether he’ll pop up in my life again. I won’t feel safe…”. “He won’t”, he said, and put his free hand on my cheek. “Is he dead?”, I asked in a whisper. Eric shook his head with a sour expression. “Godric wouldn’t let me kill him… But when he hit that gravestone, he broke his back. He won’t be walking again”. I gasped, and shuddered. “He broke his back? Really?”. His sour expression turned a bit more content. “Well, Pam might have broken it in a few more places, before she dropped him off at the hospital… He can’t get you again; and he doesn’t have Stans protection anymore, so he won’t talk”.

I sighed, and leaned forwards; letting Eric embrace me. He buried his large hand in my hair, and held me tightly but gently with his other arm. After a while, he moved his hand from my hair to my chin, to tilt my head backwards; and in a fluid movement melded his lips with mine. “You taste like… graveyard dirt”, I said against his lips. “Come on…”.

Taking his hand, I led Eric into my small bathroom. I began removing my clothes, and dirt and grime scattered over the floor from them. Eric pulled of his leather jacket and top, before unlatching my bra for me. I smiled over my shoulder at him, and pulled it down my arms. While I pulled down my panties, Eric removed his pants and underwear; and followed me in to the small shower cubicle. I turned on the water as warm as I could handle, and began rubbing the dirt from my arms. I felt Erics hands stroking my back as he stood behind me, and smelled my apple scented bodywash, as he lathered it across my skin.

Tilting my head back, to get the dirt out of my hair, Eric leaned over my shoulder, and kissed my exposed throat. “I’m happy you’re still human. I prefer you warm and alive”, he breathed. His hands travelled to cup my breasts, and my nipples perked at his fingers’ ministrations of them. “Then why did you try to turn me?”, I asked. “Because I would rather have the ghost of who you were, than losing you completely”. He spun me around to face him, and hunched down to meet my eyes. “Are you angry that I did?”. I put some bodywash in my hands, and began washing his chest. “No… If I was about to lose you, and there was a way to keep even part of you with me, I would”. I looked down to avoid his gaze. Eric put a hand on my cheek. “I’m not going anywhere”. His voice made me feel warm all over. “You make it sound like you’re mine, like I’m yours”, I whispered. I got no response, and the warmth I’d felt a second ago, was switched out with fear. Fear of rejection; fear that Eric didn’t actually feel about me like I did about him. I hesitantly met his eyes, and saw that he was smiling warmly at me. “Are you?”. It came out almost as a peep. “Yes”. There was no reluctance in Erics response; and before I had a chance to react to it, his lips were on mine.

The cascading water washed over us, as our mouths and tongues explored each other. Eric held on to me, as I rose to my toes, to wrap my arms around his shoulders. My feet were slipping, but I was never worried about falling. I was safe in Erics arms; and it seemed like he felt he was safe in mine. When his hardness stroked against my belly, he let out a soft moan. I looked down, and wrapped my hand around him; gently stroking him up and down. One of Erics hands went down to my bottom, sliding between my cheeks; his long fingers finding my folds. Tightening my grasp on his cock, Erics moans became louder, and turned in to grunts of pleasure. He was stroking his fingers back and forth between my folds, but soon had to focus his attention on remaining standing; and put his hands against the wall instead. With one arm around his shoulders, I held myself standing on my toes, and plunged my tongue into Erics mouth; muffling his sounds as I pleasured him. I wanted to use both my hands on my lover, so got down on my soles again, and took a hold of his testicles. They immediately tightened in my cradling hand. “Liv… I’ll…”, Eric groaned. “I know. But I’m pretty sure you can go more than once”, I said, and dove in to rake my teeth over his nipple. Eric growled, and grabbed the back of my head, hungrily devouring my mouth in a kiss. While I massaged his balls, Eric began thrusting in to my hand. “Come on…”, I breathed and tightened my hold on his cock. “Min…”, he croaked, and thrusted harder. I stared deep into his eyes. “Yours”, I said; and at my words, Eric came with a roar.

I gently washed both our bellies from Erics juices, while he looked on with bemused eyes. His hand stroked against my hip, as I stepped out of the shower after having turned off the water. Snaking an arm around my waist, he bent down to give me a slight kiss; before a wicked expression came across his face. Before I knew it, I was across the hall, on my bed. Standing over me was a 6’4 blonde Viking-prince; who looked like he’d just stepped out of the ocean. I let out a noise, that sounded like something in between a giggle and a moan, as he stood there in all his glory. “You’re kind of magnificent…”, I said. “Yes”, Eric agreed, smug as ever. He knelt down on the bed, and crawled over me; kissing his way up my torso, until he reached my lips. “And you are… glänsande”. “I don’t know what that means, but I’ll… Oh, fuck!”.

Eric had plunged two fingers into me, and was thrusting them upwards; pressing against my g-spot. With a suckle of my lower lip, Eric took his leave from my mouth, and ducked down, to suck my clit into his mouth. Flicking his tongue over my pebble, it only took him minutes to have me unfurl. My legs were shaking, and I was whimpering in extasy. I arched my back, and came.

It took me a few moments to come down to earth; moments which Eric used to kiss his way up my convulsing body, while tracing the curves of my hips, belly and breasts with his fingertips. He was sporting a self-satisfied smile. “What are you so smug about, sheriff Northman?”, I chuckled. “You’ve had 1000 years to perfect that. Making me come is a walk in the park for you; not a battle you’ve won”. “I’ve won many battles. Making you scream out in pleasure is the one I’m most proud of”, he smirked. “I wasn’t screaming…”, I said, and stroked my fingers over his shoulders, and down his back. Eric pushed my legs further apart, and placed himself between them. “I’ll have to return to the battleground, then”, he said, and pushed into me.

We found our rhythm immediately, rolling our hips against each other. When I took a hold of Erics now beautifully tousled hair and pulled at it, he growled; and thrusted harder in to me. I sucked and nibbled at his neck, and when he threw his head back in pleasure, I kissed his adam’s apple; feeling it bob up and down under my lips, as he swallowed to wet his mouth. “Bite me…”, I breathed. “No… You lost too much blood last night”, he said. I frowned in disappointment. “Don’t worry, you’re still going to scream”, he smiled.

Leaning down to suck my nipple into his mouth, Eric then grabbed my thighs, and got up on his knees. As my butt was resting on his thighs, and my back was still on the mattress; my hips where tilted in just the right angle to feel every inch of his hardness moving in and out of me. Eric began moving with ferocious thrusts, hitting my front wall perfectly. He held on firmly to my hips, and looked down at himself disappearing and reappearing from my warmth; clearly enjoying the view, from the look of his face. I grabbed on to Erics wrists to ground myself, and not suddenly fly off the bed, both metaphorically and literally. Sounds of groans; moans; and skin slamming against skin, from Erics hips hitting my backside, filled the room – sounds that were almost hypnotizing to me, and drew me closer to my undoing.

I squeezed my eyes together to keep my composure from Erics delicious assault on me; trying to keep some kind of control of myself. “No, look at me”, Eric demanded. “Let it happen. Just let go, sunshine”. I opened my eyes, and looked up at him; and as he pulled almost all the way out, and slammed back in to me, Eric got exactly what he’d aimed for. I screamed out my orgasm. Eric was laughing warmly, and moved backwards on his knees; pulling out of me as he did. He leaned down, and kissed me passionately. “Another battle won”, he smiled. “Uh huh…”, I croaked; still panting.

I was still laying with my legs spread. My thighs were quivering, and I grabbed on to the sheets below, feeling aftershocks go through my core. Eric looked down at my clenching warmth, and stroked a hand up the inside of my leg. His index finger went in between my folds, making me jolt from overstimulation; and then down over my taint, before stopping at the tight ring of muscle at the bottom of it. “You know, I’d really like to…”, Eric began. I crawled backwards on the bed, and held up a finger to stop him. “Nope... no. I don’t think I’m quite there yet”, I said. “Believe me, it can be quite pleasurable”, he said matter-of-factly; and traced the puffy skin there. “Yeah, I’m sure you love it… But I haven’t tried it before”.

Eric removed his finger, and took my hand to pull me up to sit; giving me an earnest look. “I would never want hurt you. Not in any way that you wouldn’t want me to, at least. You seem to like it when I get a little rough”, he said smilingly, and stroked my cheek. “If you don’t want that, I won’t do it. I want you to trust me”. “I do…”, I said quietly. “And I do want to… yield to you”. I bit my lip, and blushed. Eric searched my eyes for something undefinable. “Turn around. All fours”, he said. A shiver ran down my spine. “Eric…”, I croaked. He raised his brows at me, and smiled calmingly. “I haven’t finished yet. I want to do that inside you”, he said. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. You can ask me to stop at any time. Please trust me”.

I turned around, and got on all fours in front of Eric. He stroked my cheeks, before grabbing himself, to stroke against my folds for a few moments. When he entered me, I let out a pleased sigh. He felt so good from any angle; and I’d always enjoyed a good doggy-fuck. Erics movements were softer than they’d been before, and he was careful not to thrust too hard. One of his hands travelled down in front of me, stroking circles on my clit, while the other massaged my butt. As I was losing myself in sexual bliss, and fire began building inside me again, Eric moved his hand from my cheeks; and he let his thumb travel down between them. He found my ring again, and stroked it as he did my clit. The sensation was heaven. It wasn’t that no one had ever pleasured me by stroking that spot before; but the way Eric was doing it was simply masterful. He began pushing at my hole, never entering me, but still making my muscle work. It spread a tingle across my lower back, to go with the one streaming from my clit. Topping that of, was his hardness excavating me deliciously. It was so wrong that it was right.

“Fuck it… Do it!”, I rasped, earning a soft chuckle from Eric; before he pushed his thumb into my anus. I whimpered in pleasure, and fell down to my chest, unable to hold myself up. Eric fucked me with both his cock and his finger, and stroked my bundle of nerves; and the sensation of fullness inside me, made me begin to clench around him. I had tears in my eyes, and moved my butt back and forth to meet his thrusts. “So warm and tight. You feel so good”, Eric groaned. “Take me with you…”. Heat exploded from my core, and I pulled Eric along with me into extasy. I heard him cry out behind me, and spill himself inside my clenching heat. Gently pulling both his penis and his finger out of me, Eric lowered my hips to the bed. I was a whimpering mess, when he pulled me in to his arms. “You did so good, my sunshine… so good”, he breathed against my lips, as he kissed me.

I laid cradled against his body, our legs tangled and arms holding on to each other. “Eric…?”, I whispered. “Uh hmm…?”, he said, his eyes closed, and a pleased smile on his handsome face. “I’m hungry… I haven’t eaten since before I died”. He turned his head and looked at me. “I was going to let that photographer be your first meal”, he said. “Thanks… I guess”, I chuckled. “But I need human food”. He raised his brows and sighed. “Well, there’s been a cat wailing at your back door for the last 30 minutes. I could throw it in the microwave for you”.

I sat up abruptly. “Shit! It’s Thursday!”. I flew out of bed, and quickly put on a clean tank top, and a pair of pajama-shorts. Eric stared at me in confusion, as I ran out of the room. I grabbed a bowl, and a can of tuna; and went out the back door, to greet Mr. Whiskers. “I’m so sorry, honey! I completely forgot about you…”, I sighed, as the large tabby stroked himself against my legs. I set down the bowl of tuna at the bottom of the steps, and scratched the cat behind its ears.

Eric came outside to join me, once again dressed in his dirty clothes. He looked on as Mr. Whiskers bumped his forehead against my hand. “I don’t like that thing…”, he said, and stared at the cat with cold eyes. “Are you jealous of the cat now?”, I laughed. Eric sneered some Swedish curse word, and Mr. Whiskers hissed at him. “Oh, really? I’ll tell her you said that…”, Eric growled. “Eric, be nice to my honey!”. The vampire took my hand, pulling it away from the cat, and raised me to my feet. He tucked me in to his side. “Mine!”, he growled. “Don’t you have some beers to serve?”. I was completely confused, but decided to let it go.

Eric turned his face to me, and kissed me almost possessively. “I have to go see Godric”, he said. “Come to Fangtasia tomorrow”. “I have to go to work”, I said. Mr. Whiskers meowed. “Shut up!”, Eric snarled at it. “After work… I want to see you”. I tugged at his jacket. “I’ll be there. But I’m not waiting in line”. Eric pulled me in for another kiss. “Mine…”, he breathed. “Mine…”, I smiled.

Eric stepped away from me, and looked down at Mr. Whiskers with distaste again. The cat hissed one more time, and Eric hissed right back at it, before taking flight. I scratched Mr. Whiskers behind the ears a final time, and picked up the empty bowl; before going back inside – my heart full, but stomach less so.

I fell asleep while eating mac’n’cheese, and reading dirty texts from my favorite Viking-prince-vampire.

THE END.

[ask-flip-frost]

Day 7: Gruesome

Nobody wanted the Winchester route. That much was a fact. When Flip had been setting up the schedules for the upcoming week, she knew that it was impossible not to put it on task, though. She was going to have to suck it up. Silt was getting too old to handle the energy output it would take, and Slope wasn't much use in their case because he was already partially Turned as it was. No chance at trusting a job like this to the temps. No matter how much the Sprite hemmed and hawed over the ramifications of letting them stew a little longer, it would always be difficult to steel herself for what it took to do a brain clearing of that magnitude. No sense in putting it off. For most Humans, even particularly disturbed ones, a Nightmare cleansing was no big thing to fuss over. Repeated dippings into billions of minds left an effect like a trickling water torture over time, but delving into the brains of creatures who held residence in Hell for extended periods was akin to being waterboarded with liquid rage and despair. Sam and Dean Winchester were buckets. They had need to be emptied periodically or they'd go mad and take a huge chunk of the world with them.

No avoiding it. With a resigned chirp, Flip closed her twinkling work ledger and opened a Portal for that evening's route to begin.

~

Dean Winchester snorted loudly, jolted from the deepest sleep he'd managed to curl up to in months by a light too bright to ignore. His personal quarters in the bunker had been flooded in the halo effect of an artificial bulb on his bedside table.

"Dammit, Sammy!" the man groused into his pillow. "I'm not goin' on a stupid jog. I told you. Go away."

"Did you know that butterflies can taste with their feet?" a very NOT Sam voice asked conversationally. "I thought that very odd, but THEN I found out that Humans can do it, too! Not with everything, but garlic can be rubbed on your foot, and because of the allicin in it, it gets into your bloodstream from the oil and water properties it has. Travels all the way to your mouth and nose. Incredible, ne?"

An annoyed glance was fired over Dean's shoulder at the Fairy on his nightstand, but the effect seemed lost on her. He'd met her very briefly before on sparse occasions, but someone who was barely an acquaintance had no business being in the Men of Letters bunker. No matter who she was bumping wings with.

"But that's not what we're here to talk about. Nay. Today, kids, we're talking about our FEELINGS, and how repressing can-"

"I'm fine, twinkle toes. Now get outta my room." Dean cut her off and scrubbed his palms over his tired eyes before reaching out blindly for the light switch. "Go peddle your emotional wack-a-doo shtick on someone else."

"Fine? That's a very abstract interpretation of what you are, I assure you. And I'm not in your room. You're in mine." Flip corrected, arms akimbo as she rocked on her heels knowingly.

"The hell are you talking about? My bed. My lamp. My-"

"Window?" Flip interrupted, gesturing to a medium box window with purple blackout curtains.

There were no windows in his real bedroom. A moment of slow growing denial passed before Dean rolled up off the bed, pillow gun at the ready, and jerked the curtains wide.

Outside was a sulfurus landscape, parched and cracked with forlorn wishes of moisture. Great hairless beasts with gouged sockets snuffled the dust, blood and pus oozing from their disfigured maws. A symphony of screams echoed in the distance. Dean knew those screams. He'd lived them. He'd given and received them. They must have been on an outer rim of a torture circle, as you could not directly witness the seas of agony. A clap of deepest thunder triggered a jerking sense memory lurching in the recesses of his chest. Meat hooks and chains, whips and knives and whimpering taunts and burning and-

"Dean... close the curtains."

Brought back to the moment, Dean's white knuckle grip on the curtain fabric loosened. He tugged the window dressings shut, but didn't dare turn away, lest the horrid creatures crash in to take him by surprise. He was back. Had he died in his sleep? Was it that apnea thing he kept hearing about? Sam complained about him snoring sometimes, so... maybe? He didn't remember getting hurt or sick. What was going to happen when Sam found his body?

"You're not dead. Not today. You can come away from there, I promise they can't get in." Flip waved him closer. "We don't have a lot of time to talk, but it's important that we do."

Never one to take things at face value, the eldest Winchester kept his eyes locked on the window.

"Where am I?" he demanded.

"Right now, you and I are in a pretty little safe space in your dirty little mind."

"...I'm asleep. And you're brain-invading." Dean worked it out and lowered his gun. "Not cool."

"You're sleeping, I'm working. Usually I don't make myself known because it's a pain in my glittering ass to make a prolonged stop in anyone's mind, but yours takes some time to clear out anyway, so why not have a chat?" Flip shrugged. "A captive audience. All that."

Dean groaned and tucked his gun away. Why couldn't he even dream without being nagged? Too many people knew how to push into his thoughts, and it pissed him off to a special degree that he couldn't even have autonomy of his own brain to keep them out. Was he going to have to keep getting warding tatoos or bone carvings until his entire body was a graffiti wall just for a little time to himself?

"Fine. What do you want?"

Flip blinked. It wasn't obvious, she supposed. One little talon pointed to the window.

"Do you know what that is?" she returned a question with a question.

"Hell. A memory of Hell that I'm dreaming about, I dunno." Dean crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at the ceiling in annoyance. "You wanted to see what Hell looks like, is that it? That's why you're here?"

"I've seen it. I don't need to look at a memory for a reminder. So no. That," she pointed again. "Is trauma manifesting as a bad memory. Nightmares Creatures feed on good Dreams, and are drawn to people with an excess of Gloom. Gloom is a residue that can't be seen by the Human eye, and it's my job to scrub it out of people periodically. So what I want is for you to produce less of it. You have Hell roots in your brain. We've been trying for years to dig them out, but we can't. If we pull any deeper, you'll die. Best we can do is starve them by emptying your wells of upset from time to time and dry them out a little."

"Yeah, well. You do what I do for a living, you can't help but pick up the flavors of the road. You can't expect me to quit my job just because it complicates your job." Dean gave her a patronizing smirk, which was returned with an exasperated trill. "We done here?"

"I'm not asking you to quit your job, twat waffle. I'm asking you to work on your feelings. Your job shows you Bad Things, but your repressive nature is making it harder on you than it has to be, which in turn is making it harder on us." Flip retorted. "Me, and my coworkers when they have you on rotation. You're difficult."

"Cry me a river. It's not like I've got easy work, either."

"Of course not. Because the way you go about it is to work with one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel." Flip deadpanned. "Why are you so against getting better?"

"Hey, I'm not against the whole feeling better thing, alright? It just doesn't happen. Think I want to be mad all the time?" Dean snapped. "Think I don't know it's screwing things up? Hurting people? I've got a lot riding on how I handle things and everybody I care about is still getting the raw end of the deal no matter what I do! It's not as easy as 'cheer up', okay? I can't."

Flip watched Dean pace around the room like a caged tiger, silently daring her to say anything to to contrary. Instead, she sat down on the nightstand and swung her little feet back and forth idly over the edge, just waiting. For what, he had no freaking clue.

"And it's-" he gestured around the room at nothing. "It's everything. It's getting caught at a red light. It's finding out Sammy made a decision without me. Realizing I went over 3,000 without getting an oil change. It's things that bug the living hell outta me, and I know they shouldn't, and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. Everything blows up."

"Trauma." Flip repeated.

"Yeah, I get it. You said that." Dean huffed.

"Your mind is used to constantly being in danger, being scared that people you care about will be tortured and killed. It's wired that way now, so that even little amounts of stress feel like huge threats, ne~" Flip pointed to the bed and waited for Dean to sit. "You block people out because you don't want to burden them, and then feel betrayed when they do the same. You're going straight to anger because it's familiar. Easier than being vulnerable and risking someone making fun or pitying you."

The man just glared. He hated accusations like this. Especially if they were right and stung his sense of pride.

"Easy for you to say, Tinkerbell. What do you have to lose? I have... I've got almost nobody. Wh- Are you smiling?"

"This is good, keep going." Flip flapped a hand.

"This funny to you?" Dean frowned.

"No. On the outside I'm pulling out a lot of grime from your brain, and you venting in here is loosening some of it. It's a good thing. Look out the window." she shook her head.

Dean grimaced uncertainly, but crossed to open the curtains just enough for a peek. The creatures were splintering apart, carried away on the wind like so many dust particles. The landscape had sparse patches of grass and the sky had begun to clear enough to bring shafts of light through, dancing with sun motes.

"You should talk. To your brother. To your friends. You might be surprised how much it helps."

"It's not gonna change anything." Dean replied, his voice far more hoarse than he expected it to be.

"If you do nothing, nothing changes. If you try trusting people not to throw you under a bus... it just might." Flip offered gently. "You're good at being angry. Try getting good at other emotions. It's an uphill walk, but you know there are at least a few people who want you to feel okay. Let them help you. Stop acting like you don't deserve it, and maybe one day you'll feel that you do."

He didn't, though. He didn't deserve to feel better. Not to his mind, anyway. He stared out the window and watched the outside world changing for the better in ways he knew he never could. Time kept marching, and he kept drinking and internalizing. He'd do it until the day he died. A forever death. Not a Winchester death.

"You're crying."

"What? Bullshit." Dean scoffed.

"Not in here. Outside." Flip amended.

"How do you know?"

"It's my job. I can't stay in your mind much longer before it starts being a detriment to your person. I'm almost done. The bucket is empty, so this is as good as it's going to get." Flip fluttered over to the window sill, not looking at Dean but straight ahead to a wispy field of oats. "Where are you, Dean?"

"...I'm fishing." Dean replied, swallowing. "Waiting on Sammy to get back with a six pack and some half decent snacks. Spicy jerky. Combos... the ones with the pretzel and cheese deals, you know. Gummy lifesavers. He likes the berry ones..." he trailed off, mind catching up with his body in shallow breaths and burning eyes. "What if something bad happens?"

"What if something good happens?" Flip patted his index finger.

Ah, there it was. Finally the man began to cry, hanging his head in shame. When he lifted it after a shuddering sob, she was gone and he was sitting in a folding chair on a pier with a large hand patting his shoulder.

"Catch anything yet?" Sam asked.

"No. Uh. No. Nibbles, but nothing good." Dean caught a bag of Combos tossed in his direction and cracked open a Budweiser.

~

When he sat up in bed, it was no surprise that his pillow was soaked, but he was still annoyed about it. The air smelled like bacon, though. That was nice. He shuffled out to the galley, yawning wide, and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"I was gonna come get you." Sam sat two plates on the table, piled high with waffles and bacon.

"Somebody woke up chipper." Dean rubbed his face, but couldn't refuse the siren call of the porcine perfection.

"Slept better than I have in a while, I guess..." Sam trailed off.

"Yeah. About that," Dean took a sip and sat down, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. "Can we, uh... can we talk? About... stuff?"

Sam passed the syrup to his brother and tried not to look too excited over the prospect of having a real meat and potatoes conversation.

"Yeah. I'd like that."

[freebooter4ever]

Eugene's Second Date

AU where Sledge and Snafu meet before the war in 1940 Mobile, Alabama. Eugene and Merriell already had their first date where Merriell surprised him with Eugene's first kiss at the end, and now Eugene is dogging Merriell's steps like a lovesick puppy.

--------

That night Eugene floats home in a weird euphoria. It's not even necessarily happy, because he's half confused over his own emotions, but he's very joyful about it. He's so out of it he runs the car over his parent's mailbox.

He tells Shelton about this when they meet up for lunch at the lumberyard the next day. Shelton laughs.

"It was dark, I couldn't see a thing," Eugene protests in his defense.

"You're lucky it wasn't a tree," Shelton says. Still grinning. Eugene wonders if Shelton ever stopped grinning since last night.

"I would have seen a tree," Eugene argues.

"You said it was dark��"

"Not dark enough I couldn't see a tree, for goodness sake. I'm not blind."

"You couldn't see a mailbox."

"The height of my family's mailbox lines up almost exactly with the bottom of the car's windshield giving me at most an inch of warning that the damn thing is there."

"Should've let me drive...."

"I'm not a bad driver."

"Never said you weren't but you better let me drive next time just in case. Don't want to go hurting no more innocent mailboxes."

"There's gonna be a next time?" Eugene raises an eyebrow.

Shelton smiles and pauses the conversation to light his cigarette. Eugene turns back to his sketch of the dry docks.

"I'll fix it for you," Shelton drawls.

"Fix what?" Eugene asks distractedly, having already forgotten their conversation in his concentration over his drawing.

"You said it's one of those fancy mailboxes...shaped like a tiny house, yeah?" Shelton asks, "The boss saves the scrap lumber for us temp workers to take home. It'd be easy to get my hands on some small pieces. Make your little house good as new."

"You'd do that?"

"Sure," Shelton looks away from him, out to sea.

Eugene seizes the chance to draw his profile. It doesn't turn out well. He rips the page out of his notebook, crumples it, and tosses it down to the floor of the dock for the gulls to pick apart.

"I've got to go," Eugene says, "Need to get back before I'm missed." He doesn't mention that his class after lunch is woodshop, and how ironic it feels that he's building crooked decorative clocks while Shelton builds the infrastructure needed for warship production. Eugene stands and shoves his journal into his bookstrap.

Shelton hastily gets up to stand beside him, "Missed where?"

"School," Eugene admits. He feels like a child and he knows his embarrassment shows on his face. He can't look at Shelton as he packs up his lunch box and starts to climb down off the dock.

"Eugene," Shelton calls, following him down.

Eugene starts picking his way across the rickety wood. Their lunch spot is one of the ancient docks, probably from the 1800's. It's slowly being stripped away - any useful materials being put to work in the new, bigger, more robust docks.

"You mean to tell me you drove all the way downtown on your lunch break?" Shelton calls out to Eugene's back.

"No," Eugene replies over his shoulder, "I skipped third period so I could bicycle all the way downtown, for my health."

"Gene," Shelton finally catches up to him and grabs his hand, pulling him back.

Eugene gives in. He stops and turns around. Sometimes he wishes Shelton would just quit smiling for once.

Shelton bites his bottom lip, looking at Eugene. "You skipped class for me," he says.

"I did not say that," Eugene protests.

"Sure, Gene," Shelton says, tipping forward into Eugene's space.

Eugene fidgets, slinging his books over his shoulder, "It feels...useless; sitting in class, waiting to be able to do something meaningful. At least here I can see what's happening."

Shelton's expression goes serious then. He licks his lips and tightens his hold on Eugene's hand. "C'mon," he says.

"What?"

"I know what you need," is Shelton's only answer.

Eugene follows his lead. They climb around the docks and duck into the alley between the old waterfront dancehall and a warehouse. And much to Eugene's surprise - although it answers all of Eugene's unspoken wishes - Shelton pushes him up against the brick and kisses him. For a seemingly aloof, sometimes awkward guy, Shelton can be very demanding when he wants to be. And this kiss demands everything. They break apart whenever a car drives by on the busy city street a block away, but otherwise their necking goes uninterrupted.

Eugene's going to miss his fourth period class, for sure.

"I don't see how this is supporting the war effort either," Eugene teases during one break when a car actually parks in front of the alley opening and makes things difficult for them to kiss without being seen.

Shelton laughs. He is leaning languidly on the alley wall across from Eugene, his legs stretched out in front of him. He slides a little farther down the brick and lazily extends one leg until his foot is flat against the opposite wall.

"You're boosting worker morale," Shelton drawls.

"Oh god, don't say it like that," Eugene rolls his eyes and shoves Shelton's foot off the wall with his hip.

"I'm severely lacking in patriotism," Shelton continues, lifting his chin and putting on a fake serious air, "Multiple sessions may be needed to boost..." he flexes his hips and grabs at the baggy crotch of his work overalls in a rude gesture, "...my sagging morale."

"Shut up, Shelton," Eugene grins. He glances down the alley to make sure the car finally left. And then shoves off his side to close the distance between them and flatten Merriell's body against the opposite wall. Pressed against him like this, Eugene can feel Merriell's 'morale' and it is in no danger of sagging. Eugene kisses his neck just to be sure.

"If I boost it too much, we might end up with the opposite effect," Eugene whispers in his ear.

Merriell groans and latches his hands into Eugene's hair. "Oh, aren't you clever," he says glibly. He sounds sarcastic.

Though when Eugene moves to look Merriell in the eye again before locking lips with him once more, Merriell appears to be completely and totally in bliss.

This time if another car stops neither of them notice. Eugene doesn't think he could notice anything except Merriel, as long as Merriel keeps his hands around the back of Eugene's neck, and his knee wedged between Eugene's legs. Luckily they aren't seen. Cause, god, Eugene could kiss Merriell all day and forget about the time.

Fortunately as it turns out, there's plenty of warning when they eventually hear Merriell's name being called.

"Shelton?" a man's voice yells, husky from years of cigarettes, "Get your sorry ass out here, I saw you having a smoke. I need a hand with this."

"Fuck," Shelton breaks their kiss but doesn't push Eugene off.

Eugene groans quietly and presses his nose in the crook of Merriell's neck. He smells like the ocean and sawdust. Eugene wonders what he himself smells like. Probably musty old books.

"Gonna get me in trouble," Shelton smirks and disentangles himself from Eugene's arms. He backs off down the alley and gives Eugene a salute, "Uncle Sam thanks you for your service." And with a parting wink, Shelton jogs around the corner to meet his boss.

Eugene slides down the wall, breathing hard, and sits in the alley to give himself a moment before he goes back to school. It's only been a minute of separation from Merriell's body, and already Eugene's chest is aching terribly with need. Probably not a good sign for the days to come. He predicts a lot of his other responsibilities will fall by the wayside in favor of this. 

He returns to the docks for lunch every single day after that. And with lunch always comes kisses that turn out to be addictive.

On the weekend Shelton comes over to Eugene's house. He drives the ugliest old Ford truck with rusted, chipped paint that might have been green at one point. But the engine purrs like a kitten.

Shelton notices Eugene's interest in his truck. He slaps the hood and announces, "I pour all my poker winnings into her."

"You must be shit at poker," Eugene replies.

Shelton laughs and maneuvers around the cab to pop the hood. He proudly displays the gleaming, beautiful engine and shiny parts to Eugene. Eugene makes appropriate admiring noises. He's never seen a car engine so clean that isn't fresh off the line - there's not a single speck of dust in sight.

"All new parts. Machined most of em custom myself," Shelton brags as he runs his hands through his hair and gazes at his vehicle proudly, "Impossible to get anything manufactured nowadays with rationing and shortages."

"How...?" Eugene asks.

"Just good with my hands," Shelton says, turning his face up to Eugene with a shit eating grin.

Eugene pinches Merriell's thigh through the hole in his jeans.

Shelton throws an arm over Eugene's shoulder and traps Eugene's hand between their bodies to deter anymore pinching. He bites his lip and grins with his nose close enough to almost touch Eugene's cheek.

Eugene doesn't dare turn his head. The temptation to kiss Shelton is too great, and his parents are a few short yards away in the house at the top of their driveway. His mom could be watching out the window right now. Eugene's hands tighten his grip on the truck's frame as he leans over the engine, pretending to take a closer look.

"Before he died my dad would collect old junkers and give 'em to me," Shelton explains, "I'd fix em up, get em working, even make em look pretty. Then he'd go and sell em. I never even got a chance to drive any. Only driving practice I ever got was on tractors."

Eugene looks up at him. "Well," he says, "It was worthwhile practice. This truck's beautiful."

Shelton laughs, "Yeah. Her shell may not look pretty, but she'll get me anywhere, guaranteed. And ain't nobody gonna steal her, cause who'd want a rust bucket?"

"If anybody turns their nose up at this truck, they're fools," Eugene tells him.

Shelton grins and squeezes Eugene's hip fondly, "C'mon. Help me unload."

Shelton grabs his toolbox and settles on the ground next to Eugene's knocked over mailbox. He arrays his tools around himself in organized chaos and picks up the mailbox to examine it. Next to him Eugene stacks neat piles of scrap wood from the bed of Shelton's truck.

As Shelton diligently works, Eugene lays down, props his sketchbook up in the grass and sketches.

Occasionally Shelton pauses to lean over and tickle Eugene's ear to get his attention.

"My buddy got his hands on this new synthetic adhesive," Shelton explains as he works, "They're testing it down at the lumberyard. They say it's completely waterproof. But look…" he runs a line of glue along the edge of a block of wood, and another line of glue on the edge of a second block of identical length and width. He clamps the two together, and holds it up in front of Eugene's face, "Give it a few hours and this scrap will be the perfect size for the wall of your splintered mailbox."

"Impressive," Eugene says blandly.

Shelton reaches over to ruffle Eugene's hair, but Eugene blocks him. "Hey, not with glue on your fingers," Eugene protests.

"You don't know enough about woodworking to appreciate my genius," Shelton taunts.

"I do appreciate your genius," Eugene insists as he continues to deflect all of Shelton's attempts to get glue in his hair.

And he shows that appreciation, later, after the mailbox is finished good as new - better than new. Shelton carved a beautiful gingerbread trim and added it to the eaves using his magical blackmarket adhesive. Eugene's mother thanks Shelton by gifting him a basket full of food and fresh baked cornbread. "I still can't believe our boy ran over a mailbox. Sometimes I worry Eugene would lose his head if it wasn't attached to his shoulders," she says to Shelton right in front of Eugene before he leaves, "He spends so much of his time in the clouds."

"It was one accident, mother," Eugene sighs.

Eugene thanks Shelton by riding back with him in the truck, his bicycle waiting for him secure in the bed. He instructs Shelton to pull over after they cross the bridge and he leads him down to the creek. They sit on the wooden trestle underneath the road and kiss until long after the cornbread goes cold. Shelton doesn't seem to mind. Eugene even boosts Merriell's morale to completion crudely with his hand until Merriell is sagging against Eugene's shoulder, murmuring his pleasure.

Eventually they have to return to the park where Shelton lives and pick up Mairzy from the old neighbor lady who watches Merriell's little sister most evenings. Shelton picks flowers from the side of the road and presents them to the old woman as a bouquet. He smiles at her and asks after her own grandkids living two towns over, and Eugene can tell by her response that the old woman cares about both Shelton and Mairzy dearly.

"Let's go into town," Eugene suggests before the three of them walk over to Shelton's house.

"What for?" Shelton asks.

"I was thinking maybe ice cream," Eugene shrugs, "My treat."

Mairzy's eyes bug out of her head. She grabs onto Merriell's arm and swings on his elbow, "Ice cream! For dinner?!" Her imagination explodes and it's written all over the awe in her face.

"You are going to regret ever saying those words," Merriell informs Eugene gravely.

"Consider it a thank you for fixing my mailbox," Eugene replies.

"Thought it was my fault you ran over the damn thing in the first place," Shelton says.

"Ice cream!" Mairzy exclaims desperately, shaking Merriell's arm.

He gives in, feigning reluctance, but he smiles at Eugene over Mairzy's head. "I know just the place," Shelton says.

They don't go into town, they drive across the tracks, metaphorically speaking. Eugene receives odd looks when he climbs out of the truck behind Mairzy. But he schools his nerves and tries to be gracious as he holds the door open for Shelton to go into the ice cream parlor. The parlor is far from new, there's no jukebox, the overhead fans don't function, and as he and Shelton lean up against the clean but cracked tile counter, Eugene knows that he is getting away with this, in a place he doesn't fit in, but if Shelton tried this across town, in a place where any level of brown is too brown, Shelton might not be served.

They buy the largest banana split sundae Eugene can afford and Mairzy carries it proudly, worshipfully with both hands to a booth by the front windows. The window is wide open, with a brand new screen to keep out the bugs. But the music from the ragtag band playing outside on the porch filters through. Shelton slides into the booth next to Mairzy, and Eugene sits across from them. He passes out spoons, and Mairzy dips hers in eagerly to take the first bite. Merriell twirls his spoon in his hand, relaxes in his seat with his arm protectively thrown over the back of the booth, and he grins daringly at Eugene. Eugene digs his spoon into one of the chocolate brownies mixed into the sundae, takes a bite, and grins back.

Mairzy finishes the majority of the sundae. Shelton eats very little, he claims to not have much of a sweet tooth. Though Eugene notes for later reference that when Shelton does take bites he favors the vanilla and the apple crumble and whipped cream on one side of the dish.

When they're done, Mairzy pulls the gigantic bowl closer to her so she can scoop out the melted soupy leftovers with her spoon. Shelton reaches over her head and taps on the window during a break in the music. He asks the band if they know a specific song. The answer is yes, and Merriell slides open the window screen to pass some change through and the band strikes up again. Underneath the table Merriell starts tapping his foot to the beat against Eugene's own. Eugene laughs and jiggles his leg along with the music though he knows he can't hold a rhythm to save his life.

After Mairzy licks the last drop of ice cream off her spoon, she starts talking - mostly pestering her older brother with questions. In response Merriell starts telling stories, and Eugene settles in comfortably, happy to listen.

Eugene can't remember the last time he's spent a more pleasant evening.

When he announces this to Merriell, the other boy gets a highly suspect gleam in his eye, "Who says the night is over?"

Eugene raises his eyebrows in question.

Turns out the carnival is in town. 

They park at the edge of the fairgrounds. People swarm in and out of the brightly lit fence. Eugene has to laugh because this vibrant, tacky, loud place is the last place he'd expect Merriell to go willingly. Sure enough, before they climb out of the truck Merriell leans in close over Mairzy's head and quietly explains, "the things I put up with for her." He grins and squeezes Eugene's hand tight, including Eugene in the conspiracy to make Mairzy happy. Merriell opens the door, Mairzy hops out, and he follows, giving Eugene a quick peck on the lips first.

As the three of them approach the gate, Mairzy starts skipping with extra sugar-induced energy, forcing Shelton to keep a tight grip on her hand for fear of losing her in the crowd. Eugene is running low on cash, so they don't have much money to spend at the ticket booth, but together they have enough to buy Mairzy a handful of rides.

Her favorite is the swings, with the whip-it a close second. Eugene and Merriell are left to lean up against the ride railings and wave and yell everytime she goes around. They use the tight press of the crowd to stand closer together than they might otherwise get away with. Merriell is pressed against Eugene's side, smiling and glowing and looking more handsome than Eugene's seen him before.

As luck would have it, the two of them come upon another couple with a child at the line for the ferris wheel. The four of them put Mairzy and the other little girl safely in a seat, which leaves Eugene and Merriell able to share one themselves. Shelton throws an arm tight over Eugene's shoulder, and traces patterns into Eugene's arm with his finger. He sneaks a quick kiss to the side of Eugene's head before anyone can notice.

Merriell spends his last coins at one of the midway games. Being preternaturally gifted at aim, Merriel wins handily and points to one of the stuffed bears hanging on the wall. The bear is wearing a miniature Marines campaign hat with a kerchief tied around its neck.

"No, this is for Eugene," Merriell announces as he hands the teddy bear to the boy beside him, "Something to hold onto at night." Merriell winks.

Eugene can feel himself turning bright red with embarrassment. To cover it, he steps up to the plate, pays the man behind the counter, and beats Merriell's score by more than a few points. Merriel laughs, and licks his lips while staring at Eugene in a way that tells Eugene he will be in trouble next time Merriell gets him alone. Eugene gifts the slightly bigger bear he wins to Mairzy, who is delighted and proclaims Eugene her new favorite person.

With their wallets thoroughly depleted the three walk back towards the carnival gate. Mairzy's sugar high finally crashes - whether by choice or not, hard to tell, but she convinces Merriell to carry her piggyback the rest of the way.

Eugene is happy to leave. Shelton has been riling him up for fun all night, and Eugene is desperate to get him back for it.

Until they pass a final booth just outside the gate erected on the side of the gravel path.

The military recruitment posters are impossible to miss. The lights trained on the booth are brighter than the entire carnival and there's a small cadre of beautiful girls in sequined costumes handing out flyers. A couple men in service uniforms stand behind the table answering questions posed by curious onlookers. Eugene can't help but stare.

A hand on the small of his back jolts Eugene out of his thoughts. Merriell leans in close and whispers, "Do I need to be jealous of the women...or the men?" He looks into Eugene's eyes and Eugene is surprised by the honest vulnerability reflected back at him.

Shelton isn't exaggerating or teasing, he is self-conscious. And making his jealousy plain.

"Neither," Eugene responds firmly, risking a quick squeeze of Merriell's hand.

"You want to go talk to them?" Merriell asks. He coaxes Mairzy off his back and guides her to sit down on a nearby park bench.

"No," Eugene shakes his head, "No, I'd be...shamed."

Merriell's expression turns cold and haughty, "Ain't got nothing to be ashamed of," and he marches confidently over to the table on his own.

Eugene hesitates. He hangs back to watch as Shelton turns on his smile, strides straight up to the men in uniform, and shakes their hands. Eugene can't hear what they're saying, but the military men are all smiles too, and everyone is clearly getting along well.

Eugene burns with jealousy.

He's about to shyly sneak away, not too far that Shelton couldn't find him after, but far enough he can't be seen. Then a third man joins the table. This man is older, and in the Marine Corps - there's no mistaking that distinctive hat. He's tall, and broad shouldered with a little bit of a barrel chest - enough to cut an imposing figure and not enough to distract from the silhouette of the uniform. He's clean shaven, and regimented, and he greets Shelton warmly but without a smile. This man takes his job seriously.

If Eugene could be anything, he'd be a Marine. He wants that pride - to know he is making a decisive choice about which side of history he'll be on.

"Gene?" Shelton's voice asks carefully.

Eugene looks to his right and discovers at some point while Eugene was daydreaming Shelton returned and ended up directly beside his elbow. "I'm fine," Eugene says, "Let's go."

"Don't you want to...I could introduce you…?" Shelton gestures to the table.

"I said, let's go," Eugene repeats. He picks up Mairzy this time and carries her back to the parking lot.

Shelton nods once, "Okay, Eugene," and follows.

The car ride home is silent. Mairzy falls asleep between them, completely oblivious to the tension. Her head is propped against Shelton's leg and her feet are on top of Eugene's lap.

Shelton's truck rolls a few feet into Eugene's driveway and Eugene signals for him to stop.

"Do you mind getting out for a minute?" Eugene asks softly.

"Sure thing," Shelton says without emotion in his voice.

They both slide out of the cab and leave Mairzy sleeping soundly on the seat. Shelton lingers on his side of the truck, forcing Eugene to come to him. Eugene takes Merriell's face in his hands and tilts his head back for a kiss. At first Merriell responds, grabbing Gene's wrists and pulling him closer. But then he shoves away.

It hurts. Not physically, but Eugene can feel it like an ache - even worse than the ache days ago when he wanted Merriell but didn't know how to act on it.

"Gene, I can't," Shelton whispers harshly.

"What, because I was admiring the uniform of some Marine I don't even know? Are you really that jealous?" Eugene demands an answer.

"What?" Shelton asks, "No!"

"Then why not?" Eugene exclaims.

"Because I'm not gonna be someone's shame," Shelton says in a rush, "Not again."

"Why would I be ashamed of you?" Eugene is confused.

"You said…" Shelton's nerves get the better of him and he can barely talk straight with his accent, "You said you wouldn't talk to the recruiting officers because you were ashamed."

"Yeah, ashamed of myself, knowing that they'd never take some skinny kid with a heart defect who gets winded climbing stairs," Eugene says irritably.

"You weren't...thinking of us…?" Shelton is skeptical, "Us, being together?"

"Didn't even cross my mind," Eugene says, "Though now that I do think about it, probably a good idea not to bring it up at recruitment."

Shelton laughs.

Eugene takes a step closer, takes Merriell's big hands in his. "Can't think of any reason why I'd ever be ashamed of you."

Merriell laughs again, "More fool on you."

"If anything, I'm the shameful one," Eugene argues.

Merriell grins and scoffs, "You? The son of the doctor?"

"Yeah, the one who, if we get into this war, is going to be stuck back here, looking on from afar, waiting. In agony of not knowing what's happening, no doubt," Eugene says, mostly serious though he likes that Merriell is smiling again, "I'll be left with nothing to do except track battle movements like I'm a kid playing soldier again."

"You won't be alone," Merriell says meaningfully and takes a step forward.

Eugene isn't really registering what Merriell is saying. He's too focused on the fact that finally, finally Merriell is kissing him again, passionately. He slips his fingers through Merriell's belt loops and tugs him close. Sometimes while they're kissing Eugene thinks about bringing Merriell home for reasons beyond fixing mailboxes. A stuffed teddy bear is nice and soft, but he thinks Merriell would be a better fit in his bed. He can imagine holding Merriell all night long, and it's still not enough. His imagination doesn't go much further than that, but he knows if he lets his thoughts run wild they would. Easily. 

Just one slip over the edge and…

"Wait," Eugene pulls away, "Why won't I be alone?"

Merriell looks wry, "Well, I'm not planning on enlisting anytime soon."

"You're not?" Eugene extends his arms to put distance between them.

"No," Merriell laughs.

"I don't see how that's funny," Eugene says defensively. 

Merriell shrugs, looking confused.

Eugene lets go of him and opens the truck door to pull his bear out of the cab. He clutches the teddy tight to his chest and asks, "You're not going to enlist?"

"No!" Shelton confirms, more certain and stubborn this time. He's not laughing anymore.

Eugene turns around and starts walking up the hill, "Good night, Shelton."

"Gene," Merriell grabs his hand and pulls him back.

Eugene twists out of his grip, "I can't believe you're not planning on enlisting. They predict the United States will enter war soon - and not just as an arsenal for the Allies this time. The question is no longer if, but when. We're going to need every able man." He gets right up into Shelton's face and glares, "Have you even seen the latest news reels from Europe?"

"Don't watch 'em," Shelton says. He's gone emotionless again, and that irritates Eugene more than anything.

"You don't care?" Eugene scoffs, "You don't care, you're going to let other men die for you while you stay here and, what...build tiny houses? Kiss me in back alleys for the war effort?"

"Eugene…"

"I can't enlist. Even if I was of age I'd be declined because of my health. Do you know what it's like to be so goddamned useless? And you...you…" Eugene loses control of his own thoughts.

"I'm not dying for nobody but myself," Shelton says.

Eugene stares at him with stunned shock. "You're fucked up, Shelton," Eugene says. He turns his back on the other boy and walks away.

"You ashamed of me, then?" Shelton calls to him in a mocking voice.

Eugene lets himself into the house, but he lingers at the front window. He pushes himself into the curtains and presses his ear to the cold glass. The truck engine starts, nearly silent even in the quiet night. Eugene buries his face in the top of the teddy bear's head and tries not to cry. He sits there till he hears the tires rumble across the bridge. And then he goes to his room, kicks off his shoes, and falls into bed.

He does cry then. But it's not for Shelton. It's for himself, and his own failings. And it feels almost guilty.

tag list @xmxisxforxmaybe

[ejzah]

@mashmaiden requested a fic using the following prompt, preferably in an early season: Whumpee is feeling sick at work, but the colleagues don't take him seriously. They're even making fun of him. So the whumpee tries to hide how bad he is and wants to tough it out, but he can’t focus on his work and makes mistakes. The colleagues are jerks and keep mocking poor whumpee, until he just collapses in front of them.

A/N: I might not have followed it to the letter, but hopefully it’s still ok. Set in season 2.

***

Infected

“Shake a leg, Deeks!” Sam shouted as Deeks hauled himself out of a ditch, leaving behind the remains of a burnt out SUV.

“A little help might be nice!” he shouted back. Sam just chuckled, crossing his arms and watching as Deeks struggled to climb the muddy slope while carrying several evidence bags and a camera.

Callen came to stand beside Sam and peer down at Deeks, looking vaguely interested.

“You’re still down there?” Deeks bit back a nasty retort and finally pulled himself out. His right arm protested the abuse, aching and burning.

“Hey, I was shot last week, remember?” he said, not completely able to keep the whine from his voice. Sam rolled his eyes as he started walking back to the Challenger.

“Deeks, it was a graze. I’ve gotten worse paper cuts.”

“You know, if I wanted to be treated terribly, I’d go back to LAPD.”

“Is that a promise?” Callen asked, tossing another evidence back towards him. Deeks caught it and once again, his arm twinged. It actually felt worse than it had this morning, burning at the slightest movement, the surrounding skin uncomfortably tight.

“Your concern is touching,” Deeks joked. “I’m gonna find Kensi.”

“Maybe she’ll kiss your boo boos for you!” Sam called to him, snickering as Deeks walked away.

***

Deeks peeled the white bandage off his upper arm, wincing as even that small movement caused a significant amount of pain. He had the sleeve of his t-shirt rolled out of the way and frowned at the reddened skin he’d just revealed.

The original wound had been about three inches long, not too deep, but enough that he’d needed stitches. He’d thought it was healing well, but a few days ago it had started hurting more and developed a red tinge around the edges. This morning the whole thing had looked swollen and now it was bright red, hot to the touch and something nasty was seeping from beneath the stitches.

He grabbed a couple tissues and wiped the liquid away with a grimace, trying not to think too much about the yellowish color.

“Deeks, what are you doing in there?” Kensi shouted through the restroom door.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” he said, hastily throwing away the used bandage and replacing it with a bandaid. It probably wasn’t the best idea, especially since he’d forgotten to grab the prescription strength cream he was supposed to apply whenever he changed the dressing.

Kensi made an exasperated sound and pounded on the door a couple times.

“God, I swear you spend more time in their than any woman I know. Hurry up, Eric has an update.”

Deeks bit back a sarcastic retort and yanked his sleeve down, spinning around. A wave of unexpected nausea rocked through him and he felt both cold and hot at once. He took several deep breathes until he felt less like throwing up, conscious of Kensi impatiently waiting on the other side.

“What were you doing, touching up your roots?” Kensi asked when he came out, snorting at her own joke.

“Well, one of us has to look pretty,” he said, fluffing his hair. Kensi rolled her eyes and pushed him down the hallway.

“Now that, is a hilarious joke.” She looked at him suspiciously as they walked upstairs. “You’re not sick, are you?” she asked.

“Of course not.” He debated telling her about his arm, but he didn’t feel like giving Callen and Sam more fuel. Hell, they probably thought he was a wuss for going to the hospital in the first place.

“You look a little...off.” When he just shrugged off her concern, she sighed. “Well, if you’re coming down with some kind of stomach bug, you better not give it to me.”

“It’s wonderful to know I work with such caring people,” he commented and Kensi smacked his arm. Fortunately it was his left or he probably would have made a very unmanly sound.

“Is Deeks still griping about his arm?” Sam asked as they walked into the OPS center.

“Actually, I think he fell asleep in the bathroom,” Kensi replied, smirking in Deeks’ direction. She crossed her arms, clearly waiting for a response, but he merely glared weakly, concentrating on tamping down the latest wave of nausea.

The walk upstairs had left him feeling weak and shaky. He went to stand by the table, using it to support himself. Was the room always so hot? Hetty needed to invest in better air conditioners.

“Deeks!” Kensi hissed, jabbing him with her elbow. She nodded at Eric who was talking about...something. Kensi jabbed him again and he grunted. A drop of sweat trickled down the middle of his back, adding to the overall feeling of awfulness.

He must have tuned out again because the next thing Kensi was standing right in front of him, her slightly blurry face filled with concern.

“Deeks, are you ok?” She repeated, no humor in her voice this time.

“Actually, I’m not feeling very good,” he admitted weakly. He swayed suddenly and Kensi steadied him. Sam and Callen joined her, the case forgotten as they both stared at him.

“You do not look good, man,” Callen observed and Deeks glared malevolently, feeling clammier by the moment. His hand trembled as he leaned heavily against the table. Naturally Kensi noticed and grabbed him by the shoulders, directing him towards a chair.

He couldn’t hold back a groan as she pressed directly on his wound, the pain radiating down his arm. She brushed the back of her knuckles across his forehead, her frown increasing.

“He definitely has a fever,” she said, turning to Sam and Callen, effectively excluding him from the conversation.

“You know I’m not dead yet,” he muttered irritably.

“Do I need to call an ambulance?” Eric asked, already reaching for his headset.

“No,” Deeks said more loudly. The last thing he needed was to be taken away in an ambulance over a little fever. “I think my scar is just a little infected.”

“A little?” Sam repeated, taking a peek under Deeks’ sleeve. He ignored Deeks’ futile attempts to push his hands away and yanked the large bandaid off. Somehow Deeks wished he would make another joke, but he just looked concerned. “This looks like the beginning stages of sepsis.”

Kensi leaned over to get a better look and made a sound that pretty much summed up how Deeks was feeling.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” she asked and Deeks couldn’t tell if she was angry or concerned.

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” he said honestly. Ok, he knew it wasn’t great, but definitely not sepsis level.

“You need to get this taken care of before the infections spreads or your temp goes up.”

“Can’t you just left me stay here to die in peace?” Deeks begged, closing his eyes and pressing his palms over the sockets.

“I thought you said it wasn’t that bad,” Callen reminded him. He was smirking. Deeks knew it even without seeing him.

“That was before my head started pounding.” He groaned again and felt Kensi’s hand settle on the back of his neck. She started stroking his skin in a soothing rhythm.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call an ambulance?” Eric asked again.

“Nah, I’ll take him in,” Kensi said, reaching for Deeks’ uninjured arm. “C’mon partner, let’s go get your pus drained.” Deeks grimaced as he laboriously got to his feet.

“If you don’t want me to throw up, I suggest you stop talking about pus,” he warned her

“You even think about throw up in the SUV, I’m making you walk to the hospital.” Despite her words, she wrapped her arm around his back and let him lean against her.

“I knew you loved me.”

“You’re lucky that your all sweaty and pitiful looking right now,” Kensi retorted with a hint of cheerful menace in her voice.” As they slowly walked through the sliding doors, Callen called after them,

“Try not to kill him before you get to the ER.”

***

A/N: I may have expedited the symptoms of mild sepsis just a touch. And naturally, Sam knows what sepsis looks like.