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itsphoenix0724 · 2 years ago

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Flower Power (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Az comes into contact with a strange flower on his trip to the continent, and he begins having some strange.....side effects.

Word Counts: 3.3k

Warnings: Smut, aphrodisiac sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls)

A/N: Hello everyone! This is entirely self-indulgent I'm not even gonna lie. The next part of Your Heart on a Platter will be out soon, but I could not focus on it with this idea in my head. I tried to play around with different POVs, so I hope it came out okay! Please enjoy, and as always constructive criticism is welcome!

“Thank you for coming,” Rhys mutters, quickly ushering you into the small apartment and closing the door behind you. Nothing appears to be in disarray so that means that Az was at least coherent enough to get himself back to his apartment and not break anything in the process.

“He seems okay right now, but I thought you should give him a once over anyway.”

“Of course,” you nod at Rhys, “Better to be safe than sorry.” You had officially joined the Inner Circle as a healer 30 years ago when Madja retired, and you had easily grown into part of your found family. You were always closer to Az, you preferred his quiet demeanor over the loudness and boyishness of the rest of the family, and he actually was quite funny if you listened to him. You two quickly became a pair of wall flowers at social events, always holed up in some corner quietly joking about your family’s antics.

Apparently, when Az had been on a mission to the continent he had come into contact with some strange flower. Rhys had sent you the mental playback of Az falling out of the sky into a field of those flowers, and you had researched them to the best of your ability before you came over.

For Az’s sake, you really hoped this wasn’t the flower you thought it was.

“How do you feel Az?” you ask, walking into the room to find Az sitting on his bed with his elbows resting on his knees. He looks up at you in greeting, hazel eyes tracking your movements to him across the room.

“I feel fine. Rhys is just being a mother hen.” He offers you a small smirk as you roll your eyes and move to stand in between his legs. You try to fight down the smile forming on your lips and fail, and his eyes shine with victory.

“This is supposed to be a professional medical visit Shadowsinger,” you tut, smiling as you run your hands through his hair to check for any bumps from his fall. Az lets his eyes slip shut, enjoying the way your fingers feel in his hair. He has to stop himself from reaching for your wrists as you drag your hands away. “How are you feeling?”

“Throats a little sore,” He mutters, “My back hurts from the crash landing but I’ve had worse.” He notices the way your eyes widen slightly when he mentions his sore throat. “What is it?” he tugs at your hips pulling you closer into his space. He has to fight down the urge to nuzzle his head into your neck. Your smell is much stronger than usual, fresh tea and rainwater, but he chalks it up to being away from you for a few days.

“You might be experiencing some strange….side effects from the plants that you crash landed into.” Your cheeks flush a bright red. Azriel furrows his eyebrows at you, he doesn’t understand why you’re so embarrassed. You let out a sigh.

You have to tell him no matter how much it embarrasses you. You can’t let him go into this blind.

“The flower field you crashed into may have certain aphrodisiac properties.” you manage to choke out, and you watch as dark red floods the tan skin on Azriel’s cheeks.

“Oh” Az coughs, running a hand through his hair. “When will we find out?” You’ve never seen him so bashful before. He refuses to make eye contact with you.

“We should know by tomorrow morning,” You clear your throat. “If you wake up tomorrow with a fever you’ve been affected. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight just in case you need something, and if you are affected I’ll monitor your recovery.” He nods at you again.

“And will you be safe here…If I am affected.” Azriel would hate himself if he did anything to you while he wasn’t himself. He was pleading with the mother that this would end up being nothing. His self-control around you was paper thin enough already.

He didn’t need a flower turning him into a glorified beast thrown into the mix as well.

“You won’t hurt me,” you promise and you can see his shoulders slump. “I’ll make you some tea before bed, and tell Rhys we might be holed up here for a couple of days. Then you should probably get some rest.” Azriel nods at you again as you leave the room.

You make your way to the kitchen and find Rhys perched against the island. His eyes are glazed over in a way that tells you he’s probably talking to Feyre. You root around in Az’s cabinet and find your favorite brand of tea tucked away in the back. Your face flushes as you realize he must have bought it at your recommendation, and you can’t help but be reminded of the many times you and Az had spent combing over books in the library over this same brand of tea. Your daydream is interrupted as Rhys clears his throat behind you. He notices the blush on your cheeks and sends you a feline smirk.

Bastard.

“How’s the patient?” he asks, leaning across the island.

“He’s okay for right now. I’m going to stay and monitor him throughout the night. If he is having a reaction I’ll stay and make sure he’s okay, but it’ll probably be a couple of days before the drug runs its course naturally.” You allow yourself to slip back into the role of healer instead of a friend to make this conversation less embarrassing.

“I’m sure Az will be happy he gets to hole up here with you for a few days. The last time I had time like that with Feyre I took full advantage.” Rhys smirks again at the flames rising to your cheeks, playfully wiggling his eyebrows.

You wonder if Feyre would punish you for treason if you sent a mug flying at Rhy’s head.

“Rhysand!” you admonish, “Azriel and I are friends and that is all. Plus I would never take advantage of him like that.” All Rhys does is laugh and wish you luck as he winnows out, most likely straight into the arms of his mate to tell her about the weekend you’re possibly in for. You wander back into Azriel’s room armed with a mug of tea and a book to keep him occupied. You find him still perched on the edge of the bed lost in thought. He’s no longer in his leathers and instead changed them out for comfortable pants. It takes your mind a second to process the fact that he’s shirtless. Large wings are draped across the bed, and you find yourself staring at the muscled back and swirls of tattoos across his chest. His shadows end up noticing you’re there before he does as one comes to swirl excitedly around your wrist pulling you in front of its master. Az offers you a small smile as you set the cup of tea down on his nightstand and press the book into his hands.

“What’s this?” he questions you, scarred hands thumbing through the pages. Your eyes track every move of those fingers as they gently run down the spine. The shadows are curling around your ankles as he looks up at you again, “newest read?”

Mother those hands get you every fucking time

“I thought you’d like it,” you nod. “I wanted to wait and give it to you when you got back from the continent, and I figured it might keep your mind busy while we were stuck here.” Az shoots you a grateful smile as he sets the book down beside him on the bed. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.” Azriel immediately protests, grabbing at your wrist to stop your exit.

“I can sleep on the couch,” he argues, ever the gentleman. You can tell he already feels bad enough about you having to stay.

“It’s alright Az. You need to rest, and I know you won’t be able to sleep well on the couch with your wings.” He considers for a moment then relents as a shadow brushes across your cheek in thanks. You wish him goodnight as you leave his room to make yourself comfortable on the couch. Distantly you can hear Azriel settle into bed, and flick through the pages of the book you gave to him. You flick through the pages of the book you brought before drifting to sleep on the couch.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Go, go go”

The first thing Azriel notices when he wakes up is the fact that he feels like his whole body is on fire. He shoves off the thin pants he already wore to bed, leaving him in just his black undershorts, and practically throws the comforter down to the floor with them. Leaving just the thin bed sheet as he rolls over to the other side. The second thing he notices is that his shadows are frantic, whispering to him nonstop to go somewhere.

“Go Where,” Azriel growls out into the smoke. The soreness in his throat apparently has gotten worse.

The swirl stops for a moment before continuing with their chatter. It now seems like they’re talking more to each other than himself. He tries to listen in again, but it only gives him a pounding headache.

“Go go go,” They urge again as the swirling black mass moves to the door.

“Go, living room, go” They haven’t been this insistent in a long time, and when he hears the living room he’s worried that something has happened to you. He relents letting a shadow creep under the door to go investigate the living room. He lets himself phase out for a moment, seeing through the eyes of shadow to where you’re peacefully sleeping curled on the couch. He exhales a sigh of relief.

Safe. You were safe.

The shadow, however, was much more interested in the way your bare legs were curled on the couch as it happily swirled around your thighs. Azriel tried to reign it back in, but it refused to budge, so eventually he relents and just lets it stay with you.

He indulges in a few more minutes of watching your breathing before dragging himself back into his body.

The fever was quickly becoming unbearable as he drags himself out of his sweat-soaked sheets and into a cold bath. It helps slightly, but the flames beneath his skin continue to burn him alive. The shadow he left slinking around your sleeping form has reported that you’re awake and heading into his bathroom now. He swears he can feel his fever spike higher the closer he gets to you. You greet him with a warm smile and a glass of cold water, and he notices the pink tint to your cheeks as you reach down to feel his forehead.

God, you smell so fucking good.

Az feels like he’s under a spell, or maybe he’s in a dream. You look like an angel, and Az wants nothing more than to drag you and that pretty nightgown right into the bathtub with him and-

Mother above he had to get a hold of himself right fucking now before he does something he would regret once this stupid thing was out of his system. It takes him a minute to process that you’ve been speaking.

“-have to go to the House, apparently there was an accident in training.” You look back at Az again and realize that he’s zoned out. “Az are you even listening to me?” His eyes snap back up to your face and shoots you a guilty smile.

“I’m sorry, I’m finding it very hard to concentrate at the moment.” You understand of course, and touch your hand to his head again. Sending out a wave of power to at least ease his fever for a while. Az immediately lets out a sigh of relief, sinking further into the bath as he feels his mind returning to him. His eyes seem more focused, so you tell him about your plans to go to the House again to deal with an accident that happened in training. You leave Az to finish his bath and get dressed before leaving for the House of Wind.

A couple of hours pass and Azriel feels like a prowling animal. His condition has only worsened since you left, and he’s had a very painful hard on that will not go away even after he’s relieved himself quite a few times. His shadows have been swarming in tense clumps and everything about this environment reads “Dangerous, stay away.” Azriel settles onto his bed again, palming himself through his leathers, for what seems like the 5th time his mind starts running as yanks his pants down.

He feels ashamed of himself when he pictures your mouth wrapped around his cock instead of his hand, but at the moment he can’t bring himself to care. His mind won’t stop no matter what he does. What would’ve happened if he pulled you into the bathtub this morning, his head between your thighs in that damn blue dress you wore last starfall. Him fucking into from behind after a night of him watching you dance at Rita’s. He’s never accepted your invitations to dance, he realizes, too afraid that his paper thin self control would snap.

He decides to say fuck self control, he would crawl from here to spring for a taste of you if that’s what you asked.

He hears his front door open as his shadows rush to investigate. He knows it’s you returning from the house of wind, and he moans when he hears you call his name. He hears you in the kitchen as he shoots himself up to go find you. His brain feels disconnected from his body and the only thing he feels is primal need. You’re turned around washing some kind of fruit in the sink. He’s ready to get down on his knees, and beg you to touch him.

And then he smells it.

You’re covered in the strong earthy scent that belongs to Cassian, and it sends his mind into overdrive. You don’t hear him creep up behind you, and he turns you around against the sink. All of the strong hard muscle is pressed up against you, and you jump as you realize that he doesn’t have any clothes on.

“Az,” you manage to stutter out “What’s wrong, what’s going on?” He growls against your neck when you say his name, grinding his hard length against you as you shudder.

“You smell like Cassian,” he snarls “and you’re mine.” He presses his lips against the curve of your neck, trying to drown out everything that smells like his brother. You moan as Az bites at the pulse point behind your ear.

“Azriel we can’t. Not now, not like this.” This is everything you’ve ever wanted, but you won’t take advantage of him like this.

“You want me,” Azriel counters. “I can smell you dripping for me.” He proves his point by grinding against you again as you let out a loud moan that Az wants to swallow. “I want you too, can’t you feel it?”

Your resolve is obviously cracking and the Spymaster can clearly tell.

“I always want you,” Azriel promises in a shocking moment of clarity as he runs his nose along the shell of your ear. “This is me, these are my feelings, but I just can’t help myself right now. Please, I need to touch you, and if we both come out of this and regret everything we never have to talk about it again.” Your resolve finally cracks, and Az practically purrs into your ear as you agree. Dragging your pants and underwear down in foul swoop, Az hoists you onto the counter and sinks to his knees before you.

“Been thinking about this pussy for years now,” Az mumbles between your thighs as he licks one strong stripe through your center.

He eats you like a starving man, licking and sucking at your core until your thighs are clamping around his head. When one of his fingers slips inside you, you scream his name so loud you think the windows ratte against their frame. He fucks you with his fingers until his finds the soft spot inside of you, and you’re cuming all over his tongue. Az laps up the mess he made before you’re yanking him up to get his mouth on yours. You moan at the taste of you on his tongue as his hands make quick work of the rest of your clothing. Az grabs around your thighs, hoisting you into his arms as the world falls away and all the sudden he’s throwing you onto the bed. You reach your hand down to cup Azriel before he pulls your hand away and shakes his head.

“No I want to finish inside you” Az presses more kisses all over your neck as he reaches down to pull at your nipples. You arch your hips off the bed as you grind yourself against him in an attempt to find some kind of relief. Az slowly eases himself in until he’s fully seated inside of you. He lets you have a few moments to adjust before he’s fucking into you at a relentless pace.

At this point the only thing you remember is Azriel’s name and the way he’s making you feel.

Az is close, his thrusts are becoming irregular and he just needs one final push. You reach across his broad shoulders and run your hand along his wing in a way that makes Azriel let out a roar. He reaches down and rubs at the apex of your thighs as you both crash through your orgasms together. He collapses onto the sheets beside you as his mind seems to be returning to his body. You can tell the drug is working its way out of his system. His burning hot fever lowering as you feel his whole body tense beside you. You squeeze your eyes shut.

You can’t bear to see the look of regret on his face.

Azriel clears his throat and says your name, clearly trying to get your attention. You pry your eyes open, and see the guilty look on his face.

“Az, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to take advantage of you. I'm so so sorry.” Az immediately looks confused as he violently shakes his head before putting a hand on your jaw.

“You have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart, I’m sorry I should have been able to control myself. I didn’t want it to happen like this.” Your eyes snap up to meet Az’s, hazel eyes tracking your face.

“What do you mean ‘happen like this’ Az.” Pink floods his cheeks as he looks away from you, mouth clamping shut. “Azriel.” He takes a deep breath and looks up at you again.

“I wanted to court you properly. Take you on dates, bring you flowers. The things that a good respectable male should do instead of just taking you to bed. I especially didn’t want to put you in a situation where you felt like you couldn’t say no.” Az runs his hand along your jaw again. “If you want nothing to do with me now I understand, but I’ve had feelings for you for a very long time.”

You can’t help but start laughing as Az looks up at you with a bewildered look on his face. “Why are you laughing?” Azriel questions, his eyebrows furrowing together. You lean over and press a kiss against Az’s lips.

“I have feelings for you too, I just didn’t think you felt that way for me.” Az shakes his head as he leans over to kiss you again.

“I still want to do this right. Take you on dates and such.” he mumbles against your lips, and your body starts to tingle from your toes to the tips of your fingers.

“I think that can be arranged Shadowsinger.”

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar imagine #smut #azriel smut

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not-neverland06 · 1 year ago

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Alone and Forsaken

one-shot

Joel Miller x fem!reader

A/N: I got COVID and haven't had a coherent thought in five days, so if this doesn't make sense it's not my fault, it's the virus. (Thank you @benkeibear for the dividers)

Summary: You're aren't anything to Joel Miller. You're a comfort, habit, and necessity. But you've never been anything more. It gets to you and you do what you always do, you run. When you make the permanent move to Jackson you've got no choice but to face the truth of what you are to each other.

WC: 9.4K

Part two here

You glanced down at Ellie, sweat was beading on her forehead and she was shivering in her sleeping bag. You glanced towards Joel, he was staring down at his gun, he’d been cleaning it for the past ten minutes.

“We’re right near Jack-”

“No,” his voice was rough, a command rather than an interruption. You sighed and went back to crafting some arrows for Ellie. “We’ll find some medicine tomorrow.”

You gave a noncommittal hum, you could hear him sigh from across the fire. You’d managed to clean out an old office today, you were camping out on the roof. Joel had determined the fog provided enough cover to not have to worry about others seeing the smoke.

He placed his gun down and leaned his elbows on his knees, you could feel his stare boring into you but you refused to give in. He wasn’t the only one who could be a stubborn bastard. “Y/N-”

“You’re acting like an old fool.”

He scoffed, “I’m not that old.”

“Joel,” you finally glanced up. “Ellie needs medicine, we’re right near your brother’s we might as well see if he’s got anything.” He stared at you for a long moment, not saying anything, until his shoulders slumped and he shrugged. He went back to cleaning his gun and you could tell he had conceded.

You’d made it to Jackson a year ago after the Firefly incident at the hospital. But it had been too much for all three of you. Years of killing, fighting to keep yourself alive, all on your own, it was too jarring to be in such a quaint little place.

You couldn’t wake up every morning to a “Howdy, neighbor!” like nothing had changed. There were too many people and it was too forceful a transition from fighting for every last resource to suddenly having everything willingly handed to you.

Eventually, when it became too tiring to keep fighting, you were sure you would move back to Jackson. For now, each of you enjoyed the freedom of not having to fight for anyone but yourselves. It was an occasional pit stop for supplies and a dose of normalcy.

You’d been on the road for about six months now, it was time to cycle back onto the path towards Tommy.

Good timing too, about two days ago Ellie had a sore throat and now she’s pretty much deadweight behind you both. “We’ll head out at dawn.” Joel stood up, nothing more to say, and took first watch. You tucked your arrows away and laid down, hoping to get some sleep before you were on the move again.

“How much further?”

“Another few miles,” Joel glanced over his shoulder at you. “How’s she doing?”

“I’m doing fine,” Ellie interrupted. But it was hard to believe her when her voice was a barely audible croak and she was leaning against you for support.

Joel sighed and glanced towards his right, there was a creek and a sunny patch of grass. He started towards it, dropping his pack on a rock and coming to a stop. “We’ll stop here for a break.”

“I said I’m fin-”

She interrupted herself with a cough that was so jarring you winced. It sounded like her throat was being ripped apart. When she finally caught her breath she reluctantly followed you towards the creek next to Joel. “I’ll check out the area, we shouldn’t be out here long.”

Joel nodded, standing guard next to Ellie while she wheezed trying to catch her breath. You moved away from them, going to check the surrounding area. Just when you deemed too much time had passed and were about to turn around you could feel something cold pressing into the back of your head.

“Don’t move.”

You slowly dropped your rifle to the forest floor, raising your hands in surrender as the person behind you pulled back the hammer of their gun. “Okay, it’s okay, we can talk about this.” The gun pulled back abruptly and then they were in front of you.

“Y/N! Damn girl, almost killed you.” Tommy tucked his gun into his holster and pulled you into a brief hug. You sighed and picked your gun back up.

“The hell are you doing this far out?”

“Been seeing a lot of infected, had to start patrolling out further.” Tommy peered around you, looking for something. “Joel with you?”

You nodded, leading him back to Joel. There was a brief reunion, nothing much considering they’ve been seeing each other a lot more than they used to. Tommy took Ellie on his horse back to Jackson, said it would be faster that way.

You and Joel still had a few more miles left, walking in silence side by side.

The silence, as always, had you contemplating your something with Joel. Because you wouldn’t say you and Joel were in a relationship. You’d both loved and lost too much in your life to ever truly be open to something like that again.

But you granted each other a softness you didn’t offer anyone else. There was an unspoken connection between the two of you that never went acknowledged. You glanced over at him, nudging his arm with your elbow. “More excited about coffee or a shower?”

“More excited about you finally showering.”

You scoffed in faux offense and shoved him lightly. His eyes crinkled, the crow’s feet becoming more prominent as he smirked at you. “Jerk. I smell amazing,” that was a blatant lie. Neither of you smelled great. It’d been about a week since you’d had a chance to really freshen up. Still, it was always fun to mess with him a little bit.

When you finally made it to Jackson you moved quickly through the inspection station, showing the medics your bite-free body and then headed towards Ellie.

She was already knocked out, whatever flu medicine they’d managed to scrounge up had done its job quickly. Maria led you to a house at the far end of town, you watched as Joel entered the one across from you.

You showered, enjoying the foreign feeling of fresh, hot, water running over your skin. You used the clothes Maria provided you, but after an hour of just wandering around the house you were starting to feel restless.

You had sat on the couch, stared at the black screen of the TV, and gotten back up about three times. You huffed out an irritated breath and headed towards the door. You weren’t sure where you were going but the quiet was starting to feel suffocating.

The pristine, cozy house, was overwhelming you with memories of a past best left forgotten. You opened the door-

“Why!”

“Shit,” Joel grimaced, offering you an awkward pat on the shoulder instead of an apology. You rubbed your forehead, pain radiating from where he’d hit you. “I was trying to knock, didn’t think you’d open the door.”

You sighed, glancing up at him and shrugging. “I can’t stand being in here. House is too…”

“Big,” he finished. You nodded, stepping outside and joining him on the porch. You both started walking, heading towards his house, the one that actually had chairs on the patio. Luckily the houses you were staying in this time around were farther away from everyone else.

People walking with their families was a distant noise that was barely discernible.

Families

The thought made you want to scoff. Families in the apocalypse, fucking ridiculous. “It’s peaceful here.”

“For them,” you glanced at Joel and he seemed to share the same thought as you. You’d changed too much, spilled too much blood to ever let yourself be fully comfortable in a place like this.

“Do you think you could ever be happy here?”

You glanced across the street at the large looming house you had just been in. “Not in there, it’s too big for one person.” He nodded, his fingers drumming a soundless tune against his jeans while he sat with you.

“Went down and saw Ellie while you were cleaning up. She’s making friends.”

You looked at him in astonishment. Hard to believe she was bedridden and being pleasant. He laughed a little and shook his head. “Well, I suppose they were interrogating her more than anything.”

You smiled slightly, “That’s more like it.”

He was looking off at the town, viewing the few distant people you could see. “She’s been asking to come back a lot more. I think she likes movie nights.” You sighed, knowing where this was going. You supposed the change was inevitable, you had just really hoped that you could push it off a little while longer.

You just weren’t ready.

“House is too big for me, too. Maybe it needs two people.” He was already looking at you when you turned to face him. His face didn’t betray anything but a type of tiredness that was set deep in someone’s bones.

You could say no, go off on your own. You’d make it a little while longer but the loneliness would get to you and eventually you’d slip up. Be torn apart or turned.

Besides, you weren’t ready to leave them, leave him. Not yet.

“Yeah, maybe.”

One Year Later

“Morning.”

You groaned at the sound of Joel’s voice, rolling over and covering your head with a pillow. He laughed and you could feel it reverberate through your back where his chest was resting on you.

“Come on, darling. It’s noon, you have to take care of the sheep today.”

You weren’t exactly verbal when you’re woken up abruptly. So you just grumbled-most likely something incredibly rude-under your breath and curled up into a ball.

Joel chuckled again, his arms wrapped around your waist and rolled you over. He dragged you out of the warmth of the blankets and directly back into the sunlit room. “Joel,” you groaned. “Five more minutes.”

“Nope.” He stood up, you still slightly in his arms. He half carried and half dragged you out of bed. You held onto the blankets and kept your eyes closed as long as you could. But when your feet touched the cool wood you conceded that your day had started. Whether you wanted it to or not. “Ugh, you’re a real piece of work. You know that?”

Joel let out a surprised scoff as you walked past him into the bathroom. You could hear him muttering under his breath about who was really the piece of work in this home. But he didn’t say anything to you, just joined you at the sink to brush his teeth.

Sometimes the normalcy was nice. You’d wake up and most days Joel was there next to you. Or he was making you both breakfast, or occasionally a note left next to a plate of food telling you he was out on patrol.

You spent most of your time together, sharing the big old house while Ellie slept in the converted shed out back. But days like today, where he tried to joke with you while he brushed his teeth but his voice was too thick with sleep and you couldn’t understand his accent, they made you ache.

Your heart would pulse painfully and you’d have to look away from him. You shared the same bed, lived in the same house. But you didn’t mean anything to him. You were just an old friend there to keep him warm at night.

You’re pretty sure you’d both been traveling together for so long that it was habit and necessity that kept you together more than anything. You wished, yearned for more from him, but you knew he could never give it to you. You knew it was an impossible ask.

Which made staying with him start to feel more suffocating. You feel like another part of his routine. Something akin to brushing his teeth rather than genuinely wanting you around, a chore. And you couldn’t handle that feeling anymore.

You were drowning in the comfort of Jackson. But you were too much of a coward to ever fully leave him. Too hopeful to let go of that one fleeting feeling that maybe one day you could be more to him.

Joel smiled at you as you made your way downstairs. “I got your lunch, you should probably head out now. You’re already late.”

You took the bag from him, thanking him and left for the sheep. And that night when your shift was over you’d look over at Joel’s house. You’d see him strumming lightly on his guitar as he waited for you and you’d slip out of Jackson’s walls. Unwilling to face another night of heartache that made you feel so ridiculous.

2 Years Later

“Y/N in here? Jesse’s looking for her.”

Joel glanced up from his guitar, he had been tuning it when Ellie’s head popped over his porch rail. “No, haven’t seen her in a couple days.”

He’d known being in Jackson was too much for you. Sometimes when he was getting a drink at the bar he could feel his skin crawling with how many people were surrounding him. His instinct to always be on guard, always be alert, was not easily lost after so many years.

There was the siren’s call of peace here in this town, but he still had to patrol. Still had you, Ellie, and himself to look out for. He could never afford to let himself fully settle into the calm reprieve of Jackson. It would end up screwing him over only when he was outside the safety of the walls.

So he sat, always a curling, burning feeling in his stomach as he tried to untense his shoulders. Join his brother for a ‘family’ dinner. Plaster on as friendly a grimace as he could when his neighbors would wave in the morning.

You were not the same. You didn’t bother with pretending to be happy for Ellie’s comfort. You patrolled near constantly, outside the walls more than you were in. Which set him even more on edge. You’d be gone for days at a time before mysteriously appearing in his bed one morning.

You’d smile then, as genuine a smile you could manage. Every time he’d ask where you’d gone and you would tell him you needed some air. He never asked what you did on the outside, where the bruises came from or what you’d done to earn them.

You would eat breakfast, listen to him strum on his guitar and in a few more days disappear again. He thinks one of these days, now that Ellie’s grown, he might just disappear alongside you. Ellie sighed, “What’s Jesse want with her?” Joel asked.

“He was gonna have her patrol with him today,” she had a shit-eating grin on her face as she propped her head in her hand. “I think he’s got a crush on her.”

Joel barked out a laugh, imagining Jesse pining after someone as disinterested as you. He’s sure he just admires you like he admires Joel. He looks up to you, probably just presents differently. “I’d love to see him try something,” he said through laughter.

Ellie shook her head, walking up the stairs and sitting next to him. “I’m pretty sure he’s terrified of her.”

He shook his head, “Rough combo.” Poor kid probably didn’t realize you weren’t mean, you just had a real bad resting face. “Ya know, I gotta head out soon. I can see if I can find her.”

Ellie perked up, crossing her legs as she leaned back in the rocking chair. “Would you?”

“Sure,” Joel went to place his guitar down but Ellie stopped him.

“What’re you working on?”

“Oh,” he glanced at the instrument and shrugged. He wasn’t sure, really. He’d had to step back from patrolling as much as he used to. The cold was fucking with his back and knees. Made it harder for him to be as fast as he should be. You liked to tease him about it, call him an old man, but he caught you rubbing your shoulder every time it was about to rain.

But without the ability to go on rides or kill infected, he was beginning to feel restless again. An uncomfortable thrumming under his skin that screamed at him to move, do something. So he screwed around with the guitar, tried to sing something, but nothing came out.

He passed it over to Ellie, she immediately propped it on her lap, strumming something soft. “Nothing really, just needed something to do.” He sat with her a little while longer, giving her pointers as she went over some songs she’d been writing.

He groaned as he got off the old rocking chair, saying goodbye to Ellie and heading to the stables. He was sure you were nearby, somewhere in a three mile perimeter of town. You’d been gone about four days, usually you’d be coming back by now.

Tommy was waiting for him as he got his horse. “Partnering up today.”

“Alright,” Joel rode up to the barred gate of Jackson, waiting for the doors to open. “Ellie wanted me to look for Y/N while we’re out here.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed as he glanced at him. “She still gone?”

Joel hummed an affirmative, brushing the hair out of his eyes in irritation. You’d have to cut it again, it had gotten too damn long. He felt like one of the stupid teenage boys in town, always blowing his damn hair out of his face.

“Where’d ya wanna head first?”

“She likes lurking around that old ski resort. We’ll see if she’s there first. If not, I’m sure she’ll pop up soon.”

They rode in silence for a little while before Tommy sighed. Clearly growing bored with the lack of conversation. Joel let his brother suffer, watching in amusement as he shifted back and forth in his saddle and tried to think of what to say.

He finally broke, showing Tommy some mercy. “Jesus, boy, spit it out.”

“It’s just,” Tommy paused, slowing down his mare to match Joel’s slow pace. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“What?”

“Her being out her on her own all the time. I mean, if Maria left as often as Y/N does I’d be losing my mind.”

“Well,” Joel sighed, “I’m a lot tougher than you are.”

Tommy scoffed, glaring at him. “Whatever smartass, I wasn’t screwing around, I want to know.”

“Fine. Don’t know why you’re so damn interested.” Joel shrugged, thinking about it before finally answering. “Yeah, I guess it bothers me, a little. I mean, I’ve known her a long time. I know she can handle herself, I’m not really worried about her dying or nothing. I’m more worried about her just deciding she wants to be gone for good and leaving.”

Tommy was quiet for a bit, leaving Joel uncomfortable. The answer wasn’t very deep. It didn’t share a lot, but it left him feeling a particular shade of vulnerable that had him shifting around. He rolled his shoulders back, focusing on the feeling of snow nipping at his cheeks rather than his younger brother’s nosy stare.

“I woudln’t worry about that.”

“Yeah,” Joel’s voice was curt, snappier than usual. “Why’s that?”

“Well, I don’t fucking know why, but she likes you. Likes Ellie, she might not love Jackson, but she wouldn’t just leave you guys.”

“Since when the hell are you an expert?”

Tommy smirked, “Since I got married.” Joel rolled his eyes, his brother had gotten entirely too smug when he married Maria. Suddenly, being married, made him an expert in anything and everything. He certaintly didn’t know a damn thing about Joel’s love life.

Or lack thereof.

Because you’d never talked about what you were, if you even were anything. That’s probably why it set him on edge so much when you left. You weren’t his to love or keep-honestly he wasn’t sure he was capable of that type of love anymore.

You were friends. Allies more than anything, which was arguably more important in this world. There was nothing to tie you to him or encourage you to stay.

He wasn’t deluded enough to believe you’d stay for Ellie. She was pretty much an adult now, and you’d never been a parent before. You didn’t know what the pain of losing a child was, she wasn’t as important to you as she was to him.

He had no damn idea what had kept you here for so long. But he knew you were getting restless and he didn’t know how to help.

They made it to the ski lodge and immediately leapt off their horses. There were screams coming from inside, screams that sounded a lot like yours. Joel ran for the doors, finger already on the trigger when the doors blew open.

You looked up at him in surprise, “Joel! What’re you doing out here?” He drew back, stopping himself from slamming into you.

His eyes scanned your form, you were covered head to toe in gore. The bandanna pushing your hair back had been a light blue, but now it was completely dyed red. Your jacket was in shreds. But you were still smiling up at him, then Tommy.

“Jesus H Christ woman,” Tommy muttered behind him.

You looked down at yourself, “Oh, yeah.” You sighed and once again were staring at Joel. “Fucking clickers, weren’t here before.”

“Are you alright? Were you bit?”

You waved off Joel’s concern like he was being dramatic. Like you weren’t standing before him covered head to toe in guts. “I’m fine.”

“Dammit,” you jumped slightly at the sound of his voice. He was getting a little louder, voice a little deeper as his frustration grew. He hated when you were this flippant about basic safety. “I told you to stop coming out so much, that we’d been-”

“Seeing more hordes. I know, sorry Joel, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’ll,” you trailed off, your eyes darting around before reluctantly landing back on his. “I promise I’ll stop leaving.”

Joel glanced behind himself, but Tommy had wandered back over to the horses. He was the opposite of subtle as he whistled, clearly giving you as much privacy as he could. Joel turned back towards you and took a step closer.

“I’m not telling you to stop coming out here completely. I don’t want to take that from you.”

You shook your head, stepping closer as you shivered. Joel figured your jacket was in tatters and you were probably freezing your ass off. He took off one of his own coats and draped it over you. “I’m being reckless, risking infecting you and Ellie by coming out so much. Besides, it’s starting to get a little lonely.”

“Well,” Joel gave you a brief smile, “maybe one of these days you should wake me up when you slip away. I’ll come out here with you.”

You grinned, “Think you’d be able to keep up, old man?”

He scoffed, slinging an arm over your shoulder and leading you back to his horse. “Could you?”

You laughed, “With you? Probably not.” He was just about to join you up on Sunny when all three of you heard a strange noise coming up towards the lifts. You had cleared out the resort. So, what could it be?

You hopped off Sunny quickly, pulling out one of your guns and following Tommy and Joel as they went back through the clicker infested hellhole you’d just cleared. The noises got louder, it sounded a lot like feet pounding up the mountain.

You made it outside, near the resort's old supply sheds. You were checking out the area, double checking you didn’t miss any infected. You were about to turn back around when you heard a scream.

You ran towards the source of the noise, watching as a woman was crushed under a swarming body of infested. The only thing separating her from them was a flimsy metal gate. Tommy rushed forward before either you or Joel could stop him. Grabbing her and dragging her out from the bodies.

“Fuck!”

“Tommy!”

Both of you wanted to scream at him. That was such an unbelievably stupid thing to do. She’d had at least fifty infected on top of her, there’s no way she wasn’t bit. But beyond that she was a stranger, you had no idea if she was a piece of shit that would lead raiders right back to Jackson or not.

You didn’t have time to scold him, though, the swarm was screaming, racing towards you all. You ran back into the resort, heart racing as you slammed the doors to the lift closed behind you. “Tommy!” Joel called out, “Help me move this!”

They worked on wheeling a broke down lift towards an open window. You turned towards the hulking woman, “Got a gun?”

She nodded and you tossed her some ammo, “Good. Don’t fucking miss.” You raced throughout the station, trying to keep infected off Tommy and Joel while they moved the lift. But there was only so much you could do. Your rifle had jammed and you had used most of your supplies taking the clickers out earlier.

And these bastards were fast, they seemed faster than normal. Maybe the cold irritated them or something.

You screamed, taken off your feet as a runner threw itself at you. You rolled over, shoving your gun in its mouth and pulling the trigger. Brains splattered onto your face and before you could even roll it off of you there was another one leaping at you.

Before it could sink its teeth in your neck there was the warm feeling of blood trailing down your chest. Joel stood over you, machete buried in the infected’s back as he yanked you to your feet. He didn’t let you walk, grabbing you and practically sending you flying towards Tommy.

You scrambled up the lift and through the window, running towards the horses and mounting Sunny. You grabbed Tommy’s mare and rode the horses back to the open window. You watched the others spill out, keeping an eye out for any more infected and letting Joel hop up in front of you.

Tommy and the woman shared a horse as she screamed out instructions to head towards the old mansion at the top of the mountain. You were too busy keeping infected away from your group to fully realize where you were going until it was too late.

You were already through the gates of the mansion, infected being set on fire behind you when you grasped the situation at hand.

You’d just wandered into some stranger’s camp, nearly completely empty on ammo, battered and tired. You didn’t know who she was or who her people were. Joel and Tommy seemed to be realizing that too, each of them tensing up as they got off the horses.

“Thanks for the help back there. I’m Abby.”

Joel offered you a hand down, you hopped off Sunny and glanced around the garage. You were definitely fucking outnumbered and they had way more ammo than you.

You hid slightly behind Joel, taking in the amount of people and trying to gauge how many guns were in the garage. Your eye snagged on a lone shotgun on a workstation and the bullets surrounding it.

“I’m Tommy, this is my brother Joel…” Tommy’s voice trailed off before he could introduce you. Instantly everyone in the room had turned to stare at Joel, and every single one of them looked hostile. Like he’d punched each of them in the face at one point.

And honestly with the amount of people he’s screwed over you wouldn’t be surprised. Still, this was not promising.

Joel tensed up in front of you, nudging you slightly behind Sunny. You ducked behind her, hoping to go unnoticed by the rest of them and praying that Sunny didn’t buck out at you.

Abby sucked on her teeth. She stared at Joel for a long minute before nodding her head towards the door and heading up the stairs. “Joel,” you whispered.

He shook his head, subtly waving you back into place as he was forced to follow the others up the stairs. You watched them herd him and Tommy out, one of the men in the back checked his ammo was loaded and you felt your throat seize in panic.

Shit shitshitshitshitshit

Okay, this turned into a clusterfuck so insanely fast. You waited until every set of footsteps was a distant echo to move out from behind the horses. You were nearly out the door when you double backed for the shotgun.

You heard a shout from upstairs, your head whipping towards the open door. You raced up the stairs, “Tommy!” It was Joel shouting, panic lacing his voice.

You can never say what happened next exactly. You made it up the stairs, heard the sound of a shotgun being cocked and you’d never run that fast in your life.

The door to the room was open, all you could see was Abby with a gun in hand, pointing it towards Joel. Your finger was on the trigger before you could even aim properly. The shot missed, hitting the wall behind her, grazing her back slightly.

But it caused enough of a distraction, Joel wrenched the gun from her grasp, using the butt of it to knock her out. You shot at one of the men pinning Tommy down, it caught him in the side and he dropped to the ground. Crimson pooling out around him.

The room went quiet, each of them staring at their dead comrade. “You cunt,” the woman leapt at you, knife raised in the air. You didn’t notice her protruding stomach until you had pulled the trigger. Her legs flew out from under her, nearly completely blown off from the shotgun blast.

There was a primal sound of pain. One you’d heard many times in your life. It came from two directions, the pregnant woman bleeding out on the ground and the man who was now flying at you.

He knocked you to the ground. You wrestled for control of the shotgun, his hips pinning your pelvis painfully to the floor. You groaned out in pain and panic, shoving all your weight into the gun, bringing it up to catch him in the jaw. His head knocked to the side and you shoved him off of you.

Shots were firing all around you, different screams and insults flying past your head. You were tuning in and out, ears ringing as you wrapped your arms around the man’s neck. You pulled until it snapped. When you were done you swiped his pistol from his holster, stepping over the twitching woman below you.

There were only three people left when you walked back into the room, Tommy and Joel disposed of them quickly while you grabbed some rope and tied up Abby. She was still knocked out, a bad bruise forming on her head. You can imagine her day was going to get a lot worse when she woke up and saw the carnage around her.

It was a slaughter, each of her friend’s lay brutally destroyed at her feet.

But, it was their own damn fault. They shouldn’t have tried and fucked with you all.

“Are you okay?” It was your turn to fuss over Joel. He had clearly been their target. It had to have been someone you’d screwed over, Joel had screwed over. But the list was too long and you’d never seen this woman before.

Joel nodded, but there was blood soaking through his jacket. You ignored his protests, ripping the jacket off and inspecting the wound. It wasn’t anything too bad, a bullet must have just skimmed his bicep. You wrapped it up pretty quickly, then you let your head fall to his chest.

He chuckled slightly, his hand coming behind you to rest on your back. “You okay?”

“I was scared.”

Your voice was quiet, quiet enough that you almost hoped he had missed your small confession. “What?”

His hand had stilled before it moved up your back and lightly cupped your neck. He tilted your head back so you had to look at him, had to make eye contact. “I was scared.” You huffed out, nearly ashamed at presenting yourself like this to him.

You didn’t get scared, the entire time you’ve known him you’ve each been fighting for your lives. This wasn’t anything new. But something about this really got to you. It felt more final this time. “They were after you, Joel. Had a gun pointed to your head.”

“I always have a gun pointed at my head, darling. Comes with the territory.” You rolled your eyes and stepped away from him, ignoring the way his hand lingered on your cheek for a moment before it dropped to his side.

The door behind you all flew open and all three guns were pointed at the intruder. Ellie raised her hands and stumbled back in shock at the sight of the dead bodies around you all. “Holy shit. What the fuck happened?”

You sighed and lowered your gun, Tommy and Joel doing the same. “Ellie, head back to Dina,” you instructed. You were going to have to get some information from Abby, you were sure Joel didn’t want her to see the methods about to be used.

Ellie opened her mouth to argue but Joel cut her off. “Do as she says, Ellie. Head back to the others and say everything’s fine and that we’ll be back soon.”

She seemed like she wanted to stay, desperately. Instead she conceded and closed the door behind her as she left. You, Joel, and Tommy each shared a look before you got to work.

Abby was tied up in a chair, you’d wrapped her up more than you would have with anyone else, mainly because her biceps were the size of your head.

When she finally woke up, she immediately started screaming. You’d moved the bodies of her friends, propping them up in front of her so they were the first thing she saw when she woke up.

Tommy had left for Jackson, made sure no one would suspect why you and Joel were gone for so long. Now you were sitting on a table behind Abby while Joel started. “What are you doing here?”

“Fuck you,” she spat.

Joel sighed and tried again, “Does anyone else know you’re here?”

Same response. It happened a few more times, she was unphased by anything Joel did to her. Just telling him to fuck off more times than you could count. You got sick of it after a while.

You hadn’t had to torture anyone in a couple years, you were hoping to just get this over with as quickly as possible. You stood up and Joel let go of Abby’s chair, backing away from her.

“My partner,” you started, “prefers brute force to get the answers he wants. Me,” you stood in front of Abby and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m a little more creative.”

You dug the knife into her skin, peeling back a layer or two of epidermis and ignoring the way she screamed. Twenty years ago, you might have felt guilty for this. Now, she’d tried to hurt Joel, she’d brought this on herself.

Five pulled nails and a lot of skin later she finally squealed. No one knew they were out here. They were stationed in Seattle and wouldn’t come looking. Joel had killed her father, the doctor from the hospital, and she wanted revenge.

You rolled your eyes, pointing out the hypocrisy of her actions. How many fathers had she killed on her way here to get to Joel. How many lives had she taken to protect someone she loved. When she tried to argue you slit her throat and dragged the bodies to be put in the pile of burned infested.

“Damn.” You sat behind Joel on Sunny, watching the bodies go up in flames. He turned her around, heading back towards Jackson. “What a way to start the day.”

The bed was empty when Joel woke up. He felt surprised, usually you gave him a few days before you left again. But before he could linger on the thought for too long the door to the bedroom was opening and you were walking in. Your back was to him, you were carrying something in your hands.

When you turned around you frowned when you saw him already waiting for you. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“What are you doing?”

You swatted him away when he stood and tried to help you carry the tray in the room. You put it on the nightstand and shoved him back in bed. He could have resisted, pushed against you, but he let himself fall as he chuckled at the determined look on your face.

You hummed and shrugged your shoulders, placing the tray in his lap. “Thought I’d bring you breakfast.” He glanced down, a plate with a stack of pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Most importantly; coffee.

“Where the hell’d you get all this?” You didn’t answer, just had a mischievous little smirk on your face while you tidied up the room. Joel caught your wrist as you passed him, he tugged you into bed next to him, careful not to spill the tray. “Come on, help me out with all this. Can’t eat it all on my own.”

He could, and would do so eagerly. But it had been a while since he’d eaten breakfast without you rushing out the door. And for once, he was feeling domestic without the crushing weight of guilt turning the taste of your pancakes bitter in his mouth. He wanted to enjoy this, however long it lasted.

You didn’t bother arguing, picking off some of his food while you both sat in contented silence. Eventually you broke it, sitting at the end of the bed so you could face him while he sipped on his coffee.

Lord, he had missed the taste of caffeine.

“Where are you working today?”

“Promised Bob I’d help him out with shoeing the horses today. You?”

“Helping Maria with fixing up that new classroom in school.”

“You're not leaving? You've been hangin’ around here a lot.”

He knew instantly he shouldn’t have opened his mouth.

What once had been easy silence instantly turned tense. The warm sun that had filtered through the blinds was right in his eyes and causing a headache. The sheets were scratchy and that blank look on your face was oppressive.

Your easygoing smile, one he hadn’t seen in a long time, dropped from your face and you shifted uncomfortably on top of the comforter. “Yeah, guess you're right.”

“Didn’t mean it like-”

You stood up, patting his leg with an awkward stiltedness and moved to the closet. “I should head out, promised Maria we’d get it done by end of day.”

He knew what he said had been wrong, but he wasn’t completely sure what about it was so wrong. He watched you leave without another word and sighed to himself, getting out of bed and forcing himself from the comfort of the house.

He’d only had a moment, one singular moment, where he’d finally been able to relax for once. And he didn’t feel restless, or anxious, or guilty about it. He’d felt at ease, a feeling so foreign it was halfway through the day before he’d finally been able to identify it.

He was in the middle of cleaning Sunny’s hoof and he’d nearly gotten kicked in the face with his distraction.

But he didn’t have any sort of epiphany over what could have possibly upset you so much.

A normal person, not you apparently, would be completely unbothered by Joel’s question. Because that’s all it was. A question, a simple, understandable, inquiry about why someone as flighty as you had been in one place for so long.

Still it stung. He’d said with a tone like ‘Why the hell are you still in my house?’ And in a crazy, uber-paranoid-lady way, it was confirmation of what you were to him. You were a daily task, necessity, and required comfort, but you were not something permanent. And you’d deluded yourself into believing you were something more. Your own fault, not something to place on Joel’s shoulders.

Still, the bitter taste of rejection was a hard one to get off the tongue.

“God, I’m insane.”

“What was that?”

You glanced up at Maria, momentarily having forgotten you weren’t alone. “Um, nothing, sorry.” You let yourself get lost in the repetitive motion of painting the walls of the classroom. Using old stencils they’d found or created to do a row of ABC’s and numbers along the perimeter of the wall.

How is this what you turned into?

You’d gone from a deadbeat smuggler who’d kill without a second thought to someone painting an elementary classroom worrying about boys.

Well, men, you supposed. Seemed unfair to put Joel in the same category as someone like Jesse.

Even though you were sure that Jesse would never make you feel like a chore instead of a person.

Annnnnd… new low reached, considering Jesse as a viable option for dating. Damn, you needed a hobby or something.

Around noon Tommy stopped by, he had sandwiches from Seth and you didn’t want to think about the lengths he’d gone through to get them from the cantankerous old asshole.

“So,” there was a certain tone of voice Tommy would get when he was about to meddle in someone’s business. You stopped midchew to stare at him in suspicion while he smirked. Maria eyed her husband and simply sighed, resigned to let him interrogate you. “You and Joel.”

You huffed, swallowing the rest of your food and throwing the sandwich down on the plate next to you. “This was a bribe wasn’t it?”

He laughed, “Yep.”

It was interesting to you how different Joel and Tommy were. Joel’s accent was gruff, commanding, most times hard to understand. Especially when he was pissed off. Tommy had a lightness to him the both of you lacked. You assumed it came from Jackson, he’d been here a lot longer than either of you. And he’d also found Maria.

He also didn’t know how to butt out. A skill Joel, thankfully, understood. “Just curious about you two. You know, Joel’s seemed a lot happier in Jackson now that you’ve been around longer than a week.”

“Well, I think he’s getting a little sick of me.”

Tommy frowned, “Why’s that?”

You shrugged, taking another bite before answering. “I don’t know, just something he said this morning.”

“What’d he say?”

“Damn, Tommy, I can’t remember. It was how he said it, I guess.” You huffed and glared at him, “Look we’re not your new version of the bachelor, alright. Butt out.”

Maria opened her mouth, probably to scold you for being a bitch. Tommy held up a hand and shook his head. “Alright, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“That’s it?” You asked, watching as he finished his sandwich and wiped his hands on his jeans.

“Yep,” he leaned over to kiss Maria on the cheek and gave you a strong pat on the back. “That’s it. Message received, I’ll just butt out now.”

Both you and Maria watched him go, a suspicious look on both of your faces as he went. Tommy never gave up that easy, ever. “You know he’s up to something, right?”

You glanced over at Maria, sighing as you picked up your paintbrush again. “I know.”

The answer to what exactly he’d been planning came three days later.

Despite yourself and your feelings of rejection, you’d stayed in Jackson. You’d been paranoid since the run in with Abby and her people. It was dangerous for Joel to stay in one place, word would spread and old enemies would know where to find him.

That thought plagued you every time you glanced at the door out of Jackson. If something happened while you were gone and pouting over something petty, you’d never forgive yourself.

But you did put some distance between you and Joel. Staying in the guest room instead of his, not bringing him breakfast like some wife from the fifties. You’d put up boundaries where there weren’t any before, determined not to be used as some sort of daily comfort.

And if Joel had anything against these new unsaid rules, he didn’t react. Which kind of pissed you off more. Trust, if there was a therapist you would see one. You’re aware your train of thinking isn’t what most would consider healthy.

But there isn’t, so you just force yourself to push it down everyday and keep going. Like you always have. It wasn’t until you got here that rejections or emotions meant anything to you. This place was making you too damn soft.

Tommy dropped by one night and invited both you and Joel over to his for dinner and Joel had accepted before you could say no.

There wasn’t much you could bring over, you couldn’t cook and didn’t feel like burning down the kitchen trying. So you stole some flowers from the garden of the mean old lady that lived next to you while Joel kept watch.

Maria and Tommy’s house wasn’t too far from you and Joel, but god, walking next to him you’d think they lived a mile away.

“You know, foods gonna be gone by the time we get there.”

Joel huffed out a short laugh. “We got time. Feel like you’re always tryna rush off lately.” You didn’t have an answer for him, not one that wouldn’t reveal why you didn’t want to be alone with him. So you just shrugged.

You could feel him staring at you, eyes drilling holes in the back of your head, but you refused to say anything. “How’s the guest room?”

The question caught you off guard, you stumbled over your own feet for a second before turning around to face him. “Uh, fine. Bed’s smaller, I guess. But I don’t have a giant hogging the sheets,” you attempted to smile at him. But he didn’t seem to find anything funny about your response.

His brows were furrowed, lips set in a pissy sort of line. You finally caught on to the undertones of anger in his voice. The special sort of gruffness that only comes out when he’s pissed off.

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Just wondering.” And that was it. He brushed past where you’d stopped walking to face him. His shoulder clipping you as he did and was walking off to Tommy’s, leaving you behind.

You scoffed at the attitude. Not entirely sure what you’d done to deserve it and followed after him. The both of you finished the walk in angered silence, neither one of you aware why the other was so angry. You just were.

When Tommy opened the door the smile on his face quickly turned into a smirk. “There you two are. Trouble in paradise?”

You shoved the flowers into his chest and stormed past him. “For Maria.”

You heard Joel mutter the same thing you’d told Tommy a few days ago. “Butt out.”

Maria was in the kitchen, finishing off whatever meat she’d decided to cook for you all tonight. You’d gotten so used to the QZ’s strange square ration bars, sometimes you struggled actually identifying real food.

You helped her set the table, ignoring the stares of both men on your back and were about to sit down… When Tommy literally dove under you to force you to sit next to Joel.

You glared at him while you circled the table, throwing yourself down into the chair and sighing at the self-satisfied look on his face. “Your brother’s insufferable.”

Joel grumbled but didn’t say anything. So you were getting the silent treatment now. Really?

Fucking child.

“Alright, dinner is served.” Maria placed the roast on the table and took a seat beside Tommy, smiling at you all. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care how tense it was on your and Joel’s side.

“Thank you, Maria.”

You forced a smile, not one to let Joel be the only one with manners. “Yes, thank you, Maria.” She hummed, carving into the roast and taking a slice for herself and Tommy. You reached for the knife and fork but Joel beat you to it.

He cut off a portion and dropped it down on your plate, the mash potatoes spreading slightly at the impact. You sighed, muttering a belligerent thank you and took a bite.

Couldn’t help himself could he? Always the Texan gentleman.

It was infuriating.

For a few minutes there was only the sound of metal scraping porcelain. And you felt bad, honestly, Maria and Tommy invited you both over for a nice dinner and you were pouting like toddlers.

You weren’t even sure why you were upset with each other!

Obviously, you were still stinging from Joel’s use of your “relationship.” But you had no clue what had crawled up his ass and died. “Can you pass the bread?”

You looked up from your plate, staring at the side of Joel’s head. He continued to shovel food in his face. “Joel?” Nothing, not even a twitch.

You reached across from him, purposefully shoving your arm in front of him so he couldn’t eat the bite on his fork and grabbed the bread basket. “Ain’t got manners, now?” He growled at you, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Says you,” you hissed back. This was devolving into childish anger so quickly. And you didn’t know why!

God, what was his problem?

“So,” Tommy started and you were startled out of your glaring match with Joel. “Y/N, you know Bob?”

You slowly turned away from Joel and nodded. “Yeah, the horse guy.”

“Yeah, he’s been asking about you.” Tommy took another bite of food and shrugged, “Told him you were free this Saturday.”

You ignored Joel’s fork clanking loudly against his plate and shook your head. “No I’m not. I’m patrolling with Joel.”

Tommy waved you off, “Nah, don’t worry about it. You need to get out more anyway. Socialize some.”

“Tommy,” Joel started. His voice was low, an unspoken warning lacing it. “You need to stop meddling.”

“What? You’ve got a problem with a little date, Joel?”

You glanced between the two, hidden in their stares was a secret language only the brothers were privy to. There was a tense silence before Joel was picking his fork back up and eating, refusing to make eye contact with anyone at the table.

“Not interested, Tommy. Thanks though.” It would feel wrong going on some blind date like you weren’t currently pining over the man you lived with. Besides, you were past the period of life where you wanted to ‘date.’ About one apocalypse past it.

“Too bad, you’re going.” You opened your mouth to argue but both Tommy and Maria were leveling you with glares that allowed no room for negotiation. Since when did Maria join him in these ridiculous schemes?

“We’re having our harvest festival this weekend,” Maria stated. “Bob will accompany you.”

The rest of dinner was spent with Tommy and Maria blabbering away while you and Joel fumed in your seats. You didn’t know his reason but you were pretty pissed off you were being forced into a date.

One, you were planning on skipping the stupid fucking harvest thing. It was a waste of resources and you didn’t understand why they clung to old traditions so desperately.

Two, you didn’t want to go on a date. The only man you wanted to be with was sitting next to you and currently taking his anger out on a piece of bread.

You let your mind fade into the background. Your eyes tracked the movements of Joel’s hands while he ate, no longer hearing Tommy and Maria. Until you blinked and dinner was over and Joel was waiting for you by the door.

You nearly jumped at how loudly Joel slammed the door closed. You toed your boots off, watching him throw his jacket on the kitchen chair and reach for the bottle of whiskey on the counter. He ignored you, heading up the stairs and into his office.

You took in a deep breath, trying to shake off the funk from the last couple of days. Slowly you made your way up the stairs, knocking on the doorframe to his office.

He was just sitting in his chair, staring at the guitar on his desk. There was a glass of amber liquor in his hand, but he wasn’t making any moves to drink more. “Wanna talk?”

“‘Bout what?” He placed the glass on the table and picked up the new strings for his guitar.

“I don’t know,” you walked in and sat down on the stool next to him. “You’ve seemed off since we left for Tommy’s.”

His finger drummed across the denim of his jeans. He stared through the window, the lights of Jackson casting a warm glow over his face.

If you tilted your head just right it softened him. The scars faded, the only wrinkles you could see were smile lines and you could see a shadow of the man he once was. The father, brother, contractor, someone long lost to the cruelties of time and the world outside these walls.

“A date,” he scoffed. “My brother never knows when to stop, does he?” You didn’t bother answering. You know he wasn’t talking to you, just thinking out loud.

You propped your elbow on his desk, resting your head while you waited for him to collect his thoughts. He let out a long sigh, his eyes on the guitar while he addressed you.

“You drive me insane, you know that?”

“I’m aware.”

He cracked, his lips lifting slightly at the corners. Barely a smile, but it was better than nothing. “I think I’ve got you figured out. Think I finally understand how this,” he gestures between the two of you, “works. Then you disappear, or bring me breakfast, or you suddenly leave and start sleeping in another bed and I’m lost all over again.”

You shifted in your seat, fiddling with your nails, trying to figure out what he meant. If either of you were confused, it was you. “What’re you talking ‘bout, Joel?”

He sighed and finally looked at you, “Talkin’ about us. I’m talking about how infuriating you are.”

Your brows furrowed, scoffing slightly at the tone of his voice. He was still angry, for no damn reason. You stood up, ready to leave, when his hand wrapped around your wrist. “Didn’t say I was done, sweetheart.”

You gasped when he tugged you down. You landed in his lap, his legs spreading to accommodate you. “Joel what’re you doing?”

“Something I’ve been putting off for too damn long.”

Fireworks don’t go off somewhere in the distance and the world doesn’t stop. But your heart races and your body tingles when you taste the whiskey on his lips. You become hyper aware of each individual strand when his hand comes up to bury itself in your hair.

And when your lips part to let him in you swear you’ve never felt like this before. Your body is working like you’re running from something, getting ready to fight something off, but it’s the first time in a while your mind is completely calm.

You shift, your legs wrapping around his waist as a blanket of calm drapes itself over you. It rushes through you like a raging river, shutting everything unnecessary down.

You don’t worry if you’re too out of practice, not having kissed anyone in a long while. You don’t think about if you're too stiff on his lap. You run your hands over his chest, squeezing the muscles of his arms and then letting them delve into his hair.

At a certain point, you’ll have to breathe. You’ll have to talk about what this means for the two of you. But for right now you’re content, at ease, happy to just live the rest of your days in this moment.

Kissing Joel Miller like there’s nothing outside these walls, no other purpose but to be with him.

part two

TAGLIST: @chrysanthemum-00 @marimarvelfan

#joel miller x reader #tlou x reader #Game!joel x reader #Joel miller #tlou #the last of us x reader #The last of us

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jetii · 8 days ago

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Event Horizon

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Pendulum

Chapter WC: 11,047

Chapter Tags/Warnings: author does not understand the Force and is doing whatever the hell she wants (threatening), angst

A/N: There are so many things I could say about this chapter but none will adequately capture the process I went through to get this out of my head and onto the page. I apologize in advance for the heavy handed use of metaphor. And for the everything else.

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Coruscant, 21 BBY

You wake to the sound of birds and a bright stream of sunlight shimmering through your window, and you immediately roll over and shut your eyes. You've only slept for a handful of hours, and the idea of waking up is almost too much to bear. But the sunlight continues to shine through the blinds, and the birds continue to sing, and the more you try to ignore it, the more awake you become.

With a resigned sigh, you force yourself to sit up, the blanket pooling around your waist. The movement causes the room to spin, and you blink hard, waiting for the sensation to pass. When the world finally settles, you look around the room and find the bottle of water and the pills on the bedside table.

You swallow the medicine and gulp down the water, and once the pain has faded and the nausea has passed, you push the covers aside and get to your feet. It’s not the worst hangover you’ve ever had, but it is the worst one you’ve had in months, and the thought alone is exhausting. You're not even sure how you made it back to the Temple from the barracks without falling over.

Your usual morning routine takes longer than usual, but by the time you step out of the refresher and dress, the fog has lifted from your brain. Once you’re presentable, you grab your comm link and check for messages, and you smile to yourself when you see the few you and Rex had exchanged last night.

You: Made it back to the Temple. We only stopped to vomit once.

Rex: Thanks for letting me know. Rex: We?

You: Booker. He’s going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow.

Rex: [Image attached] Rex: Echo too. Rex: He says hi, by the way.

You: I’m impressed he’s still coherent.

Rex: That’s why I made him ARC trooper.

You’d fallen asleep after that, and now, in the light of day, you can't help but feel a little silly. The conversation was short, and yet, it had left you smiling, and the warm, tingly feeling in your chest is back.

It's strange, the difference a single day can make. Yesterday, you were determined to distance yourself from him, to forget your feelings and put a stop to the budding romance before it could start. Now though, all of those feelings are back, and they're stronger than ever.

The mere thought of Rex sends your pulse racing. And the idea of him loving you in return, of a relationship or a future together, is almost too good to be true. You have no doubt that the reality is much less pleasant, and that the situation is far more complicated, but the hope inside of you refuses to go away.

A small voice in the back of your mind tells you to stop this, to not risk it. But the other voices, the ones that want Rex, and love him, and crave a relationship with him, are louder. And right now, the voices telling you to move forward are the ones you're listening to.

But as much as you want to run off and find Rex, to talk to him and sort this out, you need time to think. There are too many questions and too many uncertainties, and the last thing you want is to make things worse. And there's always one thing that helps you think.

You: Still up to spar this morning?

Booker: can’t Booker: dead

You roll your eyes and type a reply.

You: You promised.

The minutes tick by, and the three dots appear, disappear, and reappear, before finally disappearing altogether. When the screen remains blank, you sigh and shove the comm link into your pocket. Looks like you'll be finding something else to occupy your time.

The halls of the Temple are quiet when you step out of your room. The early hour and the weekend mean that the place is deserted, and you make your way to the training room with only a handful of encounters. A couple of younglings are in the hall outside the library, their eyes wide as they watch you walk by. You give them a small wave, and they bow their heads and scurry away, their voices fading down the corridor.

When you reach the training room, you're surprised to find it just as silent as the rest of the Temple. It feels strange, wrong even, to be here and not have the place buzzing with activity. Even the lights seem dimmer than usual, the sunbeams streaming through the windows a poor substitute for the usual overhead lamps.

You used to crave the silence, doing everything you could to avoid the bustle and noise, but the quiet is uncomfortable now. After so many months at war, surrounded by people and chaos, the emptiness seems strange. Almost lonely.

You shake your head and step further inside, and a quick scan of the usual spots tells you that the training room is, in fact, completely empty. There are no signs of life, no indication that anyone has been here today, or will be for a while. Just you, the dust, and the silence, the tidiness a stark contrast to the chaotic energy of the last battle.

The last battle. You glance down at your hands, your eyes tracing the scars on your palms. The memory of the power that coursed through you, the heat and the energy, makes your fingertips tingle.

You don't understand what happened. This thing inside you doesn’t seem to want to leave, no matter how much you want it to, no matter how much meditation or positivity or mindfulness you try.

You’d foolishly thought it would fade after your conversation with Rex on the Resolute, that coming to terms with your emotions and your past would help you. And for a while, it had seemed to. You'd been calmer, more at peace, and the anger had seemed easier to manage. But the last battle, the sight of your men in danger, had caused it to come back in full force.

Maybe it will never go away. Maybe this thing will stay with you forever, no matter how hard you try to suppress it. Maybe it's who you are now. A Jedi with a temper, a warrior with a short fuse, a general with an unsteady hand. A person with too much anger, too much sadness, too much of everything.

It's not a comforting thought.

The last time you were here, you’d sparred with Obi-Wan. You held your blade to his chest and nearly killed him. And he forgave you, because that's what Obi-Wan does. But neither of you had ever forgotten how close you came to falling. How easy it would've been for you to snap and lose control.

How easy it still could be.

The memory makes your chest tighten, and you press a hand against your sternum and force yourself to inhale. You didn’t do it, you remind yourself, and you didn’t kill Dooku as Obi-Wan had feared you would. You didn't chase after him and try to strike him down, or fall prey to his false promises.

Instead, you'd turned your back on him and left.

A small part of you regrets the decision, but the larger, more rational part knows it was the right choice. It's what a Jedi would do. And as much as you don't feel like it sometimes, you are a Jedi. A Jedi Master. You made a commitment to the Order, to the Force, and to the galaxy. And you can't give up on that just because the anger is hard. Because the pain is too much. Because the memories are too raw.

You can't lose control.

With a sigh, you make your way towards the center of the room. You don't bother grabbing a weapon, and you don't bother stretching, either. You hold out your hands, palms out, and take a deep breath.

Dooku said he could teach you how to control the Force, to master the rage and the pain inside you. You’re not sure if he was lying, if it was simply an attempt to trick you or rile you, or if there is a truth to his words. Regardless, his offer weighs heavily on your mind, and no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to shake it.

You’d rather die than be his apprentice, his anything, but...you'd be a fool not to consider his words. Not to at least entertain the possibility of learning how to control the darkness within you. To turn it into something useful, or at the very least, make it bearable.

Obi-Wan would say no. That much is certain. He'd say that the anger and the rage aren't worth it, that you can't learn how to use the Dark Side without becoming a monster. And he's right. But that doesn't change the fact that Dooku was right, too.

This rage is a part of you. A part that can't, and won't, go away. The question isn't if it will come back, but how often, and how strong. How far will you go, and what will it take for you to stop? Will the next time be the time that you cross the line and fall into the darkness, or will it be the time after that, or the time after that? When will it finally become too much, and what will you lose in the process?

Rex can't be the reason you stop. Or the cause of your downfall. You can't drag him into the middle of this, can't force him to be the person who stops you from going too far. He can't be the person who pulls you back, or the person who holds the leash, or the person who saves you. Because you know he would, no matter the cost. You can't let that happen. He deserves better.

And so, you'll have to figure this out on your own. Somehow. Some way.

You close your eyes and inhale slowly. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Your shoulders drop, the tightness in your jaw and the ache in your spine easing slightly.

You need to learn how to control the rage. You can't keep living like this, and you can't keep putting those around you at risk. And if you can learn how to use it, if you can use the anger to your advantage, well...the benefits could be limitless.

The things you could do. The battles you could win. The Separatists would have no chance. Countless lives would be saved. And no more of your men, your friends would die. Rex would be safe. He'd live.

He deserves to live.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Your shoulders drop, and the weight on your chest fades slightly. The darkness in your mind, the pain and the fear, eases, and you feel yourself slip deeper into the Force. It’s a whisper of a song, a melody just out of reach, and the closer you focus on it, the clearer it becomes. It wraps around you, enveloping you in its warmth, and for a moment, everything is calm. Everything is peaceful.

Yaddle had always taught you to be the current, the wind, the water. To follow the pull of the Force and let it guide you. She told you to flow, to dance, to let go.

And yet, there are times that the pull is stronger than the current, the need greater than the need to let go. Those are the times you need to fight, to claw, to hold onto the threads with every fiber of your being. The times that the only option is to bend, or break.

Those are the times you need to win.

The muted hum of the Force grows louder, the vibration becoming a song you’ve heard a thousand times before. But there’s a discordant note in the melody, a sharp edge that hadn't been there before. The longer you listen, the more pronounced the discord becomes, and the harder you have to strain to hear the music beneath it.

It doesn’t feel like a gentle breeze or a quiet river. Instead, it feels like a torrent of water, a wave ready to crash down on unsuspecting ships. Like the moment of silence between the lightning and the thunder, the anticipation heavy enough to make the air tremble.

This is not the Force you know.

This is something else entirely.

And so, you don't let go. You grasp the threads and pull, tugging and yanking and ripping until the current changes direction, the waves rising higher and higher. Until the Force is yours, the power filling your veins, and the rage is under your control.

You need to break free of it. You need to tear the power apart, destroy the thread and shatter the current, and find the other side. And once you do, once you have control, you can turn it into something more. Something stronger. Something that doesn't hurt.

You hold the darkness in your hands, and for a moment, you can feel the lightness. You can feel the power, the potential, the possibilities. And with a single thought, a single spark, you could have it all.

This is what it's supposed to feel like.

It's the feeling of the first bite of food after days without eating. Of the first drink of water after wandering the desert. Of the first kiss after a lifetime of loneliness.

It's a feeling of rightness, of certainty, of power.

It's a feeling that terrifies you.

Your eyes fly open, and the training room disappears.

Instead, you’re standing in the courtyard in front of the Great Tree, the sunlight shimmering through the golden leaves. You close your eyes and breathe in, the scent of the flowers surrounding you, the air cool and sweet. You can hear the birds singing, the distant hum of traffic, and the soft murmur of conversation. And behind it all, the low buzzing of the Force. It's a familiar melody, a calming song, and you let the tune wrap around you, soothing and soft.

You watch as a leaf floats down from the Great Tree, drifting lazily through the air until it hovers right in front of your nose. You grab for it, but it floats just out of reach, and you let out a frustrated sigh and reach again.

"Come on," you huff, your arm stretching out. "Stay still."

It moves faster than you expect, dancing through the air, and no matter how hard you chase it, you can't quite manage to catch it. You move forward, your steps clumsy and awkward, and you can hear Yaddle laughing.

"Be the leaf," she instructs. "Feel the currents and the breeze. Be the leaf."

"I am," you groan. You stumble and nearly trip over a root, your fingers missing the leaf by a fraction. You growl and chase after it. "It's not fair. You're cheating."

The accusation only seems to amuse her more. You glare at her and chase after the leaf again, and again, and again. It floats just out of reach, hovering in front of you before moving higher and further until finally, it's lost in the branches.

You stop running and look down at Master Yaddle, pouting, and she lets out another laugh. She shakes her head and holds out a hand, and the leaf returns, fluttering down and landing gently in her palm.

"You will catch it," she tells you. She moves closer, and you instinctively kneel to meet her eyes. Her small, three-clawed hand rests on your shoulder, the touch warm and comforting, and the gesture is enough to make the pout fade.

"When?" you ask, and she tilts her head, her expression thoughtful.

"When the time is right," she answers.

She holds out her hand and the leaf floats from her palm into yours. You watch it spin and dance, the sunlight glinting off its edges, and the sight is breathtaking.

"But I'm ready now," you protest. "I can catch it now. I know I can."

Yaddle closes your fingers around the leaf, squeezing gently before letting go. Her hand rests against your cheek, her eyes soft and full of warmth, and she smiles.

"Not yet," she tells you, her voice quiet. She pats your cheek, and the wrinkles deepen around her mouth as she grins encouragingly. "One day, my Padawan, but not yet."

You get to your feet and look down at the leaf, and with a deep breath, you let it go. The breeze catches it, and it spins and dances through the air, disappearing into the branches of the tree. The world seems to shift underneath your feet, the sun becoming brighter and the sky bluer.

You blink and look around the courtyard, but Yaddle is nowhere to be seen. You turn in a circle, searching, but there's nothing but the flowers and the trees and the grass. It's just you, alone.

"Master?" you call out, your voice echoing through the courtyard. "Master, where are you?"

The birds sing their songs, the breeze rustles the leaves, and the sunlight shines through the branches. The world is bright and vibrant, but the longer you stand there, the more you feel the emptiness around you.

You're not sure how long you wait, or how many times you call her name before you hear her.

"I am here," she says quietly. "I am always here."

Her voice comes from somewhere behind you, and you whirl around, searching desperately for the source. But the clearing remains empty.

"Where are you?" you ask. Your eyes scan the flowers and the leaves, the ground and the sky, but there's nothing.

"I am everywhere," she tells you. Her voice is soft and gentle, the words almost a whisper. "I am with you."

A sudden breeze blows through the clearing, the wind causing the trees to sway and the flowers to ripple. The shadows seem deeper than they were before, the light dimmer, and a shiver runs down your spine. You wrap your arms around yourself to ward away the chill, and the warmth seems to seep from your bones, the cold settling deep inside.

"I'm afraid," you confess, the words tumbling out. "I don't want to lose control. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to go too far."

There's a pause, the silence thick and heavy, and the fear builds inside you, threatening to choke you.

"What do I do?" you plead. Your hands are clenched into fists, the knuckles white, and the trembling intensifies. "I don't want to hurt anyone. Not again. Please. I can't...I can't hurt them."

Your voice cracks on the last word, the plea breaking into a sob, and the tears spill down your cheeks. Your chest tightens, and a choked gasp escapes your throat. You can feel the darkness clawing at the back of your mind, the rage and the fear swirling together.

In front of you, a leaf falls. It drifts to the ground, landing at your feet, and you stare at it, unable to move. The golden surface seems almost iridescent, the edges sharp and glittering, and the longer you look at it, the more the darkness seems to creep in.

You force yourself to look away, back up to the Great Tree. You watch as another leaf falls, then another and another, the leaves spinning and dancing, until a shower of them is raining down. They fill the clearing, covering the flowers and the grass, and the sight is so beautiful that it's almost painful.

Your hand reaches out to try to grasp the nearest leaf, but the current is too strong. Your fingers slip past the surface, passing through it as if it was made of smoke, and you pull back with a frustrated cry.

"Master Yaddle!"

You're not sure where she is, or how to reach her, but the desperation inside you is overwhelming. You spin in a circle, the panic rising, the world seeming to tilt beneath your feet.

"Master, please!" you beg. "I don't understand! What do I do?"

The world seems to shift around you, the colors fading, the darkness creeping in, and you watch helplessly as the leaves are swept away. The flowers wilt and shrivel, the grass turns brown, and the tree is nothing but a skeleton, the branches bare and brittle. The darkness surrounds you, enveloping you, and the weight of the despair is almost unbearable.

You close your eyes, hoping to block it out, but the vision remains, the darkness filling your mind. You can feel the tears rolling down your cheeks, and a sob escapes your throat.

And through it all, the words echo.

"I am always here."

The darkness seems to shift and twist, the shadows turning into something else. You open your eyes, blinking against the sting, and the world has changed. The courtyard has vanished, and in its place is a crumbling cityscape, the buildings reduced to rubble and the streets littered with bodies. The air is filled with smoke and ash, and the screams of the dying fill the air.

A battle. You're in the middle of a battle.

And above you, a shadow looms.

You look up, and a choked cry escapes your throat. Streaking across the sky like shooting stars are hundreds of missiles. Their paths arc towards the planet, each one leaving a trail of destruction and chaos behind it. The sight is almost impossible to comprehend, the sheer volume of firepower sending a wave of nausea through you.

You close your eyes and press a hand against your mouth, trying to keep from vomiting. When the sensation passes, you take a shaky breath and force yourself to look up again. The missiles are still coming, still falling, and the realization that there's nothing you can do hits you with an almost physical force.

This is beyond you. This is beyond anyone.

Fire falls from the sky, each impact sending shockwaves through the air. The ground trembles, and the buildings shake, and the screams become louder and louder until they're all you can hear. The pain is everywhere, the agony so intense that it threatens to overwhelm you. You can feel it inside you, in every fiber of your being, and you can't imagine the pain it must be for everyone else.

You can't imagine the agony.

There are hundreds of voices in your head, a cacophony of pain and despair, and the emotions are so raw, so visceral, that it's a struggle to even stay standing. You can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but feel the suffering of the dying. It's a feeling so deep and so painful that it threatens to consume you, and the only thing keeping you from drowning is the thought of what will happen if you give in.

The thought of what will happen if you lose.

You look down and watch as cracks appear in the ground, fissures spreading outward in every direction, toppling buildings and swallowing people whole. The planet seems to tremble beneath your feet, the very core shuddering and shaking. You can feel the tremors vibrating through your bones, a pain that threatens to split you in half.

And underneath the sound of the screams, you can hear a voice calling your name.

It's a familiar voice, and it fills you with a sense of comfort that's staggering. But there's something else. Something that seems to pull at you, a tug on the edges of your awareness.

"Come home."

The words echo through the destruction, and the pull becomes stronger, more insistent. You can feel it inside you, a yearning so powerful that it's almost a physical pain. The pull seems to come from everywhere and nowhere, the voice wrapping around you and whispering in your ear.

It's a voice you recognize. A voice you love. A voice you trust.

"Please," the voice begs. "Please, come home."

The pull is irresistible, and before you can stop yourself, you give in. You follow the voice, allowing it to drag you down and down and down, until the world around you changes.

The pain and the anguish fade, the screams quieting and the cries silenced. You can feel the heat of the missiles against your skin, the flames and the ash burning and choking you, but the sensation is muted. It's as if you're watching the battle from far away, removed and distant, and the only thing that matters is the voice calling your name.

The voice begging you to come home.

"Rex," you whisper. The name is barely audible, the word more a sigh than anything else, but it's a relief. He's here. You're not alone.

The pain of the battle, the devastation and destruction, seems to lessen. The world falls away until all that's left is the two of you. An endless void stretches out in every direction, and the only things that exist are his voice and the pull inside you.

The voice becomes a face, the words a body, and Rex appears before you. He's standing in the middle of the darkness, the only solid thing in the void, and the sight is like a breath of fresh air. But the look of desperation on his face is terrifying. There are tears streaming down his cheeks, and the agony on his face nearly brings you to your knees.

"Come home," he begs. His voice breaks, the words raw and hoarse. "Please, come home."

He reaches out to you, his hand trembling, and his fingers brushing your cheek. The warmth of his touch seems to burn, the sensation so overwhelming that it's almost unbearable. But it's the look on his face that hurts the most.

"Please," he whispers.

He's not real. He can't be real. But the pain on his face is real. The agony in his eyes is real. And the way he looks at you, like you're the only thing in the world, is real.

The voice and the pull and the need. It's all real.

This isn't a dream. This isn't a nightmare. It's something else. Something worse.

You can't bring yourself to move, can't bring yourself to speak, can't bring yourself to do anything but stand there. You know instantly that this isn’t a man burdened by the loss of a battle or the pain of a war. This isn’t a man grieving a friend, or a brother, or a comrade.

This is a man who has lost everything.

The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, and the breath leaves your lungs.

He's in pain, and it's your fault.

Rex's shoulders sag, and his eyes fall shut. His fingers trail along your jaw as his hand drops, and he lets out a shuddering breath. Another tear rolls down his cheek before he forces his eyes open to meet yours.

You feel it the moment his heart breaks.

It's as if a knife has been driven into your chest. The pain is sharp and intense, the ache so deep that it's a struggle to draw a breath. The agony is like a living thing, a monster clawing its way through your ribcage and tearing at your heart. The world seems to blur and darken, and the only thing that's real is the agony.

It's an agony that has no end. It's a torment without reprieve. It's a torture without mercy.

And it's all because of you.

You want to scream, to cry, to fall to your knees and beg for forgiveness. But you can't do any of those things. Because the look on his face tells you that he already knows.

Rex's hand shakes as he lifts his blaster, and the weapon seems to hover between you, aimed directly at your chest.

"Please," he whispers again.

The single word holds a lifetime of pain. His eyes meet yours, and you see the resolve there, the acceptance. The determination. And despite the sorrow and the despair, you can see the love in his gaze. The love that he's been trying to hide for months, the love that has grown despite his best efforts.

And it's the love that will kill you.

Rex loves you, and he's willing to do anything to save you. Even this.

You don't know what to say. There's nothing you can say.

You love him too. You've loved him for months, and you will continue to love him for the rest of your life. No matter how short that might be. No matter how much time you have left.

You don't want him to suffer. You don't want him to carry the weight of your death. But more than anything, you don't want him to have to choose between you and himself. Between his duty and his heart. Between what's right and what he wants.

Between his brothers and you.

"Do it," you whisper. "Save me."

His hand shakes, the barrel of the blaster inches from your chest, and you can see the conflict in his eyes. He's hesitating, and the last thing you want is for him to hesitate.

And so, you do the only thing you can.

You lift your hand and place it over his. The metal is warm against your skin, the barrel pressed against your sternum. Your fingers close around his, and you squeeze gently.

His eyes meet yours, and despite the pain, the tears, the sorrow, you offer him a smile.

It's not the ending you'd hoped for. It's not the ending you'd planned. But it's the ending you're willing to accept. Because if it means saving Rex from the pain, the suffering, the loss, well...that's a price you're willing to pay.

He loves you, and you love him. And that's the only thing that matters.

With a final sigh, you close your eyes and squeeze his hand.

"Okay," you whisper.

The blaster goes off.

When you come to, the first thing you notice is that you're lying on something soft and plush.

A bed. You're on a bed.

It takes a moment for your vision to adjust to the light. When it does, the sight of the Temple is a relief. The familiar walls, the dimmed lighting, the muted humming of the Force. It's exactly where you're supposed to be.

The second thing you notice is the dull ache in your chest. It's a small pain, almost unnoticeable, but the discomfort is still there. You lift a hand and touch your sternum, and the memory of the blaster shot comes rushing back with a sharpness that's staggering.

A blaster shot. Rex.

No. No. No. It's not possible.

You sit up quickly, pushing past the pain and stumbling out of bed. Your legs are shaky, and the movement sends the world spinning, but you force yourself to keep moving toward the window. You need to see. You need to know.

Your hands fist around the curtains, and you yank them open. Sunlight streams through the window, blinding you momentarily, and you blink hard against the brightness. When the spots fade and your eyes adjust, you look down at the courtyard, and your breath catches.

Everything is the same. The flowers are blooming, the leaves are turning, the sun is shining. Speeders and ships are flying overhead, dots against the bright blue sky. The air is warm and sweet, and the Force is calm. Nothing has changed. Nothing is different. Everything is the way it's supposed to be.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips, and you close your eyes. The nightmare was just that. A nightmare. Nothing more.

Except...it had felt real. Too real.

Your heart pounds, and you grip the curtains tighter. You can still feel the pain in your chest, the phantom ache of the blaster shot. And the way Rex had looked at you, the despair in his eyes, the pain in his voice. It's not something you can forget.

You don't want to forget.

Because it's not just a dream. It's a warning.

Your eyes open, and your gaze falls on the Great Tree. The leaves are dancing in the breeze, and the sunlight is glinting off the golden surface. But the sight is no longer calming. It's ominous. It's a reminder.

You take a deep breath and let the curtain fall. The world is calm, the Force still, but the dread lingers.

“You’re awake.”

You jump and turn, your eyes falling on Obi-Wan. He stands just inside the doorway to the bedroom, his arms folded across his chest. He's dressed in his tunic, his robe draped over a nearby chair, and you realize that you’re in his quarters.

"Obi-Wan, what are you—" You try to step toward him, but the room spins, and you reach out for the window sill, your balance unsteady. He's by your side in an instant, his hands gripping your upper arms and keeping you upright.

"Careful," he warns. He keeps his hold on you until the dizziness passes, and you manage to regain your footing. When he's satisfied, he releases you and steps back, his eyes scanning your face.

The concern on his face is unmistakable. You know him too well, and after all the years of friendship, you can read the worry in his expression. But it's the fear in his eyes that's the most startling.

You open your mouth to speak, to assuage his worries, but the words don't come. You're not sure what to say, not sure how to explain. Not sure if you even can.

Instead, you take a staggering step towards him, and before you can stop yourself, you're wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close. He tenses, clearly startled by the gesture, but after a moment, he returns the embrace. His arms are tight around your shoulders, and he presses his cheek against the top of your head.

"You're okay," he murmurs, his voice low. "It's over."

The words send a wave of relief through you, and you cling to him tighter, your hands clutching the fabric of his tunic. You inhale slowly, the air filling your lungs, and the pain in your chest fades slightly. It's not gone, but it's bearable.

It wasn't real.

Slowly, the trembling in your limbs fades, and the pounding in your chest subsides. The anxiety and the fear fade, replaced by a dull ache and a sense of exhaustion. You sigh and rest your forehead against his shoulder, allowing the last of the panic to drain away.

Obi-Wan pulls away, his hands settling on your shoulders.

“How are you feeling?" he asks.

You think about the question, the memories of the vision still fresh in your mind. The pain and the suffering. The fear and the desperation.

"I'm okay," you answer, the words barely audible. "Just tired."

He nods and releases his hold on you, taking a step back. He gives you a once-over, his gaze traveling over your face and down your body, and he frowns.

"What happened?" he asks as his eyes return to yours.

"I..." You trail off, the memory of the vision sending a shiver through you. You wrap your arms around yourself and shake your head. "I don't know."

You close your eyes, trying to recall the events leading up to the vision. You remember waking up, alone, and walking through the halls of the Temple. You remember reaching the training room, and...the rest is a blur. You don't remember falling asleep. You don't remember anything. Just the darkness and the pain and the fear.

And the blaster shot.

Your fingers touch the spot where the blaster would've hit you, and a flash of memory comes rushing back. The image of the courtyard outside, the golden leaves of the Great Tree shimmering in the sunlight, and Yaddle's voice.

Her voice.

The memory is faint, barely more than a whisper, and you can't quite grasp it. But it's there, like a shadow at the corner of your vision, and you can feel it. You can hear her.

And for a moment, the pain in your chest eases.

Obi-Wan's hand squeezes your shoulder, and you open your eyes and meet his concerned gaze.

"I found you in the training room," he tells you, his voice quiet. "You were unconscious, and I couldn't wake you. I had to carry you here."

He pauses, his brow furrowing, and his gaze becomes more intense. "What were you doing there?"

The question sends a jolt through you, and you take a step back, breaking contact.

"I..." You pause, your mind racing. Your arms wrap around your torso, and you take a shaky breath and shake your head. "I can't remember."

You're not sure if it's a lie, or if the words are true, but either way, it's a poor answer. Obi-Wan's expression changes, his gaze sharpening, and his jaw clenches.

"Try," he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You hesitate, and he leans closer, his eyes never leaving yours. You can see the determination there, the stubbornness. He's not going to let this go, not until he gets the answers he's looking for.

"I was...meditating," you begin slowly, the lie rolling off your tongue. "I was trying to connect with the Force. I...wanted to understand."

His brow furrows, his gaze never wavering.

"Understand what?" he asks.

"Myself," you admit. "The anger and the...pain. I wanted to understand."

His gaze softens, and he sighs, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He looks away for a moment, his eyes focused on the floor, before his gaze finds yours again.

"I think I know," he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. He sits on the edge of the bed and motions for you to do the same. You settle beside him, and he turns towards you, his gaze searching, his hands twisting in his lap. "You felt the darkness. Didn't you?"

You look down at your hands, at the scars on your palms. The memory of the battle, the fight with Dooku, the vision, the blaster shot, it all swirls in your mind, flickering past your vision like a broken holo.

You close your eyes, the pain in your chest throbbing, and you nod.

Obi-Wan shifts, and you open your eyes to find him staring at the wall, his brow furrowed. His expression is contemplative, and the lines around his eyes seem deeper than they were before. There's a sadness in his gaze, a pain that goes beyond the physical, and his mouth is set in a thin line.

"What are you thinking?" you ask.

He shakes his head, his expression turning pensive.

“What happened on that planet? With Dooku?” he asks. His tone is gentle, but the words send a wave of anxiety through you. “You never told me the details.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, the memories flashing through your mind. The anger. The rage. The darkness. It had been overwhelming, terrifying. It had taken every ounce of strength and willpower not to give in. And even though you'd won, you'd come close. So close.

Too close.

You shake your head.

“We fought. He nearly killed me, and Rex and Jesse saved the day,” you say, your gaze fixed on your hands. “There isn’t much else to tell. I'm not sure why you're bringing this up now."

"Because I've been thinking about what happened on the Resolute," he tells you. His voice is quiet, and there's an edge to it that hadn't been there before. A sadness. An anger. "How convenient it was for a hyperdrive malfunction to lead you to the exact place Dooku was hiding."

“He wanted to kill me,” you counter. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the frustration bubbling up. You know where he’s going with this, and you can’t help but feel defensive, protective of your secret.

"No." Obi-Wan shakes his head. "He wanted to turn you."

The words land like a punch to the gut. He isn't saying anything you don't already know, but hearing it out loud, the implications and the potential...it's too much. You stare at him, speechless, and he stares back.

"What are you accusing me of?" you finally manage.

He's silent for a moment, considering his words carefully. His eyes are dark and troubled, the lines around them deepening, and he sighs.

"Nothing," he answers quietly. "Not yet."

"Not yet?" you echo, your tone incredulous.

"When I found you in the training room, there was something wrong. The Force was...out of balance," Obi-Wan tells you. His gaze never leaves yours. "There was something dark. Something wrong."

You open your mouth to speak, to deny, to defend, but he continues before you can get a word out.

"I know you've felt it too," he says, his voice softening. "I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it."

You look away, unable to meet his gaze any longer. The truth of his words stings, and you can feel the guilt and shame rising up, threatening to drown you. He's right. You have felt the darkness. You've seen it, felt it, and tried to ignore it. And now you’re trying to hide from him. But he's not going to let that happen. He's not going to let you hide.

"Obi-Wan," you try again. Your voice is barely more than a whisper, and you can't seem to look him in the eye. "I don't—"

"Don't lie to me," he cuts you off.

His voice is sharp, the words like a slap to the face. You flinch, and his expression softens.

"Did Dooku tell you how to access the darkness? How to harness it?" he asks quietly.

"No," you say immediately.

"Are you sure?" he pushes. "Because you seem to know more than you're letting on."

You hesitate, and his expression hardens. You look down at your hands, the scars seeming to burn. The darkness inside you pulses and writhes, the rage and the pain simmering just beneath the surface. It's a struggle to keep it contained, to not let your emotions win out. And Obi-Wan sees it all.

"Tell me the truth," he demands.

You swallow hard and look up at him. His gaze is intense, the blue eyes piercing, and you can't bring yourself to lie to him again. You can't hide anymore.

"I've always had it," you confess, your voice hoarse. "The anger, the darkness. I've always had it, but now it's worse. I'm more connected to the Force than ever before, and the power is incredible, but it's overwhelming."

You pause, taking a deep breath, the emotions churning inside you.

"It's getting harder and harder to keep it under control," you admit quietly. "I can't ignore it. I can't pretend it doesn't exist. And I can't let it go."

His eyes never leave yours, and you can see the understanding, the acceptance. He doesn't blame you. He doesn't hate you. But he's worried. You can see the concern in his eyes. He's scared for you. Scared of what you might do.

"Dooku tried to make me think he could help me, but I'm not stupid," you tell him, your voice stronger now, more determined. "I can feel the darkness, and I can see the effects it's having on the galaxy. The war is tearing everything apart, and the violence and hatred are everywhere. I don't want that for myself."

"Good," Obi-Wan says simply.

"But..."

You pause again, your throat tight, and you force yourself to continue. You need to say this. You need to confess the truth of what happened on that planet, and you need him to understand what's at stake.

"I nearly lost control," you whisper. You can feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, the memories flooding back. "When we fought, it was like I could see every weakness, every fear, and I wanted to destroy him. I wanted to end his life."

"And you didn't," Obi-Wan counters softly. "That's what matters."

You shake your head.

"I could have. I came so close," you mutter. You let out a bitter laugh. "Or I would've died trying, anyway. If Rex hadn't been able to convince me..."

Your voice trails off as you recall the memory of his words, the plea, the desperation. The same words mirrored in your vision, and the understanding that comes with them.

You could have destroyed him. You could have embraced the darkness and brought about his demise.

The thought is a sobering and horrifying reminder of just how close you'd come to losing control. Of how much destruction and devastation you could have caused. Of the power you possess. And of the danger that comes with it.

"That's why you have to stop," Obi-Wan urges, his tone gentle, but firm.

"I am trying," you say.

"Not hard e—"

"No," you snap.

The word comes out sharper than intended, and you take a deep breath, trying to calm the rising tide of emotions. You close your eyes and count backwards from ten, your jaw clenched tightly, the anger and the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. The last thing you need is another argument. Another opportunity for the darkness to take hold.

When the feeling subsides and the urge to scream passes, you open your eyes.

"No," you repeat, more calmly this time. "I am trying. I'm doing everything I can to resist the darkness. I'm meditating and training and trying to strengthen my connection to the Light. I've let go of my need for revenge, and I've been forgiving and compassionate, and none of it is working."

You look away, focusing on the far wall, and you force yourself to keep talking. You have to explain. He has to understand.

"Every time I think I've finally gotten a handle on things, something happens and it slips out of my grasp," you continue, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Like on Bothawui. I didn't lose control. Not completely. But I could feel it. The anger. The hatred. And the part that scares me is how natural it feels."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows rise in surprise at that admission, but he says nothing, letting you continue.

"It's like a reflex," you say quietly. "Whenever someone attacks me or threatens someone I care about. It's just there. Waiting for an opportunity."

Your hands clench into fists, and your nails dig into the palms of your hands. The pain is a welcome distraction from the emotions roiling inside you, and you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

"That's why I'm trying so hard," you say, your voice calmer now. "I'm trying to control the darkness, not embrace it. There has to be something, some kind of balance I can find."

There's a long silence, and the only thing you can hear is the beating of your heart, the blood rushing in your ears, and the steady inhale and exhale of your breathing. The anger has faded, but the fear remains, the terror of the vision, the nightmare, coming back in full force.

"There's something else," you whisper, your eyes opening to look at him. "Something you should know."

His brow furrows, but he doesn't interrupt, allowing you to continue.

"When we fought Dooku," you begin hesitantly, the memory of the battle still fresh in your mind, "He said something."

"What did he say?" Obi-Wan asks, his voice low.

“He said things…things I know now not to be true, but they made sense at the time," you admit, the words coming out in a jumble. "That the Order is corrupt, the Senate, the entire Republic. That the Council is using the war to increase its power and influence. That they betrayed me, kept things from me, used me."

"And you believed him?" Obi-Wan asks, disbelief coloring his words.

"Yes," you answer. "For a moment, I believed him."

You pause, the guilt and the shame rising up, threatening to overwhelm you, but you force yourself to keep talking. He needs to know. He has a right to know.

"When we fought, he tried to get me to join him. And he seemed like he knew all the buttons to push, all the things I wanted to hear," you explain quietly. "He was good. Too good. Like he knew exactly what to say and do."

"What are you suggesting?"

"That Dooku's been watching me," you tell him. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable reaction. "That he's been planning this since the start."

You close your eyes, expecting anger, denial, rejection. But none of those come.

"I know," Obi-Wan's voice breaks through the silence, and your eyes fly open, meeting his steady gaze.

"You what?" you ask, shocked.

"I know," he repeats. "And I agree."

"How? How do you know?"

"Master Windu and I have suspected as much," he admits quietly. "The Separatists have always been aware of our strengths and weaknesses. We've tried to keep the details hidden, but there are times it's difficult to keep information quiet."

You stare at him in shock, the revelation leaving you speechless.

"Dooku has spies in the Senate, in the GAR, and likely in the Jedi Temple as well," Obi-Wan explains. "The fact that you were attacked during a classified mission was a concern for the Council."

"I...Why didn't you tell me?"

"We weren't sure how you'd react," Obi-Wan answers truthfully. "It seemed prudent to investigate further."

It takes a moment for the implications to sink in, the realization that the entire Council has known and has been keeping the knowledge from you a struggle to comprehend. You take a shaky breath and close your eyes again, the anger and the betrayal washing over you in waves, but there's something else underneath it. Something darker. Something more dangerous.

The seed of doubt, planted by Dooku and watered by the Council's secrecy, is taking root, and it's not going to let go easily.

"If the Council has known that I'm being watched and targeted by Dooku and his allies," you begin slowly, "Then why have I been kept in the dark? Why haven't they told me?"

Obi-Wan sighs, his shoulders sagging slightly, and he looks down at his hands clasped tightly in his lap.

"We were worried you would act impulsively," he answers after a moment, his voice low and resigned. "That you would be reckless, and the consequences would be dire."

"Well, you were wrong," you snap. You stand up from the bed and turn away from him, pacing the length of the room. "I figured it out on my own. And I kept my head down and focused on the mission and the war."

"You did," he concedes, his eyes following your movements. "And that's admirable."

"But you don't trust me," you continue, not giving him a chance to say more. "The Council doesn't trust me."

"We trust you," Obi-Wan says softly. He stands and steps toward you, his hand resting on your shoulder, forcing you to stop and turn towards him. "I trust you."

"You don't."

"I do," he argues, his voice firm, the conviction in his words ringing true. "You are the most important person in my life, and I trust you implicitly."

"But the Council—"

"The Council is worried," he admits quietly. "They are concerned for your safety. And their concern is warranted. You are a powerful Jedi, and you are a valuable asset to the Republic.”

You close your eyes, and the images flash across the backs of your eyelids, the vision replaying itself over and over again.

The blaster shot.

Rex's grief. The destruction you're capable of causing. The death and the despair.

The way he looked at you.

It was a warning.

A warning of what's to come.

"You are strong," Obi-Wan tells you quietly. His hand slides down your arm and grips your hand. "You are capable of incredible things, and the Council recognizes that. But you are also human, and you are vulnerable, and they are worried that Dooku will use your strength and your weaknesses against you. Especially after your outburst over your investigation into Master Yaddle's death."

Your eyes fly open at the mention of Yaddle's name. The memory of her voice is still echoing in your mind, and you can't help but wonder if this is somehow connected. If she's reaching out to you, trying to warn you. Trying to stop you from destroying everything and everyone around you.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan adds after a moment. "I wish the Council could have been more forthcoming. But the fact remains that you are an asset in the war, and they can't afford to lose you."

The words sting, but there's no malice behind them, no anger or resentment, and you know that he's telling the truth. That the Council is scared of what might happen if Dooku and his allies managed to turn you away from the Light.

You are an asset.

A weapon.

A tool.

Nothing more.

"I understand," you say softly, the resignation in your voice matching his. You pull away, the distance between the two of you seeming like a gulf, and you shake your head. "And I don't blame them."

Obi-Wan gives you a small smile, and he reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "That's a relief."

You grab his wrist before his hand can fall back to his side, and you hold his gaze, the intensity in your eyes matching his.

"But I need to know that you believe me," you say quietly. "That I'm doing everything I can to resist the temptation."

His expression softens, and his fingers twitch, but he doesn't try to pull away. He nods and squeezes your hand gently.

"I believe you," he murmurs.

The words send a wave of relief through you, and a bit of the weight on your shoulders lifts. It's not much, but it's something.

You let go of his wrist and step away. Your hand drops to your side, and you turn towards the window, looking out at the courtyard below, the leaves dancing in the wind, the sunlight glinting off the golden leaves.

"What happened in the training room…” you start slowly.

Obi-Wan's arms are folded across his chest as he comes to stand next to you, and he leans against the windowsill, his eyes on the courtyard. "What is it?"

"I...had a vision," you confess. "Or a dream. I'm not sure. But it was bad. Really bad."

You can see his brow furrowing out of the corner of your eye, and he turns towards you, the worry in his gaze unmistakable. "Tell me."

You hesitate, the words stuck in your throat. You can still feel the weight of Rex's grief. The pain and the anguish. The way he had looked at you. And the way he had pointed the blaster at your chest and pulled the trigger.

Your hands grip the sill tightly, the stone biting into the skin of your palms, and you tell him everything. Yaddle. The destruction of the city. The darkness. Rex. The blaster shot. Everything.

"It felt so real," you finish. Your voice is shaking slightly, and you can feel the tears threatening to fall, but you manage to keep them at bay. "I could feel the pain. I could feel the fear."

Obi-Wan's silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he speaks.

"Do you think it's a vision of the future?"

"I think it's a warning," you reply. "It has to be."

He nods.

"I agree," he says quietly.

The words send a shiver through you, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It's not a relief, not really, but it's a validation of sorts. A confirmation that what you're feeling is real, and that it's worth fighting against.

"And I think..." you begin hesitantly, the memory of the blaster shot still fresh in your mind. "I think Rex is the key."

"The key?" he asks.

"In the vision," you explain. "Rex is the only person who can stop me. He's the only person who can save me."

"From yourself," Obi-Wan concludes, understanding the implication of your words immediately. At your nod, his brow furrows, and his hand comes up to stroke his beard thoughtfully. "Are you sure about that?"

You hesitate. Are you? You think back to the way Rex had pleaded with you, the desperation in his voice, the way his hand had shook as he'd pointed the blaster at your chest. The same way he pleaded for you to leave Dooku behind and live instead of killing him and dying yourself.

It's everything you'd feared and more. Rex doesn't just hold your leash. He holds your life in his hands. If you can't control the darkness inside you, the anger and the rage, the potential for destruction, Rex will have to be the final defense. He will have to be the line in the sand.

You can't let that happen.

"Yes," you finally say. You swallow hard and look down at your hands, the scars standing out starkly against the skin. "I'm sure."

Obi-Wan sighs and shakes his head.

"Well," he says. "That complicates things."

"It does," you agree quietly. You can feel the anxiety and the fear rising up, the dread settling in the pit of your stomach. But you push it back, forcing yourself to stay focused, to keep the fear at bay. "But I'm not going to let that vision come true."

"No," Obi-Wan agrees firmly. He places a hand on your shoulder and gives it a squeeze. "You're not."

You nod and take a deep breath, the confidence in his voice bolstering your resolve. You're not going to let the darkness win. You're not going to become the monster in the vision. And Rex isn't going to have to pull the trigger.

"You have my word," you say quietly. "Whatever it takes."

"I believe you," Obi-Wan replies. There's a hint of a smile on his lips, and he pulls you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. "I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," you murmur. You close your eyes and lean into the embrace, the warmth and the safety a welcome comfort. You allow yourself a moment to enjoy the feeling, the fear and the anxiety fading, before pulling away and looking up at him. "I...I'm sorry. For everything. For keeping this from you. For lying to you."

"Don't be," he says gently. He runs a hand over your hair, his expression softening. "I'm sorry we weren't more forthcoming. It's as you said before. We're both to blame. Though I would agree it was more myself and the Council to blame than any other.”

"I can’t argue with that," you sigh. You shake your head and offer him a weak smile. "I'm still sorry."

"Me too," he says quietly. He gives your shoulder another squeeze before letting his hand drop back to his side. "And if you promise never to hide anything of this nature from me again, I might consider forgiving you."

You snort and roll your eyes playfully. "Deal."

"Good." He smiles and motions toward the door. "Now let's get you to the Halls of Healing. You need to be checked out."

"Obi-Wan," you whine, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, "I'm fine."

"You were unconscious for hours," he reminds you. His voice is stern, but there's a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, and he gives you a shove towards the door. "I'll hear no more complaints. We're going."

"Fine," you grumble.

The two of you make your way out of the bedroom and down the corridor. You're relieved to see that the Temple is relatively empty, and no curious eyes are on you as you pass through the hallways and make your way to the Halls of Healing.

"In the interest of honesty," you begin, keeping your voice low so no eavesdroppers can hear, "There's one more thing I should probably tell you."

"Yes?"

You take a breath, steeling yourself.

"I’m in love with Rex."

You don't wait for a reaction from Obi-Wan. Instead, you continue walking, stepping into the lift and hitting the button for the Halls of Healing without pausing. The doors slide shut before the two of you, and the lift begins its descent.

"Well," he remarks once the lift starts moving. His expression is carefully neutral, but there's a glint in his eyes. "That's certainly an interesting development."

"Interesting," you repeat dryly. "That's a nice way of putting it."

Obi-Wan chuckles. "Forgive me if I'm not entirely shocked by the news."

"Not entirely?"

"I'm a bit surprised you're only now bringing it up," he admits, the teasing in his tone impossible to miss. "I tried to tell you, several times. But you insisted that the two of you were just friends, and that the way he looked at you meant nothing. As if I wouldn't recognize the way he looks at you."

"I was being stubborn," you admit sheepishly.

"You were," Obi-Wan agrees. He gives you a playful nudge. "So what changed?"

"I've always felt something for him," you start slowly. "But the more time I spend with him...the stronger the feelings have become. And last night, some of the Torrent boys let it slip that he was in love with me."

"Ah."

"It was the way they said it. Like it was something everyone knew, something so commonplace, so inevitable," you continue. You can't help but smile, a small chuckle escaping your lips as the memory comes back to you. "They were talking about him like he was this hopeless romantic, and I just...I couldn't ignore the truth of it anymore."

He hums and gives a small nod. "He does seem rather devoted."

"Yes, well," you huff. You turn and give him a pointed look. "Apparently it's been that way for a while."

"And?"

"And," you continue, "I realized I feel the same."

Obi-Wan is silent for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the floor. He seems to be deep in thought, and you find yourself holding your breath, waiting for his response.

"I'm glad," he finally says.

"You are?" you ask, surprised.

He nods and turns to face you fully, a small smile on his lips.

"I'm glad that the two of you have found happiness together," he tells you. His voice is gentle, and his expression is soft. "And I'm glad that you've finally admitted your feelings for each other."

"But the Code," you protest weakly.

"The Code is meant to guide us. To give us structure and focus. But it's not infallible," Obi-Wan answers softly. "The Code does not forbid love."

"But attachment–”

"Is not the same as love," he finishes for you. He reaches out and takes your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It's possible to have love without attachment. You know that well. You just have to choose to be selfless. And I have no doubt that both of you are capable of such a thing."

You let out a shaky breath and blink back the tears that are suddenly pricking at the corners of your eyes, giving him a grateful smile.

"Thank you," you murmur, and you squeeze his hand.

"You're welcome," he says softly. He sighs and looks down at your joined hands, his expression turning wistful. "I was worried. For a while. After our...disagreement about the Council's decision not to investigate Yaddle's death."

You frown and open your mouth to respond, but he shakes his head and continues, cutting you off.

"It was a difficult time for you, and I know I was a part of the problem," he tells you quietly. His thumb strokes the back of your hand absently. "I didn't want you to lose your faith in the Order. In the Light. In yourself."

You stare at him, your heart swelling in your chest.

"But you didn’t. And I'm so proud of you," he murmurs. His gaze finds yours again, and his smile is warm. "And I'm glad that, even though your path is complicated, and the journey is challenging, you're finding happiness and love along the way. It's apparent how deeply you care about each other. If this is what it takes to keep you from falling, I'll gladly give my blessing, however much that matters to you.”

"Obi-Wan..."

You trail off, the lump in your throat preventing the words from forming. You're not sure how to respond, or even what to say. The relief and the gratitude and the love are too much, and the tears threaten to spill over. You blink hard against them and force a shaky smile.

"You won't lose me,” you murmur. “I promise."

"I hope not," he says. There's a sadness in his gaze, and a bitterness creeps into his voice. "Nothing is certain in war. Nothing is guaranteed. Not even love."

"I'm not going anywhere," you reassure him. You step closer and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He returns the embrace, his arms wrapping around you, his chin resting on the top of your head. "No matter what happens, I'll always be here."

Obi-Wan is silent, and you can feel his body tense underneath your touch. There’s a tremor in his hand, and you can hear his heart pounding in his chest. His grip on you tightens, and his breath hitches. For a moment, you wonder if you said the wrong thing, if he's upset or angry. But all you can feel through the tenuous connections of your bond is sadness and grief. Regret.

Finally, Obi-Wan pulls away, and his eyes find yours. There's a weariness there, a pain that's been hidden away. A burden he's been carrying for years. He looks like he wants to say something, but the words won't come. The emotions are too strong. So instead, he gives you a soft smile, and he steps away as the doors open.

"I know," he says quietly. He looks away and takes a deep breath. "I know.”

taglist: @baddest-batchers @lolwey @chocolatewastelandtriumph @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @aynavaano @floofyroro

@ayyyy-le-simp @mali-777 @schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon

@heavenseed76 @dreamie411 @sukithebean @bimboshaggy @bunny7567

@lostqueenofegypt @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus @heidnspeak

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @mrcaptainrex @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay

@callsign-denmark @julli-bee @moonychicky @captn-trex @feral-ferrule

@webslinger-holland @marchingviolist @cw80831 @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino

@sensitive-shark @kashasenpai @kkdrawsdecently @isaidonyourknees @awkwardwookie

@sugarrush-blush @lunaastars @capricornrabies @champagnejaig @silly-starfish

#the clone wars #captain rex #clone captain rex #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #roy writes #event horizon #okay SO #kinda completely changed the direction of this fic during my tiny break #rewrote the outline #fleshed out my timeline spreadsheet #drew some things #deleted other things #wrote a rex pov smut set like 20 chapters ahead of this one?#idk what happened #anyway next chapter is a good one i promise #and it's the last chapter in part one!#in reality that means very little but im excited about it

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blue-slxt · 1 year ago

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Kinktober 11

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: This one really scratched an itch I didn't know I had. I just keep learning more about myself in this fandom lol. I hope you guys enjoy this one! All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: cnc?, Ropes, Restraints, Oral, (F receiving), P in V, Breeding Kink, Squirting, Creampie, Roleplaying, Neteyam being an aftercare king

You stir awake to the sound of rustling around you and the sensation of something tightening around your wrists. When you open your eyes, it’s still the middle of the night, but you snap fully to your senses when you catch sight of Neteyam’s figure looming over you. You try to use your hands to touch him, but find that you can’t move your arms.

“N-Neteyam?...” Your arms strain a bit and you’re met with resistance. Looking up, you see that you’re tied to one of the posts of your kelku preventing you from using your hands.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t want to wake you. I just…just needed you so bad…” he says lust heavy in his voice as his hands start to run up and down your body. He squeezes at your hips and chest and thighs and ass and anywhere else he pleases.

You’re too embarrassed to keep looking at him when he starts to kiss and lick at your nipples and mutters to himself about how soft you feel. Your hands want to cover your face, but he has you secured tight. You finally look at him again when you feel his thumbs hook around your tewng and start to slide it down your hips. You attempt to close your legs to stop him, but he easily overpowers you and keeps your legs open for him.

“Tey, wait…” you start to protest, but he’s clearly not listening when he hikes your legs up to your chest by back of your knees and dips his head between your thighs.

“Ah!...”

Soft, breathless whispers and mumbles about how sweet you taste and how badly he wants you come from Neteyam between the open mouth kisses he places on your cunt.

“Mmm, wanna fill you up. Make you pregnant…fuck…” he breathes while he starts to undo his own tewng. “Neteyam, don’t…” you whine, but it’s no use. His eyes are half-lidded and his pupils wide as he stares down at you pulling helplessly against your restraints. He’s already lining himself up with your dripping pussy. One of his hands cups your cheek and he gently shushes you.

“It’ll be okay, sevin. Just let me use you for a bit, yeah?” he says

“B-but—Ah!” your words are cut of by Neteyam sinking into you. With how wet you are, you can literally hear the sound of each inch stretching you open. Neteyam bottoms out in you with a groan feeling your cervix kissing the head of his cock. His hips start moving almost in their own thrusting into you.

Your head starts to spin with every push of his hips. You can’t stop the small mewls that slip past your lips.

“See, doesn’t it feel good, narlor?” he coos from above you. “So wet for me…” his chin drops to his chest watching how your pussy opens up to take him over and over.

“Nete—Haah! Neteyam, what are you doing?” it takes all your focus to form a single coherent sentence as you start to feel that familiar pressure building in your core.

“Just wanna give you a baby so bad.” He’s losing himself to the pleasure as his speed increases. The sound of skin smacking against skin fills the air while he pounds into you.

“Mmm! Mmf! Tey…you shouldn’t!” you say wiggling under him still struggling to use your arms. The rope he has you tied with is starting to dig into your skin, but the sensation of it starts to get lost under the thick blanket of hormones covering your mind.

“Need…haah, need to fill you up with my baby. Need you pregnant…” he’s devolving into a rambling mess, fucking into you like there’s no tomorrow.

Your toes start to curl feeling that pressure intensify inside of you. You can’t even form the words to get it out and tell him before one of his hands is pressing into your lower abdomen so he can physically feel how deep he’s buried in your cunt. The pressure behind your belly explodes squirting out all over his pelvis and thighs. You mindlessly babble his name over and over as you cum.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so sexy. Argh, shit! I’m going to cum!” he says watching your contorting face.

Your eyes squeeze shut relinquishing yourself to your fate. There’s no escaping the ties around your wrists or the bruising hold Neteyam has on you.

“Open your eyes, sevin. I want you to watch me while I breed you.” He says. He ruts his hips into you hard, punching your sweet spot and making your eyes fly open to look at him. His mouth is open in panting breaths before his rhythm finally falters and heat spreads in your lower half. A deep growl leaves his throat as he lets rope after rope of his thick cum spill into you. His hips keep moving languidly pumping more back into you.

Even when he stops, he doesn’t pull out of you, but instead he just sits there still inside of you while he attempts to catch his breath.

A wild smile spreads across your face when he looks at you.

“How was that?” he asks, chest still heaving.

“That was perfect , my love” you tell him making him snort out a laugh.

“You know, yawne, you have the strangest requests sometimes.” He says leaning down and kissing your forehead.

You scrunch your nose at him, “Whatever, you were so into it. Now, get back in character”.

He playfully rolls his eyes at you knowing he can never say no to you.

“Teyam, c-can you untie me now, please?” you ask meekly, resuming your little game.

“Not yet, sevin. We have to make sure it takes, don’t we?” he says giving you one hard thrust. And true to his word, Neteyam spent hours ravishing your body and filling you to the brim with his seed until you were a writhing pile of mush and even beyond that.

In the end, once both of you were completely spent, Neteyam finally released you from your ties. Your skin burned where the ropes had scraped against your wrists and ankles. Joints were sore from the numerous positions he would contort you into. And your core throbbed from the almost endless pounding you had endured.

He took his time tending to you afterwards. He cleaned you gently with a wet cloth, made sure you drank plenty of water and had something to eat before climbing onto the sleep mat with you and holding you close into his chest.

“We should do this again some time” he suggests with a lighthearted laugh.

“Fine, but next time, I get to tie you up.”

Kinktober Taglist: @pandoraslxna @ashlatano7567 @sincerelykaib @jamies-wh0re @quaritchsluts @jakescumdump @delacruzyari @onlyloaksgf @skywonder @taintedlovesworld @myloveforyouisforever @angie-1306 @moodays @childofgod-05 @hadesbabygurl @daddysmurfslefttoenail @loaksulluyswife @y4sm1nsstuff @thewhiltedpeony @lovefrommeelise @neteyamssyulang @rosyjn @imintoomanyfandomscuzihaveadhd @anaclaudiasugar @xxwelshqueenxx @hania11 @xylianasblog @idkanymoregirl @eyrina-avatar @biscuitsaredelish @quinn-sadilla @the_mourning_moon @eyweveng @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @xaxsir @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @navilover24 @sulieykte @iameatingmyhair @leaveitbythewave @ntymavtr @fifilynn16 @kiri-tuk @mstocky78 @neteyamyawne @randumfanfics @sliqeramx @bluewonder @the-morning-moon @nerdfacesposts @vip-btxch @neteyamsyawntu @neteyamsoare

(If your tag isn't working, please check your settings.)

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut #neteyam smut #lunaskinktober2023

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conchoronzon · 1 year ago

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There are certain things you don't necessarily expect when you wake up. To be faced with your uncle's thick thighs, musky bulge, furry gut, and handsome face is one of those things. To be tied up and gagged, elsewise naked was another. Perhaps top of the list, though, is to find yourself shrunken and laying on top of a personal pizza. The hot cheese clung to your flesh, pulling at your body hair and your skin when you tried to struggle. It stuck to you more the more you moved about. It didn't take long to up getting yourself more bound and stuck than you were mere minutes ago.

You struggles and attempted to shout for about half an hour as your uncle took a few hits off a bong and chewed slowly on a couple of slices. His stomach gurgled. His teeth flashed. He chewed with his mouth open so you could watch the mashing. The bites of pizza disappeared down his throat.

When you finally stopped struggling--though you definitely weren't calm by any means--he stopped eating. He grinned down at you and took the sliver of a slice out of his mouth. "Morning, nephew," he said. His deep voice slithered into your ears and wrapped around your spine. Despite yourself, your hole twitched. "I sure am hungry." He took another bite and spoke with the food in his mouth. "Guess if you want to stay a pizza topping that bad, then I'll happily send you where you belong."

He slid the rest of his slice into his mouth, shoving his own hand down his throat to show off how stretchy his mouth and insides were. He swallowed, patted his bulging gut, and belched.

"I like that ball gag," he said as he grabbed the slices you were trapped on top. "You think I'll shit it out undigested tomorrow?"

Your struggles renewed. You tried to shout, but nothing was coherent through the gag. Despite your struggles, you didn't fall off the pizza. His lips got closer and closer.

"What was that? You hope you DO get churned into your uncle's shit?" He laughed. "Don't worry, baby boy. Half of you is gonna live on as fat on my gut, taunting more prey into your big bad uncle. At least, til I sweat you away for good. The rest of you? Don't worry. You'll be clogging the toilet soon."

(thanks to @26smascher913 for sending me a bunch of pics to caption lol)

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wordsaresimple-imnot · 10 months ago

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Drunken Confessions - Bill Guarnere x F!Reader (1st POV)

Summary: The boys and reader are out for a night of fun and drinking that leaves the reader with little to no memories of what happened after she had a drinking contest with Babe. As things slowly start to drift back to her, she remembers one thing clearly; she spilled her true feelings about Bill to someone. But who did she tell?

Warnings: none really, cursing per usual. No use of y/n or physical description. She/her pronouns.

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt2: This turned out longer than I thought it would starting out, but I let the fanfic gods guide my fingers and here we are, haha. If anyone likes this enough, I have an idea of a next day smut part 2 I can write. Comments, likes, and reblogs make my day. Thanks for reading!

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

I wasn't sure what made me wake up. Maybe the skull splitting headache, or maybe the sun shining through the blinds hitting my face, or maybe the way I'd sell everything I owned for water or maybe my bladder being so full that a single sneeze would cause a mess. Whatever the reason, the barest of movements to open my eyelids made me want to die instantly. The only motivation I could grasp onto to get up was to empty my bladder. Dying from a hangover is one thing, dying in my own piss is not something I could ever live with. The logic of my thought made no sense, but what the hell did I care as I practically crawled to the bathroom.

Once I was relieved and able to draw the last bit of strength I had to splash water on my face and half-ass brush my teeth, I made it back to my bed with a little more dignity. Okay, it was still on my knees but at least I wasn't crawling. A win is a win. A full glass of water on my bedside table catches my eye and I down it quicker than I've ever done before, well except for maybe the drinks last night. How did this get here? No way I was coherent enough to pour a glass of water for myself to wake up to.

As I got more situated in the bed, very much facing away from the windows because I couldn't bring myself to gather any more will power to close them more properly I couldn't stop thinking about the glass of water. And then it hit me that I was not in my dress from the night before or even just my underwear but pajamas. Being aware of how little my brain and motor skills actually worked together when I'm more than tipsy, these things stood out. What the hell happened last night? I tried to focus on my last memories of the previous night hoping that would shed some light on my current situation.

~~ last night ~~

"Oh come on! Are y'all scared to lose to little ole me?" I smiled sweetly to the table, making my southern accent a little heavier to hopefully sway one of them to take on my challenge.

"None of us would lose against you, doll. We just don't want to deal with you tomorrow morning." Toye said, motioning around the table before pointing his finger directly at me. I rolled my eyes and leaned a little closer over the table.

"Nah, I'm sweet as pie darlin'. I think y'all don't want the news spreading that someone in Easy Company lost to a little farmer girl." I smirked at Toye and the rest of the men, daring them to deny it.

"Fuck it, I'll do it." Babe shot up from the end of the table and made his way over towards my section. I beamed at his cocky smiled and made shooing motions to Luz and Perco to make space so he could sit across from me. With a nod to Liebgott, I watched him go off to grab us our first rounds of beer.

As Liebgott made his way back holding two beers, I see Bull, Martin, and Bill following him from the bar.

"The fuck are you doing?" Bill's eyes bounced back and forth between me and Babe. Unsure of who was directing the question to, I shrugged and decided to answer.

"Babe thinks he can handle a drinkin' contest with me." I shoot Babe a wink as he narrows his eyes a little at me. I look back up to Bill when I hear him curse and turn more fully to Babe.

"Haven't I taught you anything? Don't start shit you can't win." He's poking Babe in the chest with every other word, making the other bat his hand away.

"Who says I ain't gonna win? Look at her, she's like a flower. This will be over by the third beer." Babe sits up straighter, setting determined eyes on me. He starts to look more annoyed than ever when Luz, Bull, and Tab start laughing.

"Anyone else, I'd say you had a chance. But she," Tab throws his arm over my shoulders, jostling me into his side, "has come the closest out of all of us to beating Bull. She lost, but damn it was amazing to watch." I give Tab a playful shove, righting myself back to a sitting position.

Babe's face has paled a little but somehow manages to look even more determined to see this through. "I'm still in."

"Perfect!" I smile at him, raising my glass to cheers him. "If I win, you have to be my shadow all day tomorrow to take care of me. If I win, you can get my cigarettes for the next two supply packages."

"Deal." Babe cheers me back, and we take our first sips of beer simultaneously. Bill looks beyond annoyed, muttering 'It's your funeral' and starts back to the bar. Bull sends me a wink, Martin a smile, and then follow behind Bill.

"Buckle up, Philly boy. You're in for a ride." I shoot a final wink at him, and then start inhaling my beer. Babe's shocked face and scramble to follow my lead is the last full coherent memory of that night.

I groan in frustration as the rest of the night seems to dissolve from my mind and I can't comfortably say I know what is fiction and what really happened. I have a vague feeling dancing with Tab, Luz and Toye probably happened. Drinking usually turned to dancing in my case. I prayed that singing at the bar with Malarkey and Muck was fiction. It feels like a huge gap is missing after that (please be fictional) memory and then slivers of different memories start floating out. Suddenly I'm in a cold sweat as bits start floating in.

"He's alright but doesn't hold a candle to Bill. When he actually smiles, it's like seeing the sun shine."

"You can't tell him any of this. Swear it."

"No, I know his eyes and yours are too dark. His are warm and beautiful with small flecks of gold in them. I could drown in those eyes forever."

Fuck me, fuck my parents for having me, fuck my grandparents and ancestors for having them, fuck fuck fuck. I take it back, I'd happily sing drunk songs with Malarkey and Muck for the rest of my life if I can take those words back. And just when I thought my life couldn't get worse, I shot up in bed and another fact hits me...I don't know who I said all of those things to. FUCK!

Hours later, I'm still in bed trying to make myself remember anything about my mystery companion or at the very least come up a way to turn back time. Just as my stomach growls for the fourth time, there's a knock on my door and then it's swinging open. I jump up again for the second time that day.

"Hey sleeping beauty, how's the hangover?" Luz asks, all bright eyes and smiles as Babe follows behind him looking exactly how I feel. I shift up the bed to make room for Luz to sprawl out at the foot of the bed while Babe just curls into a ball next to me, back to the window and sunlight.

"I feel like death." I manage to croak out. It's the first time I've used my voice since passing out last night and you'd swear I smoked like a chimney from the sound.

"You look it too." Luz narrowly dodges the pillow I throw at his face. The movements cause Babe to give a pathetic whine and he curls up even more. "I don't know who pissed in your coffee, but this is not how a winner should be acting." I roll my eyes, smiling briefly as I get confirmation that I did win last night. My stomach growling again wipes it from my face.

"I'm starving. And if I won, that means you're my personal shadow all day today to help me feel better." I give Babe a small nudge, just enough to make him crack an eye open to look at me. "Y'all head down to the mess hall and get me two of everything while I get ready and meet you there."

After a few seconds of Babe making no moves to get up, Luz jumps up and all but starts dragging him towards the door. "Come on, Babe, you heard your mistress." Because his hands are full with Babe, he can't dodge the pillow I throw and gives out a low 'ow' as it connects with his face.

Just as they were about to close the door, I blurted out the question I've been trying to figure out. "Hey, who helped me home last night?"

"Not sure doll, I was playing darts with Martin, Bull and Babe." Luz almost had the door closed when he poked his back back in. "Why do you ask?"

I shrug, praying it comes out nonchalant while I'm dying inside. "Just needed to ask them a question. I think I lost something on the way home and just wondered if they knew about it." Something being my dignity. "Don't worry about it, I'll figure it out. Thanks." With a nod, Luz closed the door and left me to agonize alone.

The rest of the day was the most frustrating day of my life. Not because of the hangover, that started feeling better after I got some food and water, with a splash of hair of the dog, in me. Babe started to perk up too but was still definitely battling it so I took mercy on him and let him go back to sleep until his turn for patrol that night. I had the day off from helping Nixon censor mail and finalize reports so that didn't add to my frustrations. No, all of my frustration was because I spent the whole day tracking down the guys and asking who helped me home. They all gave the same answer: wasn't me.

Through my investigating, I was able to piece a loose timeline of the night. Once our game was over, I started dancing with Tab, the next song went to Luz, and I somehow managed to drag Toye out for the one after that. Once they all declined another song, I went to the bar to get another drink and ended up singing two bar songs with Malarkey and Muck, who afterwards started up a card game with Toye, Tab and Penkala that went on the rest of the time. I apparently stayed at the bar, chatting with Bull, Martin and Bill till Luz and Babe came over and got them to play darts the rest of the night. Liebgott kept me company at the bar, making sure I started on water but eventually left to start flirting with the barmaid that kept making eyes at him. My last hope was Perco but someone told me he left before I did to get some sleep before his morning patrol.

Just as the sun started to drift down, I was at my wits end. As a last ditch effort, I decided to write up a timeline diagram to triple check that everyone was accounted for. Surely one of the guys was lying to me and waiting to use my confessions as leverage for something. I move everything on my desk to one side and start making my diagram. By my third review of it, I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing something. So I write all of the men's names down and start checking them off as I mentally go over the stories again.

Luz...check. Bull...check. Perco...check. Babe...check. Liebgott...check. Tab...check. Toye...check. Muck...check. Malarkey...check. Martin...check. Penkala...check. There's no one left. I was just a lunatic talking to myself and somehow managed to get myself home and in bed like a sober person? Just as I was about to commit to believing that I realized I left one name off the list that didn't show up in anyone's story long enough to be crossed off. Bill...fuck.

I crumbled the paper and practically sprinted to my room, dodging soldiers and helpers like a madwoman. There was more foot traffic as the morning and evening patrol were switching foxholes and dinner was currently going. I managed to catch Babe on his way towards the mess hall and made him swear to tell everyone I was still feeling sick and would be in my room the rest of the night. Thankfully he was still feeling sick, so he took me at my word and didn't pay attention to my erratic behavior.

Back in my room I couldn't decide what I was more humiliated about; spilling my secret feelings about Bill TO Bill or being so drunk I don't know it was Bill I was even talking to. With a belly flop I landed on my bed, pressed my face into my pillow and let out a full body scream. Just as it ended there was a knock on my door.

"Go away, I'm dying." I moved my face to the side so whoever was there could somewhat hear me. It wasn't from drinking but hey, semantics at this point. The knock came again, this time more forceful. "Seriously, whoever is there just let me be." With a huff I push myself off the bed and swing open the door to reveal the cause of all my misery. Bill fucking Guarnere. Fuck me.

He's leaning against the door frame without a care in the world it seems and his signature smirk on his face. He'd never looked better. "You know my ma and sisters would come all the way over here and beat my ass if they ever found out I let a woman be miserable all alone. Especially without food." He raised a small bag to emphasize his point. Without waiting for me to answer, he brushed past me into my room and sat squarely on the bed, leaning against the wall, watching me.

Who knows how long it took my brain to send the right signals to make my body move, but eventually I broke our staring contest, closed the door and made my way to the bed. Because I was basically Nix's aid, I was able to get my own room but it was the barest of bare minimums. Side table, joining bathroom, and a bed against the wall. So the only place left to sit was on the bed with Bill, but I tried to put as much distance as I could so I sat crossed legged against the wall acting as the headboard and looked at the bag he still held.

"What's in there?" I decided the best tactic right now was to pretend nothing happened at all. So far Bill seemed to be of the same mind.

"Bread and some cheese. Didn't know how much your stomach could handle." He tossed the bag to me, nodding his acknowledgement to my quick thanks and I tore it open and started nibbling on the contents. After a few beats, he decided the best time to say something was when my mouth was completely full. "So...heard you lost something last night."

Next thing I know I really do feel like I'm dying as I choke on my bite of food, simultaneously batting away his hands that are trying to reach behind to pat my back. After I get small control over my breathing, I wipe the few tears that formed and down the rest of the water I had at my bedside. Two shaky breaths later all I can manage is squeaking out, "What?"

Bill looks at me with a sliver of concern that I'll start hacking up a lung again, but slowly his normal smirk starts to form and he leans back against the wall. "Luz said you were trying to figure out who helped you home last night because you lost something. Toye and Bull said you were pretty aggressive in your questions about everyone's activities last night. If you haven't figured it out already, I was the one that helped you get home from the bar but I don't recall you losing anything." His posture was relaxed, even lazy, but his eyes were hard and jaw was set. Challenging me to make the next move.

I cleared my throat two times, before I forced myself to speak. "Yeah, I actually figured it out a little bit ago." Bill inclined his head towards me, indicating that he wanted me to elaborate on the 'losing something' part. "I, uh, well I was just trying to figure out who helped me and didn't want Luz asking a million and one questions so that seemed the best answer."

"Why didn't you come find me once you figure it all out?" One thing about Bill Guarnere, he never pulled punches and was a hound dog when he set his mind to something.

"No reason...I, uh, well I just..." I turned all my focus on the crumpled paper bag in front of me so I didn't catch his eyes and completely spill my guts. Sober this time.

"Ah come on sweetheart, cat got your tongue now?" He moved to lean down on his arm, shifting closer to me. "Let me help you remember." With that damn, sexy smirk Bill started recounting the night before to fill in the blanks.

~~ last night, Bill POV ~~

I haven't taken my eyes off her all night. If anyone asked I'd say it was out of concern for how much she drank and watching out for a fellow soldier. That was partly true, but the majority was being jealous. Jealous for how easy she laughed and touched and moved with our friends. Don't get it twisted, we are friends too, closer than most of them but it's not as carefree as these moments I'm witnessing.

It can't be carefree because if I let my guard down for one second I'd spill my guts about how she makes me feel. How everything fades out around the edges when she gives that million dollar smile and her eyes crinkle a little at the sides. How I would do anything stupid again and again to make that little snort come out when she's laughing too hard and can't help it. How I want to protect her from this war so damn bad so I never have to see pain in her eyes. How I'd fight the entire Kraut army for the chance to kiss her just once and hold her in my arms.

But I can't say any of that because I'd rather suffer in silence than risk losing her from my life, even as just a friend. So I stay silent and keep watch as everyone around me enjoys their night without a care in the world, not knowing that my entire world is sitting at the bar alone.

She's just started on a second glass of water when some guy from Fox Company slides up next to her and starts talking. Whatever he said has her turning in her seat to point in the direction of Liebgott that left her for some barmaid. While she's focused on where Liebgott is, I'm focused on watching the guy shamelessly check her out. I down the rest of my beer, shove the glass into Luz's hand and march straight over to the bar before any of the guys can ask what I'm doing.

I make it over just as their hands connect and I can hear them exchanging names.

"I can't believe someone as beautiful as you is here all alone." I'm going to brake this guys jaw.

"She's not alone, private." I push myself to my full height and use my Sergeant's voice. This makes him stand up straighter and drop her hand.

"Bill!" She says my name with so much awe and happiness, as if she hadn't be around me in some fashion throughout the night. Being to drunk to care about policy or decorum she wraps her arms around me and gives me the prettiest smile.

"Hey sweetheart," I give her a soft smile back and wrap one arm around her shoulders, keeping her where she is. I look back at the private with a hard glare and raise an eyebrow. "Need something?"

"No sir, I just came to grab a drink. I'll, uh, I'll just get one over there." He practically runs to the other end of the bar, avoiding anymore eye contact.

A soft giggle, makes me look back down and smile again. "What's so funny, doll?"

"You didn't need to scare him, we were just talking." A piece of her hair falls against her cheek when she laughs again. I move it behind her ear, letting my finger graze her cheek before I answer.

"He wanted to do more than talk, believe me."

"What would I do without Bill Guarnere as my knight in shining armor." The smile she sends up to me is nearly enough to send me to my knees right then and there.

I wrap my other arm around her and drop a quick kiss to the top of her head. "You'll never have to find out, sweetheart. I'm always gonna be there." We stay like that for a minute, which isn't nearly long enough before I say, "Come on, lets get you to bed or you're gonna be dyin' tomorrow."

She manages to be get off the barstool and walk out of the bar so efficiently I wonder if she really is as drunk as I thought, but that hope is dashed once she stumbles over air and starts laughing. I can't help but laugh with her as I grab her hands to steady her.

"We should go dancing." She suddenly says and tries to get me to spin her.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Besides you probably want Tab for that, seems to be your favorite dancing partner. Always smiling at you and everything" I meant it to come out as a joke, but it sounded more bitter that anything. Thankfully she was in her own thoughts and didn't pick up the edge to my voice.

"He's alright but he doesn't hold a candle to Bill. When he actually smiles, it's like seeing the sun shine." She says it like it's a known fact and the most natural thing in the world for her say. It stops me dead in my tracks, which stops her because we are still holding hands.

"What did you say?" I tug her a little so she's turned around and looking at me. She gives a small shrug.

"Tab is cute and sweet but he's not Bill. I'd kill to dance with him and make him smile. It's so rare and makes my whole day when I can cause it."

"Sweetheart, you do know I'm Bill." I wait for the lightbulb to go off as she takes a step closer and looks at my face.

"No you're not, you're eyes are too dark."

"They're the same as they've been my whole life."

"No, I know his eyes and yours are too dark. His are warm and beautiful with small flecks of gold in them. I could drown in those eyes forever." She lets go of my hands and starts walking off to her billet. I know I have the goofiest smile on my face as I watch her, before it's wiped away by the realization that she can't remember who I am. Of course I finally get the girl of my dreams to confess her feelings for me and she doesn't even know it's me she's talking to.

Just as I'm catching up to her, trying to figure out what to say, she turns to me with a panic stricken face. "You can't tell him any of this. Swear it." She grasps my hands again, squeezing for dear life.

"Your secrets safe with me, sweetheart." I do my best to give her a comforting smile to ease her panic, which seems to work. We don't talk anymore the rest of the way to her billet but we do hold hands the whole way.

Once we are in her room, I can tell she's losing consciousness quickly. I find some pajamas for her to change into, helping just enough to make it easier for her change without seeing or touching anything inappropriate. As she finishes changing and crawls into bed, I fill up a glass of water and set it on the bedside table. I take one final look around to make sure she's comfortable and settled in properly before dropping a kiss on top of her head and heading to the barracks for some shut eye before my patrol.

~~ End of Bill's POV ~~

I feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment after Bill tells me the conversation we had. My eyes are firmly planted on the bag in my lap, that I've all but turned into confetti. I feel him shift on the bed again, so he's seated right next in front of me, but I can't bring myself to meet him gaze. His eyes never left my face the whole time he recounted everything and I'm too scared to look and see what emotion I'll find there. Amusement? Pity?

The decision is taken away from me when one of his hands cups the side of my neck and tips my head up to finally meet his gaze. There's a lot of emotion in his eyes, but I can't pinpoint what it is, which scares me even more.

"I'm sor-" I start to say but get cut off.

"Did you mean it?" His voice is soft but firm. He's not going to drop this and seems to be holding his breathe waiting for my answer.

"Yes." The word is barely more than a whisper but I know he heard it from the smile that takes over his face. Next thing I know he's leaning the rest of the way into my space, tilting my head to the side and softly pressing his lips to mine.

My hands reach up to fist his jacket, pulling him closer and the smallest whimper comes up when he nips at my bottom lip. My reaction seems to be all the go ahead Bill needs as he focuses on pulling me so we are flush against each other while taking possession over my mouth. At some point we rearrange ourselves to be laying on the bed, him draped over me like a second skin.

Our kisses between slow and languid to passionate and slightly frenzied. We don't know how long we stay like that, minutes or hours, but when we part our lips are swollen and we are breathing hard. Bill rests his forehead against mine and nudges my nose with his.

"Can I stay the night? No funny business, I just...now that I have you in my arms, I don't want to let you go just yet." He places soft kisses on both my cheeks and then my lips, looking at me with his heart in his eyes.

"I never want to be anywhere except your arms, Bill." I nudge his nose back and return the kiss he just gave. The smile he gives me has my heart melting and my lungs forgetting to breathe.

A few small kisses later, we've arranged ourselves into more comfortable positions; him on his back, me all but laying on top of him, our arms wrapped tightly around each other. Slowly we drift off to sleep with smiles on our faces thinking the same thing:

We have our whole world in our arms.

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #bill guarnere #bill guarnere x reader #hbo war #hbo band of brothers #easy company #bill guarnere x you #william guarnere #band of brothers x you

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albertasunrise · 2 years ago

Text

Reality Check - Oops Baby

Masterlist

Summary: Being best friends with Frankie meant movie nights, drinks with the guys and a shoulder to cry on when you got your hear broken. He is head over heels for you but you don’t feel the same… yet a drunken mistake will tie your lives together forever!

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+ (So... I am trying to update my other pics but the reaction I getting from this ones really giving me the motivation to continue it... so thank you and I hope you enjoy this update! ♥️ It's not a super long one but everything gonna become clear I promise!)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

“What do you mean I can’t see him right now?” You demanded, glancing down at Emse as you awaited a response from the doctor.

“He has been in a natural coma for a month and a half. It's going to take him a while before he’s even a little coherent. We also want to monitor him closely over the next few hours. He might be awake but he’s not out of the woods yet!” The doctor stated plainly “I know you want to see him but overwhelming him this soon after he’s woken up and suffered a cardiac arrest is not going to help with his recovery.” The doctor continued, giving your arm a gentle squeeze “If all goes well, you can see him tomorrow.”

You nodded to show your understanding and then looked at Ben. He looked as frustrated as you felt but you didn’t want to do anything that could risk his recovery. This was all just so difficult to get your head around.

Your near-death from Esme’s birth, to waking up to learn Frankie had had another major heart attack and was on life support until a heart came available, had been hard to come to terms with. It had been hard to navigate parenthood without him but then it had probably been the same for him at first.

But, as hard as this had been for you. How desperate you’d been for him to get better and wake up. It had hit Ben the hardest.

6 weeks earlier…

Ben opened the front door to Frank’s house and was immediately greeted by Emse’s screams.

“Fish?” He called out as stepped into the dimly lit house.

When he had received a text from Frankie earlier to say he’s broken up with Mary, Ben had initially been over the moon. But after he’d finished his celebrations, he thought he should probably check on Frankie. The man had cared for Mary after all. So that’s what led Ben to come over. And after knocking a few times a receiving no answer, he let himself in. Not something that was overly unusual.

What was unusual was to receive no answer from the pilot and to hear Esme screaming. Fish had been a dedicated father from the moment he had brought her home. Something was wrong.

“Fish?” He called again as he scaled the stairs, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of his friend.

He came to a stop outside Frankie’s door, Esme’s screams were the loudest from inside and he didn’t even bother knocking. Either Frank was dead asleep or…

He didn’t wanna consider the alternative.

“FISH!!” He yelled upon finding his friend on the floor.

Frankie was sprawled on the floor, on his front with his head to one side. Eyes barely open. Esmerelda was on the floor beside him however looked to be unharmed. Clearly, Frank had managed to put her down gently as he collapsed.

Ben felt for a pulse and found one. It was weak but it was there. So, he scooped the baby up and lay her in the Moses basket in the corner before returning his attention to Fish, moving him so that he was laying on his back before pulling out his phone and dialling 911.

He spoke as calmly to the operator as he could whilst monitoring the pilot’s pulse and breathing. Putting the phone on loudspeaker and starting compressions the moment Frankie stopped breathing.

“Come on man… don’t do this to me.” Ben sobbed as he worked tirelessly to get his friend breathing again “Don’t leave Titch and Esme man…” Benny begged, “Don’t leave me!”

Finally, just as the paramedics arrived, Frank took a weak breath and then the rest was a blur. Ben called Will and told him to get to the hospital before attending to the crying baby beside him. He didn’t go in the ambulance. He knew he needed to get Esme fed and changed first. But as soon as that was done he had the baby bag packed and he was gone. Praying he wouldn’t be greeted by the news that he’d lost his best friend.

Present day…

Benny chewed nervously at his thumbnail as he waited for his friend to wake up. The doctors had lightly sedated him when he had grown more confused as he'd come to. That had been a little over twelve hours ago. Ben had waited at the hospital, sending you home with Esme and promising to ring you the moment he woke up.

Then three hours ago he was finally allowed to see Fish. The doctors had decided that it would be good for him to see a friendly face as he came to. So He sat and waited patiently for his best friend to come to. His nails taking a beating from how on end his nerves were.

A soft whimper grabbed his attention and Ben was on his feet in an instant, clutching Frankie's hand as he smiled sweetly at his waking companion.

"You with my Fishcake?" He asked softly, grinning like a loon when Frank weakly nodded, his eyes cracking open and revealing slivers of those brown orbs Ben had missed so much "Take it easy buddy. I'm here."

Frankie lugged his way to consciousness. It felt like he was walking through treacle. His limbs were heavy and his head filled with cottonwool yet slowly but surely, things got lighter and clearer. Ben waited patiently at his side. Watching as he grew more and more aware as each minute slugged by.

"Welcome back brother." He said as Frankie finally cracked his eyes open fully and rolled his head to look at him "You gave us a scare."

"I..." Frankie trailed off as his brows drew together, the memories of what happened slithering back through.

You, standing there smiling with your outstretched hand. Pleading for him to return to you. Then the lights. The blinding lights and the pain as the car struck him. He was going to see you again. He was supposed to die.

The sound of his heart rate increasing made Benny call out for help, tears in his eyes as he feared that his friend might code again.

"Mr Morales, you need to calm down." Urged the doctor as they noted his vitals "This isn't good for you."

"Why." Frankie sobbed as he started to thrash in the bed "I should have died."

"Fish, what do you-"

"I was going to see her again." He sobbed.

"Who, Mel?" Benny asked as he stepped to his friend's side and clutched his hand, hoping to ground his friend "Frankie, Mel's gone."

"I was going to see Titch." He all but whispered "I was going back to her."

This made Benny pause. His brows pulled together in confusion at what his friend had just said. What did he mean he was 'going back to her'?

"What do you mean Fish?"

"Sir, I think you need to leave." The doctor urged, a nurse then pulling the man from the room so that the doctors could do their work. But he didn't leave the doorway of Frank's room.

"Mr Morales, do you know where you are?" The doctor asked but Frankie didn't answer, he just continued to sob and his heart monitor continued to chime "Mr Morales, you're in the hospital." The doctor stated "You suffered a massive heart attack. You had a heart transplant but fell into a coma. You have been out for almost two months."

"No... No, I was hit by a car." Frankie choked "I should have died... I... I wanted to see her again."

Benny's heart broke as he listened to his friend.

"You weren't hit by a car Mr Morales." The doctor urged, his head snapped to the nurse to his left and giving her a nod.

"You're lying."

The nurse then injected something into Frankie's IV and the man's thrashing grew sluggish. Ben could see from where he was standing that his friend's eyes were starting to grow heavy and in a manner of seconds, the room was all most silent again. Slowly but surely the medical staff started to file out, the doctor stopping beside Ben with an unreadable expression on his face.

Ben waited patiently for the man to speak, his heart pounding against his ribs as his eyes flitted between Fish and his doctor.

"What happened Doc?" Ben asked, his voice soft and vulnerable.

"He appears to be confused.' The doctor started "He... It seems that he experienced some sort of vivid dream when he was in his coma. He is convinced he was hit by a car."

"What can we do?"

"I think the best thing to do is keep him mildly sedated for now. Just to keep him calm until he gets his head around what actually happened to him." The man said as he scrapped a large hand over his stubbled jaw "He can't afford to get worked up like that again. His heart is still in a fragile state."

"Do you think seeing his daughter might help?" Benny asked and the doctor nodded.

"Sure. Anything positive like that should help him relax."

Benny nodded, giving the doctor a weak smile as his eyes zoned in on his friend.

"Thanks, doc."

"He'll be out for a few hours." The man said as he placed a friendly hand on Ben's arm "Get a coffee and something to eat. You're no good to him if you're not taking care of yourself."

...

Your heart leapt out of your chest as your phone started to ring loudly from the table beside you. Noting Ben's name on the screen, you answered it immediately as your pulsed raced.

"Ben?"

"He woke up."

"He did?" You choked as you covered your mouth with a shaky hand, trying to smother the sob that threatened to escape your lips.

"He was all confused and shit. Got a bit worked up and they had to sedate him again." Ben said, his voice wobbling as he spoke "They wanna keep him mildly sedated for now. Something about keeping him calm as he comes around. I guess being on pause for nearly two months can screw your brain up a little."

You chuckled at that. Your coma hasn't quite gone on that long but you had certainly been a little confused when you'd woken up.

Six weeks earlier...

Your sensations returned in waves but everything sounded muffled and felt heavy. Your limbs seemed to be made of lead, your fingers were all that seemed to want to obey your commands. The sounds around you were distorted. Almost like you were hearing them from underwater.

You managed to moan, hoping that it would give you a little more control over your body but alas you remained somewhat pinned in place, so you drifted to sleep again in the hopes that when you woke again things would be a little clearer.

...

Benny had wanted to shout from the rooftops when you'd started to show signs of waking up. The past few days had been hell for him. He and Will had split their time between your room and Frankie's. Neither of them wanted to leave either party on their own and when you started to twitch and moan, Benny finally started to feel a semblance of hope. So he clung to that, along with your hand as he waited for you to open your eyes.

That happened three hours later.

"Ben?" Your question was more of a whisper but he heard it all the same.

He placed Esme in her Pram and practically sprinted to your side, smiling sweetly at you as you blinked up at him.

"Hey, you." He said sweetly "Have a nice nap?"

"What happened?" You asked, your voice getting a little stronger but still scratching from weeks of disuse.

Benny grabbed the water bottle from the side table and popped in the straw that had been sitting beside it. Then bringing it to you your lips, he cupped your head and helped you lift it so that you could take soothing sips of the tepid liquid. You held your hand up when you'd had your fill and Benny placed the bottle down with one hand as his other gently lay your head back against the pillow.

"What happened?" You repeated and he sighed, how brow pulling together as he searched for the words.

"You uh... You haemorrhaged." He stated plainly "Pretty bad. It was touch and go for a bit but you fought... Small but mighty." He chuckled as his hand started to stroke your hair "You have been out for a few weeks but you needed the rest."

"Frankie and the baby okay?" This question made Ben's heart shatter. Standing he turned to the pram that was just out of your eye line and scooped up Esme, kissing her little nose when she started to fuss.

"I got little Esme right here." Ben stated as he brought your daughter into view and you sobbed at the sight of her. A head of brown hair and the cutest little plump cheeks.

"Oh, my angel." You choked as you press the button on your bed so that you were more upright, accepting your daughter into your waiting arms with a smile "Oh look at you." You cooed, memorising everything about her "You look just like your Papi." You chuckled as you looked at Ben and beamed "Where is Fish?"

Ben's expression grew solemn again and there was no hiding it from you now.

"Ben?... Where is Francisco?" You pushed and he sobbed.

"He's um... He's here."

"Where?"

"Titch?" He pleaded but you needed an answer.

"Benny... Tell me where he is!"

"He uh... He suffered a massive heart attack." Ben started, his eyes settling on Esme as she slept in your arms "They uh... They got him on life support. Waitin' for a heart."

"No..." You trailed off, tears flowing freely as you looked down you your daughter, envious of how clueless she was to all this.

"He'll die without one."

"No." You sobbed harder, your head dropping as you screwed your eyes shut and let yourself fall apart "We were supposed to do this together." You cried "We were supposed to be a family."

Present day...

You arrived at the hospital as soon as you could. You'd thrown a bag together for Esme, grabbed her pram and left, desperate to see Frankie awake.

His room was empty when you arrived. You looked around, trying to catch sight of him but coming up blank. He must've gone to get coffee. You pushed Esme's pram into Franks's room, tucking it in the corner so it didn't get in the way and then you took your place at Frankie's side. You didn't have to wait long for him to wake.

He was sluggish, his eyes fluttering open and closed for a while. The sedatives were making it hard for him to surface.

"That's it, Frankie." You said softly as you squeezed his hand and smiled sweetly at him "Come back to me."

This statement was like a bucket of ice water over Frankie's head. His head snapped towards you and his eyes filled with tears as he seemed to study every inch of your face.

"Titch." He choked, blinking furiously in an attempt to keep himself awake and you nodded.

"That's right, just come back to me my Frankie."

"I tried." He choked and you grew confused "I'm so sorry Titch." He sobbed and you stepped back as a hand pulled you away from him "Why won't you leave me be."

"Frankie-"

"Just leave me alone." He cried "Please..."

You turned on your heel and practically sprinted towards the door, colliding with Ben's solid chest. He scooped Esme up with practised ease with one arm and led you out the room with the other, leaving the doctors and nurses to work Franky.

"He... I don't..." You can't find the words, too heartbroken to string a coherent sentence together so Ben just holds you till you calm down. Giving himself a chance to figure out how was going to tell you what he needed to.

"Titch... There's uh... Well, there's something you should know." He said when your cries finally quietened "Fish he uh... Well, it seems like he experienced a pretty vivid dream in his coma."

You looked up at him with a bemused expression, head tilting to one side as you waited for him to continue.

"When he woke up, he was rambling about getting hit by a car." He continued "I guess that's what he'd dreamt just before he woke up."

"What are you trying to tell me, Ben?" You pushed and Ben let out a long sigh as he looked down at Esme in his arm.

"Frankie thinks you're uh... Well, he-"

"Spit it out, Ben." You grumbled, unable to take the suspense any longer.

"He thinks you're dead."

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