#i mean. it stands for ‘seth’s bus.’ i’m sure you can come up with ideas from there

[thnksfrthmmrs]

What does your tag sb mean

my friends and i have an inside joke for a group of our favorite wrestlers so whenever i reblog stuff of that group together i tag it with “sb” because its an initials of the joke

[let-me-love-you-loki]

Welcome to Oblivion--Ch. 16

Chapter 16

           I leaned against the side of my car, bundled in the oversized Pirates sweatshirt that Roman had given me that first night at the observatory. He was dressed in a fleece pullover and jeans as if the cold barely bothered him. He grinned as he tugged me closer, wrapping me tightly in his arms. Warmth settled into my limbs and took root in my chest.

           Roman kissed me gently. “I’ve missed you.”

           I grinned back, winding my arms around his neck. “I missed you, too.” Even though Roman radiated heat, I couldn’t help but shiver. “But can we please go inside?”

           He laughed and tucked me against his side, snatching my bag and throwing it over his shoulder as he led the way into his apartment. I let out a sigh of relief when the door shut behind us, engulfing me in warmth. Dean was sitting on the sofa, beer in one hand, remote in the other. Seth was in the kitchen, pulling a cup from the cabinet.

           “Coffee!” I whimpered, disentangling myself from Roman and dashing toward where his roommate stood. “Dear God, Seth, gimme!”

           He laughed and grinned as he poured a cup. I noticed for the first time that there was a slight gap between his front teeth. Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I watched him add caramel-flavored creamer before he pressed it into my hands. I wrapped my fingers around the cup and held it under my face.

           “Ah,” I sighed after the first sip. “That’s the good stuff.”

           Seth held his own cup aloft in salute and squeezed by me, dropping into the empty chair in the living room. I followed behind and found that Roman had sprawled on the unoccupied end of the sofa. He slapped the cushion beside him.

           I sank into the space between Roman and Dean. With one on each side, it was wonderfully warm. I wriggled down into the cushions and looked over, scowling.

           “Hello to you too, Dean,” I said tartly.

           He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and grunted. “Hi,” he replied, almost as if he didn’t want to talk to me.

           I was surprised to find that it hurt. I turned toward Roman and Seth, brows raised in question. They both shrugged. Feeling suddenly out of place, I sighed and stood up. “Thanks for the coffee, Seth. It was a long drive. I’m going to go lie down, that okay, Ro?”

           Roman’s hand settled on the curve of my hip, squeezing gently as I walked by. “Of course, baby girl. Want me to come with?”

           I shook my head, realizing that Dean hadn’t even looked at me—not really—since I walked in. “No, I’m good.”

           By the time I’d kicked off my shoes and slipped beneath the thick comforter of Roman’s bed, I was holding back tears that I didn’t understand. Before today, Dean and I had gotten along well. Or I thought we had. We’d watched movies with Roman, gone out to eat and hiking with him. Now it seemed that he couldn’t stand the sight of me.

           I couldn’t understand why the thought made me want to cry. He was Roman’s friend, not mine. He didn’t have to like me. Maybe it bothered him that I was in their apartment all the time. But the idea that he wanted me to go away made my chest ache in a way that frightened me. I liked Dean. He was funny and irreverent and cocky. He made me laugh, particularly when he called me princess.

           I rolled over, burying my face in Roman’s pillows as I sobbed quietly, suddenly terrified of never hearing him call me that again.

***

           “Do you like boxing? Like MMA fighting?” Roman asked a few days later as we walked out of The Cove after a workout.

           “It’s okay. I’ve never been a huge fan. Why?” I climbed into the cab of his truck, glad that I didn’t have to walk back across campus to my dorm in the cold.

           Roman grinned as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “I’m going to a fight tonight and thought you might want to go.”

           That caught me off guard. “Why?”

           He shrugged and headed around the outside of campus toward Felton Hall. “Because Dean’s fighting.”

           “Oh.” It was all I could say. It had been a few days since the last time I’d been to the apartment. And when I was, Dean stayed in his room with the door shut.

           “You might have fun,” Roman pushed. “And I’m sure Deano would appreciate the support.”

           For a moment, I stayed quiet. It seemed that he was blind to the growing unease that simmered between Dean and me. I leaned my head against the window and sighed. “I doubt Dean wants me there.”

           Roman pulled into a spot next to my dorm. He turned in his seat and took my hand in his, tugging me close. “He’s moody lately, baby girl. But he likes you, and it would mean something to him if you were there.”

           He looked at me with such openness in his eyes that I couldn’t help but agree.

***

           Roman led me by the hand through a maze of steel chairs to a row of bleachers that were pushed up against a wall. There was an 8-sided cage set up in the middle of the gym that looked like it would be the most painful thing in the world to run into. The feeling in the gym was electric. While I’d watched a fight or two during bus travel with the team in high school, I’d never really sought out one.

           Our seats were at the top of the bleachers. Roman said there were only two good places to sit at an event like this—high enough to see into the cage or close enough to see through it. I had to admit, it seemed like it would be easy to see what was going on. But I wasn’t entirely sure that I wanted to. I didn’t know much about MMA, but I’d seen enough fistfights to know that this wasn’t something I wanted to see close up.

           Dean’s fight was first. His opponent was a good foot taller than him and an easy hundred pounds heavier. I didn’t want to imagine what he might do to Dean by the time the fight was over. My heart jumped into my throat when Dean walked out and climbed into the cage. He looked angry as he bounced up and down, rocking his shoulders.

           “He’s going to get hurt,” I gasped, snatching at Roman’s hands. “He can’t fight that guy!”

           Roman cradled my head and pressed a kiss to my temple. “I promise… Dean can handle himself.”

           A bell rang and Dean shot across the cage, launching himself at his opponent. He landed a flurry of blows only to have himself shoved back with a hard right on the jaw. I watched, desperate as the two men exchanged punches and kicks and blows that must have ached from the moment they landed.

           I felt sick when, at the end of the first round, blood bloomed from a cut over Dean’s eye. “Ro,” I pled, knowing I looked half-terrified. “Please… stop this.”

           But there was no time, even if Roman had wanted to. The second round began more brutal than the first. I hid my face for half of it, feeling my heart turning upside down and my stomach tying itself in knots. I couldn’t make myself look. I didn’t want to see Dean bruised and bloody.

           It took almost half an hour for the fight to end. When the bell rang at last, I looked up to see Dean standing over his opponent. It was over, he had won, but he had a bruise blooming on his jaw, a busted lip, and the cut over his eye still oozed blood. He had one arm wrapped tight around his midsection. But he was grinning, his blue eyes bright and wide even from a distance.

           I didn’t even look at Roman. Terror and adrenaline warred in my veins, making my heart beat faster than it ever had before. I felt sick and dizzy, but I took off, bounding down the bleachers and pushing my way through the people around the outside of the cage. I just had to see… I had to get close enough to know that he was okay… that’s all it was…

           “Dean!” His name was out of my mouth before I could think. My fingers wound into the cage links so hard that they went white. “Dean!”

           As soon as he heard his name, he looked down. For an instant, the only expression on his face was rage. Then, it softened. Not quite happy to see me, but not completely cold either.

           I sniffled, aware for the first time that I was crying. “Dean?” My voice came out small and broken. I knew I looked like an overdramatic fool. I blinked away the tears and tried to make my fingers let go.

           He’s okay, I thought deliberately. That’s what I’d wanted to know after all. He probably wasn’t happy that I’d acted like an idiot during his fight. He was probably embarrassed by me.

           “Hey, princess,” came Dean’s voice from close by. I looked up and saw him right a few inches away, just on the other side of the cage. Up close, the bruises and scrapes and cuts looked even worse. I tried to breathe, but choked on my own tears. I hated the idea that he was in pain.

           “Dean…” I reached through the cage, as far as my fingers could go. Velcro ripped as he pulled off one of his gloves, knelt, and threaded his fingers with mine.

           He smiled, surprising the both of us by pressing a hurried kiss on my fingertips. “I’m okay, princess. I’m okay.”

           There was something new and bright in his eyes. Something I’d never seen there before. It terrified me even as it warmed me to my core.

           He glanced up. I followed his gaze to where Roman still sat up at the top of the bleachers. He watched us with a faint, slightly indulgent smile.

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it​ @vebner37​

[kinkywwefantasies]

Still The King

Pairing: Reader X Neville Rating: Explicit Length: 3.8k, long Neville said nothing for a very long time. Usually after big shows he was very chatty, but he usually retained his championship. Everyone was giving him a wide berth and sending him conciliatory looks. As if to say, "sorry" or "it happens" or "you'll win it back", but without the chance of getting their head bitten off by the Englishman. You sat next to him on the bus partly because he was a friend, and partly because it was one of the only seats left open. No one wanted to sit by the defeated king. To you, he seemed okay. He said hello when you sat down. He was showered and cleaned up. He was crushing candy on his phone. He was just a little quieter than usual. His temper was notorious in the locker room, and if he were going to lose it, tonight was certainly the occasion.

You sat next to him in the relative silence of the bus as you all waited to leave. It seemed the bus was almost full. Just waiting for one or two more people... oh God, oh no... Enzo. The bus was waiting for Enzo. "Hey, Nev," you said, seeing that Neville was sitting on the aisle seat. Too much access to Enzo if that was indeed who you were waiting for. "Can we switch seats? I drank a half gallon of water back stage. I'm gonna have to pee a lot." "Oh, sure," he said congenially. He even smiled. You were beginning to think he lost his mind with the title. Like he had snapped but wasn't showing obvious signs yet. "Hey, have you listened to this podcast? Is it worth downloading?" He asked, showing you his phone. "Are you okay?" You blurted, catching the attention of Seth Rollins and Roman Reigns. They were paying close attention to Neville as well. "Yeah," he chuckled. You saw Rollins and Reigns exchange a concerned look from the corner of your eye. "I-" Neville noticed the other two watching your conversation and lowered his voice to talk to you alone. "I'm actually feeling pretty good." "Have you lost your mind?!" You hissed, becoming angry just out of confusion. "No. I finally figured some things out." He said. You went over his words again, thinking you'd misheard his Jordy accent. "Look, I'll tell you more about it when there aren't so many prying ears around." He said looking directly at Reigns. "Y/n," Reigns said. You looked at him, still slack jawed and wide eyed. "You okay?" "Yeah, Roman... thanks for asking." You said, sitting back in your chair. "I'm just fine." You put your ear buds in and just stared at the chair in from of you for the next half-hour. Enzo boarded, the bus started moving, and everything was relatively normal. Then you realized Neville kept looking at you. You could feel Neville's gaze on you here and there through the ride. At first, you thought he was trying to gauge your reaction, but he continued to look at you. You adjusted in your seat nervously. The man next to you had clearly lost his mind, and now his attention seemed to be locked on you. He would go back to looking out the window for a while, but his gaze always found its way back. Then he tapped you. You took out your ear buds and looked at him. It seemed like whatever he was going to say got caught in his throat when you turned to him. In the moment, all he could do was look at you. "Were you... going to..." you said, realizing the way he was looking at you. The way his eyes moved over your features. The way his eyes lingered on your lips. "Say something?"

"Do you care if I'm the champion?" He asked seriously. "Of course I don't," you said honestly. "I only care that you're happy. You're my friend, Nev." "Could I ever be more than that to you? More than a friend?" He whispered, looking over to Reigns and Rollins to make sure they weren't listening. "Like... like your girlfriend?" You asked, feeling a blush come over your face. Until tonight, you hadn't even known he was interested, but the more you thought about it, the more things started making sense. The way he smiled at you, how the seat next to him was always open for you, how he texted you goodnight and good morning... how had you missed it? How had you not seen the obvious? The more you thought about it, the more you liked the idea of you and Neville. He was attractive, strong willed, passionate... "Sure, like a girlfriend," he said. You could see he was breathing hard and his eyes couldn't stop moving. His fingers fidgeted on his arm rest. He was nervous as hell over this question. It almost made you smile, but you didn't want Neville to think you were mocking him. You would never do that. Well, not in a serious way. "Well... What do you think?" He asked, as you took too long to answer. He took your hand in his and you looked down to where your fingers had automatically wrapped around his. "I mean, yes? But, it's..." he was staring at your lips again. "A new idea..." he leaned closer to you. "For me." You closed your eyes as Neville was about to kiss you when you were interrupted. "Hey! Here we are! Ontario, California! Man, I love to be in Cali. Am I right?!" Enzo was already standing to get off the bus and basically screaming as everyone around him slept or had private moments.

"Shut up, Enzo," Reigns grumbled from his seat across the aisle. "What!? I'm not allowed to be excited? I'm the new champ! Look at this belt!" Enzo said, waving the Cruiserweight title in your direction. You looked to Neville as his hand tightened on yours. His jaw was set hard and you could see his anger building. "Dude, Enzo, seriously. Shut your big mouth. You're being extremely disrespectful." Rollins added to Reigns' objection as he kept an eye on Neville. "What?! I'm just happy! Can't a guy be happy about a title win?" Enzo's stupid smiling face was floating over your seat now. Neville was locked on him like a sniper. "I mean, it's ugly right now, but I'm gonna fix it up." Neville let go of your hand and you could feel how coiled he was becoming. Ready to snap. "Enzo, enough!" You said, losing your temper before Neville did. You stood from your seat and put one foot toward him. "You won. Don't rub it in." The grinning Jersey boy turned to you, and wagged the title at you. "What are ya gonna do? What are /you/ gonna do if I keep talking about these, uh, see these right here?" He asked, pointing to Neville's side-plates, "These hideous side-plates?" He antagonized you both. "What are ya gonna do, y/n?"

"I will punch you in the face," you hissed. "Sit down, y/n," Rollins advised. "And Enzo, you should listen for once." "Oh no! I'm scared." Enzo mocked as he collected his things and headed toward the front of the bus. No one else had moved they were watching this play out. "The tough little girl is gonna hit me!" "I'm serious," you growled. "Listen to the woman," Reigns advised. "I'm not worried, Romie. She probably only hits as hard Neville, and that wasn't a problem for me, was it?" That was it. You were done. You marched straight up to Enzo. A chorus of "don't" and "stop" followed you down the aisle of the bus with a few "get him"s thrown in. "Wait-!" Was all Enzo said before you popped him good. Right in the mouth. Your fist screamed in pain, but it felt so good to hit him that it didn't matter. And the way his head flew back, his horribly bleached hair following in glorious fashion, was a memory you'd cherish. "Y/n!" Neville was behind you, grabbing your waist just a second too late. "Fuck! My lip!" Enzo cried from the floor of the bus. There were some cautious giggles and a few full out laughs. And lots of clapping. "Told ya ta listen, dumbass," Reigns said from behind you. "This is all your fault at this point. She said she would hit you, and you kept going." "Whatever." Enzo grumbled as he stood up. "I got a title to improve." He spit then left to a chorus of boos. Reigns, Rollins, Neville and you were the only people that had moved. Nev was still holding your waist. You turned to him. "I can't believe you hit him for me," Neville said. You put your hands on his shoulders and gazed in his eyes, barely aware that the whole bus was watching you. "That's what girlfriends do," you told him before leaning up to kiss him. And holy cow, did he kiss you back. "Aw!" You heard Bayley squee from beside you. You also heard a "get it girl!" from Nia. When you opened your eyes again you saw Reigns, Rollins and the rest grinning and clapping. "Guess I'm a crowd favorite tonight," you whispered to Neville as you hugged. He laughed. "Always been my favorite," he said. "Sorry you lost to that jackass," you replied. "Let me make it up to you." "Yes, please," he chuckled. "And let's get some ice on that hand." "Yeah... ow."

***

Just as you and Neville had finally pushed Sami out of the hotel room to go stay with your roommate, some one knocked on the door. You thought it would be Sami to recount the whole ordeal again, and tell you and Neville how you two were a cute couple again, and how he was happy to stay some where else, but it was someone from HR. "Miss y/l/n?" He asked. "Yes," you said, knowing what this was about. Someone with a big mouth told on you. "I'm here to discuss the incident that happened on the bus earlier," he said. "Is it true that Enzo Amore provoked you into a physical response?" "He was antagonizing her," Neville said, putting his arm around your waist and pulling you to his side. "Yes, that's what I've heard," he said. "Mr. Reigns said you gave fair warning to Mr. Amore, but what you did still counts as assault." He said, looking down his nose at you. You felt yourself curl into Neville in shame. You knew you shouldn't feel bad about what you did, but his attitude made you shameful. "Look, can this wait until tomorrow?" Neville asked, stroking his thumb over your side to comfort you. "Well, I'm just here to tell you Mr. Amore won't be seeking your suspension or termination. This is an official warning. If it happens again, you will be fired." He said. "Have a good evening." And then he was gone. "Woah," you said, looking to Neville. "Why would Amore let me off the hook like that?" "He knows if he didn't, I'd beat his ass," Neville shrugged like the answer was obvious.

"Oh really?" You smiled at him. His serious face broke and you realized he was joking. You pushed him back into the room until he was backed up to the bed. Giving him a gentle shove, he fell back onto the mattress. "Yes," he breathed, looking up at you as you crawled over him. "Maybe he's scared of me," you said, ghosting your lips over Neville's cheek all the way to his ear. "I /am/ the one who hit him." "You did," he said, moving your hair off your neck, placing gentle kisses on your skin. "And it was very sexy," he whispered to you, making you shiver. "You're sexy anyways, but that was especially hot." "Mmm," you hummed in appreciation of his words, "why was that so sexy?" "You're a passionate woman," he said, before rolling both of you over. You gasped as he found purchase on top of you. He had expertly maneuvered between your legs. "I intend to bring that passion out."

"Please do," you sighed as he started kissing your neck again. His lips found the perfect spots to cling, lick, and bite. One of his hands in your hair. The other on your side. Your body needed more attention than that, so you took his hand from your side and placed it over your breast. "Fuck," he cursed. Then his lips attached to yours, pressing insistently so they would open. He slid his tongue between your lips and you moaned, arching into him. "Jesus, y/n, you've no idea how much I've dreamed of this." "I don't," you replied, taking a handful of his shirt in an attempt to get closer to him. Your other hand was wandering down his back when you came across the dimples in his lower back. "Christ," you said before you could stop yourself. You'd never been with a man as fit as Neville, and your genuine reaction had been to curse. Neville chuckled. "You like those?" You smiled and blushed, turning your face to the side. "Yes." You said, running your fingers over the definition in his back. "Oh, then you'll like this," he smiled, pulling his shirt over his head. He revealed his gorgeously sculpted torso and your mouth watered. You pushed him back so he would sit up. Then you began kissing his chest. He chuckled at that, so you gave him a playful bite. That earned you a moan, and you smiled. "You like pain?" You asked, giving a nip at the top of his abs.

"Not usually," he groaned. "I like the way you do that, though." You continued down his body at a slow pace, and he breathed harder as you got closer to his waistband. "That's enough," he huffed as he pushed you back down. His hands moved to your shirt and pulled it over your head. Then to your jeans. Your bra and panties didn't match, but it didn't matter a single bit. "You're gorgeous." "Aw," you said. "Thank you." "No, thank you... for sharing yourself with me. I've wanted you so long. Since I first saw you, actually." He said, planting kisses on your tummy as he reached under you to unhook your bra. "The first day you showed up at WWE, I thought I was seeing an angel." "Aw, Nev," you giggled. "You're making me blush." "I know," he smiled, caressing your face. He kissed both of your cheeks, then your nose, and then your lips. "I just needed something to push me to finally say how I felt." He confessed. "Like... losing your title?" You asked, holding his face so he would look you in the eye. "Yeah, kind of. I take a lot of self worth from work, and I know that's bad. I need to focus on my personal life, too. So when I lost something professionally, I wanted to gain something personally or else..." "You'd go crazy," you finished for him. He nodded. "So, am I like, a consolation prize?" "No!" He said, holding you closer. "Not at all. I just needed the push. I just needed a good enough reason to go for it. I was... scared to say something. You could have said no, and I would have lived with it. If you turned me down, well, it was already a bad day anyway." "So, I'm...?" You didn't know what to make of that.

"You're more treasured than any material object in the world," he said, kissing your nose. "More than the Universal Title?" You asked. "Definitely," he said, finally pulling your bra off. His facial hair tickled the sensitive skin of your breasts as he placed kisses on them. You arched into his attention. "The Crown Jewels?" You moaned as his tongue swirled around your nipple. "God, more treasured than that." "The Hope Diamond?" You asked as his fingertips slid under the elastic of your panties. "Garbage compared to you," he said. His lips connected with yours again as his fingers found your core. He knew just where to touch to make you gasp and moan. "Fuck that feels good," you moaned, and he responded by pressing his erection to your thigh. His fingers worked magic as he rubbed against your thigh for his own relief. "Oh, stop!" You cried. "Not yet." "Stop what?" He asked, freezing in place. His fingers still making contact with your dripping core. "I want to come with you inside me," you sighed. "Not right now." "You can do both," he whispered, fingers twitching and making you shiver. "Plus, I want you soaking wet when I take you." You mewled helplessly at his words. He moved his fingers again and your whole body jolted. "Is this okay?" He asked.

"Yes," you gasped. "Yes! Keep going, Nev. Yes." Your whole body shook as you came to Neville's soft touches. He kissed your temple as your relaxed beneath him. You could barely move in your blissful state as he pulled your panties off, leaving you completely exposed to him. "God, you're so beautiful," he said in awe of you. He undressed all the way as well and laid beside you. "I can't believe you're here... that this is happening." You rolled on your side and smiled at him. "Believe it." You kissed him quickly as he rolled you on to your back. "Ready?" He asked. His chest heaved with barely contained excitement. His pulse pounded under your finger tips. His pupils were blown wide. Making him wait any longer would be torture, so you replied quickly. "Ready," you said. He leaned down to kiss you as he pushed his hips forward. You reached between the two of you to help guide him in. He was the perfect size. A little longer than most but not too wide. Neville went slow, letting you enjoy the sensation of being filled with him before fucking you in earnest. It felt incredible. You were slick enough to avoid tears even though it had been a grip since you had sex. Your pulse pounded in your chest as you listened to his groans of pleasure, gripping his shoulders, his arms, his ass, just to feel more of him. He kissed the side of your face as he went deeper and deeper finally bottoming out. You moaned in desire as you felt him fully seated in you, and he rested there for just a moment. "You feel like heaven," he sighed, running a hand through your hair, bringing your face to his for a deep kiss. "You feel amazing," you moaned, pushing your hips up toward his to get some friction. That was enough to get him to thrust again. It felt like he was made for you as his dick slid over your g-spot again and again. "Nev! That's perfect!" "You like that?" He asked, speeding up. "Yes!" You said, gripping his shoulders harder as you got closer to release. "That's it!" "No, no," he said, pulling out of you. "Not yet." "Nev!! Please!" You cried as he rolled on to his back next to you. "You want it? Come work for it," he grinned, patting his thigh. He was beckoning you to climb on top. You obliged Neville and started riding him. If you thought it felt good when he was on top, then this felt amazing. "Yeah, baby," he encouraged. "Ride me like that."

You put your hands on his spectacular chest and closed your eyes as his hands fondled your breasts. He occasionally let out a stuttered sigh, sounding completely lost in pleasure. You looked down to see him looking up at you. A blush high on his cheek bones, eyes glazed over, and locked on you. It was intense. His hands moved to your hips as you chased your own pleasure, giving him just as much in return. "I'm close, Nev," you moaned, grinding even a little more. God, it felt good. "Come, baby," he told you. "Come for me." "Uh! Yes," you cried. "Baby, it feels so good." You said, leaning your body flush to his. "You feel so good." "Jesus, so do you," he said, thrusting up into you as well. You began shaking, twitching, as you got closer, and he could feel it. "Yes, go on." He said, gripping your hips harder. "Ah! Neville!" You screamed, falling over the edge. Your insides squeezed him as you came hard around his perfect cock.

"Oh God," he said, rolling the two of you over quickly. He began slamming into you, prolonging your orgasm and racing toward his own release. He groaned deeply as he pumped into you a few more times, and then stilled over you. He took heaving breaths as he held you close. "Oh my God, Neville," you said, running your hand through his hair. "Oh my God." "I know," he sighed, holding the back of your head to cradle you to his chest. "That was amazing." You pushed him back a bit, and he settled beside you. He didn't take his eyes off you for a second. You continued to comb your hand through his hair, lingering around his temples. "You're still a king," you whispered to him. "Title or not." He smiled. "You think so?" "Absolutely," you said, propping up on your elbows for a kiss. His hand slid into your hairline as he kissed you back, slowly and passionately. "How's your hand?" He asked. "Oh, I forgot about it, so it can't be that bad," you smiled at him sleepily. Coming so hard, and twice at that, drained your energy in an inviting way. "Good," he said, pecking your lips and then standing up from the bed. You made a small noise of disappointment. He smiled at that. "Sorry, I want to wash up a bit."

"I want to cuddle," you moaned, smiling back. You knew he'd be right back, but you just didn't want to be separated from him right now. "We will," he said, putting a knee on the bed to lean over and kiss you again. He went to the bathroom and the shower turned on. You snuggled into the hotel mattress. Mind becoming foggy. Then a thought crossed your mind, and Neville came back. "Are you a good guy now? In the ring?" You asked. "Oh... I suppose?" He said, sliding under the covers wth you. Washed up but still naked. You noticed he brought you a warm wash cloth, and smiled in gratitude. "Yes, I should think so." "A good guy with a temper," you giggled, subtly cleaning up, and tossing the wash cloth. "I dig it." "A righteous king," he said, pulling you to his side. "And you shall be my princess."

"Mmm, I like the sound of that," you sighed, breathing in his scent as you rested your head on his chest. "I rather like it too," he purred, looking very sleepy himself. "Get some rest, princess. Tomorrow is going to be a big day." "Yes, sir," you purred. "Oh, now /I/ like the sound of that." He chuckled tiredly. "We will definitely explore that later." "Promise?" You said, curling into him further. "Absolutely."

[cwnerd12]

I’ll Be Okay

“I’ll Be Okay” David walks into a cavernous file storage room. Asher, Abby, Joel, Shay, and Monique sit on the ground, papers strewn around them reading files. David, “What is this?” Asher, “Fuckin’ files, man. We found our files. You don’t have a file, you have a box.” David sits down, Asher slides a box over to him. David opens it and thumbs through the folders in there. David, “Who else has a file here?” Joel, “Everyone. Seriously look at this room. There’s a file for everyone the MSS has ever dealt with.” Abby reads from the file in her hands, “Franklin Hatch, Jr. Known pseudonyms: Frankie, Frank, Jr. They forgot to include ‘Dumbass.’” David, “I like Frankie.” Abby, “Okay, but seriously, if you yell, ‘Hey, dumbass!’ Frankie will turn around and say, ‘What?’” Shay, “I can’t believe this. Shay Mendoza: confirmed homosexual. I’m trying to overthrow the king, and that’s what’s important about me.” Joel, “Seriously? For you, that’s like saying, ‘Asher Levinson, confirmed Jew.’” David flips through his file, “Oh, I got a confirmed homosexual, too.” Monique, “Me, too. Apparently trans and bi people don’t exist.” David, “We’re unicorns. No wonder they can’t catch us.” Abby, “Aw, I didn’t get one, I’m sad. Especially considering the number of times I’ve banged the princess.” Joel, “Jack didn’t get one, either. You’re only a confirmed homosexual if it’s convenient for you to be one.” David, “Where’s Jack’s file?” Asher, “It doesn’t say anything about his condition. Sorry.” David stands up and begins to go down the aisle, looking intensely at the shelves. Asher, “What’re you looking for, David?” David, “I don’t know if they’re going to have his file, but I’m looking for a guy named Ivan Waters.” Asher, “Who?” Shay, “That’s Wednesday’s dad.” Asher, “The filing system here is kind of complicated, but I can find him. Why are you looking for him in particular?” David, “Wednesday doesn’t know what happened to him, just that he didn’t come home from work one day. Jesus- if we can start giving answers to families who are missing someone…” his voice trails off for a moment, “We need to start making these files public. We have to figure out a way to give them to the people who want them.” Asher, “There’s a lot of missing people in here.” David, “We can set up some tables. Get a bunch of our soldiers working them. People come up, request a file, and we send someone back to find it, and then we give it to them.” Shay, “We can do it, but it’s gonna be a fuckin’ mess.” David, “Then let it be a fuckin’ mess! Silas built his kingdom on secrets, and now we’re gonna tear it down!”

Beth talks to two AFG soldiers who were there when Yuri died. One, named Regina, “We were pinned down in this stairwell, Reinhardt was firing at us, but we couldn’t get him. Joel said something to Shay.” Another soldier, Ezra, “He asked for cover.” Regina, “Yeah. Then Joel ordered Yuri to go after Reinhardt.” Beth, “Joel told me that Yuri just ran out.” Regina, “No.” Ezra, “He definitely gave the order.” Beth thinks quietly for a moment, “Do you think it was like…. something with the twelve Queens, like… He knew he wasn’t going to make it out of that?” Regina and Ezra look at each other uncomfortably. Ezra, “I dunno. He did have Shay’s unit covering for him.” Regina, “It all happened really fast. I don’t know if Joel would have had time to think it all through.” Beth, but if it just happened, why would Joel lie about it?” Regina, “Do you really think Joel would have just sent him out to be killed? Why would he do that?” Beth looks uncomfortably at Regina, and then says, “I don’t know. I- I’ve been with Yuri for a long time. We’ve been through some shit together. I’m still trying to make sense of losing him.” Regina, “Yeah, Yuri was a good guy.” Ezra, “Everyone’s lost someone, Beth. I’m not trying to minimize your loss, but, you aren’t alone here.” Beth, “I kinda am.” Regina, “What do you mean?” Beth shakes her head, “Nothing.”

In his darkened hospital room, Jack lays with a bandage around his head while Helen softly reads to him from The Wizard of Oz. Dr. Hussein enters, “How is Jack?” Helen, quietly, “He has a headache.” Jack grimaces. Dr. Hussein looks at Jack in concern, “Persistent headaches after a cranioplasty can be signs of a complication, but all of Jack’s scans and x-rays look good.” Helen, “Should we be worried?” Dr. Hussein sighs, “I’m keeping an eye on him, but, sometimes surgery just hurts. It’s a good thing you’re still here for him.” Helen, “I was just reading to him.” Dr. Hussein, “Can you see to read?” Helen smiles sadly, “I’ve read The Wizard of Oz to Seth enough times that I can almost recite it from heart.” Dr. Hussein, “All right. Well, just like always, call for me if there’s any sudden changes. You hang in there, Jack!” She leaves. Helen looks at Jack, “Do you want me to keep going, or do you need a break?” Jack moans softly.

Early morning, Monique steps out of the MSS building, and sees a line of people already wrapping around the block.

Inside the lobby of the MSS building, a line of folding tables is set up, AFG soldiers sitting at them, helpers standing behind them. Abby gives instructions, David behind her, “Okay, just remember, some of these people have been wondering what happened to their loved one for over twenty years. They’re going to be emotional, and you need to be sensitive to that.” David steps up, “Today’s gonna be a long day, and it’s probably gonna be emotionally hard, but it’s really important that we do this. Okay, so, open the doors, let’s get going.” Someone opens the doors, and people start to file in.

Monique returns to the MSS building, which has an even longer line wrapping around it, carrying two plastic bags stuffed with cans of spray paint. She leaves them by the front door, and goes inside. She sees David overseeing the delivery of a file and goes up to him, “David, come with me for a second, I have an idea.” David, “We’re pretty busy here, can it wait?” Monique, “Nope. Get Abby, Shay, and Asher here, as well.” Cut to: Monique, hands David, Shay, Abby, and Asher cans of spray paint. Monique, “Every single person in that line lost someone they love. We’re going to deface this building with their names. David, “What?” Monique takes off the lid of a can, shakes it, goes over to the wall, and sprays ISAIAH CLEMENS on it, “We’re making a memorial to everyone we’ve lost. David, you can put your dad and brother.” Asher, “Monique this is brilliant.” He goes over to the wall and paints out LEO AND NORA LEVINSON, with a star of David next to it. Shay goes over and paints RODRIGO MENDOZA. Abby looks down at her can, “I don’t know if I want to add my dad to this.” Monique, “Then start passing out cans.” David, “Are you sure this is a good idea? What if people start painting on the names of people we’ve killed?” Monique, “Then it’ll be a memorial to them, too. You want to convince people you should be king, right? Then why not show them a thousand reasons why Abner shouldn’t be king? Besides, we don’t kill civilians, right?” David nods uneasily, “Okay.” He goes over and paints JOHN SHEPHERD, ELI SHEPHERD in modest letters.

Inside, Monique hands a can of paint to a group of soldiers that includes Beth and Regina, “We’re putting the names of people we’ve lost up on the front of the building, making a memorial. If you’ve lost anyone, you can add their name.” Regina, “You should put Yuri up, Beth.” Beth takes the can, “Yeah, I will.”

Outside, AFG soldiers and civilians spray paint the wall, which is starting to fill. Beth looks at the wall, sees John and Eli written on there. She looks around and sees David patiently listening to a crying woman tell her story, with a TV news camera recording. Beth sighs and turns to the wall. She finds an empty spot. She shakes the spray paint can, and sprays YURI HITT onto the wall. As she makes the final T, she’s overcome and has to cry. She drops the can angrily and looks back at David. She sees Joel standing off to the side and goes up to him, “Why did you tell me that Yuri just ran out?” Joel looks around, “What?” Beth, “Regina and Ezra told me that you ordered Yuri to run.” Joel thinks, “Oh, yeah, you know what? I did. I must have gotten the memory confused with another time Yuri just ran out. Rashomon and all.” Beth eyes him skeptically, “So did you order him?” Joel, “Shay was covering him.” Beth, “You sent him out to die.” Joel, “You’ve been with the AFG long enough, you have to know that this is what war is like.” Beth, “Did you do it on purpose?” Joel, “What? Why would I do that?” Beth hesitates, not knowing what to say, “I- I heard there was confrontation between you and Yuri.” Joel, “Where he accused you of fucking David. There’s no truth to that, is there?” Beth, sheepishly, defeated, “No.” Joel, “So I have no reason to want to harm Yuri. His death is a tragedy. But he was a soldier. I gave him an order and he followed.” Beth, “I want to talk to David.” Joel, “Yeah, well, you can’t right now.”

David sleeps in his cot, but is woken up by a flash of lightning and sudden BOOM of thunder. His eyes shoot open, and he realizes it’s just thunder, “Oh, fuck.” Flash, boom. He sits up and rubs his face. flash, boom. David goes over to the desk and begins digging around. He pulls out a bottle of meds. He opens it. Flash, boom. David jumps and accidentally drops the bottle, “Fuck!” He turns a light on and begins scooping up pills. Flash, boom. David cries out in frustration. From his sofa, Reinhardt, “Thunderstorms are a bitch, aren’t they?” David, “Shut the fuck up and go back to sleep.” He takes a pill and drinks from a bottle of water. Flash, boom. Reinhardt, “Sounds just like being under mortar fire. Took me a long time to not hate thunderstorms.” David, “What the fuck do you have to be traumatized about?” Reinhardt, “Watched half my unit die when their transport got hit by an RPG.” Flash, boom. David shudders. Reinhardt sits up and lifts his shirt, revealing two bullet wounds and a laparotomy scar, “Got shot.” David lifts his shirt, “Got stabbed, by Alek Amal, no less.” Reinhardt rakes his shirt off as best he can, and turns his back, revealing a long scar, “Some asshole high on angel dust who did not want to get arrested.” David takes his shirt off and shows the burn scars on his shoulder, “I got bombed and then spent three days and three nights in the woods with no food and no water.” Reinhardt, “You just have to keep one-upping me, don’t you?” David, “I’m an asshole.” Reinhardt, “You never did let me sign your cast.” David, “Where are your pens?” Reinhardt, “Top left drawer.” David opens the drawer and takes out a pen. He goes over and hands it to Reinhardt. He sticks his cast out, and Reinhardt signs it. He glances down at a scar on David’s ankle, “Where did you get that one?” David, “My brothers tried to run me over with a golf cart.” Reinhardt laughs, “I forget, sometimes, that you’re just a kid from Bethlehem. Honestly, I never would have guessed you were capable of getting scars from something as mundane as your dumbass older brothers.”

In the morning, Monique adjusts cuff lengths on Asher’s formal uniform jacket. Shay and Joel also get measured and fitted. David comes in, looking tired, “Hey, Monique, what do you want?” Monique, “Finishing uniforms today. Do you and Abby still have yours?” David, “Yeah, I think so. Can you make three in a day?” Monique, “Four, I’m making one for me, too. I’ve been working all week, and I’ve got some friends helping me. We’ll have everything ready for Council, don’t worry.” Shay, “We’re gonna look fuckin’ snazzy.” Asher, “Get any sleep last night, David?” David, “No.” Asher, “You gonna be okay tomorrow?” David, “Define okay. I haven’t been okay in a while.” Asher, “Are you gonna have a meltdown the moment you see Gerald and Abner, or are you gonna hold it together?” David, “I’ll be okay.” Asher, “Are you sure?” David, “I’m sure.”

David talks to Dr. Othman, “I fucking have to look Gerald in the face tomorrow. I never fucking should have agreed to Council. It’s not fair that he gets to decide whether or not I get to be king.” Othman, “Well, in all fairness, he’s probably not looking forward to it, either. You did kind of thwart his invasion plan.” David, “He still got what he wanted that day.” Othman, “What if he sides with you?” David, “I dunno… he might. He told me I was king after he shot Silas.” He takes in a deep breath and slowly lets it out, “I have no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow. I’ve got a million things that I’m scared of, and every single one is staring me in the face right now.” Othman, “You’re allowed to be scared.” David, “I can’t show any fear at Council. Kings don’t show fear.” Othman, “Being brave doesn’t mean not being afraid.” David, “I’d rather be facing down a tank right now.”

Abner watches a video of Silas at Council, Rose sitting next to him. On the video, Gerald says, “I will give Gilboa an extra fifteen miles of borderland, but Gath retains control of the Port of Sorrows.” Silas, “Why don’t you go ahead and fuck my wife while you’re at it? There’s no way in hell I’m agreeing to that skid mark of a deal.” Rose mutes the video, “Silas could get away with vulgarity, but you can’t.” Abner, “I know that!” On screen, Silas makes jack-off hands. Abner, “I’m not Silas, I accept that. I’m not going to win by pulling off a stunt like Silas. I’m going to win by simply being right. I am the legal king of Gilboa. Shepherd has no right to the crown.” Rose, “Shepherd’s not going down without a fight, and he has charisma and popular support. If I were you, I’d be preparing a compromise.” Abner, “Silas would never compromise.” Rose, “But you aren’t Silas.” Abner sighs deeply, and shakes his head, “Silas would be ashamed of me. I’ve disgraced him by reaching this point.” Rose, “Silas would only be ashamed of you for wallowing in self-pity. He couldn’t stand that kind of weakness.” Abner, “I have to face Gerald. I don’t know if I can look him in the eye without trying to kill him.” Rose, “You know, you’re not unlike Gerald. He, too, never had Silas’s charisma or panache, but he’s led his country through real hardship, and re-built from total destruction.” Abner, “You’re saying that about the man who killed your husband and shot Jack.” Rose, “I know. And I’m praying that when I see him, I don’t rip his throat out.”

In Reinhardt’s office, David dresses up in his wrinkled uniform while Monique inspects. Reinhardt watches from his spot on the sofa. Monique, “Well, it needs to be pressed, but the fit looks good.” David tugs on the jacket, “Good.” Monique, “Where are your medals? There’s no way in hell I’m letting you sit down without those.” David, “They’re in my bag. Don’t worry.” His phone rings, he accepts a call from Laura, “Hello?” Laura, “Hello, David, I’m on my way to Council. I have some people with me that I think you’ll be glad to see.” She hands the phone over to Jessie, “Hey, baby! I can’t wait to see you.” David, “Mom?! What- what are you doing, it’s not safe for you to come to Gilboa!” Jessie, “I have protection from Laura, and she says that with the MSS being taken over, there’s no one to arrest me. I’m perfectly safe, don’t worry.” David, “Mom, I still don’t know if this is a good idea.” Jessie, “David, it’s worth the risk if it means I get to see you again. I’ve missed you so much! Ever night, I’m scared of what I’ll see on the news. I need to see in person that you’re still in one piece. How have you been?” David struggles to think of what to say, “I- I’m holding it together. It’s been rough, but, I’m okay.” Jessie, “You come to my hotel room and we’ll order room service. How does that sound?” David, “Sounds good.” Jessie, “Tell Abby her brother is coming with us. Would you like to say hi to him?” In the background, Frankie yells, “David, bro, what’s up?!” David, “I’m okay, Mom, really.” Jessie, “I’ll see you in a few hours, then, okay?” David, “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you then.” He ends the conversation, “Fuck.” Monique, “What’s wrong?” David, “My mom’s gonna be in Shiloh in a few hours, she wants me to have dinner with her. Do you have anything nice I can wear?” Monique, “Don’t you dare wear your uniform shirt, I am not spending all night washing soup stains out of it.” David, “I don’t want to show up to dinner wearing an old t-shirt and cargo pants.” Reinhardt, “I’ve got an extra suit in my closet. For nights when I want to go from the office to dinner with the wife. You’re free to wear it.” Monique looks from Reinhardt to David, “Ought to fit you good, too. Get it out, I’ll press it, along with your uniform.”

David, dressed in Reinhardt’s suit, walks out into a hallway. Beth approaches him, “Can I talk to you?” David, “Make it quick, I have to go dinner.” Beth, “I asked Joel twice about how Yuri died. He gave me two different versions of what happened. At first, he said that Yuri just ran. Then, two people told me that Joel gave him orders to run. When I asked Joel again, he said he gave Yuri the order.” David, “And?” Beth, “Does Joel know about us?” David, “What? What does that have to do with anything?” Beth, “I’m trying to make sense about why Joel would lie to me about how Yuri died.” David, “Are you trying to ask me something?” Beth, “Did Joel send Yuri to die?” David, “No! That’s absurd!” Beth, “Did you tell him to do it?” David, “No!” Beth, “Why should I believe you?” David, “Because I don’t care about you that much!” Long, awful, dramatic pause. Beth, “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna tell anyone about us.” David, “I don’t know what you want me to apologize for, but, I’m sorry.” Beth, “I really hope you become king, David. I hope you get reunited with Jack. I hope you two have a long and happy life together. It’s what Yuri and I fought for. It’s what Yuri died for.” She turns around and leaves.

Outside the MSS building, David crosses the street and unlocks an SUV. Before getting in, he turns and looks at the building, now covered in names of those who have died. He stares for a moment, the enormity of it all weighing down on him.

David knocks on the door of a fancy hotel room, and Jessie opens it. Behind her, the other five Shepherd boys yell, “David!” David’s eyes widen with surprise, but then he says, “Oh my god, seriously?” Ethan, “You didn’t think we’d actually miss this, did you?” Jessie hugs him as tightly as she can, “Oh, David, baby. I’ve missed you so much.” David hugs her back, “I’ve missed you, too, Mom.” He goes to each brother and hugs and greets them in turn. James, “Where’d you get the nice suit?” David, “Um, I’m borrowing it from Caesar Reinhardt.” James, “Are you serious?” David, “Yeah.” Jessie looks on with pride, “It’s been too long since I’ve had all my boys together.” Cut to: David eats dinner at a table, Jessie across from him, the brothers spread around him. Jessie goes on, “You wouldn’t believe what those alligators can get into. One got into the pool in my condo building. They had to call a trapper to come get it.” Sean, “Shoulda called David. He’d have taken care of it.” David, annoyed slightly, “I am not going to just go after an alligator.” Sean, “What? After tanks and terrorists, an alligator oughta be easy.” David, “I had to learn the hard way to not just run after every scary thing that moves. Doing that, you get a bullet in the leg.” Sean, “Oh, lighten up. I’m just kidding.” Robert, “You know how much you used to complain about all your teachers calling you Robert?” David, “Yeah.” Robert, “Not long after I landed in Gilboa, some asshole tried to have me arrested, saying I was you.” David, “You’re lucky they didn’t keep you under arrest. Abby’s brother was arrested and tortured. Probably would have died if we hadn’t have gotten him out.” Robert, “Jesus, do you laugh at anything any more?” David, “Sorry. I’m just tired. I’ve kind of got a lot on my mind,” he deflects the subject, “Are you making friends in Moab, Mom?” Jessie, “Oh, I’m part of a book club. It’s a wonderful group of ladies, we meet once a month. Everyone always asks me how my son is doing, I always tell them, I don’t know, he doesn’t tell me anything! And of course, Tala arrived a few months ago, and she’s lovely. I get invited to lunch with Queen Laura every once and a while. She just thinks the world of you, David.” Ethan, “Everyone thinks the world of David.” Arthur, “Don’t be so bitter.” Ethan, “I’m not! I just remember when we used to be the Shepherd boys. Now we’re all just David’s brothers.” Arthur, “That sounds like being bitter to me.” Jessie, “Boys! Don’t fight during dinner! This is our first night together in two years, I want it to be nice!” Ethan and Arthur, “Sorry, Mom!” James clears his throat, “So, uh, David. What do you think is gonna happen tomorrow?” David, “I’m gonna sit down to a debate with all the monarchs of North America to decide who should be the King of Gilboa. I have no idea what’s gonna happen after that.” Ethan, “Since we’re your brothers, do we get to be princes?” David, “Depends on whether or not I’m willing to forgive you for all the times you tried to drown me.” Ethan, “I was not trying to drown you!” David, “I was swimming and you threw rocks at me.” Ethan, “That’s just what brothers do! Besides, Eli always came to your rescue. He was always looking out for you.” Arthur, quietly, “Eli’d be proud of you, David.” Jessie, “He would. So would your father.” David smiles sadly. Later, David and Jessie say goodbye to the bros. Ethan, “We’re staying at this cheap, shitty hotel, but if you need anything at all from us, call us, okay?” Sean, “You’re gonna kick ass tomorrow, David!” James, “Yeah, kick Linus’s ass for all of us, okay?” David, “I will. Don’t worry.” Jessie, “You boys don’t so anything stupid until then.” All the bros, “Yes, mom!” Jessie, “All right, good night!” David, “Night.” Jessie closes the door. David, quietly, “So, what did you want to talk about, Mom?” Jessie, “Come sit with me.” She goes over to the sofa and sits. David follows her. She looks down at his hand, and takes the injured one in hers. The cast is now decorated with the signatures of all the bros. Jessie, “How did you get this?” David, “I punched Alek Amal too hard.” Jessie sighs, “Oh, David. It drives me crazy when I don’t know what you’re doing, but when I find out, I wish I hadn’t.” David, “I’m sorry, Mom.” Jessie, “You don’t have to apologize. You’re doing the right thing.” David, “Not always.” Jessie, “What do you mean?” David shakes his head, “Nothing. I just can’t remember the last time I knew what the right thing was. I’ve had to make a lot of really hard decisions, and I don’t know if I’ve always made the right choice.” Jessie smiles proudly, “That’s good. It means you still care.” David, “I’ve done some really terrible things, Mom.” Jessie, “Oh, David, baby.” He starts to cry. Jessie hugs him. Jessie, “You said you wouldn’t disappoint me by becoming a bad person. And I’m not disappointed. I am so, so proud of you. You are good. You’ll be okay.” David sobs into her shoulder.

[sasasarararara]

The Infallible Girl: Bonus mini chapter

Chapter 2.25

Isis chose a seat at the very back of the bus. It allowed her to see the rest of the bus’ passengers without having to turn around conspicuously. It also meant that nobody could sneak up behind her. Though the Millennium Torc hadn’t made so much as a peep since her vision of Malik and Rishid, the vantage point of the back seat still made her feel more secure.

The bus lurched to a start just as the sun began to rise. Isis settled into the metal seat and began to sort through the contents of her new travel bag. Much to her delight she found a few of the books she’d been reading nestled among the more practical items. The driver had told her that between the rough desert roads and the stops they would be making along the way, the drive was expected to take roughly eight hours. The books would provide some much-needed entertainment. She selected the one about the magician and began to read.

Isis only realized she’d fallen asleep when she began to dream. The rickety bus fell away and she found herself standing in the desert, but the barren patch of wilderness they’d been driving through was replaced by a sprawling temple complex. Stepped pyramids surrounded a massive building that, judging by the grandiose architecture, appeared to be a palace. It took Isis a few moments to realize that she knew exactly where she was. She’d read about it many times and had even seen it mapped out, but it looked so different in person. She was in the Pharaoh’s Court.

As she gazed in wonder at the opulence around her, Isis began to notice the people milling about.             Priests, scribes, and scholars roamed the court and mingled openly with each other. Servants darted from building to building running errands and guards stood stalwart at their posts.

A small group of people stood out from the rest of the court. Three men and a younger girl who looked about her age stood in a small huddle some distance away from the other people. Instead of the practical linen tunics and kilts worn by the others, the men were dressed in long, flowing robes and positively dripped with golden jewelry. The girl, on the other hand, wore the shortest dress Isis had ever seen and jewelry that, while still excessive, seemed marginally less decadent than the men’s.

As Isis stared at the gleaming foursome, one of the men looked up from their conversation and waved companionably in her direction. Isis glanced behind her to see who his gesture was intended for but saw nobody. She looked back at them in confusion only to discover that now they were all staring at her. The original waver beckoned for her to join their group.

Isis considered running away. Only select people were allowed so close to the palace, and in Aquilah’s hand-me-down jeans and baggy pink T-shirt she was sure it was painfully obvious that she did not belong. But the sparkling group didn’t seem upset by her presence. The girl was jumping up and down in excitement and the man who’d waved to her was beaming. In any case, she was sure this was a dream. An extremely realistic dream, but a dream nonetheless. She shrugged to herself and began to make her way over to them.

She hadn’t made it half way when the girl, unable to restrain herself, sprinted to meet her. She launched herself at Isis and wrapped her in a hug so tight it squeezed the air from her lungs. “Isis!” she exclaimed. “You’re back! It feels like you’ve been gone for so long! Did you find the pharaoh? What about Seth? What are you wearing? I like it!”

Isis found her arms wrapping around the girl’s waist almost of their own accord. Normally her instincts would have caused her to freeze up or struggle to free herself from the grasp of a stranger, but somehow this girl didn’t feel strange at all. A mixture of familiar emotion arose within her. It was a combination of annoyance, concern, and overshadowing everything, love. Isis had no idea who the girl was, but she was certain they somehow knew each other.

Gentle hands began to pry the girl away before Isis could attempt to make sense of the situation. “Whoa, Mana,” said Isis’ rescuer. “Give her some air.”

Isis looked up at a man who could have stepped out of a classic Egyptian mural. As he delicately pulled the girl off Isis, she saw the other two men approaching behind him. One was bald with a tattoo around his head, and the other was tall with a gold trimmed veil over his hair. Again there was a sense of familiarity. Feelings of respect, companionship, trust, and yet more love washed over her.

“Mana, I don’t think this is her,” the tall man said. “At least not yet. Did you not notice that she’s shorter than you?”

“And she still has the Torc,” added the bald man. “When Isis comes back she won’t need it.”

“Who are… I mean, how do I know you?” Isis asked. She was positive that she not only knew these people but cared very deeply for them. Judging by the girl’s greeting and the expressions the men were wearing, the feeling was mutual.

The tall man smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid that would take too long to explain with any accuracy. Think of us as old friends for the time being. My name is Mahaad.” He rested a hand on her shoulder and she automatically took his elbow to complete the gesture of greeting.

“My name is Isis,” she responded, though they seemed to know that already.

Mahaad’s smile broadened. “That’s quite a coincidence, being named the same thing twice in a row,” he laughed. Isis had no idea what he meant by that but felt compelled to laugh along with him.

Next the man she felt she had seen a thousand times on various scrolls and murals stepped forward. “My name is Karim,” he said as they repeated the greeting gesture. “I know you don’t recognize us but it’s wonderful to see you.”

The bald man was the next to greet her. He introduced himself as Shada. If it weren’t for the innate sense of comfort she felt, Isis would have been intimidated by him. He was almost as tall as Mahaad and the markings across his brow made his expression look permanently severe. This made it even more surprising when he burst into laughter during the greeting gesture. “Sorry!” he exclaimed. “You look so much like our Isis except now you’re smaller than Mana. It’s so strange!”

Before Isis could ask Shada what he meant, Mana bounded over and hugged her again, but this time a little more gently. “Have you seen us in any of your visions?” she asked excitedly.

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh,” Mana said, her voice edged with disappointment. “I thought you’d want to know all about us.”

Though she still had no idea what any of this meant, Isis scrambled to come up with a way to spare her new, or possibly old, friend’s feelings. “I’ve only had it for one week and barely know how to use it,” she admitted. “Usually I only get visions when I’m in danger.”

This seemed to satisfy Mana. “Well I guess you know us now,” she chirped, then leaned in until her face was level with the Torc and yelled “THANKS ISIS! THE NEW YOU SEEMS NICE!” at the top of her voice.

Once again Karim gently pulled Mana away from Isis. “You know that’s not at all how it works,” he chided. “Isis is not inside the Torc,” and then shuddered and mumbled “thank the gods” under his breath.

“Keep practicing with it,” encouraged Shada. “There is so much more you can do with the Torc than simply receive visions of danger. As the Torc’s chosen bearer you can-”

Isis lost her balance as a tremor shook the world around her. For a brief moment she was no longer in the desert but on a rickety bus, her head bouncing painfully against the streaky window as they drove over a particularly pothole ridden road. Then she was back in the Pharaoh’s court.

“Looks like you’re being pulled back to the mortal realm,” came a voice right by her ear. “We don’t have much time left.” Something about “mortal realm” resonated strangely with Isis, but she was far too focused on the fact that Mahaad’s arm was wrapped protectively around her waist to take much interest in what it implied.

Over the past week it seemed as if all she’d done was fall down. Even in a dream she couldn’t manage to stand on her own two feet. It was even more humiliating now than ever. She already hated that she had no way to pay the Rahal’s back for taking her in, and being so easily overpowered by her little brother was even worse, but the idea of her new-old friends having to take care of her was practically unbearable. While she loved and trusted these people, Isis also felt an intense need for them to see her as capable. Especially Mahaad for some reason.

The desire to be seen as strong was familiar. Back in the Tomb, displays of weakness would always end in one of three ways. The least painful possibility was that she would be punished. Even a lapse as small as forgetting a line of sacred text or dozing off during meditation was grounds for swift retribution.

The second way was far worse. One of her brothers, most often Rishid, would end up suffering on her behalf. If the cause of an error was not immediately obvious, her father had the tendency to assign blame to the easiest target. This had become worse and worse as he aged and withdrew farther from his family.

Finally, without a nurturing adult presence it always fell upon her brothers to take care of her when she was upset. Isis remembered spending long hours crying onto Rishid’s shoulder when she was young, forcing him to be more of a parent or nurse than a brother. As she grew up and started tending to Malik in much the same way, she began to recognize how unfair it was to deprive Rishid of his childhood.

Thanks to their upbringing all three of the Ishtar siblings had become adept at hiding what they perceived to be weakness and failure. Rishid had once spilled a drop of ink onto a 400-page text and spent the next month secretly copying the entire volume into a fresh journal. And though he thrived on attention, even Malik had adopted similar tendencies. Isis had seen him fall flat on his face and swallow a mouthful of blood and a baby tooth rather than admit he was hurt.

But Isis particularly prided herself on her resilience. Even beyond her upbringing she was naturally independent. When faced with a problem she automatically tried to solve it by herself. She always tried to puzzle her way through the more confusing texts on her own before asking for help. She had no problems playing alone and in fact sometimes found herself craving time away from her brothers. She hated feeling helpless. As time wore on, her ability to seem composed at all times changed from a mere survival trait to a vital part of her identity.  Malik was the dreamer, Rishid was the nurturer, and she was the capable one. Recently even the servants had begun to defer to her more as a leader rather than the child that she truly was.

Isis’ sudden lack of control was weighing heavily on her. Life in the Tomb was often difficult but at least she had felt a deep sense of self-possession. Now she was wandering in an unfamiliar land with minimal possessions, an overwhelmingly powerful artifact she didn’t understand, and only the barest skeleton of a plan. She was at the mercy of a world she was out of step with by 3,000 years.  Not only had the past few days been emotionally traumatic, but her ego had taken a severe beating.

What made thing even more frustrating was the sudden realization that she didn’t want Mahaad to let go of her. Despite the desert heat, the warmth of his arm through her shirt was incredibly comforting. The desire to be held and reassured conflicted harshly with her desire for independence. It was confusing to say the least.

Isis stepped quickly out of Mahaad’s grasp. “I’m fine, thanks for catching me,” she mumbled, trying not to blush. The sound of Mana sniggering only made it worse.

“You’re our Isis alright,” Shada said with a smile. “Three thousand years later and still the same. It’s a relief to see that some things never change.”

The strangeness of Shada’s statement was enough to get Isis’ attention through the haze of embarrassment. “What do you mean by ‘three thous-” she began, but was cut off by another tremor. Again she was on the bus, then just as quickly in the desert once more. This time Karim had put a hand on her back. He let go as soon as it was obvious she wasn’t about to fall over.

“Just in case,” he said apologetically.

Isis sighed. “What’s going on?” she asked. She could feel herself slipping away from them but didn’t want to go. There was so much she wanted to ask, but her curiosity was nothing compared to her desire to bask in the comfort of their presence.

“You’re starting to fade,” Mahaad said. “I wish we could answer all of your questions but there isn’t time.” He rested a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes. “I don’t know what you’re about to face. We only get brief glimpses into the mortal realm and we are never quite certain of what we see when there. But you must never forget that you are not alone.”

“If anyone can do this, it’s you,” Karim said. “I’ve never met anyone so in command of their destiny.”

Shada put his hand on her other shoulder. “And of course we’ll be thinking of you and eagerly awaiting your return.” He paused, then hastily amended “but not too eagerly, obviously. Live a good, long life.”

“I don’t know,” Mana laughed. “Wouldn’t it be fun if she came back soon and was short for good?” She elbowed Isis playfully in the ribs. “We’d be like twins!”

“Again, Mana, it does not work that way,” Mahaad said, though there was laughter in his eyes. “She’ll come back exactly as she was no matter when she… rejoins us.”

With that, Mahaad pulled Isis into a friendly embrace. Isis reciprocated the gesture happily. “You are not alone,” he repeated. “Seek help as you need it and trust your companions as they prove themselves. I know you. Do not condemn yourself to do it all alone.” Isis closed her eyes and smiled as she leaned against him, basking in the comfort of her new… old… friends.

When Isis opened her eyes she was no longer resting on Mahaad’s shoulder but against the back of the bus seat. The memory of her dream faded instantly, but the sense of peace stayed with her for the rest of her journey to Cairo.