#i meant to go to bed early tonight but then i read the latest chapter of tragediegh's fic and it. was. just. everything

[mellowthorn]

a quick friday night fitzloved sketch

[teaberrii]

Chapter 20: Someone to Love

After ending a five-year relationship, you pour all your energy into work. Your latest assignment? Staying at a popular bed-and-breakfast to gather information. It should be a piece of cake... If only the owner isn't the man you scolded on the street.

Jing Yuan/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

Support my writing

You almost miss hearing the thunder rumble in the distance as Jing Yuan’s phone starts blowing up with messages and calls. Is this what Caelus’s uncle meant by ending things once and for all? How did he know about what happened to Jing Yuan’s friend? Wait. What happened to the guy? You nervously tap on the article and brace yourself as you read.

Jing Yuan’s old company—desperate to stay afloat amidst poor sales and a terrible economy—had their stocks crash. Jing Yuan’s friend, who had invested a pretty penny in hopes of a high return had lost everything. The company, knowing about his financial situation, had disregarded him, and his situation took a tragic turn. The article continues by saying that this man’s tragic downfall starts with Jing Yuan, the “rich CEO with millions that recommended and brought his friend into a corrupted company with no morale for its employees.”

What the article doesn’t say is what Jing Yuan told you just moments earlier:

“...I told him the consequences.”

Jing Yuan's eyes are glued to his phone, and for once, you know what's on his mind.

His business, partnerships, reputation… It's going to take a massive hit if he doesn't explain. Now you understand what Caelus's uncle and Jing Yuan meant. Are you going to stand by a man who's supposedly a "criminal" for ruining an innocent man's life? Are you willing to put your reputation on the line?

“...Hey.” You put your hand on his arm. “You don’t have anything to hide,” you reassure. “Using these dirty tactics means nothing if they aren’t true.”

“It’s true I referred to him... But, before then, I told him what I knew about was happening.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “Yet, he kept insisting that everything will be fine. At the time, I thought: Fine. I warned you. And it’s not guaranteed he’d get in through my referral alone. So, I did it.” Jing Yuan is looking away from you now. “It was not a smart decision, but I never thought it would lead to something as bad as it did.”

You tilt his head back. “...It’s not your fault.” Jing Yuan’s hand finds yours, and he holds it tightly. “He made that decision. All of it.” You pull him into a hug, and Jing Yuan’s arms go around you. “We’ll get through this. We won’t let him win.”

Jing Yuan wishes he could continue holding you like this. He can feel your heartbeat just like you can feel his, beating in sync.

“If you’re going to miss each other that much…” You and Jing Yuan break apart. Yanqing stands to the side, looking up at the two of you. “Why can’t Mom just sleep over?”

Jing Yuan crouches and picks Yanqing up. “...Dad has to take care of something tonight.”

Yanqing pouts, and you put a hand on Yanqing’s head. “Can you take care of Dad for me tonight?”

“I look after him every night!”

You and Jing Yuan smile, and then he lightly bounces Yanqing up. “Let’s give Mom a goodnight kiss.” Yanqing kisses your cheek, and then Jing Yuan says, “Now, close your eyes for a few seconds."

Yanqing does as he’s told, but he peeks out. When Jing Yuan leans closer to you, Yanqing completely covers his eyes. Jing Yuan’s kiss is brief, but long enough that you crave the taste of him. Then, you hear him whisper in your ear:

“Goodnight, my love.”

But, that night, like Jing Yuan, it’s far from a good night as you don’t get a wink of sleep.

It’s early the next morning when you’re on the phone with Kafka. Your phone is on speaker as you’re making coffee.

“The timing is too strategic and deliberate,” Kafka says.

“He knows about the investigation I’ve been doing,” you say. “It seems like he wants to shift the public’s focus onto other things even though nothing about him has come out… yet.”

“Well, innocent until proven guilty. If what Jing Yuan told you is true, I also don’t think he did anything wrong. The only problem is proving it.” She sighs. “Wait. What am I talking about? I’m supposed to be talking to you about work, for goodness sake.”

“You are… sort of.”

“Anyway, it’s crazy, but the company believes this will work to our advantage. With Jing Yuan in hot water, we can start making moves.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, well, I wonder how long that will last. It’s not like Star Rails has the best reputation here to begin with. Just because someone else is in trouble doesn’t mean we'll get a permanent boost. But…”

“...It’s making our ‘big, bad director’ more suspicious. I’m having another meeting with them today. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Great. Because I’ll be having a meeting of my own.”

It’s not long after you end the call with Kafka that you give the ex-fiancée of Caelus’s father a call.

“...I saw the article,” she says. “It’s all over social media.”

“I want to ask about the recording.”

“...The recording? The one between my brother and him?”

“My theory is that he needed proof. Imagine someone walking up to you and telling you that your wife cheated and had secret children. Who wouldn’t ask for proof?”

“Well… He could’ve asked his niece and nephew to get a DNA test or something… It’s pretty easy to do that nowadays.”

“Sadly, that kind of information is pretty private if they did. I highly doubt I can get my hands on it. I just want to know if you know about the details of that recording. You said it was a private conversation between your brother and him, but were Caelus and Stelle ever brought up? Or, maybe your relationship with their father? Anything that points to the fact that they were children of an affair.”

“...I’d have to ask my brother.”

“This man’s done enough,” you say. “You say it takes one person to ruin a bunch of people’s lives. Well, it can also take one person to save a bunch of people’s lives.”

You hope those words are enough to convince her.

When noon rolled around, you and Jing Yuan got in touch once. It's no surprise he's busy dealing with the aftermath of this fiasco while you're scrambling to get something tangible to nab Caelus's uncle once and for all. What puts you at ease is that Blade and Luocha are with him, but what surprises you is that even Jing Yuan's ex has willingly stepped up to give a statement. The man who died had been a friend of hers, too, and while the tragedy happened during their divorce, Jing Yuan had told her about his warnings to him when they were still together.

March and the others have also gotten in touch, and you could easily picture her annoyed face and clenched fists when she said:

“He’s such a little worm! That fuc—”

“As much as Jing Yuan’s trying to protect himself, he’s also keeping your name out of this as much as possible,” Dan Feng said, and you assumed he took the phone from March. “It’s no secret what that wormy old man is going to do next, so be careful, too.”

“Everyone in Xianzhou is surprised,” Welt said. “No surprise there, but we’re trying to mitigate the situation.”

March sighed. “...Yeah. We can’t sit around and do nothing. It’s frustrating.”

“But, don’t worry, Mom. We also got the almighty JIngliu on our side." You could see the smile on Dan Feng's face. "We got this.”

You walk into a café, and you see the “wormy old man” sitting at the back with a hot drink that you wish you could pour all over him. When you sit across from him, he finally looks at you.

“Not going to get a drink?”

“I’d rather not waste my time.”

“Fine. Let’s get down to business, shall we? Have you decided to stop your little investigation?”

“And if I don’t, will you release an article saying that I’m just as much of a criminal as Jing Yuan?”

“It doesn’t look good for you, considering he’s a competitor, isn’t he? Also, as a woman climbing the corporate ladder, it’s going to make it difficult for you even if you leave Star Rails.”

You almost scoff. “Is that what you also told Jing Yuan’s ex to keep her quiet? After Caelus died, you used this tactic that if word got out she was involved, it would harm her reputation and career.”

“You’re making some bold accusations without any evidence.”

“You used her as a pawn to get what you and the director wanted.”

Caelus’s uncle has a tight smile. “And what would we want?”

“...Do you believe me now?”

The director’s face had gone pale. His arms were on the table, his hands entwined, and he pressed his forehead against them as the words of the recording began to sink in and his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. He thought he’d knew everything, but this goddamn woman had hid even more secrets from him. She was an ugly blemish on his life that would never disappear, and he wanted to fucking scream.

“Did you know she had children?”

The director slammed one of his hands on the table. “It’s all in the past. I have nothing to do with her anymore.”

“She took your money, didn’t she?”

The director glared at him. “What do you want?”

Caelus’s uncle crossed one leg over the other. “The same as you. Revenge. My brother is someone who only cares about himself. He refuses to give me anything, and he has everyone in Xianzhou fooled that it’s sickening. He came between you and your wife… and she supported him using your money. The hotel that’s thriving in Xianzhou… a large part of that success is because of your hard-earned money, and it’s in the hands of the child my brother had with your wife. If I were you, I’d like to see it go up in flames.”

He knew he had the director right where he wanted him. His face was red as a tomato, fists clenched, and a dangerous look in his eyes that looked as if something snapped.

“I’m sure you know that we’re trying to acquire that hotel right now,” Caelus’s uncle continued. “The project manager in charge of that… I know her very well. A capable woman who’s desperate to climb the corporate ladder. She’s willing to do anything to make sure this project goes through. Her greediness and desperation will be beneficial to us.”

The director’s anger seemed to have subsided slightly when he said, “...The one who presented at the meeting today?”

“That’s right. A pretty one, isn’t she? With the right words, I doubt we’ll have to do much. A woman’s desperation can be a scary but entertaining thing to watch.”

Caelus’s uncle remembers the conversation vividly. It feels like it’s just yesterday. He’s looking straight at you, impressed but also terrified at how much you know. But everything is just speculation. As long as the right people keep quiet…

“...Fine. I’ll entertain you.” He glares at you. “Assuming what you said is all true, there’s no direct evidence that leads to me purposely pressuring my nephew to take his life. There was a full police investigation, and while there was no suicide note, there was also no foul play.”

“You think you have everyone wrapped around your finger, but”—you lean closer—”people are selfish. If they don’t see any benefit to keep quiet, they won’t.”

Just then, your phone buzzes. It’s a message from the woman, and after reading it, you smile.

Your smile doesn’t go unnoticed by Caelus’s uncle. What did you read? Who messaged you?

“You gave us an opportunity,” you say, sliding your phone back into your pocket. “You trying to smear Jing Yuan also put your name in the papers. With him coming out clean, you won’t get off so easily. People can be ruthless when digging up other people's pasts, especially if they're dirty. The more lies you say, the bigger the hole. You won’t get off so easily no matter how much you try to play it off.”

“This doesn’t mean you and Jing Yuan will come out unscarred.”

“...We'll see who gets the last laugh.”

You’ve just exited the café when you take your phone out and reread the earlier message from the woman.

My brother doesn’t have the recording, but… he sent me these screenshots.

Lo’ and behold, it’s written in black and white: a conversation about the recording, but most importantly… one whole paragraph about how Caelus's uncle hates his brother and his desire to ruin his family and “take back what’s his” by getting rid of the children who stand in his way. The way it was written makes you think he must’ve been drunk at the time.

Just moments later, Kafka calls you.

“Like I thought, he denied everything,” Kafka says. “He said he only knew him from the project, but they weren’t involved in anything… personal.”

"Of course, I knew him," the director said. "He was a stakeholder in that project."

“He’s also the brother of the man who had an affair with your wife.”

He quickly stood. “What is this really about, Kafka?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen the article about Jing Yuan. I just found it interesting that the company mentioned in the article… was the same one we were looking to work with many years ago. I did a little digging myself and saw that Jing Yuan left before anything between the companies even began.”

“And?”

“The man that took his life… He was part of the management team that was on close terms with us, wasn’t he?”

“Oh, Kafka… Don’t tell me that you think we came up with this article. That’s ridiculous.”

“This timing is all very coincidental. Perhaps it’s to cover—”

“Your imagination is as wild as some of the people who work here.” Kafka narrowed her eyes. “The employee that you sent to Xianzhou hasn’t been delivering any results. Perhaps she should be thanking whoever wrote this article that the reputation of our competitor is going to go to shit.”

Kafka shook her head in disappointment. “You know what would’ve been the smartest move?” She looked at him straight in the eyes. “You should’ve left Xianzhou alone.”

You almost scoff. “Sounds like he can’t contain his guilt anymore. But… It makes sense. I don’t see how Caelus’s uncle would’ve known about what happened to Jing Yuan’s friend if someone hadn’t tipped him off.” Then, you roll your eyes. “Guess Star Rails was smart to not put their name in the paper.”

“Well, it’ll turn ugly, that’s for sure. Our director fed him this information. And, thinking they had the upper hand, they quickly published it. Now, if Jing Yuan is found to be clean, people will start questioning the person who started this entire thing.”

“Knowing the kind of person he is, I wouldn’t be surprised if Caelus’s uncle drags in our big, bad director and Star Rails so he doesn’t take all the blame. But, I’m glad this case will finally see the light of day.”

“In due time. It’s likely Star Rails paid this journalist to come up with this article if that journalist didn’t bother checking facts.”

“Then, I guess it’s good I have connections of my own.”

◆◆◆

“People are shocked, but not everyone is blindly believing it. So, that’s a good sign.”

It’s late afternoon, and Dan Heng and Jingliu are at a nearby café.

“I talked to Jing Yuan earlier today,” Jingliu says. “It’s the constant explaining to his investors and partnerships that’s driving him a little mad. But, at least the media already reached out to him. Our cute little investigator is also involved. ”

“Cute little investigator?”

Jingliu says your name. “She’s ready to fire bullets.”

Dan Heng puts his hands around his coffee. “...Looks like you are, too.”

“Me? Oh, well, if you call finding a new path firing bullets…” She chuckles. “I suppose.”

“It’ll do well. A physical rehab center for seniors isn’t something Xianzhou has yet. Fits with the market too since the population is getting older.”

“I’m glad people are already looking forward to it. A lot of my younger staff are already thinking about getting certifications. Some of them haven't decided what they want to do as a career yet, and this is something they're considering."

Dan Heng’s hand finds hers. “What about your dad?”

“What do you think?” Jingliu laughs. “He’s glad he doesn’t have to travel to the city if something does happen. In other words, he's happy we found a way out without having anything to do with you-know-who.” She slightly leans forward. “Why do you look down? I thought you also have things figured out.”

Does he? Dan Heng has been trying hard not to let it show, but it seems like he can’t suppress all of his emotions. He looks off to the side, wanting to pull his hand back when she holds it tightly. Is it childish to tell her what he truly feels? Probably. But it’s better than keeping her in the dark. So, he looks at her and says:

“...I’ll miss you. A lot.” Jingliu gives him a small, reassuring smile. “But knowing that both of us have our own thing going on, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“I don’t know about other people, but”—Jingliu holds his hand—”I prefer this than being stuck with each other all the time.”

“I thought you might say that.”

Jingliu leans back and glances out the window. “You asked when was the last time I’ve been on a date. Well, I’ve been on a couple… but obviously they never worked out.” She looks back. “Some people told me I was too assertive and that men liked a woman who’s a little dependent on them.”

“...I’m sure there are people who fit that mould, but”—he smiles—”we do our own thing, regardless of what other people say.”

“I think that’s one of the things I like about you, Dan Heng.” The unexpected compliment makes his face warm. “Out of the years I’ve been training you, you don’t sway easily by what other people say. Whether it’s about your performance or decisions… You think about whether what people say has merit. That’s not something easily accomplished by someone your age.”

“I’m not young anymore.”

“Well, some people never get there.”

“...There’s one person whose opinion I want to know about.”

Jingliu laughs. “My dad?” Judging from the look on his face, she was right. “Oh, he’ll love you. Don’t worry.”

But his legs still feel like jelly every time he thinks about formally meeting him, anyway.

◆◆◆

Dan Feng is lying half-naked on a table with acupuncture needles sticking out of his shoulders when March walks in. He glances at her and sees she already got his bag of medicine. She slides the door shut, and he can no longer hear the outside conversations. It’s just him and her.

“Luocha says Jing Yuan will be fine,” March says. “Looks like Welt’s Ms. Femme Fatale got some dirt on Caelus’s uncle that will really shut his mouth once and for all. Hallelujah!"

“You talking about Mom?”

“Stop calling her that,” March deadpans. “It’s weird.”

Dan Feng tilts his head to the right as if he’s a puppy. “Why? You call JIngliu Mom. With how things are going, you might as well start calling Dan Heng Dad."

March makes a disgusted face. “That’s different.”

“Well, we have time to spare. Enlighten me, dear March.”

“You’re not that much older than her.”

Dan Feng gives her a deadpan look. March ignores this and pulls out her phone. When she slips it back into her pocket again, Dan Feng asks, “You waiting for someone?”

She sits on a nearby chair. “...I’ve been back in touch with some people I knew in the entertainment industry.”

“Are you excited?” March looks at him. “You’re going to be performing on music shows, aren’t you?”

“Actually…” She takes a small breath. “The contract I’m going to be signing is for acting.”

“Acting? You’re going to be an actress?”

“I was talking to Welt about it the other day… How cool it would be if his novel got a film adaptation. I joked that I could play our Ms. Femme Fatale, and then he literally said ‘Well, why not?’ Just got me thinking… considering it looks like everyone is stepping into new things. I don’t want to fall behind.” When Dan Feng doesn’t say anything, March starts fidgeting. “If you’re going to laugh, then just do it. Stop making me anxious.”

“Why would I laugh?” Dan Feng rolls his eyes. “It’s one of the things I like about you.”

“Yeah, well, you—” March stops and stares at him with wide eyes. “What did you say?”

Dan Feng would've shrugged if he could. "It's just something I noticed. You have a natural talent for singing but you wanted to try dancing. When you got good at dancing, you wanted to try producing and writing your own songs. I don't know. I guess it's cool that you don't settle just because you're good at one thing."

March’s jaw drops.

“You look like a fish out of water,” Dan Feng continues.

“I, um, well… That’s…”

“Your face is turning red.”

She huffs.

“Now, you look like a blowfish.”

She walks over and gently pokes one of the needles. “Don’t make me stab you.”

“Ooh, I’m terrified.”

March moves in front of him, and Dan Feng watches as she gets at eye level with him. What is she doing? If only he can move.

“You know what I hate about you?”

Dan Feng holds her stare. “Everything?”

She sighs and moves closer. “...Yeah. Everything.”

A small smirk. “Well, you won’t hate me if you come just a little closer.”

“Sounds sus, but—”

It takes March a moment to realize that Dan Feng is kissing her… while lying half-naked on the acupuncture bed.

◆◆◆

When you finally see Jing Yuan, it’s late afternoon, Things have finally begun to settle down as he’d finished talking to reporters and took care of things internally to come out with a statement. But, most importantly, he still had the texts between him and his friend that proved his innocence. Now, all that’s left is to wait.

You, Blade, and Jing Yuan are having tea at Jing Yuan’s place when you say:

“I feel like I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.”

“Bet you didn’t think you’d be going through all of this when you first got here,” Blade says.

“It’s something I’ll never forget, that’s for sure. But… not everything’s finished yet.” You put your tea on the table. “I’m officially working with the media on an article exposing Star Rails.”

“Wait,” Jing Yuan says. “...But, you’re still working there.”

“Yeah… Won’t this get you into some pretty big trouble?” Blade asks.

“If you mean launching a new career, then… yeah. I suppose so.”

“A new career? You mean…”

You’re looking at Jing Yuan when you say, “If things go well… I might be offered a contract as a freelance journalist covering local news here." Jing Yuan feels his heart soar. "Of course, this is just the start… The more experience I get, I can start a newsroom here.”

Your words wash his fatigue away as he pulls you into a hug. “The best news I've heard all day. You’ll do so well, love.”

“Hm… Interesting. Perhaps we’ll even work together.”

“Work together?” you ask Blade as Jing Yuan lets you go.

“The university I work at is interested in building a small agricultural campus here. It's partly why I'm here."

“Are you overseeing this project?”

“That’s right. I’ll also be relocating here to teach.”

Your jaw almost drops. “Wow. I bet Yanqing will be happy to have both of his dads here.”

“...I asked Yanqing not to call Blade that anymore,” Jing Yuan says.

Before you can ask, Blade notices the time and says, “All good things have to come to an end, I guess.” He stands. “But, at least I still get to spend time with my favourite kid.” You and Jing Yuan walk Blade to the door. “I’ll drop him off later.”

Jing Yuan nods, and you and Blade say a quick goodbye.

Once Blade leaves, you jokingly ask, “Is someone being too protective of Yanqing now?”

Jing Yuan walks up, puts his hands around your waist, and leans closer. “I don’t want people to think you also belong to Blade.” The thought has never crossed your mind, but it makes sense… as Yanqing calls you Mom. Jing Yuan’s forehead is against yours when he says, “...You belong to me.”

Your mind goes into a daze when his lips meet yours. Soon, his hot mouth once again takes you on a wild, wild ride, unleashing a flame within that quickly spreads throughout your body. Your fingers weave through his hair; his grip around your waist tightens, and he pulls you even closer until your body is flush against his. Your teasing touches dance along his broad shoulders and muscular arms, fanning the fiery flames of desire that he can no longer hold back.

The world becomes a blur as Jing Yuan lifts you effortlessly. With his hands on your hips, your legs around him, you gasp as his sinful, delicious mouth travels from your lips to your neck and then to your collarbone, leaving a burning trail in its wake that makes you long for more. A soft moan. A quiet gasp.

Then, you feel his breath against your ear.

“Let me hear more, love…”

You breathlessly say his name when he finds that sensitive spot on your neck.

“...I’ve waited too long.”

Soon, his tongue teases and dances with yours, and he’s kissing you as if it’s the last. You pull the red ribbon, releasing his hair from its confinement. Then, with your hands cupping his face, you say:

“...Love me, Jing Yuan.”

Chapter 21

End notes:

Muahahahaha the smut has finally arrived. I really want to try upping my game when writing smut lol so let's see how this goes.

The next chapter is the last! I'm surprised I actually kept this within a reasonable length lol. My initial want of keeping this within 20 chapters wasn't too far off. *pats self on back*

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @immahuman @queencybow @nqctre @grimreapersscythe @winterpein @asakenajustexistshere @sunsethw4

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request the Obey Me guys as well as the Now Dateables?

Perhaps M/C crawling into bed with them wanting to be held and to be touched.

Perhaps a little nsfw added in 🤤😉

note: this is the only imagine/scenario I will do for all 11 boys. cuz I’m a thirsty bitch. the rest of the time we will stick to the rules of HCs only.

Additionally, the plot has been changed slightly to ‘coming to their room at night’. Sorry. If you want NSFW stuff for a specific boy, based on the provided content, I’ll do it but 11 boys is too much even for my thirsty trappy ass.

Obey Me Boys + MC Crawling into Bed with Them

Lucifer

Lucifer sighed over his paper work. Would his turmoil never cease? 

Sometimes he felt like he had fallen into a lower level of the Devildom. Like the 13th circle of hell where the preferred torture method for lost souls was endless paperwork. A modern day Sisyphus, only instead of a boulder it was forms.

He heard the door to his room quietly click open & then close. He doesn’t look up from his paper work as he knew who it was. There was only one person, ok maybe two, who would come into his room this late at night without knocking. “What is it [Y/N]?”

“I was um...wait, you wear reading glasses?”

Lucifer frowned and looked up from his paper work now. “Magical reading glasses. For reading magical text.” They were required to read some of the magical scripts he was combing over. “What is it [Y/N]?”

The human squirmed a little when he asked again. Seeming to think over the answer, or more precisely how to explain it. “I couldn’t sleep.” They finally confess. “I was wondering if I could stay in here with you, but....you’re busy.”

Lucifer arched a brow slightly, but then moved some of the papers he had completed to make space for them. “Come on. I won’t be much longer.”

[Y/N] smiled at him and scampered over. Crawling in under the silk sheets, and as close as possible to him with him on top of them as they could. “Thank you Lucifer.”

“Of course, my dearest one.” He replied with a soft smile, leaning down to kiss the top of their head before returning to his work. Renewed in his commitment to get this done so he could spend the night with [Y/N].

Mammon

It was late. It was almost 3:00 in the morning by the time he got home, and it had been a shitty night.

Mammon had been at the casino. Gambling, drinking, dancing, the usual. His luck turned sour around 11:00 and, stupid Mammon, had spent the remaining four hours trying to turn it around. That of course didn’t work so now he was even more broke, defeated, and feeling like crap for his failure; regretting Lucifer finding out and making him feel worse. Fuck it had been the worst night.

He rounded the corner to his room and looked up in surprise to see [Y/N] at his door. “What are you doing here?” His voice seemed to surprise them too as they jumped a little before turning to him.

“Oh I was…coming to see if you wanted to hang out?”

“Hang out?” Mammon repeated with an arched brow. “Ya know it’s like 3:00 in the morning, right?”

“O-Oh…is it? I guess I miss read the time.” [Y/N] began to fidget, then muttered some apology about going back to their room.

The demon reached out and caught their hand before they could get far. “Hey, what’s wrong? Nobody comes out here in the middle of the night without a reason.” Or they were out super late like him.

[Y/N] looked down, then decided to tell the truth. “I couldn’t sleep. So I wanted to see you.”

Mammon blinked behind his shades. He hadn’t been expecting that. Now it was his turn to fidget as he realized out of all the people in the world, [Y/N] had chosen to come see him.

“Yeah well…of course ya’d come to the Great Mammon for help. I uh…guess you can stay in here with me tonight.”

He showered to get the smoke & stink of shame off before crawling into bed with [Y/N]. His little human already drifting off just being in his covers. Mammon wrapped his arms around them and held them close. Maybe it wasn’t the worst night after all.

Levi

Of course he was awake when [Y/N] came to his room. The latest install of Kenji Momotaro: Demon Slayer Warrior Prince had just been released that day, and Levi he been playing it since he had gotten his hands on it. He wouldn’t be sleeping for a while.

When he heard the knock on his door, initially missing it over the sound of his game and tunnel vision, Levi paused for the first time in hours to go see who it was. “[Y/N]-chan?”

“Can…I stay in here with you?” They asked. Catching Levi by surprise. “I can’t sleep in my room.”

The blunette blushed violently, and covered his face. “Y-Y-You….You want to sleep in here with me??”

“Is…that ok?” They asked cautiously. Seeming let down by his reaction.

“No. I mean! Yes! W-What I mean is, I’m not going to bed right now. I’m grinding through my new game so….you might not be happy in here.” Plus, his bed was a bathtub. Which was only comfortable to him.

“Oh. Well…I don’t want to mess up your game. If that’s more important to you.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Levi outburst. Then quickly covered his mouth in embarrassment. “I…I just don’t think you’ll get a lot of sleep in here. I only like my room after all.”

“I like your room.” If Levi turned any redder, he was going to get a nose bleed. “It’s dark, which is nice. Plus the aquariums are really soothing. And…you’re there. I just wanted to be around you since I couldn’t sleep, but I guess that’s silly.”

The demon had to cover his mouth again. This time over threat of nose bleed. He was so red from embarrassment, but also incredibly moved by [Y/N]’s words, that he quickly responded, “you can stay with me.”

He moved aside and let [Y/N] in. Leading them over to his game area where he laid out some plushies as a bed, and pulled out a blanket to cover them. “I-I-I…I’m gonna keep playing since I’m not tired. But I’ll put my headphones on so I don’t disturb you. Y-Y-You can lay down here and i-i-if you fall asleep I won’t mind.”

“Thanks Levi.” He had to gulp at the cute sleepy way they said his name, before they tucked in and he went back to his game.

He couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the game, with [Y/N] so close. Choosing to use his leg as a pillow. Eventually he gave up and leaned back against the edge of his tub, not daring to disturb them and actually getting a good night sleep as well.

Asmo

There were few things that Asmo considered sacred. Love. Vitality. The Louis Vuitton spring collection.

But the one thing he considered sacred most of all, was his beauty sleep regiment.

The Avatar of Lust had a strict sleep schedule to give his body the best rejuvenation possible, and amplify his beauty. Everyone knew about it, and choose to leave Asmo alone; per his wishes.

Which was why it was so frustrating when his rest was disturbed by a knock at the door.

Asmo grumbled under his sleep mask at the light rapping that wouldn’t go away. Irritated by the noise, and now the worry lines whoever it was was putting into his forehead. He pushed his mask up to his hair line and got up out of bed towards the door. “What?!” He said in a not cute, very moody outburst when he opened it. Seeing [Y/N] standing there, startled by his ugly display. “Oh, [Y/N]-kun. It’s you.”

“Y-Yeah. Yeah it’s me. Sorry to wake you, I’ll just…go.”

“Wait [Y/N]! I’m sorry. If I had known it was you paying me a late night visit, I would have been much nicer and answered the door sooner.”

“Well I….couldn’t sleep so…-“Ahhhh~! You couldn’t sleep so you decided to come to me?? How naughty!”

[Y/N] frowned and turned to leave, but Asmo apologized quickly for being cheeky. “Did you want to stay with me tonight? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” He could tell he was right, but the human was second guessing themselves on coming here. “I promise I’ll behave. Really.”

[Y/N] seemed to trust them, and came into the room & into bed with Asmo. He was practically giddy with them being so close, but was true to his word and supplied no funny stuff for the evening. Just rest and cuddles.

In the morning, he couldn’t wait to tell his brothers how he slept with [Y/N] last night. Causing quite the intentional misunderstanding and ruckus over breakfast that day.

Satan

Satan was getting ready for bed. Pjs on, teeth brushed, uniform set out for tomorrow, and on his bed reading one last chapter of his latest book, when he heard the knock at the door.

At first he thought it was a branch hitting the glass of his window. But when he heard it again, he knew it was at his door, and had a very The Raven moment before he went to answer it.

“[Y/N]? What are you doing here? It’s so late.”

“I know, I know,” the replied, scratching the back of their head. “I just…I couldn’t sleep. I tried but I just couldn’t get to sleep, and wanted to see you.” They look up at him with big doe eyes and ask, “can I stay with you tonight?”

Of course, he couldn’t say no. Not with a look like that. Or more importantly, he’d never say no to [Y/N]. Satan offered them a soft smile and nodded before letting them in.

“What were you reading?” They asked, as the climbed into bed first. Watching Satan put his book away for them.

“Oh, just a new fiction series I found. Simeon recommended it to me.” He said as he climbed into bed as well.

“What’s it about?”

He told them the premise of the story, and eventually read aloud the first few chapters to them as they curled up beside him. Falling asleep soon after.

Satan smiled again, and put the book back away, before leaning down to kiss their forehead and curl in beside them. Ready for bed now.

Beel

It was pretty late when he heard the knock on the door. And a miracle he heard it at all.

Belphie was the sleeper out of the two of them, but Beel wasn’t exactly a light sleeper either. Between his workouts, large meals, and having to get up early for his morning workouts, the red head was usually dead to the world when his head hit the pillow. But, still, when he heard the quite knock on the door he woke up. 

If he were a thinker like Satan or the others, he would have thought that it was maybe their bond that woke him. Instead he just trudged half asleep towards the door to open it. “[Y/N]?”

“S-Sorry....” They apologize and look towards the ground as Beel looked at them curiously. “I knew you were asleep, but I still woke you up. I’m sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” Beel asked. A bit more awake now that he knew it was them and they seemed distressed. [Y/N] shrugged. “Did you have a bad dream?” 

They pause for a while, but then shrug again. He might not be a thinker like the others, but he was smart enough to know what that meant. He reached out to take their hand and pulled them into his room. Leading them over to his bed and pulling them onto it.

“Don’t worry. You can stay here.” Beel said, holding [Y/N] to his chest in a horizonal hug. “I’ll keep you safe. You don’t have to worry while I’m here. Go back to sleep.”

His words seem to do the trick, and [Y/N] feel back asleep. Beel stayed awake a little while longer. Combing his fingers through their hair, before he too fell back asleep.

Belphie

He heard the conversation from the door, but didn’t bother getting up.

The only thing that could break through when he was asleep was Beel and [Y/N]’s voice. So hearing them both woke him up pretty quickly, although it seemed to be handled. 

He tried to go back to sleep after hearing you settle in, but it didn’t work. The usually lazy demon kept fidgeting in his sleep, trying to get comfortable, and even counting sheep to try and go back to dream land. Nothing worked. And he knew why.

Belphie got up out of bed, hugging his pillow to his chest, and walked over to the over bed across the room and kicked it. When Beel and [Y/N] looked up at him half asleep he demanded, “move over.” He couldn’t sleep know that [Y/N] was cuddling up with someone else and not him. Especially in the same room.

[Y/N] huffed in their sleep and laid back down, scooching closer to Beel to try and make space. Beel, on the other hand, smile sleepily up as his twin and properly moved over; back pressed against the wall with [Y/N] at his chest to give him as much space as possible.

Belphie smiled back at him, then dropped his pillow to climb in. Instantly falling asleep. Holding on to his twin and beloved [Y/N] for the rest of the night.

Simeon

Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. Those were the words that Simeon tried to live by

He was just about to slip under the covers happily, when he heard a small knock at the door. It was so faint & small, that he assumed it was Luke needing something. So he quickly went over to answer it without putting his robe on.

“Oh…[Y/N]….” The angel said, feeling his cheeks heat up and clinching for his imaginary robe to cover his pjs, when he realized it was you. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t mean in the Hall. You were stay in the other dorm for a while as an infestation of some icky, demon creepy crawly, that just loved to nibble on humans was dealt with in the House of Lamentation. Luke of course had been thrilled you were staying with them, insisting that the change be made permanent to keep you away from those rowdy demons. Simeon couldn’t really agree on the demon part, but he wouldn’t be disappointed if you stayed here more.

“I…couldn’t sleep,” you tell him. “New surroundings and all. I was…wondering if I could stay in your room?”

The angel seemed to bristle in surprise at your words. Taken aback, but also in the warm feeling that was spreading through his chest. God have mercy…..

“I don’t know if that would be appropriate.”

“Please?” [Y/N] beckoned. He had to gulp down the lump, and instantaneous urge to say yes, building in his throat. “I just don’t want to sleep alone. I keep thinking about those things in my room back at the dorm. And being around you is so comforting. Just for tonight? I’ll sleep on the couch and everything if that’s a problem.”

“I wouldn’t let you do that.” Simeon insisted. He would never let them sleep on the couch like some vagabond. “Well….alright. But just for tonight. And just because you’re feeling unsettled.” He doesn’t know who he was trying to convince more: them or himself.

He didn’t get much sleep that night. Tense, and trying to remain appropriate even is they slept next to him. But, in a way, it was the best night he had ever had.

Solomon

He always stayed up late. The late to early morning hours were the best time for magic. The witching hour. He was knee deep into his research & spell casting when he heard the knock at the door.

“I..saw the light on…” [Y/N] said when he opened the door. “Are you…going to bed soon?”

Solomon blinked for a moment, then looked down at his pocket watch. Oh, it was rather late. But….“No. I still have quite a bit of work to do.”

The other human sighed, then turned to leave from his door just as suddenly as they came. “Wait. What is it?” He asked, stopping them.

They turn, and seem to debate about answering before, “I couldn’t sleep and was thinking it might be nice to cuddle with you.” Solomon blinked again. In surprise this time. “Stupid, right?”

No, not stupid, he thought. It was just no on had ever asked to cuddle with him before. His body and cool demeanor might be misleading, but he was a very fierce sorcerer. Powerful, and awe inspiring. He had made cities tremble in his young days, and was powerful enough to independently bind one of the strongest demons in hell. Cuddles were not something that one usually thought of when it came to him.

He opened the door to let them in and said, “if you can’t sleep, I can make you a potion.” When that didn’t seem to go over well he corrected with, “or…I could lay down with you for a moment.”

The ‘moment’ turned into the whole evening, because the second his head hit the pillow, he instantly fell asleep. Lulled to dream land by his many late nights, and the warm embrace of [Y/N]. Perhaps there were better things than just getting research done.

Diavolo

He groaned in his sleep. Then rolled over on his side, immediately pulling [Y/N] in when he was in close proximity of them. It was a reflex at this point.

At first, he had tried to keep his distance from the human exchange student. No good would come from it, and it was inappropriate that the future King & patron of the program would be involved with one of the terrestrial candidates. But he couldn’t help it.

Their brightness. Their smile. Their hope for the program and just life won him over and now he couldn’t stand to be further apart from them than a second.

“It’s morning....”

Divaolo groaned and buried his head into the back of their neck. “Five more minutes...”

“We can’t. It’s morning.” [Y/N] insisted. Jutting their hips back against his front; which had the opposite effect of trying to get him out of bed. “If you don’t go, Barbatos will start looking for you. And if he teleports into my room it will be a whole thing.”

That certainly was a metaphoric splash of cold water.

The prince groaned again, and buried himself deeper for a second, before he compliantly agreed and got up. The little full bed in the student dorms joyful of his departure, as it squeaked happily as he tried to leave it.

“Can I come again tonight?” Diavolo asked, as he adjusted his ornate bed clothes. He never slept in them. Like most things in his life, they were all for show.

[Y/N] smiled at him from under their covers and said, “of course.”

His heart swelled at their smile and the promise of later. Surging forward he gave them an impassioned good morning kiss, and told them, “wait up for me.” Before he disappeared in a whirl of black smoke to his own bedroom.

It felt terribly cold now. But he only had to wait until tonight. That he could live for.

Barbatos

The work of a butler is never really done.

There were always things to do. More chores to complete. More tasks to do. Particularly in the life of the royal butler. But Barbatos never complained about his job. He was literally born for it, and took great pride in his work. No matter how small the task.

When he heard the small bell, harking a summons from on of the guest rooms, Barbatos stopped polishing the silver and immediately went upstairs to see what was needed. “You called, [Y/N]?” He asked upon arrival. Calm as ever, and ready to help. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you up here.” They apologized. “I just….couldn’t sleep.”

Barbatos chuckled a little with a soft smile. “No need to apologize, [Y/N]. You’re a guest here, and a friend of the young master.” As well as a dear person to him. “I’m happy to help with anything you need. Might I make you some soothing nightshade tea? That seems to do the trick for most people.”

“N-No. No I…I was wondering….if you’d just sit with me for a while.” The human looked down at the ornate bed spread. Picking at the embroidery in a nervous manner. “Til I fall back asleep?”

The demon smiled again, and came over to sit on the edge of the bed. Holding them in the most comfortable manner possible with him on top of the covers, and them under them. “That is a simple thing.” He told them softly. “Close your eyes. I shall stay with you until you are asleep, and make sure you are taken care of.”

“Thank you.” [Y/N] said lazily. Already closing their eyes and falling back asleep with him close.

The work of a butler was never really done. But this was a task he was happy to do.

[blazingparker]

What’s Up, Danger? (Chapter 3)

Here it is! the final chapter of What’s Up, Danger? As I’ve said before, I was totally blown away by the response to this fic. Thank you to all of you who commented, left kudos, reblogged, and everything else!!

read it on ao3!

---

“JARVIS, what time is it?” Tony called out as he fiddled with repairing one of the gauntlets on one of his older suits. It had gotten damaged during the battle of Sokovia, and he’d just built a new one rather than ever repairing it. Now, with his refusal to go after Spider-Man and the lack of other missions, he’d had plenty of time to catch up on lab projects and even fix up his old suit.

“It is currently 2:37 in the morning on Friday, January 25th, sir. Might I suggest you retire and get some rest?” Tony frowned, setting down his tools. Peter still hadn’t called him, and he never stayed out patrolling this late when he had a class the next day.

Peter. The last few weeks with Peter had been some of the best of Tony’s life, hands down. While they still hadn’t defined their relationship, they were more than friends and there were definitely too many feelings involved for them to just be fuck buddies.

For once, Tony didn’t dread the early hours of the morning when JARVIS would hound him to head to bed. He’d talk on the phone with Peter, listen to how his day went and maybe tell him about his latest project before they would hang up with whispered words of affection and head to bed. On particularly good nights, he’d meet Peter in his apartment with takeout (Tony wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking he could cook, come on) and they’d cuddle up on the couch with a movie. Sometimes, he’d need to stitch Peter up or help him out of his suit to tend to his injuries, which he was always more than happy to do. Things were perfect. They were perfect.

In fact, the only reason why Tony hadn’t asked Peter to be his boyfriend yet was because he knew the young man had enough on his plate without adding the media frenzy that came with dating a billionaire. Not to mention the Avengers would find out, and that would make it even harder for Peter to keep his identity a secret.

Tony wasn’t really known for being a patient man, but for Peter? For Peter, he’d wait.

Well, not tonight. Tonight, he was done waiting. It was close to three in the morning and Peter still hadn’t called, which was highly unusual.

“JARVIS, pull up the local news.” Tony turned and leaned back against the lab table and brought his mug of coffee to his lips. Maybe Peter had gotten held up with a bigger issue, like another burning building or a larger threat that required more time to take care of. If that was the case, the local news would definitely be covering it.

What they were actually covering made him drop his coffee mug, the ceramic dish shattering when it made impact with the floor.

A blonde newscaster was speaking, but Tony tuned her out in favor of reading the tagline and watching the footage.

Spider-Man Abducted by the Avengers. There was a shaky video, likely recorded by an unassuming passerby, of Peter standing on a roof with his chest heaving. Then, out of nowhere and seemingly for no reason, he tensed. A second later, a dart could be seen sticking out of his neck. Tony’s chest filled with dread as he watched Peter pluck it out and stare at it, swaying in place. When Peter collapsed, Tony actually made a move as if he could catch the young man, and felt fury bubble up when he saw what happened next.

Steve fucking Rogers caught Peter, quickly restraining him with a pair of vibranium cuffs before slinging him over his shoulder and carrying him off.

“--people of Queens are furious. There are talks of a march on Avengers tower. They have protected us from larger threats, yes. But Spider-Man was the one looking out for the people of Queens and New York at large every day. Where were the Avengers when Lacy Collins was almost assaulted last week, when Spider-Man rescued her? Where were the Avengers--”

Tony wasn’t listening anymore. The newscaster was right, of course, Peter was better than all of them. Peter deserved nothing but the Avengers’ respect and instead he’d gotten a dart to the neck and vibranium cuffs. He stormed out of the lab, grabbing his cell phone.

“JARVIS, dial Patriotic Fucker,” he all but growled as he got into the elevator. “And take me to the suit lab on level forty. The one with the landing platform.” There was no way they’d bring Peter back to the tower, which meant Tony needed a suit. Now.

“Tony, we caught him!” Steve cried out after picking up on the first ring.

“How fucking dare you,” Tony said lowly. “The mission was to learn his identity, Rogers. Not drug him and arrest him!” By the end, he was yelling into the phone. “Where the fuck did you take him?”

“Tony-I thought this was the best course of action. He was avoiding us even more.”

“Because Clint took a fucking shot at him! If an Avenger tried to take you out, would you really be peachy-keen and excited to chat?!” Tony screamed. “You star-spangled shit, you’ve compromised everything! As if he’s ever going to work with us now, after this little stunt! Not to mention they’re talking about protests against us on the news!” Taking a deep breath, he exited the elevator and made a beeline for the nanotech suit he’d just finished up. Grabbing the little housing unit, he placed it against his chest and double-tapped it, allowing the suit to encase his body.

“Clint and I are with him at the compound. We’re upstate.” Steve’s reply came after a beat of silence, and he actually sounded remorseful. Fucking finally, Tony had a location. He blasted out of the lab and away from the tower, JARVIS automatically plugging in directions for the fastest route to the compound.

“Did Natasha know about this? What about Banner, or Thor?” Tony barked out, determined to get as much information as possible before he got there. He wanted to be able to put his full focus on Peter, not these idiots.

“No. Clint and I made the call. They’re not to blame for this, Tony.”

“Oh, and that makes things better? You kidnapped my-” Tony hesitated. Peter wasn’t technically his anything. “My Spider-Man,” he finished lamely.

“Yeah, we’re gonna have a chat about that, Tony. About the Stark Tech he’s wearing, and how your number is saved in his phone under the name ‘Snarky Bitch’. You’ve known. You knew this kid and didn’t tell the team.” Tony found his blood running cold for the second time that night.

You knew this kid.

“Steve Rogers, did you take off his mask?” He yelled, and the silence on the other end was enough of an answer. Feeling fury take over, Tony let go of any semblance of restraint he still had. That was the final straw. Peter had taken his secret identity incredibly seriously, and he deserved to reveal it to whomever he chose. Not have that choice taken from him.

“Yes, I know him. I know his name, and I’ve been helping him out,” Tony seethed. “Unlike you, you frozen fuck, I got him to trust me. He trusted me, and I helped him in return. He deserved that much. He’s sweet and kind and everything the world seems to think you are. But they were wrong. The great Captain America that the world knows would never drug and kidnap a college kid just because they didn’t do what he wanted.”

“Tony.” The voice on the other end cracked, and Tony smirked. Steve knew he was right.

“I expect you to be gone by the time I get there, which will be in about twenty minutes. You’d better stay away from him until I say otherwise, or I swear on my mother’s grave that your face will be meeting my gauntlet. Capische?”

“Understood. And-for what it’s worth, Tony, I’m sorry. I really thought this was the right call.” Tony huffed out a sigh.

“For future reference, if the plan involves drugs and kidnapping, it’s not the right call.” With that, he hung up on Steve and focused on getting to the compound as fast as he could. After a painstakingly long flight he arrived, storming through the doors and down to the detention level where he knew Peter would be. Tony exited the suit and put it on sentry mode, striding purposefully down the hall of cells, looking, searching--

Tony came to a dead stop in front of the last cell on the right and felt his heart fall right out of his body. It was Peter: restrained to a chair, in his suit but without his mask. His head lolled to the side and if Tony couldn’t see the rise and fall of his chest, he might have thought the young man was dead. Each of his legs was tied down to the chair and his hands were behind his back, likely in the vibranium cuffs still.

“JARVIS, unlock,” Tony whispered weakly, and rushed in as soon as the glass door slid open. Gently brushing Peter’s curls out of his face, he dropped to his knees in front of the man. “I’m so sorry, Peter. So, so sorry,” he whispered before making his way around to the cuffs so he could get Peter’s hands free.

---

Peter woke slowly, blinking against harsh light and instinctively letting out a groan of pain when his headache made itself known. Instinctively, he tried to rub his temple and couldn’t keep from whining softly when his hands were held down.

“Sit still, Pete. Please. I’m trying, okay? I promise, I’m trying.” Tony’s voice? That didn’t make any sense, Peter had been on patrol.

Patrol.

It all came flooding back to him - the dart, his dizziness, and the vague feeling of being restrained and carried off. After that, nothing. Now, he was awake and clearly restrained and Tony was there.

Tony had sold him out? Peter didn’t want to believe it, but it was the only thing that made sense. Tony was doing something with his cuffs and he was tied down tightly, unable to move. Tony knew his routines and when he liked to head home, and could have told the Avengers when it would be best to strike. When he’d be the most exhausted.

You idiot, he thought to himself. Peter dropped his head to his chest and tried desperately to fight back tears, not wanting Tony to know he was awake. As Spider-Man, he’d been shot, stabbed, punched and kicked. But this? This hurt the worst of anything he’d ever experienced.

All of a sudden, there was a loud bang and the pressure on his hands was gone. Peter pitched forward with a squeak of surprise, not expecting to be freed. Strong hands caught him and gently eased him back into the chair.

“Peter? You back with me?” Tony was in front of him now, face etched with concern as he brushed Peter’s hair out of his eyes and moved his hands down to his wrists. The older man gently massaged them, trying to ease any soreness as Peter slowly looked up at him.

“Why’d you do it?” He asked, shocked at how raspy his voice sounded. Tony just stared at him, confused.

“Because Steve and Clint are idiots, and this never should have happened. Bambi, I’m so sorry I didn’t check in sooner, I thought you were patrolling.” Tony started to ramble, and Peter’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“You didn’t...do this?” He asked, and winced at the horror that instantly took over Tony’s face.

“I’d never. I’d never, ever do something like this to you. You’re my Danger, my sweet-hearted vigilante who puts everyone ahead of himself and who I adore. I’m so sorry. If I’d known-” Tony was cut off by the swift press of Peter’s lips against his. Peter didn’t know why he’d doubted Tony for a second. Of course he would never sell him out - why would he help him and why would they be...whatever they were...if Tony’s whole endgame was to unmask him? He would have bailed after Peter pulled the mask off that one night all those weeks ago if that had been the case.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, hiccuping as he tried to keep the tears at bay. “I just-I woke up and felt you doing something with my hands and I thought-I thought-”

“You thought I was putting you in the cuffs instead of taking you out of them,” Tony murmured in understanding. Peter just nodded as the other man focused on releasing his legs.

“I’m sorry-” he tried to repeat but was stopped by a finger against his lips. As soon as the finger was removed, it was replaced with a set of soft lips.

“No apologies, Bambi,” Tony whispered, and Peter just nodded again. He still felt exhausted and sluggish, likely because of the drugs making their way through his system. Luckily, Tony seemed to read his mind. “How about we head up to my private rooms, get something to eat, and watch a movie? Hm? Just like we always do.”

“That sounds nice,” Peter murmured back, pecking Tony’s lips one more time. He then grasped the man’s hand, slowly standing up and yelping in shock when his knees immediately gave out and he went crashing towards the floor.

That never happened, though. He was caught in a pair of strong arms and lifted up in a princess carry as Tony prevented the cold concrete from greeting his face. Peter’s arms instinctively wrapped around Tony’s neck.

“I’m sure I can walk if I could just try again,” Peter tried to protest, and Tony leaned their foreheads together.

“Let me do it. You’ve probably still got some stuff in your system, and I’ve been worried sick ever since I saw the news. Just let me take care of you. Let me take care of my-” Tony cut himself off, hesitating.

“Boyfriend,” Peter blurted out before staring at Tony with wide eyes. You don’t know that he wants that, Parker. His friends literally just drugged and kidnapped you, he’s probably just feeling protective--

“Boyfriend,” Tony repeated. A huge, real smile was plastered on his face as he held Peter even closer. “Let me take care of my boyfriend.” Blushing, Peter responded by simply pressing his face into Tony’s neck as though it would allow him to hide. After a split second, he pressed a soft kiss to the skin there. Tony nuzzled his face into Peter’s hair for a moment before turning and walking out of the cell.

“You know, I never got to hear about your night. Before all this, I mean,” Tony remarked as he carried Peter towards the elevator.

“I guess not,” Peter mused, pulling back just enough to look up at his boyfriend. Boyfriend, he could say that now.

“So...what’s up, Danger?”

“Oh my god.”

[neworleansspecial]

shielding the other one with their body with Buck x Eddie

thematically relevant to the day / under a read more//

Bobby gave them both the day off. Buck knows it's from a place of love, and that he's trying to give them the ability to cope with the day in whatever form that takes, but he'd rather be at work where he doesn't have to spend the whole day on edge.

He used to love the Fourth of July. When he was a kid, it meant the fireworks and the sparklers and running around with his friends in the middle of summer. Since meeting Eddie, though, he's come to learn more about the negative side of it. Lots of veterans have a hard time with the fireworks, he learned over the course of his research, and in fact many of them go through that fear and memory alone. He doesn't let Eddie. In the past he'd just come over after his shift and make dinner with Eddie and Christopher, and the three of them would draw the blinds, turn off all the lights, and sit in the living room together to watch the fireworks on TV.

Really, Buck gets Bobby's concern. Everyone is still on edge from the sniper, and Buck and Eddie had been there at the center of the chaos when it all started. Dr. Copeland warned Buck that he may have a strong reaction to the fireworks this year, like a lot of people who have trauma regarding explosions or gunshots. He asked her if she thought he endured a trauma. She asked him if he was ready at that moment to unpack it.

And if this might be hard for him, he can only imagine what it will be for Eddie, who already hated fireworks and was the one actually shot by the sniper. It makes sense that Bobby doesn't want them on shift today, when their minds might be elsewhere and they're both on edge.

He arrives at Eddie's house a little after eight bearing gifts. He has ingredients for a simple dinner they can cook in the house, rather than on the grill outside, beer, ice cream, and his overnight bag. Rather than knock on the door, he lets himself inside with his key and begins unloading the grocery bags in the kitchen while he listens to the Diaz boys going about their morning routine at the other end of the hallway.

"Good morning," he yells, for good measure.

They both call back, bringing a smile to his face.

It's a relatively calm day, all things considered. They play video games together and watch the new Pixar movie with two heaping bowls of popcorn. Christopher had been invited to go see the fireworks in person with Abuela and all her cousins, but he said he wanted to stay here with his dad, even if it meant all the fireworks were relegated to the flatscreen. He's a good kid, Buck thinks. Dinner also goes off without a hitch, the three of them eating at the table while Christopher talks about the latest part of that new chapter book series he's been devouring. Buck bought him the last three books when he saw Eddie hesitating in the book section of Target, looking at the numbers on the back cover.

The first firework comes a little before dusk. Neither of them are prepared for it, even though Buck knows that people tend to shoot them off early- especially people who don't know what they're doing, like the assholes who light fireworks in the middle of a fucking cul-de-sac.

Buck doesn't know exactly what happens between one moment and the next. He hears the sound, and the next thing he knows, he and Eddie are on the floor, legs tangled together, his body poised over Eddie's, hands at either side of his face. His heart is beating out of his chest and all he can really think about is that moment when he himself was pressed face down on the asphalt. He was safe, in that moment. Eddie wasn't.

"I- I'm sorry," Buck stutters. "I had to- I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," Eddie interrupts. "Just let me up?"

Buck gets on his feet first and holds a hand out to help Eddie back to his. He's embarrassed. Guilty. But he's not sure exactly where the instinct came from to do something like that. The two of them go into the kitchen to get a beer instead of straight back to the living room.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Eddie asks while he searches for the bottle opener in his drawer of random kitchen items.

"I don't know why I did that."

Eddie pulls out the bottle opener and fumbles with it long enough for Buck to see that his hands are shaking. "You watched me get shot."

"Exactly, I didn't get-"

"No." Finally, he gets his beer open. "Comparing traumas isn't healthy for either of us. Frank and I have talked about that a lot. PTSD is defined as experiencing or witnessing a traumatic event. You just heard a noise that sounds a lot like a gunshot like a month after I got shot in front of you, of course you're going to react."

It takes Buck just as long to get his bottle open. He takes a sip before he considers his response to that. Eddie's right, always is, and in fact said something similar to what Dr. Copeland has been, but it's still hard for Buck to really believe. He's working on that.

"I'm sorry I did that, though."

"It's okay. I'm not mad."

"Are you okay?"

Eddie takes the exact same pause as Buck. "No. My heart is still beating out of my chest and I feel like I need to hide under the bed for cover."

"Would it help you if you did?"

They both glance back to the living room, where Chris is coloring while the news shows the parade in wait of the fireworks soon to come. That first firework won't be the last- in fact, things are just going to get worse and worse as the evening goes on until it finally calms down much later than it should. Buck means no judgement- if Eddie feels safe under his bed, Buck will help him crawl his ass under there and sit watch next to it until the cows come home.

"No. I'd feel trapped."

"What would help?"

"I don't know."

While they finish their beers, they stay quiet. There aren't many words for a holiday seemingly designed to bring flashbacks and terror. If he was home alone when he heard that first firework, Buck would probably have broken the good liquor out of his cabinet and gotten drunk until he passed out and slept through it all. It's not a healthy coping mechanism, but hey- he's still working on those, and he made the choice to go somewhere safe tonight rather than tempt himself with something like that.

"Well, if you figure out what you need, I'm here."

Once they throw out their bottles to head back to the living room, Buck holds out a hand. Eddie doesn't say a word as he takes it, but he doesn't let go for the rest of the night.

[babymetaldoll]

Danger Days - Chapter nineteen: "If you're gone (maybe it's time to come home)"

Word count: 16,9K

Summary: Joey is not ready to start touring, but being away from Matthew sounds like a good plan to get over him. But... Matthew has other plans, and he is determined to be forgiven. Gerard is not letting his illusions go either, but he has to realize he is wasting his time.

Warnings: Cursing, there are some arguments, a little angst, and some fluff.

A/N: I'm soft.

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen | Chapter sixteen | Chapter seventeen | Chapter eighteen | Chapter nineteen | Chapter twenty | Chapter twenty one | Chapter twenty-two | Chapter twenty-three | Chapter twenty-four |

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::: March 30th, 2011. Los Angeles :::

Frank sighed and looked around. It was early morning, and there was chaos around him. It was video shooting day, and his family was with him at the small indoor venue where MCR was recording the “Planetary Go” music video. Five hundred kids were outside, waiting in line to get there and be part of the show. Meanwhile, inside the arena, his wife and kids hung out with Joey, Ray, and Mikey in the dressing room. They were still waiting for Gerard, who was late, as pretty much always.

- "I brought some things you might need through these next months"- Jamia said to Joey as Frank walked closer- Mostly books and a few maternity shirts I loved.

- "Thank you! I’m gonna need all your help, ‘cos I have no fucking idea what I’m doing."

- "You are gonna be just fine! You have mom material!"- Jamia pointed out as the young woman held Lily in her arms, smiling- "You are glowing"- Joey grinned- "Now tell me everything about, have you seen him? Have you talked to him? Did you tell him?"

The drummer widened her eyes and held her breath for a second. Mikey looked at her and kissed her temple.

- "I’ve seen him, I told him, he is thrilled, he has been..."- she made a pause and tried to find the right words to describe how the last ten days had been for her- "Incredibly caring and supportive. I hate him"- Mrs. Iero frowned.

- "He is making it hard for you to hate him, right?"

- "Awfully! I swear I have to do some exhausting mental work to keep myself from forgiving him each time I see him! It’s awful!"

- "If you want to forgive him…"- Jamia started, but Joey shook her head.

- "No! This is not about forgiving him because I won’t! once a cheater, always a cheater!"

- "Yeah… that’s true."

- "And I don’t trust him!"

- "I know…"

- "And..."

- "It’s ok, Joey. Don’t worry"- Jamia smiled and changed the subject- "Did you tell your parents yet?"

- "No, we are gonna be in Seattle in four days, so I’ll tell them in person."

- "Are they going to the show?"

- "Yeah! They are thrilled! And they want to meet the band, which I know is gonna be weird. I’m so glad you are coming along for this leg."

- "I was dying to come with you, and now you have two babies to get used to"- Joey chuckled, but her happiness was clouded when Gerard walked into the room with Lynz.

Ever since her talk with Mikey, Joey had successfully managed to stay away from Gerard. And the best part: no one had asked if there was something wrong, ‘cos though neither Frank nor Ray knew the details of the story, they both knew there was something definitely wrong in the way Gerard looked at the drummer, and she was clearly awkward around him.

Gerard was in hell, and he knew he deserved it. He had crossed the line, and the distance between him and Joey was the proof. Gerard was afraid even to talk to her, and he felt the wall his brother had created around her. Mikey wasn’t mad at him anymore. He was just worried about him and also a little disappointed. Gerard had always made sure to give him a positive example- even in his darkest times- and suddenly, that whole mess fell upon them.

- "Hey guys!"- Lynz said with a happy face and arms wide open as she walked into the room and started hugging everybody, including Joey, who felt like a whore the second she saw her. She had promised her she was never going to do anything with her husband, and she had failed.

- "Hi Lynz! How are you?"- Joey tried to keep a straight face and smiled.

- "Congratulations! Gerard told me about your baby!"

- "Thank you so much!"- the drummer was making the biggest effort to look happy and natural- "Wanna see the ultrasound?"

Gerard looked at the scene, and his stomach tightened. Joey seemed to be so happy. The drummer gave Frank his daughter and took the ultrasound from her backpack.

- "Hey! I wanna see it too!"- Ray said, moving closer.

- "That little bean is my baby!"- Joey pointed and chuckled- Can you believe that tiny thing is gonna be a person?!

- "Shit!"- Ray sort of mumbled- "It’s so small!"

- "Ok, kids! outfits ready?"- Brian walked into the room and looked at them- "Neither of you is ready, come on! Move! We are late!"

Matthew finished packing and smiled. He wasn’t carrying much, but it was enough to follow Joey for the next eighteen concerts she had with the band, starting march 21st and until April 23rd. His plan was simple: standing in the first row of every show and cheering for the drummer. He wanted to show her how much he loved her, and he was willing to postpone his whole life for her. He had gotten in trouble in his job for doing that, and he didn’t care. He wanted to be with Joey, and he wanted her to know how much he loved her, and if that meant being fired from Criminal Minds, so be it.

He put the eighteen tickets for the shows he had already gotten in an envelope and smiled pleased.

- "This has to work"- he said out loud- "I mean… it has to, ‘cos I don’t know what to do next…"- he grabbed his phone and looked at the hour.

- “Good luck with the video today”- he wrote and sent.

The latest days had been weird for him and Joey. She would accept to see him when it came to things related to the baby, but of course, she would never let him get too close. The nap they had shared had been the last time he had held her in his arms. The rest of the time, she had been distant, and though he had done his best to stay calm and positive, sometimes it scared him to think maybe he was really going to die trying to get her back.

But “weird” didn’t mean bad, though. And Matthew had made the best of the time he had shared with her. He would bring her treats she liked and would call every morning to know how she felt. She always picked up. That was good; it meant she didn’t hate talking to him.

He also took her to see a nutritionist, to help them make a meal plan, considering Joey wasn’t the healthiest person when it came to meals. They also had a conversation with a personal trainer to help her identify the exercises and movements she could do to train and stay fit those first months. Besides, Matthew kept getting thoughtful presents to make her pregnancy more comfortable, and he brought one every day as an excuse to see her, even for a minute. He got her the pregnancy pillow and customized it as one of his stuffed monsters. He got her natural spa products for her bath to help her relax. He even got a tiny drum for the baby. Joey hated him because she couldn’t stay mad at him if he was being so adorable. He bought her so much food she was sure she was getting fat for eating too much and not because of her pregnancy.

- “Thank you”- his phone dinged, and he quickly read the text, smiling.

- “Wanna come for dinner tonight?”- he wrote and held his breath. It was a bold move, but he needed to play all his cards.

- “Better not, I’ve got an early flight.”- she replied. Joey held the phone in her hands tight, locked in the bathroom. She really didn’t have to change for the video, she just had to put on an MCR t-shirt, and she wanted to fix her hair. Joey wasn’t really going to be in many shots anyway, she just was a support player in the back. She couldn’t take the eyes from the phone, though she knew she had to. She was waiting for Matthew’s answer.

- “Can I stop later to say goodbye?”- and a smile lodged on his lips as he wrote those words. Joey had no idea he was going to be on tour. Joey bit her inner lip as she considered the options. She wanted to see him but didn’t want to give him hope, but he was the father of her kid, but… he cheated.

- “I can bring some dinner, in case you get home tired and you don’t want to cook.”

- “Mother fucker!!”- the girl coursed and sighed- “See you at seven.”

- "Yes!!"- Matthew jumped from his bed and danced around his room on his own. He just had to be calmed and try not to fuck it up. He could do that, right?

Lynz kept a good eye during the whole day, trying to see if Joey would look at Gerard, but she didn’t. They didn’t really talk at all. She knew Joey had told her they weren’t close, which made sense with the scene in front of her. It was like Gerard didn’t exist for the drummer.

- “Isn’t that weird too?”- Mrs. Way thought. She could notice Gerard was concentrated entirely on the whole “making the video” process. He kept checking with the director and making sure everything was ok. Joey talked with Mikey and laughed a lot with Ray. Her husband and the young woman never interacted except during the show. Gerard wouldn’t stop going back to the drum and looking at her every time they had to perform. Just like Lynz had seen in the Valencia show. Joey didn’t seem to pay that much attention. She would be playing, their eyes would crush, they would nod, that was it.

- “Ok, if it doesn’t seem to be anything going on, why can’t I shake these thoughts from my head”- the bassist asked herself as she kept staring at her husband performing.

During the break, Joey walked away from the stage and the noise and locked herself in the bathroom again. She checked her cell phone and read.

- “Do you think we could ever get to be friends?”- and she held her breathing, nearly in shock. The text was from Gerard. When the fuck did he text her? He had been there the whole time. She looked around, but she was alone in the bathroom. She reread it, frowning. Why was he texting her? They had managed to spend weeks talking the minimal, and she was completely in favor of keep doing the same for the rest… of her life, basically. And so she didn’t reply. It was clearly easier for her to stay away from Gerard than from Matthew for obvious reasons.

- "Hey!"- Lynz walked into the bathroom and smiled. Joey kept looking at her reflection in the mirror, fixing her makeup- "How are you feeling?"

- "Like I could puke everything I’ve ever eaten, and at the very same time, so fucking hungry"- the drummer answered with a smile- "How have you been? I haven’t seen you since London."

- "Good, busy, thank God. That’s the only way I can stand being apart from Gerard for so long."

- "It was an eternal tour!"- Joey added- "It felt like a lifetime! Are you coming along these following dates?"

- "Yeah! I’ll be there on April 5th, I have to finish a project I’m doing with a friend, and I’ll take a plane to Canada."

- "Awesome!"- Joey was doing her best to be as normal as possible. Besides, she honestly liked Lynz- "You and Jamia! Finally, I’m not gonna be the only woman around! You have no idea how exciting this is for me. I’ve been around guys my whole life, but I really need a break after these last months. I’m actually hoping to have a girl"- Joey guided her hand to her stomach and chuckled.

- "What did Matthew say, by the way?"- the drummer sighed and closed her eyes- "Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Gerard told me what happened between you two."

- "No, don’t worry"- Joey smiled and sighed again- "Matthew is happy with the baby news."

- "That’s good."

- "He is thrilled, actually. He cried when I told him, cried during the ultrasound, cried when he realized the baby due is close to Halloween."- Joey couldn’t help but smile, remembering his face, tears filling his eyes as she told him she was pregnant. She had never imagined he would be so happy.

- "And how is everything between you two?"

- “Did that little shithead tell his wife everything going on in my life or what?!”- the drummer didn’t answer. She felt pretty awkward knowing Lynz was aware of the whole story.

- "Sorry… I didn’t mean to intrude."

- "It’s ok… I…"- Joey scratched the back of her neck, honestly nervous about explaining her mind- I’m sorry, I’m just not really used to talk about things with people.

- "No, please, I was out of place, I just… Gerard was in shock when he told me, and he said you were pretty affected"- Joey nodded and looked down.

- "Yeah, I was a mess, but I’m better now…"- the two of them stayed in silence for a few seconds, that felt like hours- "I should go back"- Joey pointed to the door, and Lynz nodded.

- "I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable"

- "Don’t worry, I’ve got problems communicating with people… not just in this matter"- Joey tried to smile, though she knew she still looked pretty awkward- "It’s a long story."

- "Hey, no need to explain, really"- Lynz opened her arms and hugged her.

Joey didn’t get a thing. Why was she being so nice? Did Lynz want to be her friend? Was she being honest or just trying to be friendly under the circumstances? Did she want to get closer to her to know if she was crushed on Gerard? There were too many questions around Joey’s head, and she didn’t have the time or the energy to try to find an answer to any of them. She just hugged Lynz back and cut her a friendly smile.

The whole recording process took the entire morning and part of the afternoon. By the time they were done- and gave the kids in the audience a short show of five songs - the band and their families were ready to go home.

- "Bug, we are gonna go grab dinner together. Wanna come?"- Mikey wrapped an arm around Joey and kissed her temple as they all grabbed their things in the dressing room.

- "I’m too tired. I wanna go home."

- "Want me to go with you? Ask for some take-out? Maybe from the Vietnamese place you wanted to try, watch a movie… you know, rest before the tour that’s coming, what do you say?"- Joey smiled but declined.

- "I have plans…"- Mikey raised an eyebrow and nodded.

- "You are gonna see Gubler"- and by the tone in his voice, she knew he wasn’t happy with the news.

- "He is gonna drop by to say goodbye."

- "Sure… are you sure you are ok with him?"

- "What do you mean?"

- "You have been hanging out with him a lot."

- "No, I haven’t!"

- "Name one day this week you haven’t seen him"- Mikey furrowed his brows and crossed his arms on his chest, staring at the drummer.

- "Today?"- she answered, thinking.

- "See?"

- "He keeps bringing presents for the baby. What am I going to say? Stop being such a good dad?"

The whole band was overhearing the conversation. They were all pretty nosey, actually. And the whole Matthew/Joey drama was their favorite subject at the moment.

- "He ain’t trying to be a good dad! He is trying to win you over! Are you gonna let him break your heart again?"

That escalated quickly. Joey stood in front of his friend, not knowing what to say. Lucky for her, Lynz was the one to talk next.

- "Are you jealous, Mikey?"- though her words weren’t really the best to be spoken at the moment. The bassist looked at his sister in law almost in shock, nearly insulted.

- "Not jealous, worried. I am concerned about her ‘cos I don’t want her to get hurt again, is that a fucking sin or what?"

- "No, it’s not! I’m just asking ‘cos you sound like a jealous boyfriend worried his girlfriend is gonna cheat or whatever."

Joey hated Lynz’s comment, every single word in it, ‘cos it was meant to start a fight. Had she said it with those intentions?

- “No, she didn’t… did she? Is she trying to know if Mikey and I are into anything? No, stop being paranoid!”

- "I’m not jealous, Lynz"- Mikey’s words were cold as he responded with a serious face- "I’m just worried and taking care of her. That’s what friends do."

- "Sorry! There’s no need to get all serious."

- "Ok, dinner?"- Ray clapped and tried to lighten the mood- "Let’s go before Frank gets all cranky."

They all nodded and started walking. Gerard made sure to stay a little behind as his wife talked with Jamia and moved closer to Joey.

- "You didn’t answer my text"- he whispered, and the drummer froze in shock, even a little scared. Why was he talking to her? They had managed to spend weeks without saying a word directly to each other. Why did he decide to talk to her the only day they had been around his wife?

- "Sorry, I’ve been busy"- Joey mumbled and started walking quickly to get away from him.

- "And would we ever be friends?"- Gerard asked, following her and talking under breath, making sure no one except her could hear him.

- "Sure, if you stop saying nonsenses, we can be friends."

- "Nonsenses? You mean telling you that I love you?"- the young woman widened her eyes and turned to him immediately.

- "Don’t say that! Ever again!"

- "But I do. I am in love with you, Sugar."

- "And that’s why we can’t be friends"- Joey sentenced and walked to her car, never looking back. She said goodbye to the rest of the band, kissed Cherry and Lily a few times each, and drove home.

- “What the fuck Gerard?!”- she yelled inside her head- “What the fuck is his problem?! His wife was right here? And he keeps telling me that he loves me? is he stupid? Has the stress affected his brain functions? Did he start drinking again?”.

There was no explanation for his behavior, and it freaked Joey out, ‘cos a new leg of the tour was starting the day after, and she didn’t want to face it that way. She didn’t want to travel with Lynz knowing her husband was trying to get into her pants again.

Again, that was the worst part. Joey felt like a whore knowing what had happened with Gerard. She didn’t want to even think about it, but the image kept coming to her mind. His lips on her, kissing her jawline, her neck, her breast… If she hadn’t thought he was Matthew, would she have let him go on? If she wasn’t in love with her ex, would she had sex with Gerard, even knowing he was married?

The answer could actually scare her, ‘cos it was against everything she had ever believed in. But she thought it was possible. The only thing that kept her from having sex with Gerard was that she was in love with Matthew.

If she had sex with Gerard, would she stop loving Matthew? The girl shook her head, frowning, disgusted by her own thoughts. That was never going to be a good idea.

Gerard was in silence, staring at the food in front of him. He didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to be there. He could hear his friends talking, his wife laughing, but all his mind could register was the fact Joey was now in her apartment with Gubler. With the guy he hated the most in the whole world. With the guy Gerard wanted to be. The guy he was jealous of. The one she loved instead of him. Just the thought of what could happen between them made him sick in the stomach.

Was she going to forgive him? Was she going to have sex with him? Was she going to marry him after all? Matthew was going to be with her that night. He was going to make her laugh, he was going to lean over her slowly and whisper sweet words in her ear. He was gonna make her blush, he was going to get her wet and cream her undies.

The singer shook his head and tried to think of anything else. But he couldn’t.

- "Are you ok?"- his wife asked, frowning- "You haven’t had a bite."

- "I’m not hungry"- Way whispered and tried his best to cut her a nice natural, all innocent smile.

- "Sure?"- Lynz touched his forehead in case he had a temperature, but he was ok- "Do you want to go home and rest?"- the singer nodded right away

- "Yes, I think I need to lay down for a while."

- "Ok, I’ll tell the guys."

Gerard was full of it. But going home and locking himself in his studio sounded like a nice idea. At least there, no one could see him freaking out over the idea of Joey being with someone else but him.

Matthew counted to ten as he stood outside his car and took three deep breaths to calm himself down. He had done the same, like a mantra, each time he walked into Joey’s apartment those days. He had to control himself from running over, from making a mistake. He had to make sure he wasn’t going to mess it up with her, Paget had told him over and over again: he only had one chance to make things right, and he couldn’t fuck it up.

His friend was the only one who knew Matthew was gonna be a dad, and she was as thrilled as he was, mostly ‘cos she knew how badly Gubler wanted to have a baby. And the fact he loved Joey more than anything made it even more perfect. Well, it would be perfect if he hadn’t cheated, but both of them hoped to fix that any time now. As soon as possible, as a matter of fact.

- "Hey"- Matthew smiled as his ex-girlfriend opened the door. She was already in her pajamas, make-up swept off her face, a messy bun on her hair, and some chocolate around her lips. Matthew had never seen her as beautiful as in that moment.

- "Shouldn’t you be quitting sugar already? We agreed no more lava cakes from this week on."

- "I’m eating the leftovers from the fridge, ‘cos it’s all gonna be rotten when I come back, and the whole place is gonna stink"- Joey answered, cleaning the corner of her mouth, turning back to the kitchen.

- "You know chocolate won’t get bad… wait, where did you get chocolate from?"- Joey turned to him and grinned.

- "Frankie got me some"- Gubler nodded and left the take-out boxes on the counter.

- "Are you hungry?"

- "Actually… I don’t know… are you?"

- "A little. But I can wait a while if you want…"- he smiled at her and stared in silence. The young woman turned away to the fridge again and opened it.

- "Anything else that’s gonna spoil while you are away?"- he asked.

- "Not much… peanut butter will live, I guess."

- "Yeah."

- "And ketchup."

- "Yeah… but ketchup was making you sick a few days ago."

- "But who knows next week..."- the conversation between them was so natural, neither of them remembered how bad things were between them for a long while.

They talked about the fridge, the new self-watering system Joey had gotten for her plants, and how excited she was to see her parents again. And that was when Matthew pushed things a little too far.

- "Are you going to tell them about the baby?"

- "I don’t know"- Joey simply answered and walked away from him. She had been walking away from him most of the time he had spent in her apartment, and he kept following her like a lost puppy through the whole place.

- "Why not?"

- "‘Cos they are gonna ask too many things. ‘Cos I want to know if everything is ok with the baby first, wait until he is twelve weeks. And mostly, ‘cos I’m gonna have to tell them you are a cheater mother fucker and that we are not getting married, and I haven’t seen them in forever… I don’t wanna ruin the trip."

- "Maybe you don’t have to tell them we broke up,"- Joey raised an eyebrow and looked at him, standing on the frame of the bathroom door, staring at her putting all her beauty products (the few she had) in a “go-to” bag.

- "Sure, Matthew"- her answer was snarky, and she refused to turn to him.

- "I mean… we don’t have to break up"

- "Again? You wanna do this again?"- her voice was annoyed, making it clear she was tired of talking about their relationship.

- "We’ve danced around the subject all week, and we haven’t properly talked about it."

- "We are over because your cock was in your ex’s mouth the night of your birthday a few weeks ago. That’s all there is to know about that subject. That’s why we are in this fucking shitty situation. And no, Matthew Gray Gubler, I am not going to forgive you! So can you just drop it?!"

A heavy silence hung in the room. Joey lost it, and she ended up yelling. She was tired, she was sad, she was stressed. And most of it, she was anxious and slightly depressed over the whole deal.

- "I’m tired of this shit! We are gonna be parents together. I swear I am doing my best to get along with you and have a healthy relationship. Still, the fact is, I am doing my best to stop fucking loving you ‘cos I am not going to get back together with you! Ever!"

Her words were full of anger, and she couldn’t stop herself from screaming at him.

Matthew looked at Joey in silence. He didn’t know what to say at that. He had a lot of ideas in his head, but all of them were probably just going to get her even more upset. And that was the last thing he wanted to do that minute. And so, he just nodded and turned around and left the room. Joey sat on the edge of the bathtub and bit her lips.

- "I got this for our baby today"- he murmured a few minutes later when he walked back to the bathroom.

- "What is it?"- Joey mumbled and looked at the iPod Matthew gave her- "What? You know the baby won’t use one of these in probably another ten years, right?"

- "It’s not the iPod, it’s what’s in it"- the drummer nodded and wondered what was in it- "I just…"

Matthew cleared his throat. Words came painfully slow from his lips as he spoke.

- "I recorded a few stories and tales and things for the baby, so they can listen to my voice while you are away. That way, they won’t forget me"- Joey’s heart ached in love at those words.

- “This is one smooth loving bastard”- she thought and took a deep breath- "Thank you, that’s very thoughtful"- he shook his head and took a few steps back from her, ‘cos he knew all his body wanted was to lean over her and kiss her.

- "It’s nothing"- he sighed and made a pause- "I’m just worried if we are not gonna be together again, my baby might forget about me."

Those words broke Joey’s already broken heart. The sadness that Matthew’s face reflected showed her how bad he was feeling and reminded her that this was also a troubled time for him. Even when he was the one that had brought those problems to their relationship.

- "I promise you, that’s never gonna happen. You are always going to be our baby’s dad, and you are always going to be part of their life, no matter what"- he nodded and looked down, biting the inner part of his cheeks.

- "I think I better go"- Joey didn’t want him to go. He didn’t want to go, but her words had been so hard, they had left him speechless. Uneasy. Depressed.

- "You…"- the young woman stood up and took a deep breath, not know what to say- "You can take your part of dinner if you want."

That was not what she wanted to say. She wanted to say, “I’m sorry I just said all that in the nastiest way possible. I fucking love you, stay with me and hold me ‘cos I am scared and sad and alone”. But that was not what came out from her lips.

Matthew nodded and walked to the kitchen. He sighed and closed his eyes as he grabbed his box of Chinese noodles. That evening hadn’t come out as he was hoping. It had actually been the complete opposite. He had fucked it up. Making Joey upset only caused more pain to the two of them. He knew she would say things in the most painful way possible, not because she wanted to, but because that’s how she reacted when hurt. Hurting back. Hurting deeper.

Joey stood in the middle of the hall, watching Matthew grab all his things and turn to her.

- "Take care"- he whispered, and she nodded slowly.

- "You too."

- "I’ll call you to know about the baby bean"- she nodded again.

- "Of course. I’ll see you when I come back, and we’ll have another check-up"- he looked at her as she whispered those words. Each one of them hurt as they left her lips, ‘cos they were goodbye words, and she didn’t want to say goodbye.

Matthew just stood there, staring at her, not knowing how to move. He didn’t have the strength to walk away from her at that moment. Still, the words she had just practically yelled at him were a warning he was pushing her, and by pushing, he was never going to make things better. He had such a sad look in his eyes, Joey took a step closer to him. He kept his eyes on hers, almost holding his breath.

- "And… thank you for being here with us"- she held her hand on her tiny belly as she spoke- "I know it’s hard and all, I just… want you to know… I appreciate it."

- "They are my baby too"- he simply answered with a short and sad smile on his lips- "I would do anything for the two of you, any day."

Joey bit her lips and took another step closer. He stood still, not knowing what to do. Joey walked slowly to him and stood right in front of him.

- "Sorry about what I said"- she managed to whisper.

- "No, Joey, please don’t apologize, you said what you said ‘cos it’s the truth, and I understand how mad you are… please don’t say you are sorry for something I brought to myself, to the two of us"- Matthew made a pause and sighed, his eyes stuck into Joey’s- "To the three of us, actually"- she nodded slowly.

- "I didn’t want you to leave with an argument if we were not going to see each other until another month"- Joey managed to murmur but couldn’t hold her eyes in Matthew’s for another second, and so she looked down.

- "I didn’t want to start a fight either…"

The two of them stayed in silence. The distance between them was so small Matthew could hold her tight if he only took one step ahead. But he controlled himself. It was one of the most challenging efforts he had ever made, and he moved his hand to her chin, lifting her face sweetly.

- "Take care, ok?"- his eyes traveled slowly from her lips to her eyes, and he noticed how her cheeks blushed sweetly.

- "Ok"- she whispered, nodding.

- "I’ll call you"- she didn’t say a thing and just nodded again. Matthew moved carefully over her and landed his lips on her forehead. It was the sweetest touch Joey had ever recalled feeling from him. So delicate and tender, and at the same time with such intense love. It was impossible for her not to close her eyes and feel her knees trembling. He stared at her in silence and smiled shyly before whispering “Goodnight” and walking out of her house.

Joey stared at the door and restrained herself from the deep desire to run after him and wrap her arms around his neck, to kiss him deeply. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She shouldn’t. Instead, she walked to her couch and laid down, wrapping her arms around her legs, feeling how warm tears fell from her eyes. How many times can a heartbreak after being broken? ‘Cos every time Matthew said goodbye, her heart ached, just like the day they broke up. And her body ached, feeling the empty space he left by her side.

- "I love you so fucking much"- she mumbled, sobbing. Tears kept falling like a waterfall until she fell asleep.

::: March 31st, 2011. Oakland :::

Mikey looked at Joey as they walked into the hotel and checked in. They had hardly shared a word that day, ever since they left California. She sat with Jamia and helped with the babies the whole trip, and her plan was to continue to do the same until it was time to play the show.

- "Are you mad?"- he asked out of the blunt as he stood next to her in the middle of the lobby, both waiting for their room keys.

- "No, why?"

- "You are not talking to me."

- "You haven’t talked to me either"- she answered with a shrug- "Are you mad at me?"- Joey furrowed her brows as she spoke, thinking maybe that was the point, and she never actually noticed it.

- "No"

- "Then?"

- "Are you ok?"

- "I’m tired and puked breakfast on the plane, you?"

- "I’m tired and drank three coffees on the plane ‘cos I couldn’t sleep"- Joey nodded at her friend’s words- "Why does it feel weird?"- Mikey pointed out and crossed his arms on his chest

- "I don’t know... - the drummer answered and looked at his shoes- "I love those boots."

- "I’m not gonna give them to you. They are not your number."

- "Shut up"- Joey cut him a short smile, and he did the same- "I hated Lynz’s comment last night"- Joey confessed and kicked Mikey’s boot friendly

- "Me too… Gerard said I was too rude to her."

- "You were, but she kind of deserved it"- Mikey chuckled at Joey’s confession- "Really, I just hated so much how she was insinuating you were jealous of whatever, considering she has no idea we are best friends!

- "I know! I thought the same"

- "That’s ‘cos we are best friends"- Joey added and smiled, giggling. Mikey looked at her and wrapped his arms around her slowly.

- "Did you have a good night after you saw that asshole?"

- "Yeah, it was ok"- Joey lied, hiding her face in his chest- "He brought dinner and left."

- "Good"- they rocked slowly, still hugged. Mikey kissed the top of her head and whispered- "I’m not jealous."

- "I know"

- "I’m just scared"

- "Why?"- Joey moved apart from him but never got an answer. Jeffrey showed up and gave them their keys.

- "Get ready. We’ve got an interview in an hour here in the conference room"- the bassist frowned, nodding.

- "Good news for me, I get to get some more sleep"- Joey added and stuck out her tongue to Mikey.

- "I hate you"

- "I know."

Gerard looked at his brother talking with Joey. He saw how they hugged. How he kissed the top of her head. How she smiled at him sweetly and hid her face on his chest. They looked like a fucking couple, and he hated everything about it.

- "Stop it"- Ray said and stood next to him- "I thought you were gonna be over your fucking obsession by now"- he pointed out with an eased tone of voice like he was just talking about the weather.

- "You are gonna fuck everything up if you keep looking at her like that"

- "What do you know?"

- "I know she won’t talk to you at all, and I think there has to be a reason I don’t know"- Gerard stayed still, pretending those hadn’t hurt him. Or scared him. He didn’t even look at Ray as he spoke.

- "And I know you like her, so stay away from her before you do something that ruins everything."

- "I’m not gonna ruin anything."

- "Your wife is gonna be here soon."

- "I love my wife."

- "I know… just try not to stare at Joey drooling, like she is the object of your undeniable desire and love when Lynz is around."

Gerard turned to his friend and tried to say something back, but nothing came out.

- "And for the love of God, don’t fuck it up!"- Ray tapped on his back and walked away.

Gerard Way was busted. He was fucked. And it was the first day of the tour.

Matthew laid on his bed and sighed. He was in Oakland, staying at a hotel two blocks from Joey’s. He had made sure not to book his room in the same place as her, to keep a safe distance in case she got too mad- which was always an option with her, especially under those circumstances. Those were the worst circumstances they had ever faced, so Matthew was being extra precautious. Even more after what had happened the night before. He was still angry with himself for pushing her too much. He had to be patient.

- “Let’s hope she won’t get angry with me for doing this.”- he thought and stared at the ceiling. He could only stay still for a minute or so. He quickly moved to his bag, grabbed a book and his phone.

- "Hey"- Joey’s voice at the other side of the line made him smile right away

- "Hello, how was your trip?"

- "It was ok"- Joey cleared her throat and looked at her feet as she walked around her room. She felt weird and awkward talking to Matthew after what had happened the night before- "How are you?"

- "I’m ok…"

- "How are you feeling from the bruises from the car crash?"

- "Like nothing ever happened"

- "Good…"- there was a silence on the line. Matthew could hear Joey’s breathing as she scratched the back of his neck and said the first thing that came to his mind.

- "So at what time is the concert tonight?"

- "At eight"

- "Good… and… are you having lunch soon?"

- "I don’t know. I was thinking about napping now and maybe grab a late bite before going to the arena."

- "Remember the nutritionist said you shouldn’t skip meals"- the drummer sighed, knowing he was right.

- "But I’m so sleepy, I’m gonna fall asleep on the table eating."

- "You couldn’t sleep last night? “God knows I couldn’t.”

- “I did. “No, I didn’t. I stayed up crying and thinking about how much I love you, damn it!”

- "Then why are you so tired?"

- "Maybe because I’m turning food into a human being"- Matthew chuckled at those words, and Joey smiled, listening to his reaction.

- "That seems to be a good reason. I’m sorry I questioned you"- the girl kept the grin on her face for a second

- "That’s ok. I should really go grab something to eat and then nap. You are right about that."

- "Talk to you later?"- he asked as casually as possible- "Maybe after the show, to know how you are feeling?"

- "Yeah, sure. Talk to you later, bye."

Matthew hung up and sighed. Just a few more hours and his plan to get his girl back would start. His stomach tightened as he imagined what Joey was gonna say when she saw him. Was she going to be mad? Was she going to be happy? Was the band going to hit him? There were too many questions for him to answer, so he did the only thing he could do: lay on his bed and grab the book he was carrying.

Jamia, the babies, and Joey had lunch together. The drummer loved having her around ‘cos she wasn’t alone back in the hotel all the time like she was in Europe, and that meant less time to overthink everything. She loved hanging out with Jamia ‘cos she was too nice and understanding with her. It felt like they could be friends. Jamia considered Joey her friend already, meanwhile the young woman still had trouble opening up with people.

Though she had to be honest with herself. The latest months had changed a lot of the things that made her a loner. It was all Matthew and My Chem. Except for Gerard. But for Joey, Gerard wasn’t really in the picture anymore. He was the guy she needed and wanted to avoid at any cost. Even if that cost meant to leave the band.

- "So… have you thought of any name already?"- Jamia and Joey were at the drummer’s room. The babies were napping, and the two women were laid on the bed, eating Oreos.

- "Not really… I just…"

- "It’s not real yet?"

- "It’s so not real yet"- Joey whispered and chuckled- "I keep looking at the ultrasound, and I can’t believe there’s a baby in my tummy… I bet I ate a sea monkey at some point, and that’s what’s been growing inside me"- Jamia snorted as she tried to keep it down and nearly laughed out loud.

- "Wait until the sea monkey starts kicking. That’s the weirdest thing of all"

- "You are not making it magical, J"- Joey made a pause and chuckled- "You are so gonna be J from now on"- and Jamia smiled.

- "Sounds nice coming from you."

- "Good, ‘cos I think I’ve got no more brain cells to think of anything else."

- "Oh honey! You are just starting!"- Mrs. Iero tapped on her friend’s leg as the two of them laid back next to the babies- "You have months of exciting emotions, like pregnancy arousal, cravings, hormonal changes, hair coming in weird places, and my personal favorite, pregnancy brain"- Joey frowned disgustedly.

- "I’m afraid to ask about the arousal, the hair, and the brain shit"

- "Whenever you are ready, I am here."

- "You are my Jamia San Kenobi"- Joey chuckled and sighed- "My pregnancy Jedi master"- and Jamia smiled.

- "I’m glad I can help"- and after a few minutes, they were both asleep as well.

The doors to the theater opened at five, and Matthew ran inside to make sure to grab a spot on the first row. He nearly tackled a few teenagers to get there. But he did and sighed, relieved at his success.

- "Hey! Where are you? did you make it?"- Paget called and didn’t even say hello to her friend. She just started asking questions right away, making him chuckle.

- "Hey! Yeah, I’m in Oakland, already at the theater. It’s a very cool venue, small, intimate… I’m almost sure Joey is gonna get to see me."

- "Are you in the first row?"

- "Of course, I am"

- "Good"- Paget smiled and nodded- "We miss you around here."

- "I’ll be there when everything is ok."

- "We know."

- "Is anyone mad at me?"- and Paget chuckled.

- "No, actually everybody thinks you are the sweetest and most romantic guy on earth following your girlfriend like that."

- "I’m following her to get her to be my girlfriend again, actually."

- "You get the point"- and Matthew chuckled- "Ok, Gubler, gotta go, please call me and tell me how this went."

- "Of course!"

- "Hey! Wait! Did you make a banner?"

- "Yes! I remembered your advice and got a banner."

- "What does it say?"

- “The distance is nothing when one has a motive”- the actor confessed proudly

- "Pride and Prejudice?"- Paget asked, puzzled.

- "Yes, her favorite, I’m making her banners with quotes from her favorite books"- and his friend sighed.

- "Stop it! I am gonna end up falling for you!"- and the actor chuckled- "If she doesn’t take you back, I am single!"

- "Shut up!"- Paget laughed, knowing Matthew had blushed, though he knew she was joking.

- "Call me later."

- "Sure thing!"

Joey kept jumping on her spot. She was backstage, feeling really psyched to play that day. She didn’t really know why. Maybe it was the two hours nap she had taken that afternoon with Cherry and Lily. Perhaps the fun size Snicker Mikey had just given her, breaking her meal plan on the first day on the road.

- "You look extra happy today"- and it all stopped the second she heard Gerard’s voice next to her.

- "Hey, yeah… I think it’s a sugar rush"- she answered and looked around, feeling safer knowing everybody was around her, including Jamia and the babies.

- "How are you feeling?"

- "Good"- Joey smiled and nodded- "You?"

- "Good… but I’m not pregnant"- the girl smiled and looked away from him, trying to keep that conversation as casual and distant as possible.

- "You look gorgeous, by the way"- Gerard whispered and even blushed as he moved a little closer to her- "I guess it’s true pregnant women glow and grow in beauty."

Joey took a step back and gulped as she felt her cheeks burning red as Gerard just continued talking.

- "‘Cos each time I see you, you catch my breath."

- "Please don’t..."

- "I’m just being nice"- Gerard smiled, pretending to look as innocent as possible.

- "You and I both know that’s not what you are doing."

- "Hey Iceland"- Frankie appeared all of a sudden and wrapped an arm around the young girl, kissing her temple and giving Gerard a glare that forced the singer to take a few steps back.

- "What are you guys talking about?"- and Joey sighed, relieved to feel him next to her, like a little guardian angel, though Frank Iero had nothing angelic.

- "I was just telling Joey she looks gorgeous today and that pregnant women are beautiful"- Gerard answered like it wasn’t a big deal at all. Joey wanted to run away or hide under a rock. Frank just tightened his arm around her and nodded.

- "Yes, she does… wanna help with my warm-up?"

That was the most random question Iero could come up with that second, but it didn’t matter, ‘cos Joey smiled and quickly said yes, escaping from Gerard’s presence. But not from his eyes that followed her through the room. He wasn’t worried anyone could see how much he loved her, ‘cos he didn’t want to hide it anymore. Not until Lynz was there, at least. But that was a problem he would face when the right time came, in a week or so.

- "What can I help you with, Jersey?"- Joey asked as Frank grabbed a few kettlebells and started making bicep curls.

- "Absolutely nothing, you just looked like you wanted to get the fuck away from him, and I decided to rescue you"- the young woman wanted to deny it all, but at that point, she was just so glad Frank had taken her away from Gerard, she just nodded and smiled.

- "You are such a smart guy"

- "You are gonna make me blush…"

- "Can I use one?"- she casually asked, pointing out the kettlebell.

- "Definitely not! You’re not lifting any weight until we talk with your doctor"- Joey rolled her eyes and shook her eyes.

- "We already did that. I am ok to work out… I just can’t… run and… carry heavyweights"- Frank raised an eyebrow, and she smiled guilty- "Sorry, I just love lifting weights."

- "Have your baby first, then we care gonna train like we are fucking CrossFit athletes"- the soon-to-be mother chuckled and reached out her hand to her friend.

- "Jersey, we’ve got a date."

The crowd was running anxious, and so was Matthew. He had stayed put on his spot in the first row, right in front of the drumset like his life depended on it, no matter how much kids would try to push him away.

- “This is gonna work, this is gonna work, this is gonna work,”- he kept repeating in his head as he felt the weight of two thousand people pushing him against the security fence.

The crowd started yelling louder and jumping as the band appeared on stage. And along with them came his girl.

His breath was caught in his throat as he looked at her walking to the drum, a huge smile lodged on her lips. She looked so happy, happy like she had always looked when playing. There was nothing Joey loved more than her job. She had fought so much to get there, Matthew could barely get a glimpse of how good she felt playing as a professional drummer.

Looking at her sitting behind the drum in a My Chemical Romance concert, with that sweet and happy grin on her face, made him fall a thousand times harder in love with her. He felt proud of her and jealous of all the people who had been able to see her glowing in joy in the latest months when he had been away from her.

- “You fucked it up! Now fix it!”

Gubler never noticed the countdown of the music had started, and all the kids were yelling every word in “Look Alive Sunshine” until Gerard’s voice took him from his thoughts. Joey started playing, and the singer yelled.

- Oakland!! Make some noise!!- and the show started.

The whole crowd jumped, and Matthew jumped along with them, his eyes locked in Joey, who was lost in her drum. He smiled, watching how her lips now moved along with the song, murmuring the lyrics. Of course, she had toured with them long enough to learn all the lyrics of each song. She would probably deny it but sing them in the shower when she knew no one was listening.

The first one who spotted Matthew was Mikey. He frowned as he looked at Gubler standing in the first row, not getting what the fuck was going on. But Matthew never cared -he hadn’t actually considered- the fact the band could spot him in the audience. There was no one else on that stage but Joey for him, and that’s why she was the only person he had eyes for.

As soon as “Na Na Na” ended, Mikey walked to Frank. The intro of “Mama” started, so the bassist talked as fast as possible.

- "Dude, Gubler is here"- Iero looked at him frowning- "The first row, staring at Joey"- Frank looked over and saw him. He hadn’t seen him ever since New Year, and if there was one thing the Jersey boy was dying to do was to break Matthew’s face so hard no one would ever recognize him again.

- "Mother fucker"- he said and didn’t take his eyes from the actor- "I’m gonna kill him!"

But at the moment, he didn’t have the chance, ‘cos he had to play a show. But for a second, he and Mikey shared a look and turned to Joey. She was playing, eyes shut, smiling. They knew she still had no idea what was going on. And that was ok for them.

It wasn’t long until Gerard found the actor. It wasn’t hard to see him ‘cos he was the tallest guy in the front row and the only one who wasn’t looking at him. Matthew was the guy who stood still, hypnotized with each movement of the drummer, drooling over her like a kid staring at his first love. Gerard felt how his whole body shook in anger. Even his hands shook with a deep desire to kill him. Right there, in front of everybody. But he couldn’t. He had to keep on singing, keep on playing. Keep on pretending everything was ok, not just for the show and the kids, but for Joey too. He kept wishing she hadn’t seen him yet. Maybe she could never see him.

But the singer needed to let Gubler know he was fucked. And so he stood right in front of him, at the very edge of the stage, and managed it to catch his eyes. Both of them looking at each other in such deep hate, it was obvious the pair knew they despised each other. Gerard didn’t think about it twice. He had the higher ground. It would be a shame not to take advantage. And so, he spit on Matthew, and an evil smirked lodged on him as he saw him cleaning his face in anger. That was a little piece of sweet, sweet revenge. But it still wasn’t enough to make the actor pay for everything he had put Joey through.

Ray widened his eyes when he spotted Matthew, just the second Gerard spitted on him. He saw the whole moment in action and knew it was gonna be hell after the show. What was Gubler doing there? Trying to get Joey back. Ray knew that moment was gonna come, eventually. Toro knew how much Matthew loved her. It was crystal clear for everybody to see.

Ray was the only one who could keep a cold head to analyze the whole picture, and that’s why he always tried to remind his friends Joey and Matthew weren’t a subject they could decide on. It wasn’t something related to them at all, though they were friends with her. They were their own thing, a thing they could merely watch but never ever control. It was clear neither of his friends had listened, and so Toro sighed. He was going to have to stop a big fight after that concert.

- "The next song"- Gerard said after “House of Wolves” was over. It was Joey’s favorite song, and they played it as often as possible- "It’s about being a kid, about you being a kid, about me being a kid, about us being a kid, about you having a kid"- Joey raised her eyes from the drums and looked straight into Gerard’s eyes. That’s when she heard him.

- "Yami!!"- it was Matthew’s voice, but it couldn’t be. Joey frowned and looked around.

- "Yami!!"- he yelled and raised the banner. Frank, Mikey, and Gerard looked at him in the most honest and pure hate anyone could have ever seen from them. Ray tried to concentrate on Joey. She was the one he cared about at that second. And when he saw the puzzled expression on her face as she looked at him, asking what was going on, Ray couldn’t control himself and pointed at the actor.

Joey’s heart stopped. It was Matthew, it was really him, standing there, on the first row of the concert, staring at her with the biggest smile anyone had ever had around her in her life. And he was holding a banner that read, “The distance is nothing when one has a motive.” She couldn’t move. She didn’t know what to do. He just smiled at her and mouthed, “I love you.”

- "Bug!! Bug, are you ok?"- Mikey waved in front of the drum and looked worried at the girl. She just nodded at him and then at Frankie, who stood next to the bassist.

- "Yeah, I’m ok"- she smiled and started counting. It was time to play “Kids from yesterday.”

Everybody loved that song, and she wasn’t going to fuck it up, not even if her eyes and mind were stuck looking at Matthew in front of her, as he kept smiling like a kid on Christmas morning as she played.

Gerard stared at the scene, and it felt he was gonna make a tantrum in the middle of the stage. Joey was staring at Matthew, and her whole face had lit up, even if she didn’t want to. And just like a little child, Gerard made sure to stand right between the two of them to stop them from looking at each other. And like if they could all build a fortress, Frank and Mikey stood around the drumset, protecting Joey, trying to make sure Matthew knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere near her, over their dead bodies.

Matthew didn’t give a damn. He just wanted to look at her. He just wanted her to know she was the most important person in his life and that he was willing to drop anything and everything just to be near her.

The song was ending. Joey kept playing drums, her eyes glued to Matthew’s, until Mikey stared at her, counting the beat at the song’s end. She nodded at her friend and kept playing, both of them, the two of them, to finish the song together, just like they had done for over five months now, in perfect timing. Joey loved that part, and he knew it, ‘cos it was the only part of the show they had a little solo. Mikey was happy Matthew didn’t take that moment from them. At least he felt Joey was still in the zone, playing and being present at the show and not lost in thoughts.

Joey was lost in thoughts, she was making her best to play a good show. But Matthew’s appearance had moved the ground underneath her feet. It had been the biggest and warmest surprised she had had in a long time.

“I’m not ok” set the mood for the rest of the concert. No one on that stage was ok. But Gerard was the one affected the most. He would sing, giving his back to the audience and looking at Joey as often as possible. He knew that was going to drive Matthew insane, but it also helped him stay focused.

His eyes locked in Joey’s face tried to read her. She looked… happier. And that hurt, ‘cos though Gerard knew she didn’t love him back, it didn’t help to know he was still in her heart. It was so obvious she was in love with him even a blind man would see it. Even Joey would try to keep her eyes shut or look away, she would always end up looking at Matthew, and Gerard could swear a smile lodged on her lips each time she saw the actor. It made him want to punch a wall, or Gubler’s face, whatever came first.

- "Give me all your fucking money!!"- Gerard yelled and ran to the drum set as Joey started playing “Vampire Money” with a huge smile- "Are you ready, Ray!!"

- "Yeah!"

- "How about you, Sugar?"

- "Yeah!!"

- "How about you, Frank?"

- "Fuck you, Gubler!"- he answered, and Joey turned to him in shock, though Iero looked at her with the cutest and most adorable smile on earth.

- "How about you, Mikey?"- Gee yelled

- "Fucking ready!"

- "I think I’m alright."

Gerard would always call Joey “Bug” when he addressed her in that part of the show. It was the only moment of the day he could call her by a nickname, and “Bug” was her official band nickname. But that day, Way wanted to make a difference. He wanted to make it sound a little more personal than it was in real life. “Sugar” fit perfectly, and in his mind, Gerard would always call her Sugar.

Somehow, being so angry brought a different energy to the band while playing. They were mad into it. Gerard sang as his life depended on it, while Mikey wouldn’t stop moving, and looking in the most threatening way possible at Gubler, every once in a while. Frank would jump and yell and shout, playing his guitar with the energy of a caffeinated hyper ten years old. Matthew never even saw them. He couldn’t care less. All there was for him on that stage was Joey behind the drum, looking at him with the corner of her eye every couple of minutes.

She didn’t know what to think or what to feel. She was in shock. What was Matthew doing there? What was he going to do next? What was he planning? Joey needed to run away from that stage and hide under a gigantic pillow ‘cos she had no idea how to face what was going on, though, at the same time, she was dying to run to Matthew and hug him. She just felt so good to know he had followed her to see her one more time. She felt special like he always made her feel.

Gerard started singing Cancer, and Joey turned to one side of the stage. Jamia looked at her, literally waving. She could perfectly read her lips, “What the fuck?” and the drummer could only shrug.

- "Hey"- Mikey appeared in front of the drummer and cut him a quick, shy smile- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah, just surprised."

- "You knew?"

- "I had no idea"- he nodded and looked around

- "Just a few more songs, then we can go hide and eat a pretty good dinner"- Joey smiled at him and watched him walk back to his side of the stage.

But Joey didn’t want to hide in her room and eat dinner with Mikey. Though she refused to admit it, all she wanted to do was to stand in front of Matthew and feel his eyes fondling her skin as he talked to her, just like he was doing at that moment, from a distance. She could feel his eyes running up and down her skin, though she didn’t look at him.

Jamia nearly jumped on Joey as soon as the girl reached backstage. The babies were miraculously sound asleep. No one got how, considering a huge rock concert had been happening that whole time a few meters away from them.

- "Oh my god, what the fuck??!"- Jamia made her best to whisper/scream to not wake the babies, but to make Joey wide open her eyes and frown.

- "I swear I have no idea!!"

- "He is adorable!!"

- "He is a cheater Jamia"- Frank interrupted his wife and took off his shirt, frowning- "And you shouldn’t be that excited. He is just trying to win her over."

- "He is being romantic, Frank"- Jamia corrected him and looked at Joey again- "What are you gonna do?"

- "I don’t know"

- "Call him!!"

Jamia was the closest to a best friend from high school Joey had ever had. Sure, back in the days, she had Tabatha, but her friend had her share of social life, and Joey was always shut down to any kind of social interaction. Now Jamia was talking about boys and telling her to call one. If that was high school talk, Joey had no idea what it was.

But before she could actually make a decision, her phone rang in her backpack, and J widened her eyes in excitement.

- "I swear to God, Jamia! you are just acting like this ‘cos you think he is hot!"- Frank turned around to see his wife, clearly annoyed, as Joey grabbed her phone and held it tight in her hands, not knowing what to do.

- "I’m just being honest with my friend. He is being cute and asking for a second chance. Coming unannounced to a concert with a cute banner is the sweetest thing I’ve seen a guy doing for love!"- Jamia stopped talking, and Joey’s cell stopped ringing. She looked at it feeling disappointed, until a second later, it started ringing again.

- "For Christ’s sake! Answer!"- Jamia sounded annoyed, and Joey did as told, not really thinking about her own actions. She just… deep down wanted to do it.

- "Hello?"

- "Hey..."- Matthew stood still in the middle of the arena, waiting for the kids to leave the place, he was anxious to know what Joey thought of what he had done, and though he had thought about waiting for a while to call her, he just couldn’t control himself.

- "What was that?"- Joey asked, blushing, as she locked herself in the bathroom.

- "That was me dying to see you, traveling to Oakland to be with you, even from a distance"

- "Why did you do that?"- Joey managed to ask, feeling she was nearly mumbling each word.

- "‘Cos I love you, ‘cos I miss you…"

Neither of them was able to say another word. Matthew was nervous and didn’t know how Joey managed the whole situation, though her voice sounded peaceful and calm. That should be a good sign.

- "You shouldn’t have…"- she whispered and felt her heart was about burst inside her chest

- "Do you wanna come out for a minute and talk?"- she wanted to, so badly, but it scared her to think what would happen if Frank, or even Gerard, got near Gubler.

- "Where are you?"

- "Still here"

- "You haven’t moved?"

- "Nop"- Matthew smiled and looked around- "I don’t know if they are planning to kick me out though"

- "Give me five minutes, I’ll change into something dry, and I’ll be right there."

Gerard Way was in hell. Literally burning alive as he watched Joey walking out of the bathroom in a fresh shirt and combed hair made a ponytail. She had even fixed her makeup.

- “God! She even got pretty for him!! What the fuck?! How can she be so eager to forgive him?!”- his eyes could burn holes in the wall as he did his best to look away from Joey.

- "Hey Bug, what are you gonna do?"- Mikey asked her as he stood next to her and held her hands. Gerard hated that too. He had managed to decode each movement from his brother around Joey like he was her couple. Lynz’s words had really fucked up with his brain. And if he was jealous of Mikey before, now it was turning into something worse.

- "I’m gonna go talk to him"

- "Are you sure that’s a good idea?"- Mikey looked worried, but Joey smiled at him and held his hand tighter.

- "Yeah, don’t worry, I’m gonna be ok."

- "If he does anything to you, I’m gonna break his fucking face"- Frank added from the other side of the room, already in a clean shirt and now holding one of the babies in his arms. For someone who sounded so threatening, he surely didn’t look the part.

- "It’s ok kids, let Joey take her own decisions, ok?"- Ray finally spoke up and sighed- "She knows we are here for her no matter what, but she has to do what her heart tells her to do."

- "Thank you, dad, but don’t think for a minute I’m gonna forgive him"

- "Even if you do, Bug. You will always count on me"- the guitarist walked to her and kissed her temple.

- "Best dad ever"- she whispered and opened the door.

Matthew felt his heart stop in his chest when he saw her walking over to him. He did the only thing that came to his mind and raised the banner he still held in his hands, so she could find him. It wasn’t hard to see him. There weren’t many people left at the arena, mostly just the crew setting everything to go.

- "Hey"- Joey said and waved as she walked to him and stood right in front of him. Just like she had imagined, she could feel the warmth of her eyes traveling down her face as he stared at her in pure bliss and love.

- "Hey"- he replied and smiled. He didn’t really want to talk. He didn’t know what to say. All he could think of was to kiss her and hold her tight.

- "What are you doing here, Matthew?"- she finally asked and crossed her arms on her chest to remind herself she couldn’t feel anything but anger against him and that she shouldn’t be so happy to see him. Or worse, she shouldn’t be showing him how happy she was to see him.

- "I just wanted you to know how much I love you"

- "By traveling to San Francisco to see a show?"

- "With a handmade banner"- he added and smiled.

- “That damn fucking adorable smile is gonna be the end of me,”- Joey sighed, thinking what to say next, making her best to stay calmed and not drooling over him.

- "That was a good touch."

- "Thanks, just like Lizzy, I would walk any distance just to be with you ‘cos you are my whole purpose."

Joey nodded, melting inside, as she made her best to stay cold and look indifferent. She didn’t know if it was working, but she wanted to believe so.

- "I’m not gonna forgive you just 'cos you showed up unannounced to a show"- that was all that came to her mind, it wasn’t the most intelligent answer, but it was all she had.

- "I wasn’t expecting you to forgive me today"- he simply replied and shrugged. There was a weird mix of security and happiness around his whole attitude Joey couldn’t wrap her mind around.

- "Good"- that was the whole answer she could give him, furrowing her brows. Matthew stared at her in silence for a second and took a step forward, closing the gap between them a little.

- "It was an amazing show, by the way"- he said and smiled. Joey’s knees shook as a response.

- "Thanks"- she whispered and looked down

- "How’s the little bean?"

- "Good… floating, I guess. I’ve felt pretty good today."

- "That’s great"- the two of them nodded at the same time and stayed quiet- "Remember to play the tracks I made for the bean."

- "Yeah, I will tonight."

- "They are just for the baby, so no peeking, ok?"- Matthew’s voice felt velvety as he talked close to Joey. She managed to raise her eyes from the ground, and Gubler swore his heart could be heard from any corner of that arena as it beat harder just to feel her looking at him.

- "I’ll put the headphones on the belly, so it will be the first secret you can share with your baby"- she smiled at the end of her answer, and Matthew held his breath.

- "That’s the cutest thing I could think of"- he mumbled, and the two of them stared in silence, sharing a moment that was a mix between love and angst.

Joey was still fighting to get away from him and stay mad at him. She had to play over and over again, like an old movie, the pictures she saw of Matthew cheating, just to keep herself from wrapping her arms around his neck.

- "Does she look in pain to you?!"- Jamia pushed Frank back as he kept trying to walk towards Joey and Matthew and drag her away from him.

- "She is gonna cry! He is gonna make her cry!"

- "Frank! This is not your war! Look at them and tell me they are not in love! If this was a cartoon, there would be hearts above their heads!"- Jamia was right, but Frank didn’t want to listen.

- "Hey!! Asshole!!"- Frank yelled, and Joey turned to him, frowning- "Stay the fuck away from her!!"

- "Oh shit!"- the words sneaked through her lips as Matthew looked at Frank and didn’t find anything better to do but to wave, infuriating Iero even more- "You know he wants to kill you, right?"

- "I am aware… the way they all looked at me made it pretty clear during the show, Gerard actually spit on my face."

The way Matthew said, it didn’t sound like it was a big deal. But it was, and Joey’s eyes were wide open as soon as she heard him.

- "He did what??!"- and she shouted- "Who the fuck does he think he is??!"

The young woman’s face was red in anger, and she quickly turned around and headed to the backstage area. But Matthew stopped her, grabbing her hand quickly.

- "Hey! Hey! Calm down, it’s ok! I don’t care!"

- "But I care!! This has nothing to do with him! He is not even my friend!! What the fuck does he think he is doing?!"

Unfortunately, the scene didn’t really look good from a distance, and Frank watching them, not getting what they were talking about, could only see his friend trying to get rid of Matthew and him not letting her go.

- "Take your hands off her!!"- Frank shouted and ran over, Jamia following close behind- "I said let go!!"- he pushed Matthew and put an arm in front of Joey, trying to keep her back.

- "What the fuck, dude?"- Joey shouted.

- "I don’t want him to hurt you, Bug!"

- "I’m not hurting her!!"- Matthew frowned, feeling insulted- "Why would I hurt the mother of my baby?!"

- "He ain’t hurting me!!"- Joey supported him, ‘cos Frank actually ignored Gubler’s words

- "Doesn’t look like he is being pretty nice either!!"

- "Frank! Stop it! Joey says nothing is going on!"- Jamia held Frank’s arm as Matthew tried to cool down the mood.

- "Hey! Nothing is going on"- Gubler used the calmest voice he could to talk to Iero- "I understand you wanna protect Joey from me ‘cos I was an asshole and fucked it up, but I am not gonna hurt her!! Ok?"

- "What fuck do you know! You broke her, and I am not gonna let you near her again!"- and just like the day Mikey had told him the same, Matthew’s heart tightened in his chest, listening to Frank yelling how badly he had hurt the woman he loved.

- "I can take care of myself!!"- Joey shouted- "So stop it! Now let me go kill that mother fucker!!"- the drummer turned around and started jogging to the dressing room. But Matthew followed her quickly and grabbed her hand again.

- "Please don’t! Joey, I don’t care! He can do whatever he wants to do. That ain’t gonna stop me!"

- "You don’t get it! I hate the guy! And the fact he thinks he can come and spit on your face like he is the fucking king of the world, or that he can avenge my sorrow, it’s wrong!!"- Joey pushed and let go of Matthew’s grip and continued her way until she opened the door and found Gerard, Mikey, and Ray playing with the twins.

- "Hey Bug"- Mikey turned and smiled, but Joey ignored him, ‘cos her eyes were locked on Gerard’s, staring at him with pure hate.

- "What the fuck is your problem, kúkalabbi (scumbag)?"- she spit every word with contempt- "You fucking think you can come and do whatever you want ‘cos you are the fucking lead singer of a band?"

Gerard frowned, though he had a hint of what might have happened.

- "I don’t care what the fuck came through your mind at the moment! You can’t spit on someone’s face! You can’t spit on Matthew’s face!"

Mikey wide opened his eyes as soon as he heard those words. Even for him, that was a little too much.

- "Joey, I think I can…"- Gerard tried to explain.

- "Haltu kjafti! (shut up!) No, you can’t!"- but Joey shut him up in a second- "This is my problem, my battle, and my fucking business!! You have no right in trying to avenge me! None!"

- "He fucking cheated on you, and you are mad at me?!"- he frowned, surprised, not getting what was going on.

- "Yes! I am mad at you! You are not even my friend, and you were doing shit I never asked you or wished for you to do!"

- "If I want to spit on his face, I can fucking do it!"- Gerard shouted back- "I hate the fucking bastard!"

- "So I can spit on yours then!!"- and Joey was about to do it when Matthew rushed and covered her mouth.

- "No! No! No!"- he held her tight, but sweetly- "Calm down! please! Calm down!"

- "What the fuck are you doing here?!"- and Gerard freaked out at the sight of Gubler- "Get the fuck out!"

- "I will be gone as soon as Joey asks me to leave"- Matthew simply answered and looked into Gerard’s eyes with the same hate yet calm he had the last time he saw Way at Mikey’s New Year’s eve party.

- "Who the fuck do you think you are?! Get out before I kick you out!"- at that point, Jamia and Frank were in the room as well. Jamia had an eye put on her babies, playing in their cart, while holding Frank back to keep him from getting into that fight.

- "Stop it!"- Joey managed to move from Matthew’s grip and looked into Gerad’s eyes in a fury- "I hate you!"

She didn’t yell, but her words were a dagger and cold as ice. The honesty was evident. Maybe now Gerard was going to understand he had to step back. She looked at him in the eyes for a second, then grabbed her things and stormed out, followed closely by Matthew.

- "What the fuck?"- Mikey asked to break the awkward silence that hung in the room after Joey had stormed out.

- "I spit on his face today, when I saw him there, looking at her with his stupid fucking puppy eyes, I just… lost it and spit on him- Gerard murmured, and his voice broke.

She hated him. She meant it. How was he going to win her back if she hated him? Jamia’s jaw fell as soon as she heard him. One thing was hating the guy, even trying to punch him, but spitting on someone’s face, that was… well, it seemed offensive and degrading. It was over the top.

- "Not that I wouldn’t think about doing something like it, but…"- Frank started, but Jamia’s eyes stopped him

- "That was out of line, Gerard"- Ray said with a calm, though stern tone of voice- "I told you all, the only thing you are gonna accomplish by acting like a bunch of possessive friends is to push her away. If you all call yourself her friends, you can’t fucking do this shit!"

It felt like Ray was scolding his kids. Mikey wanted to argue, but it was true, just like the day he had hit Matthew in Joey’s house, and she had freaked out and gotten mad at him.

- "I would do it again if I could"- Gerard whispered and sat down, fighting the urges of smoking a cigarette.

- "That’s why you ain’t her friend"- Ray added, and the look coming from Way’s eyes let him know he wasn’t happy with the reply- "Her words, not mine."

Matthew followed Joey on her way out of the arena. The cold air hit her skin and made her shiver as they stood foot outside the building.

- "Here"- he quickly took his hoodie off and gave it to her. She didn’t argue. She was too mad to argue about anything else. She was also too mad to talk about it. She just wanted to walk away from everything. Walk and ease her mind.

- "Excuse me, Joey?"- a girl walked over with a huge smile and forced her to take her eyes from the ground- "Can I have your autograph, please?"- Matthew wide opened his eyes in amazement. Joey quickly smiled and grabbed a sharpie from her bag. She signed the girl’s ticket to the show and smiled for a selfie with her.

- "Wow"- Matthew chuckled as the girl was gone- "That was…"

- "Weird, I know"

- "That was amazing! Kids are reacting to your work! Kids are looking at you and being excited about what you do! I am so fucking proud!"- he didn’t really stop himself to think. He just wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight.

- "Thanks"- she whispered and felt how her cheeks turned pink- It’s still pretty weird. It’s not something that happens all the time, but…

- "It’s impressive, Joey!"- Matthew nearly yelled- "I mean it, sometimes it shocks me how cooler and greater you can be!"

He sounded honest. He sounded proud. Joey’s heartbeat in joy with those words but didn’t say a word. She was thankful it was night, and the street lights weren’t illuminating his face properly, or he would be able to see how blushed and nervous she was.

- "Don’t overreact"- she murmured and kept on walking in silence. Matthew sighed and walked with her, stuffing his hands in his pocket to stop himself from trying to hold her hand.

- "Are you hungry?"- he asked after a while

- "No"

- "When was your last meal?"

- "An apple and a fun size Snicker before the show"

- "Mikey keeps controlling your candies?"

- "Yes… but Jamia is a horrible influence"- Joey chuckled at the thought of the two of them that afternoon acting like kids- "She gives me Oreos"

- "That’s drugs!"- Matthew acted shocked- You shouldn’t!

- "I know! But they are so good!"- the drummer smiled. Talking about anything was better than addressing the pink elephant in the room.

- "And how’s Jamia?"

- "Great, she is baby training me with the twins."

- "That’s very nice of her"

- "Yeah, and the babies are the sweetest…"- Joey made a pause and sighed- "She is the only rooting for you."

- "I knew I liked her for a reason."

- "Frank keeps saying it’s because she has the hots for you."

- "She doesn’t"

- "She totally does"- and the young woman laughed at her own words. Matthew only smiled widely to hear her happy for a moment- "I was actually considering selling Frank a picture of you in underwear for her birthday."

- "Double the price, and we go halfsies"- Gubler answered and chuckled- "I can even pose like a french model."

- "Deal"- there was a silence between them that lasted a few minutes. Gubler didn’t know what to say, and Joey didn’t know either.

- "Are you sure you are not hungry?"- he asked, just to ask anything

- "Do you think I overreacted back there?"- she just spit it. She was scared she had exaggerated the whole deal, and now the guys were going to fire her. Gerard could. He definitely should after how she acted with him. He was, after all, the closest thing she had to a boss. They were all the people she worked for, not with.

- "No, Joey, you didn’t… I mean… I really don’t care how he acts with me ‘cos I know he is a mother fucker asshole in love with you."

Joey’s heart froze at those words. She widened her eyes and looked at Matthew. She had almost forgotten he had always said that about Gerard. And he was absolutely right.

- "I know it’s true. I don’t care what he says, he is crystal clear, but that’s not the point."

- "The point is, I totally yelled at him in front of everybody, told him I hated him and stormed out the room like a brat after I tried to spit on his face… thank you for stopping me, by the way."

- "You are very welcome"- Matthew sighed and looked at his hand- "You totally spit on me, though"- he joked and cleaned his hand on Joey’s sleeve.

- "Gross!!"- she argued and chuckled- "This is your hoodie, by the way"

- "Damn it!"- the two of them smiled and just walked around.

- "Maybe I could eat some pizza"- Joey whispered and pointed to a little restaurant in the next corner

- "Pizza it is."

Mikey looked at his clock as he stared at the ceiling in his room. It was eleven-thirty, no news from Joey. He was worried but didn’t want to call her, ‘cos after hearing Ray talking, he didn’t want to push her away. He didn’t want to make her feel like he was mad at her. He was just worried. Worried as fuck. Feared to lose her, to see her sad again. Worried she might leave forever.

A knock on the door made him jump from his bed and run to the answer. It was Gerard. He looked like shit. Mikey left the door open and let him in, walking back to his bed.

- "How are you?"- his question was pretty stupid considering Gerard’s puffy eyes.

- "I fucked it up, right?"

- "Yeah… but in your defense…"- Mikey stayed quiet and thought about his words- "Well…"

- "I know, it wasn’t the way to deal with him"

- "It definitely wasn’t… but I don’t think it was so bad on its own. I think when you mix this with all the stupid shit you’ve done to Joey."

- "I haven’t done anything"

- "But keep harassing her and telling her that you love her"- Gerard groaned, annoyed, and laid back on the bed, hiding his face under his hands.

- "But I love her"

- "Dude! You are mad if you think this shit is gonna work. She clearly loves him. I’m starting to think she is gonna forgive him though I don’t want her to. And you are fucking married. There is no way you can get anything with her."

- "But maybe..."

- "She doesn’t love you, Gerard!"- Mikey shouted- "She doesn’t! You never stood a chance! And now she hates you! You can’t even be her friend. After today, you can’t even fucking try! You dig your own grave!"

Gerard heard his younger brother’s words. He wasn’t even sugarcoating it. Maybe that way, Gee would understand. Maybe he was doing it ‘cos he loved him. Mikey was being tuff ‘cos he was also pretty tired of his brother’s attitude. Gerard wasn’t being rational. He was acting like an animal, with no clear thoughts, just based on his instincts.

- "And what do I do now?"- Way whispered, and Mikey sighed.

- "Start with apologizing and pray she doesn’t want to leave the band"- the singer wide opened his eyes. He hadn’t thought about that, but it was a serious chance. Maybe he had pushed her too far.

- "Do you think she can quit?"

- "I don’t know what can happen. She isn’t the kind of girl who can take these kinds of things very easily"

- "If she can forgive Matthew, she can forgive me"- Gerard thought out loud

- "She loves him, she hates you, you do the math."

- "But we are in the middle of a tour. She can’t leave like that."

- "I think the same, but it all depends on her."

- "What does Ray think of this?"

- "I haven’t talked to him"- Gerard grabbed his phone and dialed Toro’s number.

Ray frowned as he stared at the brothers. Mikey was lying on the bed, looking at his phone, waiting for a call or a text from Joey. Gerard was walking in circles in the room, rambling about making Joey stay in the band.

- "If she wants to leave, she can leave"- Toro said when there was finally silence in the room. Both Ways looked at him, shocked, but Ray just smiled- "Hey! It’s her fucking decision! Not ours!"

- "Do you want her to leave?!"- Mikey nearly yelled

- "No way! I love her in the band! I’m just saying if she decides something, we should respect her."

- "You keep saying the same shit! And you are not considering the fact she could make a mistake"- Gerard frowned and kept walking in circles.

- "Come on! She ain’t a baby! And she ain’t yours to take care of! She can manage herself pretty well, so stop it! You just don’t want her to leave, I can understand that! but just stop giving her reasons to do it!"- Ray didn’t know if Mikey was aware of how fuck up his brother was. And Mikey didn’t know if Ray knew Gerard had given her plenty of reasons to leave already.

- "She is not even here yet!"- Gerard was thinking to himself, but his friends could listen to him clearly- "I bet she already forgave him."

- "Still not your problem!"- Ray added, frustrated.

- "I love her! How can’t it be my problem!"- it felt so good to take it out of his chest, but Ray’s shocked face made Gerard realize he had said too much- "I mean, she is my friend, and…"

- "Oh come on!"- Mikey argued, sick of listening to his brother talking about his feelings- "You are in love with her, and it’s sick! Deal with it!"

- "And it’s not like you are making it hard to guess anyway"- Toro added- "Frank has been arguing you have feelings for her for months now."

- "And you told her your “feelings,” and she rejected you!"- Mikey said, making Ray insanely curious. He needed to know the details of that story.

- "What I feel is not your fucking business"- Gerard said defensibly.

- "It is if you are making this kind of show! Your wife will be here in a few days, so get your shit together and be professional for once!"- Ray argued and sighed- "I’m going to bed now, please try to leave that woman make her own desitions and her own life, and just focus on being good friends"- he said and waved- "And don’t fuck it up!"

The night was cold. The wind played with Joey’s hair as she stood outside her hotel, biting her lips, holding her backpack tight, and making her best not to look Matthew in the eyes as he stood in front of her, smiling. It all gave her the first date vibes. Like they hadn’t been down that path already.

- "Well… I better go. I’ve got another flight tomorrow"- she whispered, and he nodded.

- "Yes, you have to rest, you just played a kickass show"- he answered and smiled- "And our little bean must be exhausted with all the walking we just did."

- "Little bean is floating carelessly inside my tummy, making me crave for a brownie"- Matthew chuckled and opened his backpack.

- "I just have cashews"- and he handed her a paper bag. She couldn’t help but smile at him as she grabbed it and opened it in a second.

- "Your addiction coming in handy"- he chuckled and nodded.

- "I’ve got more if you want"- Matthew started looking in his backpack, but Joey stopped him.

- " Thanks, but these are enough for today"- they stayed in silence for a second, Joey staring at the bag, Matthew staring at her, caressing her skin with his eyes, looking at her eyes, her lips, her hair- "Are you going back home tomorrow?"- she asked and still didn’t dare to look at him in the eyes.

- "Not yet"- he whispered and bit his lips, wishing she wouldn’t ask him if he was going to keep on following her. A part of him wanted to keep it a secret surprise for one more show, at least. And a huge part of her was too scared to ask if she was going to see him at another show.

- "Well… take care"- she said and finally managed to stare into his eyes. It was a mistake, considering how badly she wanted to kiss him and how much she had to argue to herself to avoid doing it. And he was looking at her in adoration, with such love she felt she could melt like an ice cube under the July sun.

- "Remember to play the bean my tracks"- he said, and she nodded.

- "I surely will"

- "I don’t want the bean to forget about me."

- "That won’t happen, I promise"- they just stared in silence for a moment, Matthew almost leaning over to kiss her- "Ok, bye"- Joey waved and turned around.

- "Wait!"- Gubler held her hand and stopped her. He walked to her and wrapped his arms around her. She stood still, not moving an inch, as his warmth filled her skin under her clothes, and his lips pressed a kiss on the top of her head- "Take care"

- "You too"- she mumbled, words having trouble to leave her lips ‘cos his closeness was killing her- "Wait, I still I’ve got your hoodie"- she tried to move away from him to take it out, but Matthew looked at her and shook his head.

- "Keep it… please"- Joey had left all of Matthew’s clothing back in her apartment, ‘cos she didn’t want to carry anything that reminded her of him for the next month. Having his hoodie was against her own rules. Then why did it make her feel so happy?

- "Thanks"- she moved apart from him and watched his smile for one last time- "Good night Matthew Gray"- her words were a whisper that made him shiver. He loved the way his name sounded like coming from her lips.

- "Good night María Josefina."

The actor waited until Joey was out of her sight to walk away from the hotel. He headed it to his hotel, a few blocks away. Ignoring the whole problem with Gerard, he thought things had been pretty good after all. He really didn’t care about Way at all. He knew he would give him a hard time. He just didn’t want him to make Joey feel bad. Joey was all that mattered to him. Mikey and Frank could threaten to hit him, even fulfill their threats. He didn’t care. He even agreed with them. He deserved to pay. But Gerard? No, he didn’t have any right to get into that fight. Gerard was an asshole who needed to stay away from Joey. He was the one Matthew hated.

- “I don’t think I had ever hated someone as bad as I hate that son of a bitch”- but that didn’t matter at the moment, now Matthew had a bigger issue to tackle: Which was going to be the phrase in the banner he had to make for tomorrow’s show?.

There was a knock on Mikey’s door, minutes after Gerard had left. He groaned and walked to answer, to find Joey standing at the other side, with a shy smile on her lips, almost a sheepish look.

- "Are you mad at me?"- she whispered right away, and he opened his arms to hug her.

- "Never."

- "You swear? ‘cos I yelled at your brother I hate him in front of the whole band and tried to spit on his face"

- "He was out of place, and he deserved it"- Mikey whispered and kissed the top of her head. His touch felt so different from Matthew’s a few minutes ago. It almost made Joey feel guilty that her friend had kissed her head after the man she loved had done the same. Almost like she was cheating.

- "And are you mad Matthew was there?"- Mikey let her go and invited her in.

- "Are you ok with him being there?"

Joey stayed in silence, walking into the room, standing next to the bed instead of sitting down. She looked down at her hands and didn’t say anything. Ray’s words were starting to make sense to Mikey as he looked at her and thought she was going to start drifting away from him if he continued being an ass.

- "Bug, it’s ok. I am not gonna get mad at you… if you love him, if you want to be with him, I’m still gonna be your friend."

- "I just don’t know what I want"- she whispered and scratched her eyes, feeling tired and sleepy

- "Anything you want to talk about, I am here, and I swear I’m gonna be the best friend in the world, and I am not gonna judge you, I am not gonna freak out, and more than anything, I am just going to worry about your happiness, ok?"- Joey pouted at her friend and wrapped her arms around him.

- "I just don’t want you to be mad at me ‘cos you are my best friend."

- "I will never get mad at you Bug, you are my little sister, and I love you. I just want to take care of you."

- "I don’t like it when people try to take care of me. I know what I’m doing."

- "I know…"

- "But I’m gonna let it slide with you ‘cos you are my brother"- she said and chuckled against his shirt. Mikey kissed the top of her head again, and she chuckled- "Just don’t push me."

- "I won’t…"- Mikey chuckled and moved to look at her- "We are cheesy, though"

- "So fucking cheesy!!"- Joey chuckled and sighed, relieved- "Ok, now that I took that from my chest, I need to go to bed. I am so fucking tired."

- "Did you eat?"

- "Yeah, Gubler bought dinner"

- "And he also gave you his clothes apparently"- Mikey pointed her hoodie and noticed she blushed.

- "Yeah… I’ll still steal yours, you know"- he smiled and messed with her hair.

- "I’m counting on it. I actually had them washed"

- "Thank you so fucking much!!"

Mikey felt a little better after Joey left. She was worried he was mad at her when he was concerned about the same. She didn’t say a word about leaving the band. That was even better. And she didn’t look sad after being with Matthew. That was enough to let him sleep calmly that night.

Joey was weary. She kicked off her shoes and laid on the bed, closing her eyes. Matthew’s smell surrounding her made her smile and sigh. Yes, he had been romantic. Yes, she had butterflies in her stomach. Yes, she loved him. None of that took away the fact he was a cheater, but he was trying to make amends. That was undeniable. How much was he willing to try? And how much was enough for her to forgive her? Neither of that she knew, but it didn’t matter at the moment. For a few seconds, Joey allowed herself to be in love.

Before she drifted off in her sleep, she remembered Matthew asked her to play the songs he had put on the iPod for their baby. She didn’t want to move from that bed, but she was way too curious to know what was in it.

- "Hey Bean, we are gonna tell your dad you are the only one who listened to it, but mom is gonna sneak a little bit, ok?"- the young woman whispered to her tummy, feeling like a dork.

- "I’m gonna take that silence as a yes"- she put on a headphone and placed another on her belly.

- "Hey Bean!"- Matthew’s voice caught her breath as soon as the first track started- "It’s me! Your dad! I wanted to record these for you so you can remember my voice while you are away with your mommy, ok? Sorry, it’s not the most soothing voice you’ll ever hear, but I love you, so I guess it’ll have to do the trick"- Joey chuckled and closed her eyes, refusing to take out that hoodie, listening to Matthew’s voice, and drowning in his scent.

- "So let’s start with a bedtime story, I’ve got the feeling you are doing a lot of sleeping in there, so I’ll read you one of my favorites growing up"- Joey’s heart melt with each word recorded on that iPod

- "I promise when you are out of your mommy, I’m gonna reread it, and you’ll tell me if you like it, ok? Now, let’s get to business:"

“I am Sam. I am Sam. Sam-I-Am.

That Sam-I-Am! That Sam-I-Am! I do not like that Sam-I-Am!

Do you like green eggs and ham?

I do not like them, Sam-I-Am.

I do not like green eggs and ham.

Would you like them here or there?

I would not like them here or there.

I would not like them anywhere.

I do not like green eggs and ham.

I do not like them, Sam-I-Am.”

Slowly and softly, Matthew’s voice relaxed Joey like a sweet lullaby, and she fluttered her eyes until she fell asleep safe and sound as his reading continued reading Dr. Seuss's stories to their baby.

Taglist: @all-tings-diego @worryd0ll

Do you wanna talk about this story, or be added to the taglist? send me a message here

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

General Hux x Female Reader/Kylo Ren x Female Reader

A/N: I literally kicked this out this morning, and I am posting it now before I change my mind. Bring in the Knights… I clearly woke up this morning and chose violence.

Warnings: alcohol, poison, blood, torture, Hux and Kylo finally work together, minor character death. Not a pretty chapter at all.

Word Count: 3530

Read Chapter 12 here on AO3.

Start from Chapter 1 here.

The ride in Kylo’s Command Shuttle was quiet, just the sound of the pilots communicating, a few troopers lounged in the seats behind you and you could feel their gazes upon the back of your neck. Your brain was fried, only a few hours ago you had woken up fully dressed and alone in Kylo’s bed. He hadn’t spoken much, letting you eat breakfast in comfortable silence while he scrolled through a datapad before announcing his business was concluded here and he was withdrawing the fleet from Canto. The unasked question of whether you were coming hung in the air and you chose to ignore it, getting up and dutifully following him to the ship. You were sad to see the beautiful place fall away, maybe once the war was over you could come back. Visions of returning with your arm linked with Hux’s made you smile a little but when they flickered out of existence and were replaced with your arm in Kylo's, your composure slipped.

The shuttle alighted smoothly in the main hangar, the refiltered air filling your lungs and you already missed the freshness of being planet side. It didn’t surprise you that Mitaka was ready and waiting to bring Kylo up to date on the latest, leaving you with a single trooper to escort you to Hux’s quarters.

The ever unchanging silence curled around you, filtering into the cracks of your damaged soul and expanding. Making an ache start in your chest, one you couldn’t suppress until your soft cries pierced the quiet. You had thought long and hard over Hux’s abrupt change in behaviour, bringing you to the conclusion that he was hating himself for opening up to you. For allowing so much of himself to be exposed in one go, so now he was clamming up and pushing you away. It didn’t hurt any less but you supposed it would be like this, one step forward and two steps back. You expelled a long breath thinking it was a dance you were committed to, no matter the outcome.

You had a quick shower, putting on a nightgown and robe now you were once again governed by the day cycle of the ship. You didn’t expect to see Hux tonight so you opened a bottle from the restocked cooler, pouring the clear liquid over a couple of rocks of ice before settling on the couch and picking up the datapad to read the manuscript you were invested in but you couldn’t focus. The words blurred into one on the screen and the alcohol made everything hazy. Your heart jolted when the door opened and you heaved yourself off the couch in surprise, clutching the arm to hold you up as the room spun slightly.

“Armitage,” you mumbled in surprise. “I didn’t…I wasn’t expecting to see you….today—night?” You frowned at your own nonsense. This wasn’t how you wanted him to see you, not now, not when he possibly needed you.

“In all honesty I wasn’t sure you’d be here.” He replied. He carefully put his hat on the table, slowly followed by his gloves and then his coat which he hung on the back of the chair. You watched him approach the cooler, his slender fingers wrapping around the bottle and looking at the label.

“Did you finish work? Are you staying?” Your tongue felt thick, your body was at a fever pitch and you stumbled when you tried to head in his direction.

“Armitage…” you lifted your hand trying to focus on it but your vision blurred. “I can’t…see.”

“What?” His response was whip sharp and you winced against the sudden pounding on your head. You cried out as your legs gave way, collapsing to the floor in a heap. Your vision swam, your breaths were laboured and a tingling sensation was racing over your body. In the dark corner of your mind you realise this wasn’t just too much to drink. You heard him call your name but you were sinking, not able to hold onto him, everything was melting before you. Disappearing into a cloud of black smoke and you couldn’t find your way out.

Hux watched Ren pace up and down the small area outside your private room. Actually it was a medical room set aside for the Supreme Leader, he’d had you directed there when he saw the urgent message for a medic to Hux’s quarters. Every footfall that sounded from the large man set Hux’s teeth on edge but he bit back a rebuke. The force user hadn’t lashed out yet and Hux wasn’t going to give him an excuse. Hux also wondered why he was here, the fleet was chasing down a lead on a new possible Resistance base so surely his attention would be better elsewhere than on Hux’s wife. Both men looked up as the door opened and a Dr came out, his face was grave and Hux felt the blood freeze in his veins.

“Supreme Leader, General. She has been poisoned.” Hux had already deduced that fact and he felt a flash of annoyance that this was being repeated back to him.

“What else?” He demanded abruptly.

“I’ve had to put her in a medically induced coma so her body can recover, it seems there is some damage to her internal organs and…” he swallowed nervously as the two most dangerous men stood glaring at him. “It seems this is one poison we haven’t encountered before.”

“Just put her in a bacta tank,” snipped Hux, not understanding why they were wasting time telling him this.

“They can’t,” rumbled Kylo. Hux frowned, hating the extra insight he had.

“Why not?” He could feel his temper slipping, his teeth clenching together as he glared at the doctor wanting him to answer and not Ren.

“The poison seems to have some bacta resistant qualities….” The floor rolled under Hux and he swayed slightly, if they couldn’t find an antidote the poison would keep eating away at you until your body gave up. “I seem to have slowed the effects, by keeping her body cold and slowing the blood flow but we need an antidote within the week, she won’t be able to stay in this state for long without accruing serious deficits.” Hux wanted to double over, he wanted to accept the pain that erupted from his centre and scream at the floor, but he didn’t. He wanted to barge past the doctor and hold you in his arms, he wanted to rip through his ship and shoot his own troops in the face if they so much as looked at him wrong. It wasn’t until Kylo removed his hand from Hux’s elbow that he realised the Supreme Leader had been holding him upright.

Hux’s feet finally became unstuck from the floor and he moved into the room, his heart in his mouth as he looked at you on the bed. The chill blankets glowed a soft blue colour, a tube was down your throat helping you breathe. Sensors were placed across your forehead and he felt the rage bubble up inside him, who would poison you? Why would someone do this? He also wanted to yell at you for drinking out of a bottle that clearly wasn’t First Order approved, which meant someone planted it and they were still in the ship.

“I’ve already got the Knights tearing through the ship.” Hux resisted rolling his eyes and chose to frown instead.

“Is that wise Ren?”

“Do you want them found?” He snarled, stepping up to the other side of your bed. Hux studied the feral look in his eye, the tenseness of his posture and the hatred that flared in his expression, until his gaze slid to you. His hand rose as though to touch you but thought better of it, curling his leather covered hand into a fist. His expression softened for a moment before looking back up at Hux. “I will let you know if we find anything.”

“Shouldn’t I be there?” Hux asked, not happy to be pushed out of such an investigation of his own personnel.

“Maybe you should stay here and be with your wife,” mumurmed Kylo.

“She’s in a coma. She doesn’t even know what day of the week it is, let alone if I’m here or not.” He couldn’t sit here staring at you, seeing how helpless and weak you were. He wouldn’t be able to sit and watch you waste away before him without doing something to try and stop this.

“Fine.” Hux moved to follow the Supreme Leader out of the room, his fingers flexing and a little ripple of anticipation ran down his spine. It had been a while since he got his hands dirty.

He couldn’t explain it, the way this trooper’s screams fed something twisted inside him. He leaned heavily against the wall of the interrogation room, sweet collected on his upper lip and he swept his damp hair off his brow in a fluid motion. Ren had shed his tunic, his corded muscles bulged, his pale skin flushed as he stretched an arm towards the man kneeling on the floor. Fresh screams erupted from the bound trooper and Hux momentarily closed his eyes as if basking in the sound.

A part of him recoiled at the unwavering way Ren ploughed through people's minds, he showed no mercy and Hux felt a stab of jealousy that Ren himself was clearly going to all this trouble for you. Hux had been told you had breakfast on a private balcony with the Supreme Leader, leaving in a hurry and then you were seen heading to his private room on Canto Bight. Hux wasn’t an idiot, but he had hoped you wouldn’t have stabbed him in the back so early on.

“Ren, stop.” Hux managed to say as the trooper’s heart rate spiked off the charts and the man fell with a clatter to the floor. “Anything?” Hux winced, his voice sounded loud against his tender ears. Kylo rolled his shoulders, sweeping his dripping hair away from his face before shaking his head once. It had been two days, two full days and night of torture, screams and questions all coming up with nothing. Hux gripped the datapad in his hands, his arms trembling as he fought the urge to throw it against the wall, screaming his hatred and frustration out. He’s always looked down his nose at Ren’s temper tantrums but now it was all he wanted to do, to break something or someone, to exercise his absolute fury out until he felt exhausted. He hadn’t slept for two days, he was already at his stimulant limit but he still considered another shot.

“You should rest.”

“No, I'm fine.”

“It wasn’t a request, General. You’re no good to her dead.” Hux contemplated ignoring the order altogether but he knew he needed a rest. He felt stretched, his breaking point was within reach and what good would he be if he was in a bed in the medbay as well? He wordlessly handed over the datapad as medics came to retrieve the trooper.

“You’ll keep going?” He asked brusquely.

“I will see you in 10 hours,” stated Kylo but Hux paused, his coat resting on his forearm.

“Five,” he countered.

“Eight,” Ren shot back.

“Six.”

“Done.” Hux nodded before leaving the room. He had six hours to pass out and then he was going to find out who did this to you.

Kylo waited until Hux had gone before slipping from the room and heading to his own quarters. Ap’lek stood outside the door in full armour, his executioner’s ax grasped in his hand as he stood guard. They didn’t exchange words, they didn’t need to. The door opened and he came face to face with Vicrul, his scythe blade resting on his shoulder ready to swing at a moment's notice. He stepped to the side to let Kylo in, revealing the scene in his quarters. There was a dark haired man kneeling on the floor surrounded by the rest of the Knights, Cardo had his arm cannon pressed into the back of his neck, Ushar had the kinetic charged end of his club in position ready to stun the man if necessary and Trudgen sat before the prisoner running a whetstone along the blade of his vibrocleaver. The sound rang out loud and clear in the silent quarters as he swept the stone with long strikes against the massive blade. Kuruk appeared from the bedroom, performing his checks and making sure the quarters were secure.

Kylo made his way to crouch before the shaking man, slowly running his eyes over the First Order uniform and seeing it was ill fitting.

Has he said anything? Kylo looked up at Trudgeon, the only Knight without his mask on.

No. Came the swift reply followed by another singing note from the blade.

“You won’t get anything out of me.” Kylo turned his attention back to the prisoner.

“We just did,” he stated softly. The prisoner looked up and Kylo could see the man had already surrendered to the idea that he was going to die here.

“The Resistance is not dead. Our spark shines bright in the Galaxy.” Kylo looked at him, just staring as he tried to decide how he was going to play this.

“Vicrul.” The Knight stepped forward and Trudgeon moved out of the way, tossing his chair away with a loud noise. Kylo rose and Vicrul took his place before the prisoner, removing his pastillion ore helmet and placing it carefully on the floor before locking gazes with the prisoner.

Sweat began to bead on the man’s brow, his face quivering the longer Vicrul looked into his eyes. Kylo could feel it, the ripples in the force that his Knight created, the darkness manifested and clung the Resistance fighter, gathering around his head. The other Knights all watched, their own vibrations reacting to their brothers and only the prisoners laboured breathing sounded in the room. It didn’t take long before a scream ripped the air and he began to thrash in the Knights grip, lost in nightmarish visions that only he could see. Kylo let Vicrul have his fun, showing the prisoner visions that would make a Wookiee cower, his screams increasing in pitch. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he began to convulse in the firm grips of Cardo and Ushar.

“Enough,” said Kylo softly. Vicrul broke eye contact and picked up his helmet, the darkness retreated and the prisoner blinked rapidly as though the light was too much for him, his entire body heaved and he looked wildly around.

“What are you going to do to me?” He cried, his voice full of panic.

“It depends what you tell us,” Kylo gestured to the armoured men around him. “My Knights are bored so I suggest you cooperate.”

“Wait wait! Can’t you just search my mind? Take the information for yourself?” Kylo turned away as the Knights shuffled forward, closing ranks around the prisoner.

“Where is the fun in that Major Wexley?” The man was screaming before Kylo had even made it past his door, Kuruk followed and silently traded places with an eager Ap’lek. “Let me know if he says anything. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.” Kuruk nodded and silently watched his master walk away. They knew where he was going.

Kylo sat at your bedside, his large hand covered yours and echoes of what was happening in his quarters shattered the quiet of his mind. He could feel the force pulsing with the darkside, spreading its touch through the ship. It manifested in different ways, someone pulling a risky move in the training ground and hitting their opponent harder than necessary, an officer shouting at his staff for a simple misdemeanour that should have been dismissed. A fight breaking out in the cantina between two troopers who didn’t like each other, a moment of blind frustration from a medic who threw what he was holding, letting it shatter against the wall.

The Knights had found Wexley trying to slip into a TIE and escape, Kylo hadn’t told Hux. The General was on a cliff edge as it was, Kylo didn’t need him on a murdering spree before all information was dragged from the Resistance pilot, so Kylo let his Knights have a reward. Their energy was chaotic when unused, it needed a release every now and again.

He moved his hand along your cold arm, hating how lifeless you looked, you were still alive. He could feel your light but the warmth was weak and fading. Kylo hoped this pilot had some answers because he didn’t know what he’d do if they didn’t find the antidote in time. He cast a quick eye over the machines noting how your numbers remained steady even though you ebbed ever so slowly away.

He still won’t talk. Kylo sighed, feeling the disappointment in Vicrul’s thoughts.

I’m on my way. He stood, bending over you and peering at your still face for a moment before sweeping abruptly from the room.

The first thing he could feel was the pilot's pain, it radiated out in all directions and Kylo clenched his fists against it. The next thing he noticed was the smell, blood, sharp and tangy against his nose. The floor was slick with the red stains, blood spatter littered the walls in spectacular patterns and Kylo came to a stop looking down at the pitiful man as he bled out onto the floor, his skin was pale, drained of colour because it now painted Kylo’s quarters. He crouched down beside Wexley who was laying on his side, the First Order uniform ripped and tattered, ruined beyond repair much like Wexley himself.

“Are you going to talk?” Asked Kylo softly.

“No.” He admired the man's tenacity, but his time was up. The screams that spewed from him had a hoarse quality, like his throat was too tired, his lungs had no air but Kylo didn’t care as he raced through the man's memories. He had planted the bottle, but it wasn’t meant for you, it was meant for General Hux. The antidote was a plant out in the Teth system. One of the few wild systems left in the Galaxy and travelling there and back again in the time frame left would be a risk, but it was one Kylo was ready to take. He withdrew from the dying Major, his memories growing dark as his body gave up.

“Ready the Night Buzzard,” he demanded. Kylo stood, hearing the last breath from Wexley before moving, his Knights following obediently behind as he began to make his way to the hangar.

Hux woke to the sound of his alarm, swiping it off the screen of the datapad feeling unusually refreshed. He had slept in his uniform so he could get up and find Ren straight away. He walked through the corridors of the Finalizer pleased to see his staff avoiding his gaze as he marched along, this investigation was reminding everyone who was actually in charge here and bringing out Hux’s ruthless side for everyone to see served as another reminder that he wasn’t to be messed with.

He stepped into the interrogation room, taking in the emptiness before turning smartly and heading to the bridge. His lips bruised together in irritation, if Ren had found something and left Hux out he was going to explode. As soon as he entered the bridge Mitaka was at his side.

“Sir, the Supreme Leader gave strict instructions not to wake you.”

“What’s happened?” Snapped Hux.

“The Supreme Leader and the Knights have left for the Teth system.” Mitaka told him.

“Left? What do you mean left?”

“They have gone to retrieve the plant needed for the antidote for….for…..” For you. Hux didn’t have time to pander to his Lieutenant and his sad emotions right now. He tutted, since when did you become such a beloved member to certain people who weren’t him? “He also said to tell you there is a mess in his quarters, but he wanted you to see it before it was cleared up.” Hux left without a word, what an earth could Ren want him to see?

Whatever Hux had imagined on the way to the Supreme Leaders quarters did not prepare him for the sight that met his eyes. Did he really need to see this? Hux was no stranger to torture and death, blood didn’t bother him, violence was his way of life but seeing this gruesome scene did indeed turn his stomach slightly. He also recognised the Knights' handy work.

“Do we know who this is?” He asked a Major who looked rather grey coloured.

“Apparently this is…was Temmin Wexley, Resistance pilot and the person who planted the bottle in your quarters, sir.”

“Clear up this disgusting mess. It has lingered on my ship long enough.” He snapped, displeasure and disgust making his expression contort. He left, stepping the familiar path to the medbay realising now all he had to do was wait. And he hated waiting.

[sailtoafarawayland]

The Things We Don’t Say - Ch 2 (modern AU - actors)

Summary:  No one is perfect, and sometimes, two people are just so perfectly flawed that those pieces fit together and make something beautiful. When sparks fly between two leads of a new hit show, is there a happy ending in sight, or will their own mistakes overshadow any chance they had at something worth fighting for.

Rated: Explicit    

Warnings:   This is a joyfully Captain Swan story, but there are a few warnings. It does start with Emma/Neal and Killian/Milah. I don't write non-CS, so there won't be any sexual anything happening 'on screen', so to speak, between those couples, but I won't guarantee there may not be a mention. This story contains numerous episodes of cheating. If any of these things make you squick or are not your bag, carry on.

AO3 - FF

- or read below the cut -

As always, let me know if you’d like to be tagged (or removed) for further updates.

Tag list: @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @teamhook @tiganasummertree @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @kmomof4​ 

Chapter Two

Killian sighed into the hard press of his fingers against his tired eyes, listening to the soft hum of the elevator as it climbed to his floor. He’d look like a drunken raccoon by the time he got into the apartment, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. An early morning shoot that had dragged late into the day left him feeling more dead than alive, and he hadn’t bothered with his normal clean up on set. The time saved getting back to his bed was the bright side—the downside was a few fans had recognized him when he jumped out of his uber, his trademark eyeliner and messily styled hair a giveaway. He’d managed a few weak smiles as they snapped pictures and hurried on his way, taking a few strange turns and slipping a spare beanie he kept in his pocket over his head. That, a popped collar, and hunched shoulders normally did the trick. Being famous certainly had its perks, but crazed fans knowing where he lived certainly wasn’t one of them.

It was usually simpler to drive to set, but lately he’d been to worn out to trust himself behind the wheel. The past two weeks had been a nightmare of last minute reshoots and publicity, and he couldn’t wait for it to all be over.

The elevator doors slid open, Killian staring at them for a moment before he realized her was staring at the familiar artwork that spanned the hall outside his condo. Desperately trying to blink away sleep, he trudged down the hall, leaning his forehead against the cool metal door for a brief second before unlocking it and heading in.  

God, he hoped Milah was content to have a quiet night in.

Everything was blessedly dark and quiet when he stepped into the entryway, shrugging his leather jacket off and hanging it on the waiting hook, his boots next as he eased them off his aching feet and lined them up neatly below the jacket. He rolled his neck and stretched, wrinkling his nose as he realized a fifteen-hour day filming had left him less than fresh.

A hot shower and bed—that was the plan. With any luck, and the darkened apartment seemed to be on his side, Milah would already be stretched beneath the covers and he could slip in behind her and fall asleep pressed to her warmth. It would be the perfect start to a weekend otherwise free of engagements and obligations.

“Milah?” he whispered, not wanting to startle her if she was relaxing in the living area.

There was always the chance she’d gone out with friends earlier and wouldn’t be home until late. It was a Friday, after all.

His back ached as he stretched his shirt over his head, balling it up and launching it toward the hamper as he walked into the bedroom. A glaring light greeted him from around the corner and he realized that Milah was indeed home, but not where he’d hoped. It looked as if a tornado had blown through the walk-in closet—every pair of heels she owned were tossed onto the floor and the chaise was covered with a haphazard pile of glittering dresses. Milah was standing in front of the mirrored wall, a sequined, black strapless number pulled over her body but left unzipped as she adjusted a pair of large earrings, her brow furrowed.

“Oh, thank god your home,” she huffed, flashing an annoyed smile over her shoulder as she slid her second earring in. “This zipper is absolutely impossible.”

He smiled and stepped into the closet, taking care to avoid the dresses that had sloughed onto the carpeting.

“I’m happy to help, darling,” he assured, catching the nearly invisibly zipper and easing it up her back. There were certainly nights he would have coaxed her into agreement that off was the far better option, but tonight he was more than happy to get her dressed and out the door if that was what she so desired. “Headed anywhere special?”

“It’s that opening of the new club—you know, the one with the glass ceiling that everyone has been going on about. I mentioned it the other night—good lord, Killian, you positively reek.”

Killian flashed a tired smile in the mirror, but her frown only deepened.

“Honestly, Killian, you can’t go out like that. You’ll need to have a quick shower.”

Killian’s brows echoed her own displeasure as he realized what she was implying.

“Did you want my company, as well?”

“Do you even listen when I speak? Sometimes I wonder. I told you two nights ago that Lara and William were expecting us. They’ve barely seen you.”

Killian couldn’t remember a Lara, but he seemed to recall a bright, friendly man with reddish-blond hair who may have been a William. No matter who they were, he had no interest in spending the evening with them, and even less in spending the evening on his feet in an obnoxious club.

“It’s been a long day, Milah—every day for the past couple weeks has, and I’m exhausted—”

“You’re absolutely right, Killian, it has been a long day, a long few weeks, and I’m sorry that I thought I might get to spend some time with you at the end of all of it. How foolish of me,” she snapped, and Killian felt the words like a slap to his face.

“No, you’re right. It’s—I’m sorry. I’ll have a quick rinse and get dressed.”

Milah beamed at him, adjusting her hair and checking that everything was just as she wanted it to be in the mirror. Killian pressed a soft kiss to her bare shoulder, the warmth of her smile washing away a bit of his exhaustion.

He wanted her to be happy, and perhaps the past few weeks had been more difficult for her than she let on.

“It will be a lovely night, I promise,” she said, shoving him gently toward the bathroom as she turned to reappraise the pile of heels.

* * * 

Despite Milah’s initial enthusiasm that he’d agreed to join her and two people he most definitely did not remember—apparently William had brown hair and was quite pretentious—it was not a lovely night. The hot shower and the warmth of Milah’s arm in his had been enough to fool him into think it might be the tiniest bit enjoyable—after all, it had been some time since he’d been to a club—but he’d been wrong, very wrong.

Everything from the moving lights to the music to the stench of hot bodies pressed against one another was giving him a pounding headache, and he slid down further into his chair, nursing a rum and casting about for Milah, wherever she’d gone. He’d wanted to give her a nice evening at his side, but he hadn’t been able to find it in him to join her on the dance floor—probably because his feet had blisters from filming in his costume boots all day—and she hadn’t been able to find it in her to forgive him.

He’d been able to keep track of her at first, but soon she was lost in the crush of bodies and he was lost in his rum—at least it helped dull the sounds a bit.

He didn’t know if it was the insane schedule he was booked to finish shooting for his latest movie, or just the lack of free time, but nothing felt quite right lately, and he was worried a change was needed. Milah was clearly unhappy with his schedule, with how much distance it put between them. He found himself wondering if perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad time to step back a bit, to get away and really dedicate some time to the two of them.

It was a question he’d come back to more than once in the past few months, and as much as he wanted to feel that doing so was the right answer, his gut kept telling him it wasn’t.

He loved her, he certainly didn’t want her to be miserable, but the thought of missing out on opportunities at the high point of his career, it did worry him. Liam had worked more than any person should have to help put him through school, and he’d only ever wanted happiness for his little brother. Liam was a big enough man to know that for Killian that meant acting, even if it was a hard path. If Killian were to step back now, would that be doing justice to his brother’s sacrifice. What if he started turning down offers and never bounced back from it?

He searched the dance floor once more, but there was no sign of his Milah. Knowing she was probably hurt enough to ignore him for the rest of the night, he whipped out his phone and started scrolling through emails, most of them simply things his manager had already spoken with him about over the phone. It wasn’t until he scrolled farther back, nearly hypnotized by the small boxes flying along the screen, that a flagged email came to his attention and he stopped. The details were familiar, and he only just remembered the conversation he’d had with Cora.

It had been an offer for the lead role in a new series, but he’d turned it down due to the filming location. He’d been worried about having to uproot Milah, but scanning through everything once more, he found himself second-guessing his first decision. Perhaps it would be the answer they needed, and the more he thought about it, the more it appealed to him personally.

Maine was certainly quiet and would allow for more quality time together—and the pay was bloody obscene, which never hurt. According to Cora, the role had been written specifically for him. He wondered how the showrunners had taken it when he declined.

His finger hovered over reply.

He should probably discuss it will Milah first, but then thoughts of Liam tugged at his tired mind and he reread the arc for the lead role, each sentence making him more inclined to see if taking it on was still a possibility.

He’d earned his name and place in Hollywood by becoming the face of playboys and scoundrels, all of his characters well-known for their rakish appeal, but to be honest, he was starting to become concerned he may not be offered anything more diverse if he didn’t branch out soon. This role—this would be something different, something Liam would be proud of. The series treaded water somewhere between a fantasy show and a piece that examined the very fabric of what is real, the main character a man who suffered great personal tragedy and loss only to have his independence and health rocked.

The more Killian looked at it, the more he knew it was for him, the words swimming with possibility...or rum. He didn't know what about his previous roles had drawn the showrunners to him of all their choices, but for the first time in a while, he really wanted something.

He really wanted this.

A feeling of certainty settled in his gut and he shot off a reply to Cora.

K: I want this, do what you need to do.

The message sent and he almost expected to look up and see Milah hovering over him, a flushed smile on her cheeks from dancing, her hair falling in tendrils around her face, but his table is still empty and the dance floor is still a writhing mass of faceless people.

Raising his glass in a lonely toast, he took another drag of rum and closed his eyes.

He wants to dream that she’ll be as happy as he is, that’s all he wants for her.

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter VI

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

I’m glad to deliver the sixth chapter of my story! I want to thank you, from the bottom of my soul, for your support. It really means a lot to me!<3

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter IV )(Chapter V) (Chapter VII coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 449

TW: None!

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The buzzing sound of the alarm loaded Kurapika's ears.

This time it was not a "Tic-Tic" sound. It was an unfamiliar tune. Starting with sonsy drums and trumpets. The music was in crescendo with a chorus that sang "love, love, love" until a male voice sang 

"There's nothing you can do that can't be done~"

"Nothing you can sing that can't be sung~"

A cheesy way to start the day. It was different from the rest of his mornings. It felt warm. Only it wasn't the kind of heat he habitually woke up wilting from a nightmare. It was the feeling of homely warmth and tenderness. Remembering the comparable emotion you have when you are unwell and your mother hugs you.

He sensed something twirl beside him, he began to open his somnolent eyes. That fatigue was not the usual either. Instead of a burning and stinging in the eyes, he felt a comfort he didn't want to abandon. The movements continued until they extended to the covers that surrounded him, to ultimately calm and recover a state of calm. The music ceased as well. It wasn't his pillow, it wasn't his bed, and the chamber was alien to him. It surprisingly smelled distinct. The first item he saw when his sight adjusted were frizzy (hair color) (curls/waves/strands). (Y/n) was standing on the left side of the bed. They had a bed-hair. He certainly wanted to see that goofy bed-hair very more often.

"Shhh shhh, sorry I disturbed you."-their voice was crispy.-"Go back to rest, I'll return a touch later to nudge you." 

Kurapika allowed himself to a defeat and laid his head back on the pillow. Some seasons had passed since he had a restful night. He was able to hear the sound of an opening door for it to immediately close, followed by the flow of water. The door was opened again, and an extra further door gave a short crack noise. Kurapika doesn't quite recall how long it lasted, but (Y/n) returned to the room. They placed a cup of hot black coffee on the night table.

"What time is it?"-Kurapika groaned and tried to rejoin.

"Good morning sunshine, and it's 4:23 am"-they answered, sitting in bed with another cup in their hands.

"Why are you doing so early? Not even I arise that betimes."- He stirred early, he had to. But this seemed absurd.

"I must be in the psychiatric ward. I have patients who rely on me. I'll be exiting the home in a moment."-He was shocked at how composed they were, considering the events of the night before. They continued their routine impassively as if nothing disagreeable had occurred.-"Would you desire for me to drive you to the Nostrade mansion?"-(Y/n) suggested to him with a smile. He almost forgot he had to work that day.

"I will get prepared for the moment,"-He sat, resting his back on the bed frame, reaching for the coffee.”And your proposition would be convenient." The caffeine intake helped him shake the drowsiness off his mind.

"I would be amazed to propose to you something to eat, but I only possess chocolate robots at the moment. You don't exactly appear the type of person to have that for breakfast."-they provided an apologetic smile, half-joking half-ashamed.

"Do you ever eat something besides sweets?"-It was agreeable to joke a little in the mornings.

"I ate the flowers you gave me."-(Y/n) answered with the most solemn voice they could deliver. The first time in his 19 years of life that Kurapika heard something of that bearing.

"You ate them?"-Although it was evident that it was not a joke, it seemed so outlandish that he did not see another explanation.

"Yes! Peonies and carnations are edible! Although they taste sweet and fruity. So it might count as sweet." they affirmed smiling.

 Sometimes the sincerity of that person perplexed him. They could say the most unthinkable things in the most sudden moments. Above all, with an enormous naturalness. He even wondered if they were even conscious that they did.

The handy part of sleeping dressed was that getting ready was rather quick. Once he put on the black jacket, the wrinkles on his shirt were hardly noticeable. Though, as much as he would love to stay and talk to (Y/n) all morning, the depart ended up arriving. What if the two of them could skip work with an excuse? It was possible. However, both were stiff with their obligations, so it was not feasible. Kurapika was going to show up pretty early for work, he didn't care if it meant to spend more time with (Y/n).

During most of the voyage, he stared at (Y/n) driving and chatting. 

"You always use the same earrings." He remarked, staring at the drop-shaped pearl pendants dangling from their ears. They turned to see him and agreed.

"You also wear your red earrings every day."-they were getting close to the Nostrade's residency. 

"You're not wrong."-Between spending the day with Neon or with (Y/n), he preferred the latest option by a lot.

"I rarely am, dear. I wish you a good day!"-Kurapika no longer remembered the last time someone wished him a good day in the morning.

 ~

8 pm, another day had passed. If Neon's attitude hadn't improved since the beginning of her therapy, Kurapika had no idea if he would still put up with her whims. Whoever worked for her without attempting against her life was a saint. However, his crusade hadn't ended yet, remote from that. The advantage of that specific job brought was being able to maintain close contact with the flesh trafficking industry. Kurapika was finally exiting through the vast gate of the Nostrade mansion. Being able to get to work on his vendetta again.

"Kurapika!"- a voice he knew fully squealed. He turned in the direction it came from, to make sure it wasn't a dream. He had his suspicions about working for Neon for so long that it gave him some variety of brain damage. Luckily not. It was (Y/n), running towards his direction, nearly stumbling in the middle of the path. If they were coming to him like that, something serious must have happened.

"(Y/n)! What are you doing here?! What happened?! Aren't you supposed to be on guard? Why didn't you call me? "-the blonde interrogated packed with worry.

They were panting laboriously, as they inclined on their legs to catch their breath and raised their index asking for a moment. 

"I'm presumably to be on my pause, plus you weren't answering your cell phone..."-their face was darker due to the lack of oxygen-"I received information regarding a pair."- they murmured to be prudent. To avoid malicious overhears, they continued their chat in the car. 

"I had a proposal from an acquaintance to purchase a pair of scarlet eyes!

The only setback is that it has to be tonight because he has another interested. For my part, with the ward, I'm available. I told the nurses that I would use my recess and would be back."- It was explicit that (Y/n) had already taken charge of organizing the plan so that it could be implemented immediately.-"Reasonably, I haven't confirmed the purchase yet. As the principal concerned I judged proper to tell you first."

"This is a fabulous opportunity, thank you (Y/n). Confirm our attendance."

It was agreed that the purchase would take place at 9 o'clock, In a black market shop located in YorkNew's downtown. The pair would cost 1,450,000 Jennys.

Although the connections and information of (Y/n) were trustworthy and had been valuable until the present day, Kurapika still wanted more information regarding the plan. He wanted to prioritize their safety.

"Where do you know the individual from?"- Kurapika hinted, trying to obtain information without directly doubting the references.

"I have... I've purchased articles from him before.  I am a frequent customer, he maintains me abreast of his inventory as well as offers."- they informed.-"In those commerces, information travels at great speed. As I've been seeking information on the scarlet eyes, he found out."-He could then conclude it was a credible provider.

Since the dilemma was solved, he could ease a bit.-"In the first instance, when I listened to your voice, I believed I was hallucinating, and working for Neon for a prolonged amount of time had caused me brain damage!"-Kurapika laughed

"Oh! But it's plausible."-they did not understand it was merely a joke-"Chronic Stress produces autophagia in neural stem cells. Normally autophagia is a process to protect cells from unfavorable conditions through the digestion of inner cell materials. However, under certain circumstances, this survival method degenerates into self-destruction. Essentially, the neural cells commit suicide, concluding in brain damage. Plus, chronic stress enhance the risk of neurodegenerative diseases like Alzheimer's disease."-It sometimes was bothersome to date a psychiatrist...-"Even if it was only a pun, I'm a tad concerned about you, Kurapika."-At the end, they got the joke, they were just being a doctor. 

Kurapika couldn't decide whether to be frustrated for his joke or flattered that (Y/n) cared so much about him. 

~

At the accorded place an hour, they entered the shop. An old man with big glasses and a suit greeted them.

"Mx. (Y/n)! It's always pleasant to see one of my favorite customers!"-his voice was croaky and rusty.-"I'm glad you accepted the offer."

The elder was very polite towards (Y/n).

"Helle Mr. Richard, I may say the same. I brought Kurapika with me, my bodyguard,"-the same strategy as the previous times.-" he will accompany us."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr.Kurapika."-the rusty voice spoke once more.-"Since we are dealing with a more elegant object, it is stored in the back room. Be so kind to accompany me there."- the so-named Richard pointed at a big wooden door at the back of the store as he directed it. 

He opened the door for them after they were all inside, closed the door again. Richard sat at the end of a big ornamented oak desk. There were also oak chairs with padding on the other side of the desk. The man motioned for them to sit down. He continued to pull out the vials with the pair of scarlet eyes.

"Both of you can confirm that they are authentic. And the agreed price was 1,450,000 Jennys"-The white-haired senior placed the vials in the middle of the table and reached out his hand, waiting for the money.

(Y/n) took out of their customary side-bag an envelope to deliver it with both hands. The elder took it and pulled out the cash and began to count. All the actions were carried upon the table and in the view of all presents.

"Everything is perfect, as always. Thanks, always a pleasure to do business with you Mx-" 

The sentence was interrupted by a loud crash.

The wooden door had been knocked down, and a group of armed men began to enter the place. With the loud noise (Y/n) swiftly took the vials with the scarlet eyes and pressed them protectively.

"What is happening here, what is this intrusion into my establishment?!"-Richard exclaimed, his voice sounding even rustier.

"These two attacked one of the associates some time ago."- One of the men, presumably the head of the gang, spoke. He had a sloppy beard and reeked of cheap tobacco. He also had a disastrous taste for fashion. He wore a tacky shirt with half the buttons unbuttoned, garish orange fishnets that didn't match at all, and a vulgar red hanky that was sticking out of his shirt's pocket.

"Both of you, don't move. The information runs around here."-the men approached to talk directly to Kurapika and (Y/n).-"We learn that a pale man with blond straight hair wearing a suit and a (skin/color) person with (hair color) (curly/wavy/straight) hair who dressed pretentiously with flowers, both searching for scarlet eyes, attacked one of our sellers. What do you think, we were not going to find you?"-the pestilence was even more intense up close.-"The boss is not far away. You'll see, duo of idiots."

The situation was complicated, Kurapika couldn't use most of his chains if it wasn't against the Spiders. (Y/n) could only use Misericordiae, since they did not know the attackers adequately to use their distinct technique. Plus with the one they had available, they couldn't kill. There was the possibility of a melee attack. Only it was the least viable option. Kurapika would have to use his scarlet eyes or (Y/n) use their feline form. It involved putting their identities in jeopardy, and they still didn't know if the circumstance was desperate to get to that point. The best choice was to divert the group of men to head to the window and jump to escape. The reversal was that to minimize the damage from the shattered glass, they would have to shield themselves with both arms. 

"(Y/n), leave the eyes. I'll use my Dowsing Chain to move the enemies aside and leave by the window."-Kurapika bossed after a moment of reflection. It was still the option with the highest probability of success.

"No, these eyes belong with you. I'm not leaving without them."-(Y/n) growled. They had a look of pure completion, almost as if that judgment contained all their credos compressed.- 

Kurapika couldn't avoid conjuring "This is the worst moment to unleash their stubbornness."-"(Y/n), listen to me!"-he was starting to lose his patience.

"No! I have an approach. Trust me please."-(Y/n) glanced down at their left hand, laced with white ribbon. It was gradually diffusing across the carpet. 

Before any action could be taken, a man, much properly dressed-The leader of the deluded men's ball, most likely.- entered the room yelling with a deep crusty voice and a foreign intonation.

"Okay pack of idiots. That in the end, you did your silly duty. Where are the two rats?".-The man was flat and plump. He was middle-aged, with a round face, almost bald. He was dressed in a semi-formal, dark gray suit:  he wore a geometric patterned tie and matching tissue in his vest's pocket. He entered taking big steps and turned to Kurapika and (Y/n).

At the moment he saw them, his eyes widened, and voiced full of shock.

"(Y/n)?!"

[xfandomwritingsx]

The Sweet of Night – Loki Laufeyson – Part 6

-gif source unknown-

Description: After growing up besides Loki and having a complicated friendship with him, you visit him in his cell at night.  

Warnings/Labels: Sexual tension.

Approx. Word Count: 3,900

Story Masterpost

Why is it all the romance in these is always so tame? is the note he leaves in your latest book when he returns it. He isn’t wrong, necessarily. While you’ve always considered the romance in the novels steamy, you must admit it is in a more subtle fashion. You chew on your lower lip and glance to your bookshelf, thinking about one in particular; the one hidden behind the others in a plain, unmarked cover. It is very… erotic.

You’d purchased it from a little shop outside the village and done so in cloak and shadows. You only read it on nights when you can curl up into your bed completely uninterrupted and preferably if you don’t need to be awake early the next morning. It may not be the most eloquently written piece of literature, but it gets the job done, as the saying goes.

No one else even knows you own such a novel and here you are, actually playing with the idea of sending it to Loki. If he wants untamed romance, it’s sitting right there. But, no. That would be too much, wouldn’t it? Even if it was to just poke fun at his question? No, you couldn’t do it. Something about giving him that book feels too intimate, too brash.

You put his note inside your desk drawer, amongst his others, and return the book to your shelf. You run your fingers along the spines of your other novels, trying to find one that might suit his fancy. He’s already gone through most of your collection. Perhaps a different genre? Would a murder mystery intrigue him or bore him? Loki gives off the impression of being someone to figure out who the killer is within the first few chapters and be bored or irritated the rest of the way through.

As you stand there, contemplating what you’re going to do once you have no more books to share, you find your hand reaching up and ghosting over your shoulder. You’re still so unsure about him. Loki holds tight to the stance that he did not do anything, but you could have sworn you felt his hands upon you. You keep your focus on your uncertainty so that you don’t contemplate the more pressing and more concerning question; why did you want to feel it again?

A knock on your door startles you and you jump back from your bookshelf. Checking yourself in your looking glass quickly, you right the collar of your top before moving to answer your door. A servant stands on the other side, head already bowed and holding out a large clothing box that rests on his forearms.

“Your garments for the feast tonight,” he tells you, snapping you out of your initial confusion. You had honestly forgotten about the feast, mind preoccupied with so many other things.

“Thank you.” You take the box from him and with one more bow, he proceeds down the hall. You wish the servants weren’t so formal with you. It makes you feel strange to have such little interaction with them. As you step back into your room, you make a mental note to perhaps schedule some kind of meal with them.

You put the box on your bed and gently remove the top, looking for the note your mother inevitably put inside. She always insists on you having new robes and gowns for feasts and parties. She claims it’s only proper and when she realized you weren’t going to get new clothes yourself, she started sending them to you instead.

With no note on top, you pick up the garment, shaking it out to full length in front of you. It looks tailored to your build, as always, but the style doesn’t quite fit what your mother usually sends. You are used to golds and silvers, sometimes yellows and reds made of shiny silk and satin; all colors and fabrics she sees fit for a royal to wear.

The dress in your hands is velvet dyed a deep but vibrant green. It’s slim, only flaring out at the bottom towards the ankles with a small slit at the bottom. The sleeves will reach three quarters down your arms, no poofing at the shoulders. The neckline is steeper than you’re used to, but it doesn’t look distasteful. When you turn it around, you notice it has a low cut in back as well. It’s quite striking.

You admire it for another moment before looking back inside the box for the note to explain the change in taste. Instead, you only find the thin, delicate wrapping paper and an empty box. You shake out the dress once more to make such nothing stuck to it and then lay it out on your bed to shake out the box. There is definitely no note.

“Odd,” you say to yourself, squinting at the dress. It’s really unlike your mother to not leave a note. You shrug it off however, seeing as how it’s not the oddest thing your mother has done before. You make sure to hang the dress as to not wrinkle it until this evening.

---

The dress is even more striking on your body than it was on its hanger. You smooth your hands over the bodice of it as you watch yourself in the looking glass. You dare say you look quite lovely in it. You adorn your neck with a silver chain necklace you’d received as a birthday gift a few years ago and do your hair into your favorite style for these occasions. While the low cut back does make you feel quite a bit more exposed than normal, the entire air of the gown gives you a boost of confidence to wear it proudly. Slipping on your shoes, you make your way to the feast.

The grand hall to the formal dining room is filled with people and noise as you enter. Few people turn to look at you as you enter, just one person in a crowd. Your eyes scan the hall as you walk through, looking for a friendly face to approach.

You always hate large gatherings like these simply because it puts pressure on you to find someone to socialize with. Standing on the wall and observing, as you would prefer most days, is unbecoming and sometimes seen as rude. While most of the faces here are familiar, there are few you’d fancy speaking to. This leaves you walking down the middle of the hall, searching for any such person and as you walk through the center of so many people, you feel as though you notice more heads turn your way. You ignore it and continue on your way until you see Thor, Sif, and The Warrior’s Three near the entrance door.

Sif notices you first and she does the smallest double take in the midst of their laughter before giving you a sly look from the corner of her eye that you don’t quite understand. You wear a casual smile as you approach them and make yourself known.

“Evening all,” you greet, turning their eyes to you. “I trust everyone is behaving thus far?” You catch a slight widening of Thor’s eyes as his face freezes in place for no more than half a second.

“Now what fun would that be?” Volstagg bellows, taking a drink from the tankard of mead already in his hand. When his eyes fall upon you, the drink is spluttered back into its cup as he roughly coughs out a formal, “My lady.” Fandral claps him on the back to aid clearing his lungs as they all laugh.

“I believe that was meant to imply he likes your outfit tonight,” Sif teases. You shift uncomfortably and give a shy smile, suddenly unable to ignore that feeling of everyone looking at you. “He’s just not articulate enough to say so.”

“You do look quite lovely tonight,” Hogun confirms in a much softer and kinder tone. Sif swiftly links her arm into yours and pulls you close to her side.

“She looks lovely every night,” she says firmly. “You buffoons just never notice a woman unless a certain amount of skin is showing.” You can’t help the small smile on your lips as all four men start blabbering excuses. “If you’ll excuse us,” she interrupts. “Us women have better things to attend to than you gentlemen.” She pulls you away by your arm and you give a little cheeky wave to the boys as she whisks you away, feeling much more confident and less embarrassed.

“You always know just how to handle them,” you compliment her as she walks you off to a quieter corner.

“You say that as if you haven’t put them in their place yourself before.” She unlinks your arms and swipes some drinks off of a passing server’s tray.

“Never with quite the finesse you use.” You take one of the drinks from her and clink them together before each taking a swallow. “I haven’t been around as much as I used to.”

“You’ve become quite the busy woman,” she agrees. “There’s been some curiosity about who you’ve been spending your time with.” She peers at you from over her drink and your mouth drops open.

“No one!” you protest. Her eyes drop to your gown.

“Are you quite sure?” A coy smile is on her lips when she lowers her drink. “That dress is quite a statement piece.”

“You know my mother always picks out my formalwear,” you chastise her. Sif huffs a laugh.

“That does not look like your mother’s doing.” Before you can argue, there’s a hand on your shoulder and your mother is sweeping into the conversation herself.

“Oh I know, but the shop keeper talked me into it at the last moment,” she explains, slipping her hand down to yours and guiding your arm out to the side to admire you. “It certainly is bold, isn’t it? A little change is good.” She lowers her arm and smiles proudly. “Can’t have you dressing like an old maiden now, can we?”

“Mother, a simple change of wardrobe isn’t going to suddenly marry me off.” She shrugs, brushing off your scolding and smiles at Sif who passes you an apologetic look.

“And you look dashing as always, Lady Sif,” she compliments. Sif nods her head in muted gratitude. “Come now, we must find our seats.” Your mother links her arm in yours and for the second time this evening, you’re pulled away.

---

The meal itself, filled with loud commotion over casual conversation, passes quickly. The food is, as always, plentiful and delicious if not a little extravagant. Drink flows easily among the tables, sometimes a little too literally as clumsy hands spill it across the table cloth. You are among one of the firsts to stand and make your way to slightly less crowded and loud sections of the halls.

You venture out towards the gardens where only a few stray people have wandered to yet. The open back of your dress sends a slight chill down your spine, but the longer you stay outside, the less you feel it. You lean your arms on a fence railing and slowly inhale the aroma of the surrounding flowers.

“My lady,” a timid voice says from behind you. You look over your shoulder to see a lad dressed in formal guard’s wear and looking at you with a young face. “I am Fazil Devereux.” He offers you a bow and your body tenses in preparation for what you expect to be an awkward conversation with whom you assume to be Lord Devereux’s eldest son. “I am hoping to steal away a little of your time this evening.”

“That’s very kind of you,” you say gently and formally. “I am, however, quite tired and should retire for the evening.” He gives you an unexpected smile.

“Your mother told me you may decline at first.” You have a hard time keeping a polite look on your face. “I won’t be dissuaded so easily.” His voice is full of young confidence, the kind that tries too hard to be real. The poor lad is trying to be bold in an effort to be attractive and, unfortunately for him, failing.

“Fazil,” you start, ready to change to a sharper tactic if he doesn’t ease soon. You use his name instead of his title, removing your obligated politeness and formality to the interaction. “I don’t think you-”

“There you are!” Thor’s voice booms, interrupting your rejection. He’s besides you in no more than two steps, a hand gently at your elbow. He makes a show of noticing Fazil in front of you, as if he hadn’t seen him prior. “Apologies for the intrusion my good fellow,” His voice is quite loud and you recognize it as his show voice. “I have things I must discuss with my advisor.” There’s a small mixture of fear in the disappointment in Fazil’s eyes as he bows his head.

“Of course, sire.” He looks back to you. “Another time then perhaps.” You give him a clearly forced smile, though you doubt he notices the difference. Once he’s out of earshot, you turn to Thor.

“Thank you,” you whisper with a slight laugh. He smiles warmly down at you and leans against the railing himself.

“It was not a problem. I know a thing or two about unwanted pressures to find a partner.” You turn and lean back down onto the fence again, sighing.

“Yes, but I’m sure your pressures are greater.” You would never dare to think your woes equal to those of the will-be-king.

“Unwanted advances are unwanted advances,” he says. “Comparisons are not needed.” Your lips tilt up softly. Sometimes you forget how kind and even wise Thor can be. He’s grown quite a lot from the boy he used to be. It’s admirable. “You do look very beautiful tonight,” he tells you carefully. “You drew the eye of many men and women.” You begin to feel your face heat. It was not your intention to draw any eyes at all, but it does fill you with a touch more confidence, if you’re honest. Thor looks at the dress again. “It’s a good color on you, which is ironic,” he laughs, looking out whimsically over the flowers.

“Why is that?” you question. His smile is contagious.

“That is my brother’s signature color.” The smile drops from your face. “I must admit he wore it well, but I do dare to say you wear it better than he ever did.” You stick the smile back onto your face when he turns to look at you, fully entertained by his own musings, but he still sees the unease in your eyes. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” You nod. “I just got a chill is all.” The lie swallows easily and Thor lifts his hand to his neck to unbutton the thick cape he adorns.

“Here.” Ever the gentleman, he sweeps his cape off of his shoulders and onto your own even as you politely protest. He steps closer to fasten the button at the front of your neck carefully before fanning the fabric around your body. His hands land on your shoulders and linger, giving you a short squeeze.

“Thank you.” You must admit that it does help the chill and with your back and the dress now covered, you’re breathing a breath of relief all of a sudden. “I don’t believe I’ll be staying much longer though.” Thor gives your shoulders one more squeeze.

“Then you may return it on another day.” He lets his hands fall from you and steps back, still smiling. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.” With one more nod from the both of you and a smile over his shoulder as he departs, Thor leaves you to your thoughts.

You linger for barely a minute before your feet are whisking you away in such a hurry that you don’t notice how the garden has filled with more people.

---

“My Lady,” Decimus greets in surprise. “I was not expecting you tonight with the feast.” He straightens and moves to leave his post. “I will retrieve a chair for you.”

“There’s no need,” you assure him, holding out your hand to stop him before passing by. “I won’t be staying long.” Your feet carry you quite quickly to Loki’s cell.

“Well, well, well,” he hums from his spot on his bed as he sees you round the corner. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Was this you?” you ask hurriedly as you poke your arms out through the edges at the front of the cape, showing the sleeves of the dress.

“Honestly, I didn’t expect to get the pleasure of seeing you in it.” He sits up from where he’s lounging and smiles. “My brother’s cloak does not make a good accessory.” There’s a slight bitterness in his tone and you snap your arms back underneath the shield of the cape.

“How did you manage this?” you ask, your bafflement not having faded. “And why?” He shrugs.

“There are still people out there who owe me favors even when I’m locked away in here.” He stands and starts to walk towards you. “Your mother was very easy to convince, I heard. And as for the why part…” He sighs and shrugs again as he gets to the barrier. “It’s a gift.”

“A gift?” you scoff.

“There’s only so much I can offer from within the confines of my prison.” His words sound genuine, which somehow makes you distrust them. “You’ve given me books and companionship. The least I could do is give you a pretty dress worthy of your beauty.”

“You cannot buy me with pretty things,” you tell him, pushing back the blush from his compliment. His smile widens.

“Ah, but I have no need to buy you. I already have your company on a regular basis. I have nothing to gain from such a gift except for your gratitude, should you give it.” You see his eyes try to peer into the cape, to see the dress, but the large fabric hides it well.

“You get off on manipulation and playing with people,” you counter, refusing to let yourself be fooled with soft words. “You gain pure entertainment and pleasure by slipping me into this gown and me parading around in your signature color.” His eyes shift a shade darker, the smile melting into a smirk.

“Is that what you think?” He brings his forearm above his head and rests it on the barrier. “That I lay here in this cell and bring myself to heights of pleasure to the thought of you wearing my color?” Your mouth snaps shut, having stumbled your way into something you hadn’t meant to. Images you’ll never admit you’ve wondered about before are suddenly filling your head. “I assure you my pleasures would come from slipping you out of the gown, not into it.” Your hands fiddle together beneath the cape, breath caught in your throat. “But if you’re so sure, come now.” His eyes trace down you once with a slight nod. “Let me see it on you.” At this point, you’re not sure if he’s demanding or begging. You feel that rush of confidence and it turns to boldness as you lift your fingers up to the button at your neck.

“A show of gratitude, as you called it,” you rationalize as you enjoy the look of surprise in his eyes, having caught him off guard for once.

He remains silent as you push the cape from your shoulders and let it billow onto the floor. His eyes take their time traveling down every inch of your body and then slowly back up again. His breathing is forcedly slow, but his hand above his head has clenched into a fist. He licks his lips once before he speaks again, his voice a husky silk draping over you.

“Turn for me.”

There’s no hesitation in you as you slowly spin around, careful not to let your feet tangle in the cape as you do so. There’s a hiss from Loki when your back is exposed to him and you pause to look over your shoulder at him. There’s always been flirtation, the tease of something, but the way he’s looking at you now leaves no room for debate between either of you; there’s an attraction here. In this moment, you can’t pretend it’s one-sided either.

“Perfect place for a man to place his hand, isn’t it?” you ask coyly. His fist tightens as his hand hanging by his thigh harshly flexes in contrast. “Is that why you chose this one?” You begin to turn again so you can face him. “So you could imagine your hands on me?” He crooks his finger at you, beckoning you closer. Lifting the hem of the dress to avoid tripping, you approach the barrier.

“Do you wish to know what I imagine?” His voice is low and leans down towards you. “I can show you.”

“Show me?” you ask skeptically. Your hand comes to the barrier and his follows, reaching to touch you if only he could.

“Oh yes,” he chuckles. You see movement behind him and it startles you. You shift away from the barrier and he leans for you to see more clearly.

You’re looking at yourself. He’s projected an image of you standing beside an image of himself. You are facing away, the smooth of your back in full view in your dress. The image of him faces you, his hand teasing your shoulder with his fingertips as he watches your image’s face intently.

“I can show you all sorts of things.” The real Loki draws your attention back to him. “You may not be able to touch me, pet, but that doesn’t mean you can’t see it happen.” You can barely feel your feet on the ground and you know the barrier between you is the only thing stopping you from making a very, very bad decision.

“Is that what you do when you’re feeling lonely?” you ask him teasingly. “Put on a little show for yourself?”

“I wonder which answer it is you’re hoping for,” he teases right back. He has no interest in the illusion behind him and you find yourself unable to look away from the flesh and blood man in front of you too. He raises his hand, traces his finger along the barrier before your cheek. “For a man of illusions, I much prefer the real thing.”

“As do I.” There’s a flicker behind him as your images dissolve, but you pay little attention to it.

“Perhaps one day,” he muses.

“Perhaps.” There’s a slightly somber pause that allows the tension to fade enough for you to release yourself from his pull. “I can’t stay,” you tell him regretfully.

“I’m sure the feast wore you out tonight.” He sighs heavily and allows his hands to drop away and lean back.

“It was quite the event,” you admit. “And now I’m sure I’ll have to avoid prying eyes seeing as how I wore what Thor pointed out to me is your color.” Loki chuckles softly as you back away to gather the cloak and refasten it around your neck.

“I have a feeling the court will be much more interested in you walking around in and leaving the feast in Thor’s cloak.” You scoff at him and his notion.

“No one would believe Thor and I are anything of an item.” You readjust yourself and ready to bid him goodnight.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

~~~

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[etherealtauruss]

i’m wasting my time (when it was always you)

read on ao3

The air in the room was thick with tension. The men weren’t as close to each other as they usually were. It was weird, to say the least, to sit with such a generous amount of space between them. The silence was uncomfortable as well; it was bordering on eerie at this point. This wasn’t the first time they sat in a noiseless room together, but something about the energy was off. 

On the bright side, Christopher was finally in bed, thanks to Buck and two chapters of his latest Goosebumps book. Eddie had decided it’d be best if they talked about the disagreement they had earlier in the day tomorrow; after both of them had a good night’s rest. If they tried to hash it out tonight, he was sure that they’d just be talking in circles. Both parties needed a clear mind going into the conversation of Eddie jumping back into the dating pool. 

Now, back to the issue at hand. Buck and Eddie were fighting. 

Okay, fighting is an exaggeration, but things were certainly weird between them. Eddie had originally come by to pick up Chris, and he had figured Buck would fill him in on anything he deemed detrimental the following day. But, the look on his best friend’s face said it all. Whatever had happened between the time that Chris arrived at Buck’s house and Eddie coming by to get him, was something they needed to discuss sooner rather than later. 

But seeing said look on Buck’s face made Eddie want to do nothing more than hold him close and assure him that everything would be alright. He had no idea what they had discussed, but the thought of either of the most important people in his life hurting was almost too much to bear. 

Eddie wanted to place soft kisses all over Buck’s body; starting from his nose and ending at the tips of his toes. He wanted to love Buck unapologetically. He wanted to declare his love for the man; shouting it from the rooftop of the tallest building he could locate in Los Angeles. So yeah, there was no denying his feelings for Buck. But to risk losing one of the best friends he’s ever had? To risk ruining the amazing friendship between Buck and Chris? It wasn’t worth it. He had ultimately decided his feelings didn’t matter all that much in the grand scheme of things. 

If only he had the balls to just come out and say it, perhaps he could’ve avoided this night sent from hell entirely. 

So, that’s how they ended up here. In Eddie’s living room, acting as if they’d never spoken to each other a day in their lives. 

“So you’re just not going to say anything,” Eddie finally announced after what seemed like a lifetime. 

“I’m not sure what you expect me to say, Eddie.” 

Buck’s tone was clipped. 

“I want you to explain to me what conversation took place between you and Chris,” Eddie replied. “Because clearly, it was more serious than I had originally assumed.”

“I already told you on the drive over here,” Buck groaned. “I specifically said we had a heart to heart; nothing more, nothing less.” 

Eddie crossed his arms and turned his body so he was facing the younger man. “Do you expect me to believe that, Buckley? Because the look on your face formed words before your mouth had the chance to.” 

“You want the truth? Because I can give you the truth, Diaz,” Buck answered. “Chris told me that everyone leaves and when they do, he misses them, and it makes him sad,” Buck took a breath. “And now, you’re going to introduce him to yet another person, just for them to leave. He’s scared. And quite frankly? I don’t blame him, Eddie.” 

Eddie took a second to absorb what Buck had just told him. He had no idea this is where the anger Chris expressed was stemming from. But how could he? This had been the first time the topic of dating had come up since Shannon’s passing. And now with the pandemic, feelings were bound to be amplified in all areas. 

“Wait, ” Eddie said. “Did you just imply that you don’t think Ana is here for the long run?” His brows were furrowed and his tone was teetering on accusatory, but he couldn’t care less right now. 

“Maybe I did,” Buck replied. And boy, did he look smug, with the outer parts of his mouth quirked slightly. He was testing Eddie; seeing how far he could push him until he reached his breaking point. 

“That’s a bold statement to make about someone you barely know,” Eddie fired back. 

Things were heating up, quickly. 

“That’s rich coming from you,” Buck chuckled humorlessly. “You’re bringing someone into his life that you barely know!” 

Eddie grimaced at Buck’s statement. He wasn’t wrong, per se, but he was in too deep. This was happening.

“That’s not,” his voice faltered, “that’s not the same and you know it.” 

“Oh but it is,” Buck replied. “Humor me though. How well do you know Miss Flores?”

Eddie opened his mouth and then closed it. He knew she was Chris’s old teacher. He knew she was now a VP at a different school. He knew she was Latina. He knew she was beautiful, smart, and put together. 

Okay, so maybe that was all that he knew. 

“Ha! See. I know you, Eddie and you know me. But you have to admit, you don’t know anything that’s not surface-level about her.” He laughed again, “Your conversations are about as deep as a kitty pool.” 

“I’m getting to know her, Buck,” Eddie replied, rolling his eyes. “Do you get into relationships and dive into their shit immediately?” 

While Eddie waited for Buck’s response, he rose from the couch and walked into the kitchen. He grabbed two beers from the bottom shelf of the fridge and nodded his head at Buck, signaling him to move the conversation. 

Buck walked up to the island, cracked open his Heineken, and took a generous swig. “No. But I also don’t have a mini-me to introduce my potential significant other to,” Buck said pointedly. “All I’m saying is that I think it’s a little early to be jumping headfirst into the deep end.” 

“I didn’t ask you what your opinion was on my relationship.” 

“I mean technically-” Buck challenged, but Eddie was fed up at this point. 

“Why do you care so much anyway?” Eddie countered, cutting Buck off mid-sentence. 

Buck was taken back. He wasn’t expecting that question, but he was quick on his feet, so he went rushing in with another answer. 

“Because I care about Chris,” he said calmly. “I also care about you and I want you to be happy, I do. You deserve it more than anyone, but I just think you’re moving a little fast. There’s no guarantee she’s not going to walk out when it gets rocky.” 

Buck sighed, “Or maybe she’ll decide that being with a first responder isn’t for her. Which I mean, fair; it’s not for everyone. Regardless, the point still stands. I don’t think she’s permanent in Chris’s life at the moment, so it’s weird, in my opinion, to treat her as such.” 

Eddie knew Buck was right. He wanted to say it. The words were at the tip of his tongue. If he could just– 

“I’m a permanent fixture in Chris’s life,” Buck blurted out, nervously brushing his palms against his jeans. 

Eddie raised an eyebrow at the younger. Surely Buck didn't think he could be anything but a permanent fixture in Chris’s life. He meant so much to both of them; Eddie and Christopher. Buck was a crucial part of the Diaz family; no ifs, ands, or buts. 

“I never said you weren’t. Is there something I’m missing here?” Eddie asked, letting out a nervous laugh.  

“I-,” Buck began. “Nevermind. Now’s not the time.”

“Buck, c’mon,” Eddie pleaded. “There’s no better time than right now.” 

“I can’t,” Buck muttered. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I can't tell you like this,” he finished in a hushed tone. 

Eddie frowned. He placed his beer bottle onto a swirled marble of the island and swiftly walked over to his best friend who stood just three feet away. He placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and rested his thumb on Buck’s collarbone, rubbing it back and forth across the clavicle covered by milky skin. 

“Buck. You know you can tell me anything,” Eddie said. He gave the man's shoulder a light squeeze and continued to rub his thumb across the length of the prominent bone, letting Buck know it was okay to speak whenever he was ready. 

“Did you ever stop and think about why I jumped into the dating pool right after you did?” Buck asked, eyes trained on the floor. 

“I-I figured–,” Eddie stumbled slightly, trying to find the right words. “I just assumed you were tired of being single.”

“That and the fact that the person I wanted was whisked away before I had the chance to tell him how I feel,” Buck replied, voice cracking. His throat felt like it was closing and he felt the familiar sting towards the back of his eyes, a sure sign that the waterworks were on their way. “God. This is pathetic.” 

“Hey. Look at me,” Eddie said, coaxing Buck’s head upward with a feather-light touch to his chin. 

Buck tried to avoid eye contact by going against the grain of Eddie’s touch. He couldn’t breakdown, not now. He'd almost made it to the end of their.. conversation? Whatever. At this moment, he wished for nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole and return him to real life in 14 to 17 business days. He couldn't tell Eddie how he felt now. Not when Eddie was finally happy. 

He couldn't make something about him. Again. 

He couldn't be a bad friend to another person within two hours. 

So why did Buck blow up his spot? Beats him. 

“I like you, Eddie,” Buck confessed. “But, that doesn't matter now. I missed my chance; you're with Ana. I won't take away your happiness. I can't take away your happiness; not now, not ever.” 

Buck sighed and reluctantly stepped out from under the older man’s touch. “I should leave. I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Eds.” 

“Buck,” Eddie started gentle yet firm. “The only way you could take away my happiness is if you walked out, through that door.” 

“Huh?” was all Buck managed to say. 

“You bring me happiness, Buck. You are my happiness. Well, besides Chris, but that should go without saying.” Eddie rubbed his hands together and continued, “I like you too.” 

Buck chewed on his bottom lip, trying to think of what to say in reply to Eddie’s declaration. 

“How long have you felt this way? How come you didn't tell me, Eds?” he asked. 

“Longer than I’d like to admit. But I couldn't risk messing up everything just for feelings that could've been one-sided.” 

“And that’s why you went out with Ana?” Buck questioned. 

“Partially. I needed to start my journey to real happiness. Then Ana conveniently reappeared, so I thought, why not y’know?” 

Eddie continued before Buck could respond. “Ana isn't you, Buck. That's what I'm getting at. She's sweet, funny, and intelligent, but she's not you. She doesn't hold a candle to all that you are.” 

Buck began to chuckle, which soon turned into a full-on fit of giggles. Once he was done with his laughter and caught his breath, he spoke once more. “We’re a pair of idiots, aren't we?”

“That we are," Eddie said. His eyes crinkled as a genuine grin graced his face. "Though I must say, there's no one I’d rather be an idiot with besides you.” 

They wanted to kiss. Boy, did they want to kiss. However, the men also knew Eddie had to break things off with Ana first. It was just the right thing to do. But in the meantime, they could hold one another in the soft glow of Eddie’s kitchen and exchange words so sweet you'd think they had been dipped in honey. They would be together soon. 

Oh so soon. 

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding On  Ch4: Full Steeb Ahead

Summary: Frank is determined to get Fliss to hear him out. But will she believe him?

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N: Hopefully after this @sweater-daddiesdumbdork will stop chasing me. As always, thanks to my unofficial beta @icanfeelastormbrewing​ for the usual inputs and opinions.  Chapter Song: Man Who Can’t Be Moved by The Script

Series Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist

People talk about the guy that’s waiting on a girl. There are no holes in his shoes but a big hole in his world.

Frank woke early the next morning, well, maybe woke was an exaggeration seeing as he probably managed about an hour of straight sleep, if that. The rest was spent in small dozing periods of 20, maybe 30 minutes at a time.  His neck was stiff from laying on the couch, as was his back and deciding he would give up trying to get comfortable he sat up, stretching his muscles out before he ran a hand down his tired face.

It was still dark outside and he reached for his phone. It had just gone 6 am, which meant he had an hour or so before the house started to wake. Standing up, he grabbed the shirt he had discarded the night before and shoving it on he located his sneakers. Once they were on his feet he grabbed his keys and as quietly as he could let himself out of the house, locking the door behind him as he headed down the little pathway which led to the main one through their little estate.

He walked down past the harbour and the little garages which were starting to open, nodding to a few of the guys he used to see knocking around when he had worked there, continuing past the little row of bait and tackle shops, past the small café, before he reached the path that led along the rocky sea defence. He followed the sandy pathway down to the boardwalk along the beach and continued for as long as he could, his feet treading over the well-worn wooden slats, some of which were loose in places, before it ended and he hit the soft sand. He headed onto the beach, it was almost deserted apart from a few early morning dog walkers, which suited him fine.

The ocean always calmed him. He had no idea why, but it had done ever since he was a kid. He’d adored those family holidays taken before it all went to rat shit, memories of him, his father and his sister playing on the sand whilst his mother read a book shaded by a parasol, every so often looking up to observe what was going on before returning back to whatever latest theory she was reading up on.  And then at night, they would eat with a family, late walks on the beach were always a treat, watching the dark water as it lapped against the shore, his dad making up random tales about Peg Legged Pirates searching for treasure which was always buried not far from where they were stood.

He’d done the same with Mary, telling her the same tales he could remember and making up new ones when he couldn’t. She didn’t buy them anymore, she was far too old for her age, but he couldn’t wait to tell them to Bean when he or she arrived, see their little face light up as they glanced over the ocean searching for ghostly ships or dug in the sand for imaginary treasure.

He reached the water’s edge and looked out at the horizon for a few minutes taking in the detail of the sky which was lit up in hues of purple and orange as the sun hovered a few meters or so above the place where the sea hit the sky and he took a deep breath, trying to calm his mind. He was in a mess, a mess that was entirely his own doing, and he felt utterly powerless to fix it. If he couldn’t get Fliss to listen to him…well, he didn’t even want to think about that. But the more he tried not to, the more he did. He couldn’t lose her, not over some stupid misunderstanding like this. Pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ease the tension headache that was already forming behind his eyes, not helped by the lack of sleep, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to re-centre himself. He finally had everything he hadn't even realised he needed and losing it was not an option. He had to fix this. With one last deep breath he turned to take the 15 minutes or so walk back home.

The house was still quiet when he got back in but he could hear the sounds of the shower meaning Fliss was up. He headed into the bedroom, Thor raising his head from where he was led on the bed, and he bent over to give the dog a scratch behind the ear. He pulled out a clean pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a pair of boxers, tossing them down on the pale blue bed covers, his head turning to face Fliss as she walked into the room, towel wrapped around her, hair piled in a messy bun on her head. His heart gave an instant pang as he took in how tired she looked, the guilt flooding over him as he knew it was his fault.

“Where did you go?” she asked him, her voice soft. “I heard the door.”

“For a walk.” he said, “Just to the beach. Needed some air.”

She looked at him for a moment before she nodded and moved to the dresser to pull out her clothes for the day.

“Can we talk?” he asked her tentatively and she stopped, straightening up before she looked at him.

“I told you last night, I’ve nothing to say.”

“No, but I have.” he pressed, “Lissy please…just hear me out, let me explain.”

She licked her lips and took a deep breath before she sighed “Fine, when Mary’s gone to school. But I have clients at 9 and I need to pick Rupert up so I’m leaving here at 8:15 no later.”

“Ok.” he nodded, giving her a small smile before he headed into the bathroom for a shower.

Breakfast was a little subdued, but he had to give Fliss her credit. She was polite and civil to him, even if she wasn’t affectionate. But it didn’t fool Mary. She asked him as he walked her down to the bus stop what was going on, and not being one to lie to her, he told her truthfully that he’d been an idiot over the weekend and needed to apologise to Fliss. At that she shot him a filthy look.

“You better fix things or I will kill you and hate you forever.” she said before she turned and stormed towards the waiting bus.

You and me both, Short Stack.

When he got back Fliss was waiting for him like she said she would be, sat at the table. She looked at him as he sat on the seat at the end, so he was to her right and facing her. She glanced at her watch “You got 15 minutes.” “Lissy, those photos…” Frank dove straight in, he had not time to waste and even if he did, he didn’t want to. This was eating him up inside “I know they look bad…”

“No shit sherlock…”

“I swear to God, nothing happened.”

“Nothing happened.” She repeated, looking at him and he shook his head.

“Nothing.”

“Then how the fuck did she end up on your knee Frank?”

He took a deep breath “In all honestly I only know from what Simon and Greg told me.” he said, “I was drunk, I’d already pushed her away earlier in the night and she came over with her friends, one of them was getting into one of the guys Jake works with and she just sat on my knee. Apparently it took me a while but in the end I told her to get lost. I was quite rude to her, so they say.”

“You look fairly comfortable with her on your lap in the photo.” Fliss said after a moment, her voice quiet. The hurt in her tone made Frank feel even more like shit, as she wasn’t screaming or shouting which to be honest he was fairly sure he would have dealt with a whole lot better. “And in the other photo where you look like you’re about to kiss her.”

“Baby, I swear to you seconds after that I told her no. I’d just bumped into her and she was falling so I grabbed her to make sure she didn’t as that was the second time I’d nearly kno-“

“The second time?” Fliss looked at him and Frank closed his eyes, letting out a groan. “So you accidently nearly kissed her before.”

“No, that’s not-“ “Keep digging Frank, because that hole you’re in is getting deeper and deeper by the second.” she shook her head, looking away.

“I nearly knocked her over before.” he said, “Round the pool. I’d just finished talking to you, turned round and bumped straight into her.” “Right, and she just happened to be there in the club then after you ‘bumped’…” she framed the words with her fingers “…into her?”

“Again, full honestly, no, I don’t think she did” he shook his head “She was flirty. Made some comment or other when I said I’d watch where I was going about how she hoped not, and then we saw them on the Friday night too in one of the bars…”

Fliss looked at him and shook her head “The irresistible Adler charm eh?” Her voice carried a note of sarcasm, and Frank shook his head.

“Baby I’m just being honest here, telling you the truth. She was with a group on a 21st and I think they just saw a gang of guys and…” he shrugged “I dunno…they screwed Aaron, Chad and Jeff out of plenty of drinks so...” Fliss licked her lips and looked down, her hands fiddling with the now empty glass in her hands.

“Sweetheart, I get why you’re mad, I really do…and maybe I should have told her to fuck off sooner…”

“Maybe?” “Alright, not maybe, I should have but…I swear to god I didn’t kiss her, I didn’t sleep with her…nothing happened” He reached for her hand, his fingers gently squeezing hers “I love you, more than I can even begin to explain, and our Bean…the thought of being with anyone else never crosses my mind.”

She looked at him, then down at his hand which was over hers before she took a deep breath. Her head was a mash. Half of her wanted to believe him, his face and his words were so sincere and he’d never lied to her before, ever. But the other half…those damned photos. And either way, whether he had kissed her or not, he had been far too close, and she’d sat on his fucking knee long enough for someone to get a picture.

“You do believe me, right?” Frank asked, his eyes locking onto hers.

“Honestly?” she asked.

“Always.” he nodded.

“I don’t know what to believe…” she said, before she pulled her hand away and stood up, “I have to go. I’ll see you tonight.”

*****

“Hey Titch…” Steve greeted Fliss as she walked into the annex and instantly frowned when he saw her face “You ok?”

“Yeah…I’m fine.” She shrugged, not wanting to talk about what was happening anymore. She was tired. “Where’s Roo?”

“He’s out back.” Steve frowned “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit nothing.” he said, looking at her. She looked away as the tears filled her eyes and she turned to her brother shaking her head.

“Just Frank…and…”

“What’s he done?” Steve asked

“I don’t know.” Fliss said, her tears trickling down her face. “That’s just it…”

Steve put the coffee mug he was holding down on the side and swept his sister into his arms. “Hey, come on…”

She pressed her face into his grey t-shirt as his arms wrapped around her and she simply cried the tears she’d been holding back all morning. Eventually Steve pulled back and looked down at her, letting out a soft sigh. “What’s going on Lissy?”

She moved to take out her phone and wordlessly scrolled to the offending photos which she had saved and handed the phone to him. “There’s another one…” she said, as she saw her brother’s face darken. Steve swiped across and let out a huff through his nose.

“Ok.” he nodded “They don’t look great. What’s he had to say about them?”

Fliss swallowed “That he was drunk, and moments after the first one he pushed the girl away and on the second one…well, he says he told her to get lost too but…” “But you don’t believe him?”

“I don’t know Steve, that’s the problem.” she shrugged “I want to believe him, and he’s never lied to be before…and then there’s the message he sent me about being in someone else’s room and…”

“Hang on…someone else’s room?”

Fliss nodded and explained the whole mix up, about how he had been with Simon but even that she was having her doubts about now and Steve listened, his hand running over his beard as he took in her words.

“Have you talked to any of the other guys that were there?” he asked and she shook her head.

“Bonnie tried calling me before but, well to be honest they’re all gonna cover for him, even if he did do it aren’t they? I mean fuck…, seeing those damned photos…it was humiliating and…”

Steve sighed, handing her the phone back. “Look, Lissy, I’ve been in this position before. Some woman all over me and Sian getting the hump. Photos are a snap shot in time, they never tell the whole story…you know that as well as anyone.”

“Yeah, but the same girl is there, on his fucking lap Steve…”

“I know, and yes, regardless of what he did he shouldn’t have let that happen but…fucking hell, he was in Vegas, pissed out of his brains.” Steve sighed “I’m not excusing it, before you start, and I’m not dismissing your worry but…I dunno Liss, just don’t jump to any conclusions ok? Give it some thought.” “I can’t think about anything else.” she murmured. “God you’re just like dad.” Steve chuckled “Could be worse people to be like. Look, go to work, get your thoughts straight and if you’re adamant at the end of the day you still don’t believe him then just come here for the night and we’ll take it from there ok?”

Fliss nodded and wiped at her face “Thanks Steve.” “What are big brother’s for huh?” She smiled and then eyed him a little “You’re not gonna do anything stupid are you?” “Define stupid?” “Like go round there and punch him?” Steve shook his head “I promise, no punching.” Satisfied he was telling her the truth she whistled for both dogs who came trotting over, bid her brother goodbye and headed out to her jeep.

****** With nothing else much to do on his day off, Frank was busy scrolling the internet looking at realtor pages. Whilst things were still up in the air, it was helping him focus on being positive, because being anything else was not an option. So far nothing in particular had grabbed his eye but still, it was keeping him occupied as he tried to push the fear he was harbouring to the back of his mind.

He was pulled from his browsing by a knock to the door. Setting the laptop to one side he stood up and headed down the hallway and no sooner had he opened the door someone had gripped the collar of his shirt and shoved him harshly into the wall. It took him a split second to focus and when he realised who it was he gripped the front of them man’s shirt and pushed back. There was a little scuffle in the hallway until Frank managed to free himself from the man’s grip before he stood there, glaring at him, chest heaving.

“Fuck off Steve…” he glared at him.

“I warned you.” Steve looked at him “I told you what would happen if you hurt her Frank…”

“Yes, I remember what you said.” Frank looked at him, shaking his head.

“And yet you still did it…” “Oh get fucked, this has nothing to do with you…” “Piss off Frank, it has everything to do with me.” Steve snarled “She turned up this morning for the dog in a right state. Showed me the photos.”

Frank sighed and hung his head. He should have expected this.

“I told her not to jump to conclusions, trying to keep her calm but I gotta admit Frank…they look pretty damning.”

“I’m aware of that, thanks.” Frank bit back “And you know what, I don’t need this. Things are enough of a mess as it is without adding a brawl with you into the equation.” he turned back to head into the living room “Close the door on your way out.”

“Look me in the eye, tell me you didn’t…” Steve said to his back and Frank stopped, shaking his head as he turned to face him.

“Of course I didn’t. I’d never do that to her.”

Frank met Steve’s glare with one of his own and he could practically see the man’s mind whirring. Eventually he took a deep breath and jerked his head in a stiff nod.

“I had to know Frank.” he said, his tone less confrontational, and Frank knew Steve well enough to understand that was as much of an apology as he was going to get. Frank didn’t say anything, simply turned away once more and headed into the lounge.

“So what happened?” Steve asked following him.

“I was shit faced, that’s what happened.” Frank sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. He turned to look at Steve once more “The girl was part of a group that we’d bumped into a few times. She was a little flirty and yeah, I talked to her, but… she was a fucking kid they were there on a 21st party.”

Steve arched an eyebrow slightly as Frank pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

“She tried kissing me in the bar, I pushed her away. I don’t even know how she ended upon my lap but I told her to get lost and…” he shrugged and looked at Steve “There’s nothing more to it…”

“And the morning after when you woke up elsewhere?”

Frank let out a groan “I was in Simon’s room. I passed out…we both did. Liss called me that morning, she even heard Simon on the phone…” Steve watched him carefully as Frank simply shook his head “I’ve explained all this to her…”

“I know.” Steve said “I just wanted to hear it for myself.” he took a deep breath “Any coffee going?”

Frank looked at him and Steve gave him a small smile, causing Frank’s spirit to lift somewhat. Her brother believed him, which was the best thing he could have hoped for in the circumstances.

“Sure…” Frank nodded and headed to the kitchen, Steve following. He made them both a drink, not another word spoken until he handed him a mug and Steve took a sip, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Look, Frank, I don’t think she believes you cheated, not really. From what she said to me I think she’s more upset really about how she found out.”

“She wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for those damned photos because there is nothing to find out.” Frank shook his head.

“When she told you about John…did she ever mention his little photo stunts?” Steve looked at Frank and Frank paused, frowning a little as he racked his brains, and then a conversation one stormy night as they lay in bed suddenly flashed into his mind.

“He used to go out and deliberately let women paw at him, and instead of hiding any photo evidence he used to simply flaunt it, splash it all over Facebook. That’s why I de-activated all my social media until recently…”

“Fuck.” Frank groaned, shaking his head.

“Manipulation.” Steve said, his jaw set “He would never do anything with the girls but he made Lissy think he had and would then accuse her of being jealous, and paranoid. Was his twisted of getting her to come off social media, another way to isolate her, keep her in line.”

“She doesn’t think that’s what I was doing?” Frank looked at Steve, a horrified expression on his face.

“God, no.” Steve shook his head, “She knows you’re not that man…but Frank, as happy and as safe as she is, those scars are gonna be there for a long time.” “I know.” “And I know that the fact that ass hole could still be casting a shadow over everything you have, especially now he’s well out of the picture, is basically really shit, but…” “I should have remembered.” Frank shook his head. “But, well, to be honest I’ve never had to explain myself like that to any girl, let alone the one I want to spend my life with and I was so caught up in getting her to believe me, I didn’t even consider any of that. Looks like I just fucked things up even more.”

“She’ll come round.” Steve looked at him. “Just give her time.” “I hope you’re right.” Frank shrugged “Because if she doesn’t I’ll never forgive myself.”

****

Fliss groaned as she looked at the caller ID on her phone. It was Bonnie again.

“Fucks sake…” She grumbled, before answering, deciding to get it over and done with.

“Finally!” Bonnie said, “I’ve been so worried about you…”

“Look, Bonnie I’m really busy…”

“Just 5 minutes…hear me out, please.”

“If you’re gonna start pleading Frank’s case…”

“There’s no case to plead. Simon told me everything last night, apparently about 30 seconds after she’d perched on his knee Frank suddenly realised what was going on and told her to fuck off.” “Well he would say that, he’s his friend…”

“Oh come on Fliss…” Bonnie made an exasperated noise “First off I can tell when Simon is lying, and he wasn’t, and second off, do you really think Frank would cheat on you?”

“I’m sick of everyone telling me what I should and shouldn’t think.” Fliss practically snarled “I don’t have time for this.”

She cut the call and shoved her phone back into her pocket, her hand gently sliding over her bump.

“You know, people are only trying to help Titch.”

Fliss spun round to see her brother in the doorway to the office and she let out a groan “I thought you were over to do work…” “I am…meetings start tomorrow.”

“Right, well, go and find something else to do. I’m busy.”

“Don’t get shitty with me…” Steve frowned.

“Steve just…fuck off!” Fliss exploded “I can’t deal with…” she stopped and shook her head “Why can’t everyone just leave me alone.” “Because they’re trying to help.” he said softly

“Well they’re not.” she sniffed

“Titch…look at me.” Steve said gently and she raised her head to meet her brother’s eyes, her own watering with tears.  “Do you hand on heart believe he would cheat on you…seriously?”

“I didn’t…”

“So why do you now?”

“I don’t know if I do…it’s just those photos and…” “Fuck the photos.” Steve said, his voice a little sterner. “You know full well they never tell a full story.” Fliss swallowed as she looked at her brother, as he continued.

“Do you truly think Frank is the type of man who would, after everything you two went through, jump into bed with some tramp in Vegas whilst this pregnant fiancée is at home, looking after his niece?”

Fliss looked down at the floor, her tears falling down her cheeks.

“Because I don’t Liss.” Steve continued “Especially not now he looked me in the eye and said he hasn’t.”

At that her head jerked up and she frowned. “You went round?”

“Yeah.”

“Steve you promised not to!”

“No, I promised not to punch him. And I didn’t.” he shrugged, not a shred of apology in his tone. “I talked to him, asked him straight to explain to my face.”

“And you believe him?”

“Yeah I do believe him, completely. I think he was drunk, and at worst potentially indulged the girl a little over the days they were there, which, ok, he shouldn’t have done but at worst he’s guilty of nothing but allowing some 21 year old kid to flirt with him a little.  And if that’s a crime then, fuck, you better shoot me along with half the population now.”

Liss looked away, her brother’s words ringing in her head. Truth was they hit home. She had always been a flirty person by nature, it was just the way she was…well, had been until John beat it out of her. But Frank, well, Frank had never bothered about her talking to other men before because he knew she was his…

“Is this really about him, or is this all to do with that fucker again?” Steve asked.

Fliss gave a snort and looked up at Steve. “Can you read minds?”

“No, you just get this look on your face whenever you think about him.”

She stayed silent.

“Frank isn’t John” Steve spoke gently.

“I know that Steve…”

“So stop comparing the two.”

“I’m not.”

“Ok, really? So tell me honestly when you saw those photos your mind didn’t go to his party trick of being photographed with every girl he could manage to on a night out to rub your nose in it, whether he cheated or not?”

“I know that’s not what Frank was doing.” she shook her head. And she did, truly. Frank would never manipulate her like that but she would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about it, and how shit it made her feel “I just…”

“You’re waiting for something to come along and fuck everything up for you.” Steve said, looking at her.  “Which I get, I really do Titch because of everything you’ve been through but you need to stop looking over your shoulder and worrying about what you think is gonna happen, and simply look at what is, because if you don’t then eventually you’re just going to fuck it all up for yourself.”

Fliss turned away from her brother, his words cutting her to the core. He was right. She was, whether consciously or not, constantly wondering when her happiness was going to shatter around her because all she had ever known in a relationship was pain and anger. Some days she would wake before Frank and lie there, watching his face as he slept, committing every single detail right down to those freckles that spattered his nose and cheek, unable to believe how lucky she was. Engaged to a man who asked her to marry him because he loved her and didn’t merely want to possess her. She had a home, not a house, a surrogate daughter in Mary, days filled with laugher and happiness, and a baby on the way. It was a dream for most people, including her and she was perpetually scared one day someone or something would take it all from her. Just as they always had before.

“You know, Frank told me that he’s never had to explain himself to a girl before…” Steve gave took a deep breath “He’s now petrified that being honest with you has just made things worse. Doesn’t that tell you something?” Fliss looked at her brother, taking in his words. This was all unchartered territory for Frank too. What they were building together was new. He wanted it and more importantly he wanted it with her. As that realisation washed over her so did another one, the understanding that he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise what they have.

“Look, what the pair of you have is special. Don’t let something as stupid as this ruin it all because you both deserve better than that.”

The tears in Fliss’ eyes began to spill down her cheeks and Steve sighed, pulling her to his chest, gently rocking her to and fro, simply allowing her to cry.

****

When Fliss got home Frank wasn’t there, but there was a Pandora Gift Bag sat on the coffee table. Curiosity got the better of her and she undid the bag, opening the box inside. It was a small stroller charm and she swallowed, placing the box back in the bag. She heard the door open and turned as Frank appeared in the doorway.

“Before you ask…” Frank nodded at the bag in her hand “I didn’t buy you that as a sweetener. I got that in Vegas before any of this kicked off.”

“I didn’t…” she shook her head, placing it back on the table “That wasn’t what I thought.”

He gave her a nod and she studied him for a second, before Mary bounced into the room.

“Hey!” Fliss smiled at her, “You had a good day.”

“Yeah, it was ok.” Mary nodded “They were all doing math today but I did some of my uni work whilst they did the times tables. Have you and Frank made up yet?”

Liss hesitated and Frank gently dropped his hand to the back of Mary’s head.

“We talked, and we still need to talk some more.” he said “Any chance you can give us some space?”

She eyed him for a moment before she shrugged “I got homework, I’ll be in my room.”

“Thanks Stack.” he smiled and she turned and headed back out of the room. Once she was out of ear shot Frank turned to Fliss.

“So I had a visit from Steve…”

“I heard.” Fliss said “I’m sorry I told him not to.”

“He was just being a big brother.” Frank shook his head “But I’m not gonna lie, he scared the shit out of me.” “Well he came to the yard after, fighting your corner. As has Bonnie…”

“Honey, I didn’t ask them to…”

“I know.” she said softly. There was a moment of silence before she sighed and shook her head. “Frank, I’m sorry…”

“Liss…”

“Let me finish, please.” she shook her head and Frank fell silent, his hands falling into the pockets of his jeans. “If I’m honest I don’t think I ever thought you’d really cheated, I guess…well I saw the photos and…” she trailed off, shrugging “I’m sorry for not believing you, but I’m still pissed at you for getting yourself in that position in the first place.”

Frank hesitated for a second. He was about to protest that he was just drunk, point out that he hadn’t meant to get himself in any position at all,  but then he stopped himself. She was angry and hormonal, and he’d rather have her pissed at him for being an idiot than believing he was unfaithful.

So instead he nodded “Ok that’s fair. I get it. And I’m sorry.”

She looked at him for a moment and he stepped forward to give her a hug but she simply moved back a little and gave him a small smile “I’ll start dinner…”

“Sure…” his voice was quiet. He wanted nothing than to hold her in his arms, run his hand over the place his baby was growing, her bump seemingly even bigger than it had been that morning but he also didn’t want to push it. She hadn’t left, she believed him, but she was pissed. However, Frank knew she would get over that in time…which he understood he had to give her, and respect the boundaries she set too. So, with that in mind he took a deep breath and followed her into the kitchen.

“Do you want me to help or…”

“No, it’s only stir fry.” she shook her head. “Did you already feed Mary or…”

He frowned and looked at her, and then realised what she was referring to. They hadn’t been home when she arrived.

“Oh, no…I picked her up and then ran my suit into the dry cleaners.” he said “It had something all over the front of it…god knows what.”

She nodded. “Ok, well it won’t be too long.”

“I’ll set the table then.” he nodded. He moved around, careful not to step into her space as he gathered the various items around and carrying them into the dining room. Once he had completed that he headed out telling Fliss he was going to wash up and tell Mary to do the same.

Fliss acknowledged him and continued with cooking, when suddenly she felt a really strange sensation in her stomach. It was like a fluttering, almost as if she had bubbles inside her belly, and then she realised instantly what it was.

Their baby had moved. And she’d just felt it for the first time.

Pausing what she was doing her hand fell to her bump as the tiny little sensations flooded her and she felt a smile creeping over her face.

“Hey Bean…” she said softly.

At that point Frank came back into the room and saw her, her hand on her bump, stood perfectly still, looking down at her belly and he frowned.

“Lissy?” he looked at her as she raised her head to look at him “Everything ok?”

“Yeah, I just felt Bean move!” she smiled, her eyes bright and Frank let out a grin.

“Really?” he stepped forward, his hand out but he paused. Fliss looked at him and he locked eyes with her. Fliss understood instantly, he was waiting for her to say it ok after she told him last night not to touch her.

He was asking her permission.

Instantly her heart melted towards him, she loved this man, with everything she had. And he loved her. She gently took his hand and pulled on it softly, and he closed the distance as she pressed his palm to her stomach, leaving her hand resting over his.

“I doubt you’ll feel it…it was just like bubbles, not really a kick or anything.” she said as he looked down before he raised his eyes back to her “But they can hear you now though, according to Mary’s extensive research.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. Frank took a deep breath and knelt down, both his hands resting on the side of her belly as he grinned “Hey kid…you cooking well?”

Fliss felt the flutters again, a little stronger this time and she smiled, her hand running into Frank’s hair “They just did it again. They clearly know your voice, daddy.”

He glanced up at her, his eyes watering “I love you both so much.”

“I know.” she sniffed “I love you too.”

Frank stood up, his hands sliding up Fliss’ thighs to her hips and as he did, hers fell from his hair to his shoulders. They both stayed still, simply looking at one another till Frank leaned forward and gave her a soft kiss.

“This doesn’t mean I’ve completely forgiven you.” she muttered against his mouth and he smiled.

“I wouldn’t dream of suggesting it did.” he shrugged “But is it at least enough to get me off the couch? My back is killing me.”

“You wanna compare back ache?” she arched an eyebrow.

“No, no, not at all, obviously yours is far worse than mine could possibly be…”

Fliss narrowed her eyes. “Is that sarcasm?”

“Absolutely not.” he told her sincerely, shaking his head. His eyes, however, told her a different story. Those azure blues she knew and loved shone with humour, utterly betraying him.

“Hmmm, well I’ll think about it.” she said, her hands moving to pat his chest. “Now get lost, I need to finish dinner.”

Frank turned away, a smile on his face. As he always told Mary, an I’ll think about it wasn’t a no.

[axwalker]

Tears in heaven 7: Grief

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is about to get married but memories of her old life are coming back to haunt her.

Pairings: Liam x MC Drake x MC (TRR)

Warnings:   This is an 18+ blog.

IN THIS CHAPTER: CAR ACCIDENT, DEATH OF A CHILD, GRIEVING PARENTS.

 if you’re triggered by any of these issues, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS STORY

To catch up: Masterlist

A/N: The story will go back and forth between two different periods of time (2015-2019) 

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Songs inspiration: Tears in heaven by Eric Clapton

Thanks to @burnsoslow for so so so much. Not only she corrected my several English mistakes but she helped me with her feedback, and with Alexis’s letter and the horrible phone call she receives.I LOVE YOU  ❤️

Thank you @pedudley for beta reading, for ALL the feedback and for listening to my incessant whining while I was writing this chapter. I LOVE YOU  ❤️

November 2014 – November 2018

That Saturday had started like many others before. Drake woke up early to the sight of Alexis’s soft, bare skin next to him. He leaned over to pepper her back with lusty kisses. They were going to be apart the whole weekend, and Drake wanted to show his beautiful wife just how much he was going to miss her. Alexis woke up smiling and enjoying the jolts of pleasure that his ministrations always produced. Unfortunately, they both heard the voice calling them from the next room, suddenly interrupting their morning plans. Drake chuckled, resigned, as Alexis put on his Rolling Stones T-shirt. Twenty seconds later, Drake brought a sleepy Tom to the room with a book in his hands.

“C’mere, little man.” Drake placed him next to Alexis in their bed. Tom snuggled against his mother and gave her his favorite book as he did every Saturday morning. “I’ll go make us breakfast, Lexie,” he said and left for the kitchen after placing soft kisses on Tom’s and Alexis’ heads.

“Let’s see what you have this morning, Peanut.” She read the title out loud: “The Very Hungry Caterpillar. You really like this one, don’t you, hon?”

Tom nodded vigorously.  Alexis giggled and started reading as her son ran his little fingers over the drawings of the book.

When their reading was over, Alexis took Tom to his room. She went to the drawers to pick out his clothes.

“So, Shrek or Cars, Peanut?” she asked as she pulled out two different T-shirts from the top drawer.

“Shek!” Tom yelled excited.

“‘Shek’ it is, then,” she said, winking at him.

After a few minutes of chasing Tom around the room because he refused to wear his pants, they came down to the kitchen.

Drake chuckled at the sight of Tom wearing his green Shrek T-shirt with yellow pants and the cowboy boots Bianca had sent from Texas. His mother didn’t even know Tom. Those boots were the only gift she had sent him in three years, but Tom loved them.

“Bold choice of outfit, little man. Uncle Max will be proud.”

Alexis giggled. “He refused to wear anything else,” she said, placing Tom in his chair. “I can believe I have to work on a Saturday. I’m going to miss you two so much.” She pouted.

Drake was going with Tom to Ramsford for Savannah’s birthday. Alexis had gotten a job as the assistant to a renowned literary agent. She loved it, but it meant that she had to leave with her boss for the weekend to Portavira’s Book Fair.

Drake cupped her face before speaking. “You’re killing me with that sad little face. The weekend will be over before you know it. Tomorrow night we will be here waiting here for you, and we’ll have dinner ready. Do you want to cook with Dad, Peanut?”

Tom clapped with the spoon still in his hand, splashing strawberry yogurt all over the kitchen. “We make cake for Mommy!”

She took a kitchen towel and cleaned the mess, smiling at Tom’s vitality. “Well, if a delicious chocolate cake will be here waiting for me, I’ll be very motivated to come back as fast as possible.”

“I hope you’ll be motivated by more than cake, Lexie,” Drake said teasingly as he served them the food; he had prepared his Saturday special: Belgian waffles with Nutella and fresh bananas.

Alexis gave him a sultry kiss and whispered in his ear, “Finishing what you started this morning is definitely motivation number one.”  

Drake blushed. God, she loved him so much it hurt. “You look cute blushing, Mr. Walker.”

He chuckled. “I love you, Mrs. Walker.”

They ate and talked until Alexis’s phone beeped with a message. “Fuck, Drake! It’s Charlie; her car is picking me up in less than 10 minutes.”

Drake smirked. “A dollar in the jar, baby. And I’d like to remind you that you’re losing,” he added smugly.

Alexis stuck her tongue out at him, making Tom laugh. She took a bill out of her wallet and put it in the jar they had placed in the kitchen. They were both trying to stop swearing in front of Tom. Surprisingly enough, Drake was much better at it than she was.

After fetching her bag and coat, she sat on her husband’s lap, looping her arms around his neck. “I have to go -- please take care of our baby. I’m going to miss you two like crazy.”

He gave her a small peck on her nose. “Me too, Lexie, and don’t worry. We’ll see each other tomorrow night. Right, little man? Are you ready to have an adventure with your dad?”

“Yes, an aventure!” Tom exclaimed, beaming and making his parents laugh.

After saying goodbye to Drake with a deep kiss, Alexis took Tom out of his chair and bounced him around, making him giggle. “You behave, Peanut. I will be thinking about you,” she said, rubbing his stomach. “I love you so, so much, my baby.”

Tom placed his small hands on her face. “Me too, Mommy.” Her heart tugged when she put her little boy back in his chair. She was having more trouble than usual saying goodbye.

Drake smiled at the scene. He scooped Tom up into his arms, and they went to the door to wave Alexis goodbye as her car drove away.

Alexis worked hard that day; Charlie was a great but demanding boss. That night, she went to bed with The Goldfinch, Donna Tart’s latest novel. Tart was one of her favorite authors, but she was unable to focus on the story. Alexis finally closed the book and unplugged her phone. Scrolling through The Cordonian Times News website, she saw that a huge storm was about to hit Ramsford. She decided to call Drake.

“Hi, baby. How was the Fair?” he asked.

“Great! You know Charlie. She’s a shark. Three new writers will be signing their contracts next week.” She toyed with her ring before adding, “I just saw that it was rainy as hell in Ramsford.”

“Yeah, the storm is pretty shitty, but I’m a good driver, Lexie. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at Ramsford tonight? It’s safer. Please?” she insisted.

“Yes, I’m sure. But please don’t worry, baby. I’ll be careful,” he answered, smiling. She worried too much about them.

Alexis knew better than to insist; Drake was even more stubborn than her. “Fine. Is our Peanut having fun? Did you take pictures?”

“Yes, lots of pictures. I’ll send them when we hang up. He’s napping now, but Max and Liam played with him all afternoon. I swear, I don’t know which of the three of them was having more fun.” Alexis giggled, making Drake terribly nostalgic. “I miss you so much, baby. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

Alexis looked at the picture of them that she kept in her wallet. “Me too, Drake. And I’m glad that Tom is having so much fun. Tell him I love him with all my heart. I’m sorry he’s napping; I was hoping to talk to him.” She sighed, before adding, with a hint of worry in her voice, “Drake, please be careful. Don’t leave Ramsford if it’s raining too much.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll call you when we get there. I love you like crazy, Lexie.”  

“I love you like crazy too, Drake. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.” Both of them hung up the phone smiling.

Drake looked out the window. The storm had calmed down, but it was still raining. He decided to leave anyway; he was a good driver, and the cabin wasn’t far from Ramsford.

He secured Tom in his car seat and left.

They had been on the road for half an hour when Drake took a sharp curve. It happened in a matter of seconds: The wet road caused the Jeep’s tires to slide; Drake reacted fast and was able to regain control of his car.

But the car behind Drake’s didn’t react so quickly. The gray sedan crashed into Drake’s Jeep on the right side ... where Tom was sleeping.

Alexis had fallen asleep with her phone in her hand. She woke up and checked the time: 11:30.

That was weird; Drake should have called her by now. Alexis called Drake, but it went straight to voicemail.

An uneasy feeling took over. She called Savannah, who told her that Drake had left Ramsford around 9:30. She suggested that maybe they had arrived at the cabin and fallen asleep. Alexis thanked her and hung up. She knew Drake by heart -- he would never go to sleep without calling her first. She opened a bottle of water trying to calm herself. She was surely overreacting.

Suddenly, her phone rang, startling her: an unknown number. Alexis took a sharp breath before answering the call that would change her life.

“Hello?”

“Good evening. Am I speaking with Alexis Walker?”

“Yes, this is she.” Ice settled in her stomach.

“Mrs. Walker, this is Lynn from Ramsford Hospital. Your husband and son were involved in a car accident tonight. Are you able to come right now?”

Alexis couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. “Hello?” She swallowed. “Yes. I’ll be there. Are -- are they safe?” “Your little boy is in surgery. Your husband is being checked by a doctor. We’ll have more information when you arrive, Mrs. Walker.”

“Th-thank you.”

But the woman had already hung up.

Charlie insisted that Alexis take her car and driver. Alexis accepted and left immediately.  The questions and uncertainty were killing her. During the torturous four-hour drive, she didn’t stop bargaining. If they’re okay, I will never complain again. I promise, God, I’ll never take them for granted. If you let them live, I’ll come to church every Sunday. Every day. I swear. Please, God, just let them be fine. Please, I beg you.

Alexis arrived at Ramsford Hospital around 4:00. She had practically jumped out of the car and run to the reception desk. She saw Maxwell and Liam sitting in the waiting room.

“Where are they? How are they?” Alexis realized how hysterical she sounded, but she didn’t care.

“Blossom! Thank God you’re here! Drake is fine; he suffered a small concussion and some bruises, but he’ll be fine.”

Alexis nodded, terrified of asking about Tom. Maxwell took a sharp breath before speaking. “Tom has been in surgery for a few hours ... the doctor will come out with an update soon.”

She nodded again, feeling a sudden need to see Drake. “Take me to Drake, Max. Please. I need to make sure he’s fine.”

Drake was sitting on a bed in the ER with Savannah. His eyes were red and puffy. He had scratches and bruises all over his face and arms, and a doctor had patched up his head with a bandage.

Alexis ran to him, intensely relieved to confirm that he was okay. Drake stood up and hugged her tightly, his eyes tearing up again. Alexis had never seen her usually-confident husband in such a state of desperation. It scared her to death.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. He has been in surgery for hours.” His voice broke. “They won’t tell me what’s going on!”

Drake wrapped his arms around her; she sobbed against his chest for a long time, waiting for the doctor to come. After a few more hours, the surgeon and a young nurse entered the ER. Drake was facing the door, so he saw them before her. His heart stopped.

The doctor’s expression told him everything he needed to know.

Drake held Alexis tighter, trying to shield her with his arms for a few more seconds from the pain they were about to experience.

The doctor cleared his throat. Alexis turned her head, trembling, unable to breathe. He took his cap off and held it in his hand.

“I’m very sorry. We did everything we could, but-”

Alexis shook her head. “No, no, no, no!” She didn’t realize she was screaming. “Don’t say it! No! It's a mistake.” She turned to Drake, crying hysterically. “Drake, please tell me that Tom is ok. Please, my love. I beg you.”

Drake held her, but he was shaking himself; he felt his heart actually breaking. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry,” he said, crying. He was trying to calm Alexis, but his words had the opposite effect. She bawled desperately. Her heart seemed to pound even faster, even harder. She tried taking a deep breath to calm herself, but her breaths were sharp and shallow. Her vision got darker and narrower.  She heard Drake’s panicked voice as if he was talking to her from a long distance. She barely felt a nurse injecting a sedative into her arm … and then everything went dark.

Alexis woke up, and for a few seconds she didn’t remember. But when she opened her eyes, the sight of the fluorescent light in the ceiling brought everything back. Her heart broke all over again as it would break so many times in the future. Drake was sitting on a chair next to her. He hadn’t slept all night as his eyes stared at his phone, looking at Tom’s last pictures. He heard Alexis moving on the bed, so he went to sit next to her and took her in his arms. She hid in his chest and cried again while he soothed her, rubbing her face with his fingers. Alexis couldn’t believe that she would never see her little boy again. It simply couldn’t be true.

“I want to see him.” Her voice was trembling.

“They were waiting for you before … before taking him. Let’s go.” He helped her out of bed and called a nurse who took them to see Tom one last time.  

Those last moments with their son were the saddest moments of Alexis’ and Drake’s lives. Alexis refused to let go of him until a nurse gave her another sedative.

Alexis spent the first four weeks after Tom’s death sedated. She went to his funeral, but she wasn’t really present. Drake took care of everything with Savannah's and Liam’s help. After the ceremony, she went back to bed and lay there for hours staring at the ceiling. The pills had the side effect of making her feel empty and numb, but at least the pain in her heart was silent. Drake fed her and took care of her during that time.

After Tom’s death, nothing seemed to matter anymore. Drake’s emotions were a mix of sorrow, emptiness and desperation. The “what if”s were going to make him crazy with guilt. He tried to use alcohol to drown his shame and grief, but it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

Five weeks after Tom’s death, Alexis heard a noise in the middle of the night. She got out of bed and found Drake crying in Tom’s room. Her heart tugged seeing him so broken. She sat on the floor next to him and hugged him. They held each other for hours, crying for their son.

From that day on, Alexis started to get out of bed. She stopped taking the sedatives and promised herself that she would try to fight for herself and Drake. It worked for a couple of days, but soon the mere effort of waking up in the morning was exhausting. Everything was exhausting. Alexis did it anyway. She’d wake up, take a shower and go to Tom’s room. She only meant to spend a couple of hours there, but once she went inside, she wasn’t able to leave. And more often than not, the whole day passed with her crying there, incapable of doing anything else.

Drake was destroyed too. Tom had been the light of his life. Sometimes he felt like a sunken ship.  

During the second month after his death, they shared some afternoons where they’d cuddled against each other in front of the fire without speaking, just trying to cope with the deep pain. Those few stolen moments were Drake’s and Alexis’ solace. But they were unable to really communicate, to speak of the bubbling feelings beneath the surface.

Without the pills, Alexis’ mind wasn’t foggy anymore. She felt a deep, breaking pain in her heart and a colossal rage circulating through her veins. At first, her bitterness was directed at God, at life, at fate. But soon, Alexis started to be angry at Drake, too. She tried with all her heart to stop those feelings, but she couldn’t. Drake had chosen to drive in the middle of the storm, after she had asked him to stay in Ramsford. And that had cost her son his life.

Alexis didn’t want to hurt him or to add to his guilt, so she started to avoid him as much as possible. It didn’t work. Drake’s way to cope with his own grief was to take care of her. He truly believed that their love would be enough to keep them together, and for a fleeting moment, Alexis had believed it too.

The rage that Alexis felt for him began as a small spark, but it had soon turned into a burning fire that scared her. She was distant and cold and did everything she could to drive him away.

Drake tried his best to make her feel better. He had even suggested visiting a counselor or joining a grief group. The same Drake Walker who hated to share or talk about his feelings was willing to do it for her. They went once, and it was a disaster. Drake had tried to share a memory of Tom, but the words simply didn’t come out. Alexis had brooded and scowled the whole time.

Alexis felt like she was going to explode with all the emotions she was feeling. She became rude, evasive. She ended up moving into the guest room. Drake was desperate; he tried to make her understand that he loved her, that he needed her.

It was the three-month anniversary of Tom’s death. After yet another sleepless night, she went to Tom’s room. She lay in his tiny bed and cried all day. Drake tried to comfort her, to hold her. But she had chased him away, more haunted than ever by his brown eyes. That night, she had come down to the living room and saw Drake drinking. Alexis sat next to him and poured herself a big glass of whiskey. She gulped it, poured herself another one and gulped it, too.

“I can’t do this anymore, Drake.” Alexis was crying wholeheartedly.

Drake sighed as he looked at her. She had lost 10 pounds and looked tired, pale, extremely depressed. It was the first time since they had met that he didn’t dare take her into his arms. “We need to get help, Lexie.”

Alexis scoffed, “Do you mean like that amazing support group you signed us for?”

For three months, Drake had tried to be supportive and patient. But he felt lost and tired;he didn’t know what to do anymore.

He gulped his tumbler of whiskey before he answered, “I’m doing what I can to help you, Lexie. But you won’t let me. I want us to fight this together.”

Alexis balled her fists. All the feelings that had been accumulating for the last months were threatening to explode.

“I don’t need anyone’s help.” She felt like burning inside. “Especially not yours.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Alexis?” Drake stood up next to her.  

When she finally answered, her voice was trembling with fury. “Why?”

“What do you mean?” Drake asked, puzzled.

Alexis’s eyes filled with tears. “Why did you have to come back that night? Why couldn’t you listen to me? I told you it was raining, I told you it wasn’t safe.” Something dark and dangerous had taken over her, and she couldn’t stop. “But no. You always have to be right, so you couldn’t do what I asked. And now he’s dead. MY SON IS DEAD because you’re too fucking stubborn.”

Drake raised his voice, too. “OUR son, Alexis. TOM was OUR son. I miss him just as much as you do. Stop acting like you’re the only one who lost him.” He sighed to calm himself. He raised a hand to touch Alexis’ face, but she dodged it. “You have no fucking idea how it feels when I try to get close to you and you reject me every goddamn time.”

Alexis tried to wipe her tears with the back of her hand. She answered, furious, “Can’t you understand that looking at you fucking hurts? Every time I see your eyes, I see him. And it’s driving me crazy. It breaks my heart every single time.” She took a swig of whiskey to calm herself, but it didn’t help. “You can’t help me; you’re actually hurting me.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re drunk,” Drake stated, pointing at her glass.

“Yes, I am drunk. But that doesn’t change the fact that it hurts so fucking badly, Drake. Why? Why did you do it?” She shoved him.

“Stop!” He grabbed her wrists. He couldn’t believe what she was implying. “Stop it, Alexis!”

She was bawling, agitated. She wanted to take the weight of her emotions off her chest, so she yelled at him without thinking. “You killed him! You killed our son, and I will never be able to forget that.” As soon as she said it, she regretted it. But it was too late.

Everything went silent for a few seconds. Drake’s mouth went dry. His heart stopped. Every time her eyes darted when she looked at him, or every time she flinched when he touched her, he wondered if she blamed him for the accident. But until that moment, he had refused to actually believe it.

Letting go of her wrists, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and his glass. He spoke with a gravelly voice. “You’re drunk, I’m drunk. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Alexis swallowed her tears so she could talk. “No, Drake. I’m very sorry for what I just said. You have no idea how much, but I can’t do this anymore. I’ll be gone in the morning.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Drake went up the stairs. The weight of her words oppressed him. He lay down on the bed and tried to drink his pain away.

Alexis stood in the middle of the living room hating herself for hurting him. She didn’t want to feel so angry at him, but the rage was stronger than her. She curled up on the couch and cried for a long time -- for her son, for the horrible pain of missing him so much. And for Drake, for the man she loved so desperately but was unable to forgive. Alexis needed to leave, to flee from their house, from the grief. She prepared a small bag with some clothes she had in the guest room. Before leaving, she went to their room where Drake was sleeping heavily after finishing the bottle of whiskey. Crying again, her heart broken, she kissed his forehead and muttered a sad good-bye. She took off her wedding rings and set them on the nightstand. Drake needed to understand that she wasn’t going to come back for a while.

When she arrived at Maxwell’s loft, she took her old sedatives from her bag. Now that Alexis was away from Drake, she didn’t need to fight anymore. She was exhausted from pretending that she wanted to be alive. So she took two pills with a glass of water and finally fell asleep.

For almost two days, thanks to the sedatives, Alexis didn’t do much besides sleeping and waking in a fog to drink a bit of water. She was exhausted after all the sleepless nights she had had since her son had died. Maxwell checked up on her regularly, but he let her rest. On the third day, he entered her room with a steaming cup of coffee.

“Here, Blossom.”

Alexis grabbed the cup and took a sip. “Thank you, Max.” Her eyes teared up.

Maxwell sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. “What happened with Drake, Blossom?” he asked, concerned.

“It was my fault. I’m so angry all the time, Max.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I tried not to be -- I really did -- but that night, something snapped. I said horrible things to him. And the worst part is that I love him so much, but I can’t stop feeling like that.” Her lip quivered. “I didn’t want to hurt him like I did. I swear, Max. He looked so broken.” The memory made her cry again.

“Calm down, Blossom. You need to talk to him. Even if it’s a painful conversation, you need to talk. Drake has called several times since yesterday; he’s worried about you. I’ll take you back to the cabin.”

Alexis was utterly confused. She didn’t know if their relationship could be saved. She didn’t know if she would be able to overcome her bitterness. But she still loved him with everything in her, and she owed it to Drake and herself to at least try.

“Thanks, Max. I’ll take a shower and then we can leave.”

When Alexis arrived at their cabin, everything was silent. With a huge lump in her throat, she went upstairs. Drake was gone. He had taken some clothes, photos, and her wedding rings. Alexis sat in their bed and cried for everything she had lost. The next day, she left the cabin and rented a small studio with her savings. After that day, her grief became more and more difficult to bear.

Drake woke up the morning after the fight feeling dead inside. His desperation only got deeper when he discovered that Alexis had disappeared, leaving her wedding rings on the nightstand. Drake spent all morning trying desperately to find her, until Maxwell finally answered his phone and told him that Alexis was at his house, that she needed time.

During those two days, Drake called Alexis several times, but every time, Maxwell told him that she was sleeping. Drake knew that it was a lie; Alexis barely slept more than a few hours a night. He thought about going to Max’s loft but dismissed the idea. It was pointless to force her.

Her words replayed in his head over and over again. Looking at you fucking hurts. It breaks my heart every single time. You’re actually hurting me. You killed my son. Drake felt the weight of his guilt crushing him

Forty-eight hours later, Alexis hadn’t contacted him or answered his calls. With her wedding rings wrapped in his hand, Drake realized that it was time to accept that she had really left him. He couldn’t stay there. He was going to die if he had to keep living alone in the cabin where they had been so fucking happy. Alexis was everywhere. Tom was everywhere. The next day, he tried to call her one last time, but she didn’t answer. Drake didn’t insist anymore. He left for Spain, destroyed. Before getting on the plane, he called Liam to ask him to take care of Alexis; Drake knew his best friend wouldn’t fail him.

After three hellish months in Andalucía, Olivia had called him to tell him how desperately depressed Alexis was. Drake immediately tried to fly back to Cordonia to be with her, but he had only found tickets for the next morning. That single night changed everything. Drake had been arrested and sent to prison. He asked Bastien and Savannah to keep his secret because he didn’t want to worry Alexis or distract Liam from helping her.

Drake felt desperate knowing that he couldn’t help her himself. Savannah and Bastien visited him often, but no matter how much he insisted, they never talked about Alexis. Drake sensed that they were hiding something, but it wasn’t until his release that his sister had told him the truth: Alexis had been committed to a clinic after she had tried to kill herself.

Drake didn’t lose any time and jumped on the first plane back to Cordonia to be with her. Sick with worry, Drake didn’t even go to his house to leave his bag; he had gone from the airport directly to the clinic.

When Drake had seen Liam at the hospital, he was relieved to confirm that his best friend had kept his promise; Alexis hadn’t been alone. Liam had known nothing about his stay in prison, so Drake wasn’t surprised at his best friend’s cold reception. The only thing that mattered to Drake at that moment was Alexis. Seeing her again had been the only thing that had kept him alive.

Drake would never forgive himself for all those months that Alexis had been forced to fight her depression alone, without him there to help her. If she gave him another chance, Drake would spend the rest of his life showing her how much he regretted it, how much he loved her.

Liam had asked him to come back the next day. Apparently, Alexis needed time to get used to the idea of seeing him again. Drake accepted willingly. He was desperate to see Alexis, but her recovery was the absolute priority.

But the next day, things didn’t go as he had hoped.

“You left a broken woman, Drake. She has been in hell, depressed and missing you for months. You have no right to come back and burst into her life, now that she’s finally doing better.” Liam cleared his throat. “She told me she doesn’t want to see you anymore. I’d say I’m sorry, but frankly, I agree with her decision,” Liam said, taking an envelope from his jacket and giving it to him. “This is the letter she wrote to you before she tried to kill herself. I didn’t read it, but I know she was desperate. Seeing you again will trigger her and probably set her recovery back months.  If you still want to see her after you read this, call me, and I’ll talk to her. But for Alexis’ sake, I really hope you won’t insist anymore.”

Drake sat on a bench and opened the letter.

Drake, my love,

Before anything else, I beg you to forgive me. For all of it: blaming you. The words I said. This.

I blamed you for the accident and I drove you away.

It was never your fault. I knew that all along.

And now? I have nothing. There is nothing without him. I have walked through the last seven months in a fog of desperation, and I can’t do it anymore.  

I don't even want to try.

Please move on. Live your life. Be strong the way I cannot be.

It is what he would have wanted.

I have always loved you, with everything in me.

Your Lexie

Drake sat on the park bench and read her letter several times. It was devastating. Picturing her grief, her pain, in his mind was hard enough. But having to face it, having to read firsthand how broken the love of his life had been, was more than Drake could handle.

In spite of what Alexis said in her letter, Drake knew that Tom’s death was his fault. He was also aware that Liam was lying. Drake was sure that Alexis didn’t know that he was looking for her. But Liam was right; after all she had suffered, nothing was worth jeopardizing her recovery for -- least of all him. Drake hadn’t even gone back to his cabin that night. He went to the cemetery first to visit his son’s grave. Then he left directly for the airport, headed back to Spain.

His first year back in Andalucía had been a nightmare. Until then, Drake had stupidly clung to the idea of seeing Alexis again. She had been his motivation to stop drinking, to get help from the prison counselor. Her face was the last thing he saw before falling asleep every night. After all that hope, Drake had a rough time accepting that he had lost her forever.

For a few months, Drake went back to his old bad behaviors and heavy drinking. But one night, reading her letter for the hundredth time, he realized that Alexis was right. Tom would have wanted him to move on. Drake couldn’t continue to hide behind his grief anymore. He suddenly felt the urge to fight for himself. Little by little, he tried to get better. He couldn’t practice as a veterinarian in Spain, so he took a job in a stable training horses and moved out of Bastien’s house into his own apartment. And most importantly, he stopped day drinking.

Drake knew himself; he was never going to love another woman as he loved Alexis. Some nights, he’d go out, meet a beautiful woman, and they’d have fun together, but it never went further than a good night and breakfast.

One afternoon, he met Yolanda at the stables; she was a veterinarian too. Yola, as her friends called her, was a short brunette with pretty green eyes and a wide smile.

Something about her made him think of Alexis. Yolanda wasn’t as sunny as his Lexie, but she was beautiful, funny and smart. Like Alexis, she seemed to love life, and that was contagious. They dated for a few months, but Drake soon realized that he was only trying to replace Alexis with Yolanda, and that wasn’t fair to her. He ended the relationship before her feelings became too strong and resumed his life of endless one-night stands.

Drake’s life was finally back on track when he had received the news of Alexis and Liam’s engagement. It had been a complete shock. In the past, Drake had suspected that Liam was in love with his wife, but he would never have imagined that Liam’s feelings were reciprocated. Drake was well aware that Alexis had every right to rebuild her life, to fall in love. He knew that it was his own fault that Alexis hadn’t even tried to call him and give him the news herself, but the rage was still there. During the weeks that followed, Drake couldn’t avoid the horrible jealousy that was threatening to eat him up. He kept picturing them together and it drove him mad. Until one day, talking to Savannah, he realized that it was time to let Alexis go.

For three years he had lived as an exile in Andalucía so Alexis wouldn’t have to see him again. But she was clearly over him now. Maybe it was time to come back. Drake missed Savannah and Bartie, his country and his veterinary career. So he decided to stop fleeing. He wanted to see Alexis again and make sure she was all right. After that, they’d sign the divorce papers, and he would finally be able to move on with his life.

However, when he saw Alexis again, all of his good resolutions went out the window. Drake had felt angry and jealous seeing Liam’s diamond ring on her finger. In the weeks that followed that encounter, Drake had felt unstable and confused … until the last day at the coffeehouse.

April 2019

Alexis left the coffeehouse frustrated and angry at herself. She couldn’t believe that Drake’s touch was still capable of making her feel that nervous. She got in her car and started the engine. After all that time and the tears that she had shed trying to forget about him, she had finally done it. And she was not going to go down that path, not ever again. To love someone as passionately and as intensely as she had loved Drake wasn’t right or healthy. It was painful and heartbreaking. His departure had nearly killed her. Alexis was aware that Drake had left because of the hideous things she had told him, but she still had waited for him for years, convinced that their love for each other would make him come back. But it didn’t. And now, she was happy again. Liam made her happy. He was sweet, kind and smart. A great lover. He accepted her shortcomings, her traumas. Alexis couldn’t ask for more. She refused to let Drake disturb her life. Whatever feelings she was having for him again, was surely due to their lack of closure. The only thing that should matter to her now was her engagement to Liam. They were going to get married in a month. Liam deserved nothing less than her fidelity and devotion.

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

Drake was shaken after his encounter with Alexis at the coffeehouse. Even hours later, he could still feel her skin on the tip of his fingers. He sat with a whiskey in his hand, thinking about her reaction. As stupid as it seemed, he was sure that Alexis had felt the same powerful electricity that he did. They still shared their old chemistry, even when they had fought at Savannah’s party; it had been heated, passionate. He savored the malty liquid burning his throat as he thought about how gorgeous she was. For the first time since he had seen her again, Drake allowed himself to freely think about her -- her beautiful dark eyes, her soft features, the way she flicked her hair. The old sparkle of her eyes was still there; it was hidden behind a shadow of sadness, but it was still there. That afternoon, Drake had had to actively stop himself from kissing her.

There was no point in lying to himself any longer; he was still desperately in love with Alexis, even more than before. Drake admired her new strength, her determination to fight in spite of the pain. He missed her sarcasm, her sense of humor, the way she always put him in his place. He was as captivated by her mix of sweet vulnerability and intense fire as he had been 10 years before. God he had missed her so fucking much all those years. Drake was destined to love Alexis for the rest of his life.

However, the last thing he wanted to do was to disturb her life. So Drake made a decision. If Alexis was truly happy with Liam and her new life, as much as it killed him, he would sign the divorce papers and leave her alone. Even if that meant that he’d have to spend his life loving her from a distance. But if he discovered that she still loved him too but was too scared to admit it -- if there was a chance that he could still save his marriage -- Drake wasn’t going to leave without fighting for her.

PERMATAG:  @ac27dj @twinkle-320​ @kimmiedoo5​ @marshmallowsandfire​ @loveellamae​ @burnsoslow​ @mskaneko​ @pedudley​ @lauzales​ @pug-bitch​

TEARS N HEAVEN: @ao719​ @yukinagato2012​ @kingliam2019​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @texaskitten30​ @cordonia-gothqueen​ @bebepac​ @nomadics-stuff​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @cordonianroyalty​ @msjr0119​

[busterkeatonfanfic]

Chapter 3

The third glass of whiskey at lunch was a miscalculation. He felt a little too unsteady on his feet as he walked into the barber shop set and they weren’t filming any pratfalls today, so he couldn’t play it off as that. He put an extra stick of chewing gum in his mouth just in case the first stick and brushing his teeth hadn’t concealed the smell of the drink on his breath, and tried to keep his gait steady. At least he’d be sitting for most of this scene.

Reisner was fussing over the props with the workmen, telling them some sign wasn’t straight. “Buster, where do you want these?” said Bert, gesturing to the barber chairs where he and his girl were destined to reunite. “Do you want them farther apart than this? Closer? Or what?”

Buster shrugged and sat down in one of the chairs. “They look fine to me. Maybe a little closer.”

“I mean, are the cameras going to have enough room?”

“Bert, they’re fine,” he said. “Move them a little closer together if you want. You know I trust you.”

Bert nodded and wrestled the other chair forward a few inches. As he wrestled, he said offhandedly, “You sure scared Nelly, didn’t you?”

Buster had no idea what he was talking about. “Nelly?”

“The prop girl, Nelly.”

“I’m not following.” Behind him and to the side, men bustled lighting into place. 

“The new girl I’ve got in the prop house. I sent her to ask you about the chairs. She looked like a ghost when she came back.”

A second ticked by, then another. Then another. He still wasn’t—

Realization landed like an oversized prop anvil. “Ah, hell.” 

“What?” said Bert.

“That was your prop girl?”

“Yes. What did you say to her to make her look so white?” Bert gave him a knowing look. 

“Nothing!” Buster said. He’d been acting and ad-libbing his whole life and he wasn’t about to stop now. “She got a little tongue-tied and I filled in the blanks. Thought she was coming to ask for her big break in the movies, you know how they corner me about that stuff. I must have embarrassed her, I guess.”

Blame that third glass of whiskey. It had made him dopey and loose, thrown off his judgment. There was a feeling in his stomach right now that he didn’t like, a sizzling sense of shame. It was a feeling that hung around too often these days in one form or another and he was getting sick of it. It wasn’t his fault. Nine times out of ten when there was a woman under the age of forty in his dressing room, she was already naked or willing to be. The other times, it was the age-old hard-luck story about needing a break. He’d had perfect reason to assume both motives. It wasn’t his fault.

The shame niggled. Oh yes it was.

He tried not to dwell on the fact that he’d insulted the girl’s looks on top of it all. In truth, there was nothing wrong with them. She looked fine, just not suited to pictures was all. With the whiskey freeing his tongue, he’d thought nothing of answering honestly. Now the terrible coarseness of his remarks was apparent.

The shame went on niggling him until the cameras began rolling and he lost himself where he always lost himself, facing down the cameras with a stone face. 

By the time she’d gone to bed, Nelly’s humiliation had invited a friend along: anger. She knew that men were frequently cruel, licentious, and crude, but she’d never thought in a million years that Buster Keaton could be counted amongst them. All of it was a damnable lie, the wife and the children and the sophisticated parties, and most of all the sweet trepidatious Buster of the films. He wasn’t Rudolph Valentino’s Sheik or John Barrymore’s Don Juan, not her favorite character or star in other words, but she’d always found him charming; what girl didn’t? She had to wonder—were they all like this? Did Valentino have a nightly habit of robbing women of their virtue? Did Barrymore delight in dressing down girls until they felt about as small and as low as a bug? 

She rolled onto her side fitfully, fuming. It now seemed like a mistake to come to California. Perhaps it was just better to turn tail and go back to Evanston rather than spend another day in the employment of a man who had belittled her ambitions and her looks before she had a chance to get a word in edgewise. She could maybe work herself up to a couple starring roles in local productions, retire at the height of her career, marry, and host garden parties and luncheons for the Women’s Auxiliary Club just like her mother and aunts. Of course, the thought wasn’t a serious one. She was being paid a handsome twelve dollars a day, far more than she’d ever earned as a part-time governess in Evanston. She’d swallow her pride, finish out the picture, and use the experience as entrance into another picture, maybe not a laugh feature next time.

She let a fantasy of John Barrymore rock her off to sleep. Although she’d never seen him in Hamlet , she’d clipped a picture from the production from a magazine and glued it into her scrapbook: dark clothing, brooding brow, those strong hands that could clutch a girl and make her swoon. After Steamboat wrapped up, she’d return south to Hollywood and finagle her way onto the United Artists lot, where she would be cast as Katherine to Barrymore’s Petruchio in Taming of the Shrew . The last thought in her mind before she drifted off was of Barrymore’s big hands tearing the blankets off of Kate as she lay in bed, declaring them unfit for such a woman as his wife.

  The memory of what he’d said to the prop girl bit at Buster like a flea all the next morning. As soon as the cameras stopped rolling, his traitorous mind would wander to the incident and he’d be reminded unpleasantly of what a low thing he’d done. He stuck to one whiskey at lunch, even though he would have preferred a second. He tried calling Nate at the Villa, thinking that hearing her voice might provide some kind of consolation. The phone just rang and rang, until finally Edwin picked up and told him she was with Dutch.

At last, his conscience pricked him so much he left his dressing room early. He peeked in the canteen and cheers of “Buster!” erupted from the extras and the crew. He gave them a wave of acknowledgment and left. The girl wasn’t there. He exited and headed toward the prop house. Feeling slightly shy in addition to remorseful, he swung open the door when he got there. The prop girl didn’t notice him over the sound of the radio. She had her back turned to him at the workbench and was crunching an apple and reading a book.

“Hello,” he said. 

“Jesus Christ!” she said, nearly startling out of her skin and whipping her head around.  

Her swearing made him feel better. In his experience girls who swore could take care of themselves, which meant that maybe he hadn’t crushed her underfoot like a flimsy petunia blossom.

She blanched when she realized who it was. “Oh. Mr. Keaton,” she said. An expression resembling dislike settled on her face. 

He couldn’t blame her. He crossed the room and swung himself onto the workbench, dangling his legs. “I insulted you yesterday,” he said, studying her face. Despite the dainty little mouth she’d drawn on with lipstick, she couldn’t hide the fact that her lips were full. Her brown hair was done up in earphones in a faux bob. She reminded him a little of Evelyn Nesbit. Now that he had a good look at her, without the glaze of whiskey, he doubly regretted what he’d said about her looks. 

She stared straight ahead, expressionless, the apple forgotten in her hand. She still seemed a little nervous around him, but there was a set to her jaw that told him he was not going to be forgiven easily.

“There’s baseball practice tonight at seven. You’re invited,” he tried.

She finally met his eyes. “I have plans.”

“Okay,” he said, conceding. “You’re angry with me. I get it. Look, I was out of line yesterday. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for opening my big fat mouth. I was way out of line.”

She merely looked at him. 

“I acted disgracefully. There’s nothing wrong with your looks. I never should have said anything, I never should have—” He couldn’t bring himself to mention that he assumed she’d also been looking for sex. “I’ve been out of sorts lately and, look, I won’t start making excuses. It was wrong, plain and simple. I made assumptions and I shouldn’t have. What’s your name? Nelly?” he said, pressing. He wasn’t going to let up until that flea he called his conscience stopped biting.

“Nelly,” she confirmed in a flat voice. 

“Let me make it up to you, Nelly. Do you want to be an extra today? I’ll ask Bert to give you the afternoon off.” He could almost see her internal struggle. She set her half-eaten apple on the workbench and folded her hands in her lap. “I don’t want any favors,” she said, staring ahead.

She was a proud one. It should have annoyed him, but he found himself admiring her stubbornness. Anyway, he had a lot of practice in Natalie cracking tough nuts. He hopped off the workbench and sank to one knee, propping supplicating hands on her knee. “Please?”

She drew in her lips and he could tell she was trying not to smile. Ah, sweet victory. 

For his pièce de résistance, he broke into song. “ I can hear the robins singing, Nellie Dean. Sweetest recollections ringing, Nellie Dean .”

Nelly succumbed to the smile. “Alright,” she said, shaking her head and trying to hide it. 

“Good,” he said, getting to his feet. He crossed the room and poked his head into the area where all the costumes were stored. Although the film was ostensibly set fifty years ago, all of the women’s costumes were of the latest fashion. He thumbed through the rack and pulled out a few dresses halfway before selecting a pink sleeveless one embroidered with burgundy flowers. “Wear this,” he said, walking back into the main room and handing it to her.

She looked surprised. “Are you sure?” Her eyes told him she still didn’t trust him. 

“Of course I’m sure. Go dress and I’ll walk you to the set.”

Looking now as though she especially didn’t trust him, she nonetheless went into the costume room and closed the door behind her. She came out less than a minute later. She looked just fine—maybe not like a leading lady—but just fine. The shame nipped him again and he scratched it off, reminding himself that he was making it up to her.  

“Sure you don’t want something nicer for the shoot?” he said, noticing that she was wearing flat brown Oxfords.

“Oh, they’re fine. I don’t suppose the cameras will be anywhere near my feet.”

When he stepped closer to her, it clicked; she was a couple inches shorter than she’d been yesterday. He’d made her embarrassed of her height and she switched shoes. It was another reminder of how rotten his words had been. No taller than he was, she was certainly not a giant. He even had an inch on her, give or take. 

“Do I need to put on more makeup?” she said. 

He shook his head. “No, you don’t need to wear any if you’re in the background. We have to do it to stick out,” he said, indicating his powdered cheeks. 

“Alright then.”

“Hold on a minute.” He ripped a piece of paper from a steno pad on the workbench and wrote, Stealing Nelly for the afternoon. Will return her in a timely fashion. -Buster. He set the half-eaten apple on top of it for a paperweight and offered his arm to Nelly. She just stared at it and then at him. “I’ll walk you to the set,” he explained.

She continued to look unsure as she accepted it, but his conscience felt much lighter as they left the prop house together. 

The bright lights agreed with Nelly. They probably wouldn’t have appeared particularly bright to any proper budding starlet, but that Buster had made her an extra for a day, that she would actually be on film and tens of thousands of people would see her, was exactly what she’d been hoping for when she’d taken a train from Evanston to West Hollywood to Sacramento. 

It turned out that being an extra involved a lot of standing around waiting for direction while the cameras tracked the exploits of the main characters, namely Buster and his mouse-sized co-star Marion, whom everyone called Peanuts. The scene was about missed connections; Buster, encountering his girl on the street, tries to apologize to her. She ducks in and out of the telegraph office, debating whether to accept, then follows after him as he trudges away from her.

Peanuts needed the benefit of multiple takes. Buster was flawless, Nelly thought, in every one. Her role was to be one of the town inhabitants walking down the sidewalk. It was hot in the early afternoon sun and she was grateful that Buster had picked out a sleeveless dress for her. She tried to act casual while strolling back and forth and not get distracted by the action further down the sidewalk where Buster and Peanuts were.

After the scene had wrapped, the director and Buster moved onto the next one: Buster walks dejectedly up the street and a car whizzes his carpetbag out of his hands and onto its running board. She and the other extras gathered in a small crowd facing the car to watch. Behind the scenes like this, she began to see how the gags were accomplished. For this one, the camera tracked Buster on the left. When the car came into frame, it obscured most of his body. Because of this, the audience couldn’t see one of the actors in the car pluck the carpetbag from Buster’s hand in one fluid movement, which left him bag-free and bewildered after the car had passed. The hand-off was invisible. This scene took only a couple takes. Buster was all business in between, telling the other actors and the director in a serious way what he thought the scene should look like. It was all so fascinating to finally be on the inside and see the nuts and bolts. She watched carefully, trying to commit it to memory. 

For the next scene, the carpet bag was meant to tumble off the running board and trip up Buster, who was running at top speed after the car. It took around three or four takes for the bag to fall satisfactorily into Buster’s path. Each time it did, he would somehow tumble head over heels to miss it. The first time he accomplished the stunt, the extras hooted and broke into clapping. Buster flashed a quick smile, clearly pleased, and Nelly joined in the applause. No matter how many times he vaulted over the bag, going briefly vertical, she couldn’t tell how he did it. After that, it was back to the sidewalk for her even though she was too far in the distance, she thought, for the cameras to see her at this point.

After some time had gone by, Buster announced that it was a wrap. So that was that. She looked around at a couple of the other extras for guidance, wondering what came next. The logical thing to do would be to return the dress and finish out the rest of the day in the prop house, so she decided just to slip away rather than reveal herself as a rookie by asking. As she turned at the corner near the facade of the Western Union Telegraph building to take a shortcut, the sound of hurried footsteps made her look over her shoulder. It was Buster. The extras turned to look at them as Buster came to a stop. Nelly felt herself pale a little as she faced him. For all her bravery in the prop house earlier, she was still far from used to him.

“Coming to practice tonight?” he said, a little out of breath. 

She was surprised. She’d assumed that the invitation earlier had been flippant. “I can’t,” she said, before she had time to think about it. She had a hard time reading the answering expression on his face, but she thought it was puzzlement. “I have plans.”

However thrilling being an extra had been, part of her had not forgiven him. When she’d stepped back and looked at her torso in her bureau mirror that morning, all she could think about was his comment about her bosom being too big and her needing to lose twenty pounds. The words still felt like salt in a bleeding gash, even if he clearly did wish to make it up to her. Anyway, she wasn’t fibbing about having plans. She’d agreed to play blackjack with Joe and Maggie, the owners of the house on 22nd Street, that night. 

“Well, alright then,” Buster said, with a nod. “I’ll see you around.”

“Sure,” she said, feeling an upwelling of all sorts of emotions: regret at turning him down, pride at her own resolve, anxiety that he might decide to can her if she continued to rebuff him. “Thank you for letting me be part of the picture.”

“No problem.”

She nodded at him and they parted. 

The worst of the confused feelings had faded by eight that evening when she was at the leather-top folding table with Joe and Maggie in their sitting room, regaling them with stories from the day. By now, they knew that she was employed in the prop shop and not as an extra, so the fact that she really had been an extra that afternoon was of the utmost interest to both. She went over every detail, keeping back, of course, yesterday’s ignominious encounter with the picture’s star. As the conversation waned and they settled into the game of blackjack, she felt positively luminous. Not even Mary Pickford, she thought, could feel as famous as she did tonight. (Watch Steamboat Bill, Jr. here.)

[marvelhero-fics]

Silent Britain

Series - Chapter One

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You and Tom are working as love interests in a new Scorsese film, essentially leading to be love interests in real life

A/N: This is technically chapter one! Thanks for all the support on the prologue I'm glad heaps of you enjoyed it! I also wasn’t really planning on doing a taglist for this fic but a lot of people requested to be on it so I ended up making one (it’s below the cut at the bottom). If you’d like to be on it just send me a message or leave a comment on pretty much any Silent Britain post. Thanks for the support again!!!!!!

This chapters a bit of a slow-burn but next chapter get much more interesting. Please go read the prologue first, this chapter will make much more sense if you do. It’s linked down below in the masterlist. 

The italics in this story are the readers thoughts!

Word Count: 3,800

Silent Britain Masterlist || Full Masterlist 

And there goes the explosion. “I need to pull over. I’m about to have a stroke.”

The next two weeks truly flew by. You were partly happy, because you couldn’t wait to fly out to California and meet everyone, but it did also heighten your nerves. You did as much research as you could about Britain in the 70’s, even taking time to go see your grandparents who were conveniently alive at the time. But, by their description of the decade you could tell they must’ve been on some crazy drug back then, I guess that’s a pretty big tell of what the 70’s were like anyway.

“I promise you’re gonna do such an amazing job, I’m always just a phone call or text away if you need me, (Y/N/N).” Evie sung, pulling you into the tightest embrace.

“I know, Eve. I’m gonna miss you so much.” You pouted. To make life a little easier for yourself, you’d decided to fly out to California and stay there until production started, which was set to be in about a month. That way you didn’t have to fly there, then home, then there again, considering it was a twelve hour flight, and God, you hated flying.

“You are going to be incredible, my darling girl.” Your mum stated, giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She knew she wouldn’t be able to see you for a while so she’d come over to send you off.

“Thanks mum. I love you heaps and I’ll call you when I get there.” You were incredibly close with your mum. She had always been such a huge support system for you and your career, you always credited any success you had to her.

And with that, you were in the car being driven to the airport.

~

The twelve hour flight had taken your physical and mental battery down to about 0. Even up in First Class all you did was read your script over and over, and panic. As well as getting some time to watch The Departed, one of Scorsese’s incredibly well done films. Unfortunately, instead of enjoying it, you essentially studied it. Fortunately, you got to use your ‘Taxi Driver’ notebook. Is this slightly obsessive? You studied how DiCaprio and Nicholson delivered their lines, and how often the sets changed, and all the camera angles. God, you’re purposely trying to freak yourself out now.

Touching down in California was nice. The first thing you really noticed was the heat. It was July, so it was the middle of summer, and in California it got hot. Of course, you weren’t complaining, this meant nice air conditioning on set, as well as good weather to work with in production. Yea, that would be the only thing I think about.

An older looking gentleman stood at the arrival gate with a sign that read (Y/L/N) in bulk letters. You quickly went over to greet him. Lazily, you strolled out to the large SUV, trying to get as much time on your feet as possible after the long flight. You’d seen photos, and heard horror stories of actors being mobbed at airports, with fans even waiting at the arrival gates all day to catch a glimpse of their favourite celebrity. That never happened to you, but you tried to be much more thankful than jealous. Large crowds weren’t really your forte.

“How was your flight, Miss (Y/L/N)?” Your driver politely asked, turning on the engine of the car.

“It wasn’t too bad. It just felt super long,” you chuckled, sluggishly.

“Well, at least you’re back on solid ground now.” He smiled through the rear-vision mirror.

“Yea, very happy to be. Out of curiosity, are you picking up any other members of the cast?” You peered up, knowing this man likely worked for the studio.

“Indeed, I am. I picked up Jude Law yesterday morning, and Daniel Craig and Rachel Weisz last night.” He responded,

“Huh, and what’re they like?”

“Well, Mr Law was very friendly, we ended up chatting most of the way to the hotel. And Mr Craig and Mrs Weisz seemed lovely, but I didn’t talk with them very much. They were a little more closed off.” He continued, you simply nodding to his words, “And I believe I’m picking up a Mr Holland much later tonight.”

“Oh, right. Busy day for you then.”

“Well, it’s just the usual.” And with that, you stopped talking. Your mind wandered off the small talk. God almighty, it’s gonna be a fucking long night tonight. You thought, simply just processing all the things you knew you had to organise before tomorrow. The ride to the hotel didn’t seem like a very long one, or maybe it was? Maybe you’d zoned out to an entire different reality and didn’t notice time passing, either way you made it to the Four Seasons and checked in with no trouble at all.

It was pretty much exactly what you’d expect from the Four Seasons. A small, spacious living area, with a large, grey L-shaped couch, and a big-screen TV. A small kitchen to the left, that you’re sure wouldn’t be able to make more than a bowl of pasta. A bedroom off in a separate room, with a bed that was far too big for one person. And an Asylum-white bathroom with a bathtub that was going to make your stay here much better. Looks like this is home for the next month. Being apart of the Hollywood scene, you got kind of used to hotel rooms becoming a second home. The amount of time you spent essentially having to tour around California for filming, staying in different hotels with similar-looking hotel rooms just became second nature.

First point of action; now that you’d touched down and gotten comfortable, was to call your mother. She’d slowly figured out how to worry less about you, now that you were older and had figured your life out a bit more, but she was still always going to be a mother.

The phone only rang twice before she picked up. “Hey, mum.” You greeted,

“Hi, love! I’m glad you’re safe and well, how was your flight?”

“Long. But the hotel’s really nice.” You responded, letting your body fall back onto the king-sized bed.

“Did you watch any movies?”

“Yea, I watched The Departed.”

“Oh, that’s a bit of a grim film, love.” Your mum stated, being as motherly as ever.

You chuckled a bit, “wait until you see the film I’m about to be in.”

“Did you get any sleep on the plane? And how was the food?”

“Yea, the food was really nice, it was like a salmon and couscous thing. And no, I didn’t really get any sleep, but I didn’t really try too, I kinda had a lot of other things to do.” You spoke.

“Well, you need to make sure you get some sleep tonight. And you let me know if you need anything at all!” Your mother conveyed

“Thanks, mum. And I promise everything is going fine, I’m fine. And I’ll let you know how the cast meet up and rehearsals go.” You returned. And with her best wishes, your mother hung up. That left you lying there, your body slightly sunken into the soft mattress of the Four Seasons bed. Almost every celebrity you’d met had told you to not search your own name on the internet. They always told you you’d find some very unfavourable things, but if you didn’t go looking for it you wouldn’t find it. So with that excellent mentality, you searched your name.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N). It took only seconds to type and click enter. The first article talked about the upcoming film. I guess the news already broke. It was probably leaked purposely for publicity, you didn’t care either way.

Upcoming Scorsese Film to have Star-Filled Line Up, Signing Hopkins, Hardy, Bale, and (Y/L/N). Being called a star was quite nice. It always shocked you just a little bit, knowing that people knew your name. Knowing that you’d actually become news. This is what you’d wanted for a long time though, to be a movie-star. You read further into the article.

‘Scorsese’s latest film to centre around 1970’s British Mob family, the Bakers. No news on the initial release date, however official members of the cast include Tom Hardy, Anthony Hopkins, Christian Bale, and (Y/N) (Y/L/N).’ The article showed photos of the four of you, including a photo of Scorsese. At least they picked a nice picture.

‘If this mobster film is anything like we’ve seen in the past from Scorsese, we can expect a stunning and vivid look at the ugliness and volatile nature of true Gangster films. Potentially even a few Academy Awards if Scorsese continues his war-path of masterly crafted cinema.’ You even chuckled at that last line, the Academy Awards. You’d attended the Emmys last year and that was the highlight of your life. If you were at the Oscars you’d probably spontaneously combust. You flicked your phone off and threw it to the other side of the bed, lying patiently in the quickly setting Californian sun. Am I supposed to feel this overwhelmed? You simply sat with your thoughts for a few moments, knowing that nothing was going to be the same after this film. Martin Scorsese essentially started Robert De Niro’s career in Taxi Driver, same with Jodie Foster. Not to mention Al Pacino’s career starting in a 70’s gangster film too. Each of these actors now being multi-award winning, millionaires. I don’t think I could function being that famous.

Once you’d finished basking in the glory and horror of it all, you sorted out your clothes from all of your luggage, and headed to bed. It was probably still too early to be in bed, but you’d had no sleep on the flight and just wanted to rest, especially for the chaos of tomorrow.

~

That all-too-familiar noise of your phone alarm ripped you back into consciousness. Surprisingly, you’d slept like the dead last night. You thought the panic and nerves would’ve kept you up, or disrupted your sleep, but thankfully it was actually very peaceful. Wonder how long that’s gonna last. Everything you did during the morning was mechanical. Having a shower, getting dressed, doing your hair and make-up. It was all just simply going through the motions while your mind ticked away. You tried to remember every part of the script, while also going over today’s encounters. Am I supposed to act like a fan of these actors? Or do I act super cool? Like I don’t care?

Your gaze rested upon your figure in the mirror. Wearing a casual pair of jeans, a regular t-shirt, with your favourite Nikes. Along with bits and pieces of jewellery that fitted. Do I look too plain? Like one of the million assistants on set? Was everyone else going to be dressed up? What sort of cast meet up is this? It was 9:00 am, so regardless of your racing thoughts, you didn’t have any time to change. You grabbed your hand-bag, script, and note-book and went downstairs to get into the car the studio had sent, and with that you were on the long drive to set. Neither you or the driver talked to each other, you partly blamed yourself for not initiating conversation. Your mum would’ve been upset with you. ‘No matter how famous you get, my darling, you’re not allowed to look down on others. You can never think of yourself as better than others. You’ll always be a regular person, who makes mistakes, and does great things. Always, always be kind.’ She’d always lecture you. God, you’d kill to have your family here with you.

The SUV pulled up to the lot, getting access to the private area where the meet-up was happening. You made sure to thank the driver before you met up with a shorter, plumper lady, who obviously seemed like she was expecting you by her greeting.

“Welcome to the studio, (Y/N). My name’s Angela, I’m the production manager for Silent Britain.” She spoke, the Californian accent very prominent in her voice.

“Nice to meet you.” You responded,

“It’s nice to meet you too, if you could just follow me, I'll take you to the room where everyone’s meeting.” She said with a smile.

“Sounds good.” Angela walked you to the huge garage-type room. Well, it wasn’t actually a room, it was just an empty stage on the lot. The 12 ft tall garage-like door was open to let natural light illuminate it. It was full of people, most of whom you’d never seen in your life. Everyone from the special effects men, to the boom mic operators, to the assistant director were packed in. Luckily it was a huge area. Angela told you to follow her further, taking you to a separated room down the other end of the stage. This was the room full of actors. God, we’re pretentious. Needing a whole other room to ourselves. Not only did it have the main actors, it had quite a few background actors. Which, admittedly, you were slightly thankful for. If it was just the main actors you’d be the least famous person in the room, and that’s never the best feeling.

Angela let you know that the meeting would be happening very soon. By meeting, she essentially meant the presentation about the film, and how production was going to work and such. And with that flow of information, she left. Leaving you to fend for yourself in a room full of actors.

Who the fuck am I supposed to talk too? Why does everyone seem to know someone already? “Hiya!” A loud, high pitched noise rang behind you. You turned on your heel to see a slightly shorter girl with long, wavy brunette hair.

“Hi?” You returned, not sure if she was mistaking you for someone she knew.

“I’m Allison.” She introduced, extending her hand out.

“Oh, right. I’m (Y/N).” You smiled back, shaking her hand.

“Yea, I’ve actually seen you in quite a few films before. It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Wow, I’m really not used to actually being recognised.” You somewhat laughed, feeling some of the tension leave your shoulders.

“You’re playing the lead role in this film though, aren’t you?” She queried.

“Yea, Elizabeth Baker. I’m still not entirely sure how I landed that. Do you mind if I ask who you’re playing?” You responded.

“Of course! I’m playing Donna, which is one of Lizzie’s school friends.” She explained. It was only a very minor role, with maybe one line of dialogue. But she seemed happy enough to be here.

“Oh, well, thanks for introducing yourself. Now I’ll finally know someone on set.” You joked.

“Do you not know the other actors already?”

“Honestly, no. I haven’t really had the chance to meet anyone yet.”

“You should go over and introduce yourself. You’re the lead role! And maybe you could introduce me to some of them.” She laughed, trying to slightly play off the words she just said. Ah, lovely. Someone trying to use me to their advantage.

“Hm.” You simply smiled. “I think I’ll just grab a coffee first, then maybe I’ll socialise.” You added, taking almost no time to venture away from her.

You moved towards the small tables set up with coffee, tea, water and small snacks. You couldn’t help but notice the divide in the room. There was the big-time actors to one side of the room, and the lesser-known, mainly extras to the other side. You also couldn’t help but notice that you stood on the extras side of the room. In the moment you didn’t particularly care. You spent time fiddling away with the sugar packets, not even making a coffee as you thought about your next move. You needed to go introduce yourself, to at least one person you were going to be acting beside. But who were you supposed to choose? I bet Daniel Craig wasn’t this nervous introducing himself. Fuck, I wouldn’t be if I was James Bond.

Without thinking past James Bond, you walked over to the ‘A-list’ actor area. Fuck it, I’m the greatest. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet me. You repeated, entirely trying to sike yourself up. Daniel Craig, Michael Fassbender, Christian Bale, and Rachel Weisz stood in a small group, chatting amongst themselves. Oh, this is definitely the most threatening group. You thought, diving straight in.

“Hi there,” You interrupted, “I just wanted to introduce myself, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You spoke, confidently. Good thing I’m such a good actor.

“Nice to meet you,” Michael responded, his Irish accent thick as he spoke. Daniel, Rachel, and Christian all introduced themselves after, breaking into a conversation about Martin Scorsese.

“I actually haven’t had the chance to meet him. Not properly at least.” You stated, referring back to your audition were you simply spoke in front of him, without him engaging in much conversation.

“He’s great. He’s incredibly intelligent at what he does, but he is really fast paced. He seems to constantly be thinking about the next thing to do.” Daniel began speaking, “But try not to be nervous, he’s pretty good at sensing nerves.” He smirked. Awesome.

“As if the cast wasn’t intimidating enough.” You joked, earning a chuckle from the group. The five of you continued to discuss past acting experiences, and working together on other films and such, with yourself not having much to bring to the conversation. Simply being happy enough to stand with these four god-like actors.

Angela seemingly appeared out of nowhere in front of the crowd of actors, earning a hush amongst the group. She began by thanking everyone for being here, and introducing herself once again as the production manager. She explained the outline of what was going to happen, and when production was due to start, most information of which you’d received in emails earlier. All and all, it was a very quick meeting. I guess it was more about getting to meet everyone. Angela finished her statement and the crowd sparked conversation again, most of the background actors dispersing off. As you were about to say your goodbyes, a smaller, younger gentleman walked up to where you and your newly formed actor friends stood. He handed each of you a small envelope.

“These are from Martin, inviting you to dinner with him tonight. All the information is on the letters. Please RSVP as soon as possible.” He stated, scuttling off to the next group.

“The theatrics,” Christain stated, waving the envelope, “that’s very Scorsese.” He finished.

“Who was that kid?” You asked Michael,

“Would’ve been Martins PA, probably.” He replied, opening his letter. You shrugged and opened yours. The beautiful calligraphy hit you first, each letter individually addressed to each actor. By the looks of it, the main cast of about 12 of you were invited, along with the higher up crew members. It was being held at his property in Hollywood. Well, this should be fun.

“I guess we’ll see you all there.” Daniel stated, earning a cheer of goodbyes from the rest of you as him and Rachel walked off.

“I better head off too,” You smiled, leaving Michael and Christain behind you as you strolled towards the door, continuing to read over your letter. The handwritten note occupied so much of your thought, that you’d forgotten to look where you were walking. All of a sudden, you were stumbling straight into someone's torso. The first sense to hit you was the scent, the only way you could think to describe it was the smell of the wealthy. It was an incredible cologne that you could only imagine A-listers would wear.

“Sorry, love.” His voice sung, the thick British accent very apparent. His larger hands came up to grab your shoulders, steadying your body. His grip was firm against you arms. You could feel the heat of his hands through the thin material of your shirt. You couldn’t help but notice the veins slightly bulging from his tanned forearms. You face moved up so your gaze aligned with his. Brunette curls, light brown eyes, glowing smile, a jawline that looked like it was carved from stone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was walking.” You awkwardly laughed as Toms taller frame stood right in front of you. Do not freak out.

“Don’t worry about it.” He responded, “I was meaning to come meet you earlier, but I got a little caught up. I’m Tom, by the way.” He added, his grin not leaving his face. Yea, I fucking know.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N).” You replied, politely.

“Yea, I’m actually a bit of a fan. I’ve seen some of your work in the past, I’m really glad you got this role.” He added.

“Oh, wow. I thought we we’re going to play it cool, but I’m a huge fan of yours too. I love all the Marvel stuff.” You broke out of your ‘big-time actor’ persona. He chuckled at your comment.

“I see you got an invite, too.” He pointed down at your letter, holding his in his hand too.

“Oh yea. Have you ever done this sort of thing before? Like this whole dinner with the cast thing?”

“Yea, a few times actually. Robert Downey Jr loved doing this stuff for the Marvel cast.” He returned, “with the directors, and the crew and everyone.”

“Right, well I’ve never done all this before. It’s pretty crazy.”

“Yea, I know. The cast of this movie is fucking insane. I’ve never seen so many stars in one room, honestly.” Tom acknowledged. “You seem like you’re holding it all together pretty well.”

“No, I’m just a really good actor, internally I’m absolutely freaking out.” You stated in a joking manner, earning a laugh from Tom. I mean, it’s true.

“That’s great practice for the film them.” He replied, his eyes looking deeper into yours. You could almost feel your knees turning to jelly.

“I’m so sorry to leave you stranded like this, but I really need to get back to my hotel and sort my shit out for this dinner tonight.” You spoke, truthfully.

“Oh, yea. I should probably go do the same. I guess I’ll see you there.”

“Yes, you will. It was really nice to meet you, Tom.” You expressed, your hand moving to rest against his bicep as you cocked your head with a smile. He returned the good-bye and you waltzed out of the stage. Your heart was pumping in your throat and you had to bite down on your lip to suppress your awfully huge grin. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.

Taglist!

@averyfosterthoughts​ @loxbbg​ @musicandbokkslovingweirdo​ @yourwonderbelle​ @iamanerdnot @kayceeeveeee​ @autty0314​ @poorlittlesuperstar​ @rebeccamckirgan99​ @xherosxvillainsx​ @rachaeldonnaspiteri1​ @hollands-osterfield​ @shambhavi-sethi​ @a-phan-of-youtube​ @theobssessiveweirdo​

A line through your name means it wouldn't let me tag you!

[hongism]

finding beauty in your darkest places chapter 5

Pairing: TBA (i have no clue at the moment, ot7 for now)

Genre: Psychiatric Clinic!au, Heavy Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 8310

Warnings: strong language; deals with mental and emotional illnesses and disorders as a heavy theme of the story, future graphic depictions of disorders - please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable

Rating: PG-13/Mature

Summary: Everyone has their issues, and everyone deals with them differently. Jungkook thinks that avoiding his problems is the best option out there.

aka

Jeon Jungkook is the newest patient at the Omelas Specialized Psychiatric Clinic, and he just wants to get in and out as quickly as possible so that he can go back to university and be with his friends again. Of course, that doesn't work out according to his plan.

a/n: to the dearest person who said in the survey that they just want hobi to be okay, I'm crying ;-; that’s the purest most wholesome thing ever. also i’m sorry in advance :/

Chapter:

4 | 5 | 6

Finding Beauty in Your Darkest Places

Chapter 5: Falling in a White Room

After almost two weeks, Jungkook can still say with utmost confidence that he despises white rooms. There lies a suffocating stillness in the monotonous walls, and he would rather be anywhere else if he had the opportunity. Alas, he has nowhere to go, especially now as the clock is drawing nearer and nearer to 11:27. His hands won't find a suitable resting position, either gripping his bed sheets or sweatpants in a tight grasp, and the ever growing pit of uneasiness in his stomach continues to nag at his thoughts. He cannot tell whether the anxiety surrounds the danger of getting caught tonight or having to face you again after the argument that passed in the afternoon.

"You are nothing but a means to an end."

That line hasn't left Jungkook's thoughts since it tumbled from your lips, but he has no intention of forcing it out of his mind either because it serves as some sort of cruel reminder. Maybe a reminder that he overstepped a very clear boundary, or that he's gotten too comfortable in only two weeks at the clinic, or even that you aren't a friend to him — not even close. Friends have the luxury of knowing things about each other. You have drawn the line between any possible sort of friendship he could have with you. So yes, Jungkook knows that he is nothing. Nothing but a means to an end to you, and nothing to everyone else in the clinic. That's life, isn't it?

"Jungkook? You there?" Jimin is the one to cut Jungkook free from the confines of his thoughts, bringing him back to the reality of the dimly lit room. Jungkook looks up and finds Taehyung's and Jimin's stares from where they sit on Taehyung's bed. "I asked if you wanted to join the next game." Jimin motions to the playing cards on the bed before him, and Jungkook shakes his head before he finishes speaking.

"Sorry, I'm not feeling it right now." Jimin shrugs, gaze lingering on Jungkook's fidgeting form for a few more seconds, and then redirects his attention to Taehyung.

"You know that Miyeon is getting better?" He asks, and whilst the question is not meant for Jungkook, he listens in anyways.

"Oh?" Taehyung lowers his cards a bit but remains more focused on the game rather than Jimin's attempts at conversation.

"Eunbi was telling me about it after dinner. She said Miyeon hasn't thrown up in over three weeks — a new record for her — and she seems to be in a much better mood nowadays."

"Now that you mention it, I kinda noticed that. Well, the mood part at least. Do you think...do the doctors think she's doing well?"

"Hm? Oh apparently so. Miyeon told me that they've given her a lot more privileges and are letting her go out more. If this keeps up, then she could be gone by the end of the month. Two months at the latest, I'd say." Gone by the end of the month… All that talk about how patients stay for such a long time, and yet now we're talking about someone leaving? Seems so strange.

"Do you really think so?" Taehyung voices the surprise Jungkook feels. "I mean, it seems kinda early? Soon? She's only been at the clinic since the beginning of the year." Nine months? That's not nearly as long as everyone claims it to be. I wonder…maybe I can get out that quickly too? Jungkook's knee begins to bounce up and down on its own accord, leaving the bed to squeak along with the movement. Both Jimin and Taehyung glance in his direction.

"Sorry," Jungkook mutters, then presses his palms against his knees to keep them from moving any more.

"It's early, yea, but she's been on top of her medications and appointments. Everything is going well for her, and she really seems to want to get past this so it makes sense that she's managed to do so well in such a short amount of time." Jimin pauses to heave a deep sigh, eyeing his cards with pursed lips before continuing with his train of thought. "Eunbi isn't ready for her to go though. She says she doesn't know what she'll do if she has a room to herself again."

"We can help keep her grounded for awhile! If it gets too bad, that is."

"Miyeon has become the one to reign her in and bring her back to reality whenever an episode hits. You can't just replace someone like that at the drop of a hat."

"At the drop of a hat? What does that mean?"

"Ah, it's just a saying, Tae. What I'm trying to say is that it's like your bear. We can't just give you a new one and expect you to be okay." Jungkook bites down hard on his tongue, and even though he knows both Jimin and Taehyung are aware of your intentions to sneak around at some point, you specifically told Jungkook not to breathe a word. I just wanna say that it'll be alright. I want to tell him that we're going to find it tonight. For reassurance only, but I can't even do that. Jimin continues speaking without hesitation, unaware of Jungkook's sudden panic and rigidness on his side of the room. "It would be great if the nurses could move someone into her room, but there isn't anyone who would be willing or able to."

"I'll miss Miyeon if she does go," Taehyung admits as he drops the cards to the bed. "She always humors me when I wanna talk about something random and laughs at my jokes too! Unlike you." He pokes his tongue out at Jimin, who scoffs back.

"They aren't funny though. She's just being nice!" Taehyung ignores Jimin's retorts, returning with a sigh much like Jimin's earlier one.

"Won't it be weird if she goes all the sudden? I've gotten used to her being a part of our group." Jimin merely hums in response. Jungkook glances down at his watch, eyes chasing after the second hand that ticks around in its methodical, rhythmic circle on its trip. His hand is unstable, a tremble taking hold of his whole arm from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers, but Jungkook focuses more on the time rather than the shaking of his hand.

"It's past eleven. Won't you get in trouble for not being in your room by now?" He inquires, question directed towards the man he stares at now, and Jimin responds by pushing his tongue through his lips and poking the corner of his mouth. He rolls his eyes as he looks up at Jungkook.

"The last thing I wanna do now is go back to my room. I seriously can't stand living with Yesung, especially after Y/N slapped him. I swear, it feels like we've been living with each other for one week and not over a year now. We butt heads most of the time already, but it's hell during a switch." Jimin drops the cards held in between his fingers and shrugs before saying, "I may as well go back before the nurses make it to my room though."

"Oh, did Yesung only get here a year ago?" Jungkook asks, interest peaked at the information Jimin presented.

"Nah, he came over two years ago but moved into my room when Hoseok arrived at the clinic. He needed a room to himself, according to the nurses, and I wasn't in a position to argue with them."

"Why weren't you roommates with Taehyung? That seems like a logical decision given that the two of you are friends."

"I'm sure they would've paired us up if they had the chance to, but I already had a roommate when Tae arrived. Not much of an opportunity there." Jimin shrugs once more, tucking the cards together until they form a neat stack, then passes the deck over to Taehyung. As soon as he has his hands on them, Taehyung begins reorganizing all the work Jimin did to make them neat. He sets them out on the mattress again, only to pick the cards up one by one in perfect order based on number and suit and color.

"How long have you been at the clinic then?" Although the question leaves his lips with great hesitance, Jimin meets his inquiry with a quick shake of his head. Jungkook almost thinks that he's telling him that he's asked the wrong question and to drop the topic, but Jimin starts speaking again and melts Jungkook's worries. He taps his chin, one short index finger against the smooth expanse of skin there. A laugh cuts through the silence surrounding them.

"It doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Oh, y-yea sorry for asking. I shouldn't have pried."

"I don't mind, don't worry. It's more that I don't particularly like broadcasting the length of my stay here. Part of me feels a bit ashamed about it because no matter how hard I try, I can't get better. As happy as I am for Miyeon for getting better and doing well in such a short amount of time, I can't help but to feel bitter because she's doing what I can't do. Despite all our similarities, I can't do the little things she has been able to achieve in only nine months. Allowing others to know how long it's taken me just to make the minimal progress that I have…ah never mind. It's too late for this! We don't need such serious talk at this hour. Goodnight Jungkook, goodnight Tae!" Jimin hops off Taehyung's bed without another word, making a beeline for the door and whisking out of it before anyone can stop him (neither Taehyung or Jungkook really make an effort to however). Once the door snaps shut, Taehyung and Jungkook find themselves in another lingering silence. After a few minutes of Jungkook watching Taehyung sort the playing cards and tuck them away in the drawer of his end table, Taehyung breaks the quiet with a drawn out sigh.

"I feel terrible for Jimin. Don't tell him I said anything to you, but…I wish there was more I could do for him. He's always putting me first and trying to do things for me but never looks out for himself. I wish he would let me help too." Taehyung thumbs the material of his linens, tugging at the sheets without direction, then flips over to turn off his desk light. "I'm gonna go to sleep. I don't feel good right now." Jungkook watches the man crawl under his sheets through the dim yellow light of his own lamp. Taehyung places his back to Jungkook, and the bed creaks as he tries to settle into a comfortable position.

Jungkook still has over twenty minutes to kill before it's time for him to meet with you, so once he's certain that Taehyung's breathing is steady enough for sleep, he tugs the journal pressed between his mattress and the bed frame out. Flipping to Jimin's designated page, he quickly begins to scribble down all the new information, including new pages for Eunbi and Miyeon.

The sound of the door sliding open startles Jungkook out of his reverie, pen scraping a bit too roughly across the page and leaving an ugly black streak through the words. He jerks his head up to see who stands in the doorway. It's Nurse Irene, who is accompanied by an unfamiliar young nurse.

"Mr. Jeon and — I'm assuming Mr. Kim is asleep already?" Nurse Irene speaks in a loud and clear tone, no care about the fact that Taehyung is trying to sleep only a couple feet away from where she stands. Jungkook nods in response, pressing his journal closer to his lap and attempting to hide it from view as best he can. "Good. Sleep well, Mr. Jeon. Remember the rules." Nurse Irene's small monologue is a routine one, something she says every time she comes by to check the room at night, so it shouldn't come as a surprise to Jungkook. Yet the fact that he actually is planning on breaking the rules tonight sends a surge of panic through his system, and he looks away from the nurse before she recognizes the sudden panic on his features. The door shuts again a moment later, and Jungkook is in the clear. At least, clear enough to return to his musings over his journal and review all the work he added to the ink-marred pages. His peace and quiet doesn't last long, and before he knows it, there is another noise at the door — a series of sharp raps this time. Jungkook glances at his watch, and a string of curses leaves his lips as he drops his journal and shoves the pen somewhere between the pages then rushes to get to the door as quietly as he can without disturbing Taehyung. He doesn't check to see who is standing on the other side, because he already knows and he is well aware that you are not going to be happy to see him.

"You are fifteen seconds late." You grip Jungkook's sleeve and spit the words out between gritted teeth. He barely has enough time to slide the door shut before you are tugging him down the hallway.

"I-I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Sorry doesn't give us more time! I specifically told you two and a half minutes was all we had. Now you've wasted thirty seconds and kept me waiting."

"Ah, you're being too loud!" Jungkook tries to keep his voice down. "Taehyung is trying to sleep." You pause at the revelation, and Jungkook sees worry flash across your eyes through the darkness. You shake away the emotion and turn away, hand dropping from his sleeve. Jungkook chases after you, struggling to make out your form against the darkness. "Do — do you have a flashlight? I can barely see."

"It's not that dark, you'll be fine." You retort and follow it up with a scoff that seems to echo through the hall. "Are you scared of the dark, Jungkookie?"

"What? No! I can't see well and have no clue where we're going. It's not like I know my way around here in the dark."

"Shh, people are trying to sleep. Just follow the sound of my voice if you think you'll get lost." Jungkook trails after you, and his eyes slowly become more adjusted to the darkness. Ah, I forgot to turn my lamp off. I hope that doesn't keep Taehyung up. He watches your back, being sure to not let too much distance grow between the two of you, and as silence takes over, his mind revisits the argument you had earlier in the day. And, of course, that little nagging comment which refuses to leave Jungkook's mind.

"You are nothing but a means to an end."

Nothing. He doesn't bring the topic up again — partially because he's concerned you might repeat what you said with more vehemence, but also because he can't even tell whether you remember it or not. Did she really mean what she said? Was it just a defense mechanism to protect herself? Jungkook gnaws on the inside of his lower lip, pinching the skin there until it breaks under the pressure of his teeth. When the metallic taste of blood touches his tongue, he stops and lets it coat the inside of his mouth as though it will prevent him from saying anything he might regret. Does she even feel sorry for saying those things?

Jungkook doesn't have the opportunity to continue down that train of thought because you've stopped and are bending over a door handle. He listens closely to the series of clicks and noises that come next, a few curses muttered from your lips slipping in on occasion, then the door swings open with a bit too much force and hits the wall with a bang. You huff and straighten your back, a cocky smirk spread across your lips that Jungkook can only see because your teeth are reflecting what little light there is. You step into the laundry room first, hitting the light switch as you go and filling the room with light that hurts to look at.

"That would've been a lot easier if we had thirty extra seconds of time." The backhanded comment stings as much as the open wound in Jungkook's mouth. He frowns and avoids looking at you. "Lighten up, Jungkookie. We have a job to do."

"Won't the cameras catch the light coming from here?" Jungkook redirects the conversation in hopes of changing the topic, and you take the bait.

"No, the cameras don't cover the laundry room or outside the door. They're mainly for checking the hallway with all the bedrooms and other areas where patients would be. The laundry room isn't exactly a place where we should be, so they didn't bother to put cameras over here." Why did she worry about us getting here so quickly then? Jungkook pushes that thought aside in favor of joining you by the dryers. "Um, go through all the dryers. I'll start looking through the clothes bins and cabinets." Jungkook does as asked, opening the dryers one at a time to search for Taehyung's bear.

"What does the bear look like?"

"It's just a typical stuffed bear, looks like any other one you'd see in a store."

"Why can't you just get a replacement or give Taehyung one of the other stuffed animals you have in your room?" Jungkook pulls his head out of one of the dryers to look at you over his shoulder.

"I can't just 'get him a new one', Jungkook. I gave Taehyung this specific bear for a reason, and giving him a new one won't fix anything."

"I'm confused still."

"And I'm not sure what you want me to say."

"I mean, Jimin said something similar earlier but it didn't make sense then either."

"I can't make you understand."

"Yeah, forget it." Jungkook huffs and moves onto the next dryer. You and Jungkook continue your respective searches in silence, neither bothering to attempt conversation again. Jungkook double checks the dryers again after his initial run-through but still comes up short on finding the bear. He looks back in your direction, watching as you dig through the same bin of clothes he saw you start with. "Any luck?" He asks and shuts the dryers.

"No. I can't find it. Did you see it in the dryers?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I double checked and everything."

"Let's switch. You go through the bins and cabinets, I'll check the dryers."

"Y/N, we already looked through them." Jungkook presses his palms against his knees and pushes himself up to stand straight.

"Maybe we missed something." You spin on your heel and go for the dryers, but Jungkook grabs hold of your arm.

"It's not here. We should go check the kitchen because looking over and over again won't help," he urges, motioning towards the door.

"We must have missed something."

"No, Y/N. It's not here. Please, can we go to the kitchen now?" Jungkook moves for the door, stepping a bit into the hall and pulling you along with him. You keep looking back to the laundry room even as Jungkook turns the lights off, as though the bear will somehow miraculously materialize while you stare but it doesn't.

"Whatever," you mutter once Jungkook shuts the door. "Let's just go." You run a hand through your loose hair, avoiding Jungkook's gaze. He follows your lead and walks a few feet behind you as you make your way to the kitchen. It is equally dark there, but you don't go for the light switch this time. "The cameras will catch it if we turn the main lights on. I'll get the pantry light instead." Jungkook nods at your explanation and looks at the fridge. It's still in the slightly shifted position he moved it to earlier in the day, albeit there is a slight dent in the side now from where he punched it. Jungkook runs a thumb over his bruised knuckles.

Faint yellow light streams across the floor of the kitchen, providing a minimal amount of visibility but enough for Jungkook to see the cabinets and you more clearly.

"I'll look through the cabinets and drawers over here. Go ahead and get started on those." You don't wait to see whether Jungkook does as asked and busy yourself with the searching instead. He mimics your actions. Part of him wants to make some conversation, if only to ease the anxiety that bubbles in his gut anytime he's left in silence with you.

All this effort for a bear…does it really help? It's been gone since I arrived, and Taehyung seems to be doing alright without it now. He wasn't fine the first day but for the past few days…I don't understand how much impact a stuffed animal can have.

No luck. Thirty minutes later, Jungkook has searched through his side of the kitchen at least three times, and he knows that you have as well but you show no signs of slowing down. He, on the other hand, it ready to call it quits and stop looking for the bear, which is obviously not here either. He collapses on the floor with a sign, plopping on the tile a bit too roughly, and his rear end stings from the impact. You glance back at him midway through a cabinet but don't comment on his decision to stop looking with you.

"Where else could it be?" He inquires once you return to digging through the cabinet.

"It could be in either Mingyu or Yesung's room."

"Jimin mentioned that he shares a room with Yesung."

"I'm aware of that."

"Why don't…why don't you just ask him to look through the room? That would be easiest, wouldn't it?" Jungkook is hesitant about the suggestion for some reason, as though he knows what your response is going to be before you say it, and you don't let him down when you speak next.

"I don't trust him to do a good enough job looking for it."

"Why? Do you think he's dumb or something?" The question holds a hint of hostility in it, and Jungkook didn't intend for that to slip in but he can't take it back now.

"No, I don't think that." Your tone is a bit too quiet, and you have your head in a cabinet so Jungkook has to lean forward to catch your words. "I simply don't trust him to look for it. I am the only person I can trust to do a good enough job looking, and that's why I've been double checking everything myself."

"Why don't you get someone you trust to help?"

"Oh? Like who?"

"Namjoon, Yoongi, Seokjin, I don't know," Jungkook mutters, dipping his head as he speaks. He doesn't want to bring up Yoongi again in case you retaliate with harsh words once more. You don't show any signs of anger though. Sighing, you shut the cabinet you're working on and move onto the next.

"That's…a different kind of trust, but I'm going to say anything more on that."

You continue searching in silence, not offering any more words for Jungkook, and he doesn't press for answers, unwilling to risk angering you. Different kind of trust? What does that mean? She doesn't trust them to help her look for a stuffed bear? That doesn't make sense…there must be something else. I don't believe that excuse. Then again, she told me not to mention anything about the plans to Yoongi or Namjoon. But why? What would they do if they knew? Wouldn't they help?

"Fuck!" Your sudden cuss stops Jungkook in his tracks, and he jolts at the sound of a cabinet slamming shut. You turn away from the cabinets, hands finding purchase on the counter and gripping the granite. "I can't find it anywhere. It's not here. It wasn't in the laundry room. God, we're so screwed. This means that Mingyu or Yesung has it in one of their rooms."

"So…what're we gonna do?"

"I don't know." For once, you seem to be at a loss.

"Are we gonna sneak into their room while they're gone?"

"No, I—we can't do that. Getting caught by Mingyu is too big of a risk. I would rather start a fist fight with him in the meal room than sneak into his room."

"I'll do it then."

"Huh?"

"I'll sneak into his room." Jungkook lifts himself off the floor and leans against the counter so that he's opposite you now, staring you in the eye with a newfound resolve. "I'm not scared of him."

"You think I'm scared of him? Mingyu isn't the problem."

"Then what is?"

"Come on, you've got a brain and can put two and two together." You shift, hip colliding with the edge of the counter, but you barely bat an eye at the contact. "Why do you think Mingyu didn't get in as much trouble as I did when we fought? Or why the nurses didn't interfere for so long until Yesung got involved."

"I thought it was just because they don't care. That's what Namjoon told me, at least."

"And you didn't think that maybe Namjoon was holding something back? He is just as scared as everyone else in the clinic. No one fucks with Mingyu for a reason. I just don't give a big enough shit to let him treat Taehyung the way he does. He can walk all over me any day of the week, but he can't mess with someone who can't or won't defend themselves." You stop your rant, glancing at the wall clock beside the fridge. Jungkook follows your line of sight to read the time as well, disappointed at the sight of it. "We still have plenty of time before the camera glitches again." Yeah, two whole hours of this mess. You move away from the counter, making another round of the cabinets, and Jungkook watches on with little amusement.

"Why didn't Mingyu in trouble, if it's not due to the nurses not caring?"

"I'm not going to spell it out for you, Jeon. Think about his name."

"It's Mingyu? I don't get what game you're trying to play. Why can't you explain it already?" You turn to face Jungkook just so that he can see the over-exaggerated roll of your eyes before responding.

"I thought you were smarter than this, but obviously not." Jungkook opens his mouth to counter your comment, but you lift a finger to keep him from speaking. "His name is Choi Mingyu. Do you remember who runs the clinic?"

"Dr. Choi, but isn't Choi a common name?"

"You've met with the good doctor. Tell me the family resemblance isn't there."

"I-I, well now that you—yes it's there."

"That's part of the reason why Mingyu is so arrogant and full of himself. His father is in charge of the clinic."

"Why is he here of all places though? There's tons of other clinics out there that he could be at. Why would his family want him here?"

"Why wouldn't they? It makes it easy. They can keep their kid in the same place that Dad is in charge of. On top of that, his own father gets to control the care as well. They don't care if it's counterproductive, but it is. It worsens half of Mingyu's problems and makes his ego even bigger, which affects us more than anyone else."

"Ah, I think — I think I get it now. If we get caught in Mingyu's room, he would tell his dad and make things living hell for us."

"Not necessarily, but it would probably extend our stays by at least another year, and we would lose our privileges on top of that."

"It's not like I have any privileges to revoke right now though."

"Do you really want to stay longer?"

"No, of course not."

"That's what I thought." You hum and laugh to yourself.

"Why do you and Mingyu have such a bad relationship anyways? Has it always been like this? How long has he been here?"

"Honestly? I don't even remember anymore, but it's been awhile. We've never gotten along. Ever since he got here, he's been thrusting his dumbass attitude in everyone's faces, but I didn't pay much attention to him at first because I didn't really care when I first arrived. His ego is too big for him to deal with anyone who disagrees with him, and our views don't line up that well. We don't think the same way, and sure you can agree to disagree with some people, but Mingyu doesn't operate like that. His ego made sense back when he was a teenager. I wrote him off as a typical teenage asshole then, although now I know that he's insufferable no matter what age he is." Jungkook nods along with your words, taking in all the information to remember for later when he has access to his journal again.

"I understand a bit better now," he says more to himself than to you. "How does Yesung fall into the picture though?"

"He is a lot like me, in that he's in it for himself. So, Yesung is searching for the easiest way to live in the clinic and thinks that by siding with Mingyu, he has that easy way out. To be honest, Yesung isn't a bad person, at least he hasn't always been, but he has become one by spending all his time with Mingyu. I'm sure things would be a lot different if Yesung cared about someone other than himself."

"I see." Jungkook pulls at a loose string on one of his socks, tugging it until the string becomes a loop, and puffs his cheeks full of air. "Thank you for explaining all that for me. And answering my questions. I know you don't really like being asked so many questions."

"Well, you aren't asking anything personal about me. You've only been asking about other people, and they happen to be people I don't care for, so I don't care about keeping my mouth shut for them. Besides, Mingyu would love the attention." You've reached the end of the line of cabinets by now and are about to make another lap around the kitchen to check again, but Jungkook calls out to stop you.

"Y/N, you don't have to keep searching the cabinets. The bear is obviously not there."

"No, no, no. It has to be here somewhere." You run your fingers through your hair and tug hard on the strands. Ignoring Jungkook's words, you move towards the cabinets again and open each one. "I'm not going to find it in time. Taehyung has been waiting long enough already, but he needs it. I need to get it for him. If I can't find it tonight, then I'm failing him. He needs me to find it." Jungkook moves around the counter and reaches out in an effort to stop you, but you move away from his outstretched arm too quickly for him to catch. "I know it's here somewhere. Mingyu and Yesung are dumb, they can't have many places to put it. It has to be here somewhere."

"Y/N," Jungkook sighs. He intercepts you in the midst of your war path to the next set of cabinets, pressing his fingers around your wrist. He nearly lets go immediately after out of sheer shock, because as his fingers dip under the fabric of your sleeve, he feels the ridges of scars across your skin. Rows of them, one after another against his fingers, and he subconsciously drags his thumb over them. I've never noticed—they don't feel fresh but…I never saw them before, did I? I don't remember, but it's not something I ever paid attention to. "Why are you panicking so much? It'll be okay. Taehyung has done well without the bear thus far, and he seems to be willing to wait until we can find it. If it takes a bit more time, then so be it." You look up at Jungkook, yellow light from the pantry hitting the side of your face and casting crude shadows over your features. Your brows knit together. Instead of pulling away and putting up your defensive walls, you drop your shoulders and bite your lower lip.

"I can't let him down, Jungkook. I can't. I have to do this for him, I need to help him now, and I can't waste any time."

"It'll be okay, Y/N. You just need to give it a bit more time. We will find it, I promise. You have been helping Taehyung enough as it is."

"It's not enough though."

"What's not enough?" He asks, trying to maintain eye contact as you start lowering your chin.

"Me." A searing ache spreads across Jungkook's chest. Under his grip, you're trembling, and he tightens his hold as though it will do something to make you feel better. "I'm not enough. I can't fix Taehyung by just being me. Hell, I don't know if I can fix it at all."

"It's okay to not be enough," Jungkook mutters. The low rumble of the fridge almost blocks out his words, but you hear him nonetheless, eyes flitting up to meet his. He isn't sure whether his words have any impact, but he also has no clue how to help you in this situation. How to comfort, help, console, anything. He doesn't know what the hell he's doing.

"You're a liar. Not being enough has never helped anyone." You frown, and Jungkook mirrors your expression with a frown of his own.

"No one is ever enough, Y/N. We can't be perfect for everyone, and you don't need to be." Your frown deepens, and you blink up at Jungkook. You don't react further than that for a few moments. Jungkook can almost see the gears turning in your mind as you take in his words. Then you pull away, and Jungkook has to release your wrist. You hug your arms to your chest, slouching forward as you do, and all he sees is how small and vulnerable you seem.

"I'm trying to keep you at a distance. Why don't you get that? I don't want you to get close to me."

"Why? I'm trying to help. I don't underst—” 

"Stay out of my personal life." You shift, turning your back to him.

"But why, Y/N? I don't understand why you're trying so hard to push me away."

"I have hurt enough people by letting them get close and involved in my personal life. I'm not a good person, I only care about myself, so why would you want to get involved with that? I'm selfish and rude and insensitive."

"You aren't going to hurt me," Jungkook insists, and he takes a step closer to you.

"Again, you're a liar. That's exactly what Yoongi said, and he turned out to be a liar." Jungkook stops dead in his tracks. Eyes wide, mouth agape, he stares at the back of your head. She brought him up. Oh god, what do I say?

"What?"

That's all Jungkook can manage in the heat of the moment, although it might be because his throat is closing up from the panic coursing through his veins. All he can think about is your reaction earlier when you talked about Yoongi, and he would rather not hear you repeat the cruel words.

"You are a liar. Just like Yoongi was. You are going to turn out to be an exact replica of him, and I don't want that in my life again. It would be better to keep you at a distance than to hurt you the way I hurt Yoongi." You can't see the stutter in Jungkook's jaw, the way he moves his lips with no voice because he's at a loss. Being silent surely isn't the proper answer, so Jungkook struggles to manage a response.

"I-I, uh, didn't realize that's what happened. I thought — it doesn't seem like that's the case."

"We're fine now."

"Why? Because you pushed him away?" Jungkook presses his lips together in a moment of doubt and hesitation, then with a deep inhale of breath, he continues on with his train of thought. The pent up frustration in his gut pushes its way to the foreground, ready to spill out and bare itself to reality. "Is that what you're gonna do to Taehyung when he gets too close? Or Namjoon if he starts pushing boundaries? Are you doing that to Jimin now? You obviously push him away for some reason, but maybe it's simply because you can't stand the thought of being vulnerable in front of someone. What about Hoseok? You'll do that to him too? You claim it's so that you don't hurt them, but can't you see that's exactly what you're doing by be—” 

A sharp pain spreads across his right cheek, and for a moment, Jungkook has no clue what happened. He doesn't get the change to finish his train of thought thanks to the shock that wipes his mind of what he was going to say. Without looking your way, he lifts shaking fingers to his cheek, which is suddenly cold compared to the rest of his body, and when he pulls it away, crimson paints his fingertips. Blood? Am I bleeding? He wipes at his cheek once more with his thumb, finding a smear of blood on his skin. Not mine though.

"Are you hurt?" He asks and lifts his chin to look you in the eye. He catches a glimpse of the expression of anger only a moment before it dissipates into bewilderment. You lean back, eyes following the movement of Jungkook's hands as he reaches forward to bare your palms to the ceiling. Sure enough, blood coats the skin there, and deep crescent cuts mar the middle of your palms, still oozing the red liquid. Your hands are trembling again, fingers twitching. "Is there a first aid kit in here?"

"I, um, yea there's one in the pantry," you whisper in response.

Jungkook pulls away and darts for the pantry in search of the object in mind. He digs around for a bit longer than he would like, having to shift random snack and cereal boxes to get to it, and upon returning to the kitchen, he finds you at the sink. You're running hot water over your palms, silently watching the blood leave red streaks in the clear liquid and fall into the sink unceremoniously.

"Why aren't you mad at me?" You ask under your breath.

"I deserved it. I've been told that I'm too vocal with my opinions, and it gets me into trouble more often than not." He shrugs as he pops the first aid kit open.

"I'm sorry that I hit you."

"You don't need to apologize."

A pause. Then,

"Yes I do."

"I deserved it."

"Okay."

He steals a glance at you out of the corner of his eye, then turns the water off for you and breaks open one of the packs of sterile alcohol prep pads.

"Is this what happened when you fought with Mingyu and Yesung? I saw the blood on Yesung's cheek but wasn't sure where it came from…” 

"It happens a lot," you admit. Your fingers twitch when Jungkook presses the alcohol pad against your wounds, but you relax them a moment later after getting used to the sting. "Better than cutting myself, right?" He presses the pad a bit too hard, and you visibly wince at the force of the contact. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't joke about that."

Jungkook doesn't say anything as he turns away, dumping the used prep pads in the trash can. You've taken over when he returns to his post by your side, and you tug the roll of white gauze loose. Jungkook views your attempts to wrap your hands up by yourself. You begin to struggle with the motions not long after, so he pulls it away from you and begins to wrap your palms himself.

"Why do you think you'll hurt me if I get close?" He asks. Maybe it's the attempts to help you, or the fact that you feel a bit guilty for hitting him, but you actually relent and decide to answer his question.

"That's what happens to everyone who gets close to me."

"Is that the case for Namjoon and Seokjin?"

"In all honesty, Seokjin doesn't know me very well. He never asks personal questions. Often, he talks about himself instead, and I can't blame him for that because I know it's not something he can wholly control. As for Namjoon…there's always been some sort of unspoken agreement. He doesn't ask, maybe because he knows how I will react. But he does know a lot about me — a lot more than anyone else — but he doesn't push me the way some other people do. The same goes for the other way around. In my defense though, it's easier if I keep people at a distance."

"Who is it easier for?"

"Look, I know that it's selfish and wrong. I know I'm not a good person, but that isn't going to stop me from trying to protect myself."

"You are a good person. It's obvious from the way you talk about Taehyung and Hoseok, and I can tell that you want to help them more than anything else. It — well, it doesn't seem like you want to help yourself." Jungkook gently snips the gauze and locks it into place with two short pieces of tape. "You don't need to put up this facade to convince everyone that you're strong," he says while tucking everything back into the first aid kit.

"It's a bit ironic, I think. You are telling me all this, but you do the exact same things." You flex your fingers a bit around the new bandages, then meet Jungkook's eyes. "The strong facade isn't to hide myself. It's to be strong for other people who can't be strong themselves. I am being strong for Taehyung and Hoseok. Namjoon, Yoongi, Seokjin — they can take care of themselves and be strong for themselves, they've proven it to me before. But Taehyung and Hoseok don't have that sort of luxury."

"Why do you feel an obligation to do that for them? Is it some sort of repentance for past mistakes? Or a way to make up for not feeling good enough in the past?" Your eyes flit away from his, and Jungkook is sure that he's hit the nail on the head with his assumptions. The melancholic haze that drifts to cover your eyes in a dreary film reflects sadness.

"It's almost 3:33. We should head back soon." Jungkook purses his lips but doesn't say anything else. Instead, he returns the first aid kit to where he found it and comes back to the kitchen to find you clutching the edges of the sink, hovering over it. Jungkook announces his presence by flicking the light switch to the pantry off. You pull back from the sink, dragging the heel of your hand across your cheek before looking over at Jungkook. "I just want to make something clear before we go back. Whatever my reasons for helping Taehyung and Hoseok are…you don't need to know them. Helping is helping, and all I can hope is that it's enough."

"But if you don't help yourself—” 

"Then who cares?"

"You should let people help you too," Jungkook says, putting a good amount of force behind his words. "I want to help you, and…if it means that you let me in even just a little bit, then I am more than willing to drop the strong facade I carry." You press your lips into a frown. Jungkook sighs as he realizes that you aren't going to offer any sort of response.

"Hello?"

Jungkook nearly jumps out of his own skin at the sound of the new voice. He jerks his head in the direction of the voice, and through the darkness, he finds a head of orange hair. Empty eyes. Blank expression. Staring forward, but not looking at anything in particular, and certainly not focused on either of the people standing in the middle of the kitchen. You, on the other hand, seem completely unfazed by the intrusion. You simply shift your head towards the sound, but once your eyes recognize Hoseok standing at the edge of the kitchen, you lunge forward.

"Hoseok?" You dart around the counter to get closer to the man. "Did something happen? Are you alright? What are you doing up? Why you not in your room?" You spew the questions at him.

"I-I — do I know you?" Jungkook thinks Hoseok is directing the question at him for a split second, but Hoseok is staring you in the eye instead. You freeze, the hand that you had outstretched to him falling to your side limply. Jungkook's heart clenches as he reads the expression that flashes across your face, one that bears sadness and a sense of familiarity as though this situation has repeated itself time and time again.

"No, you don't. Are you alright?"

"I'm not sure how I got here. I was walking in the hallway to a door at the end of the hall and then all the sudden, I'm here. I heard some voices, and they told me to go here I think. They directed me here. It was Yunho, Yunho told me to come here." Hoseok speaks with a flat tone, nothing showing through his stony exterior, and Jungkook watches on with increasing discomfort.

"He did? That's nice of him. He brought you here to us, so we can help you now."

"You know Yunho? Does Yunho know you?"

You offer a weak smile.

"Yes, Hoseok. I know Yunho very well. He's a friend of mine."

"Oh. I see. Are you a friend of mine too then?"

"I am. Can you tell me which door you were trying to get to earlier?"

"It was a door. A white door with a silver handle, and you know the door it — it sli-slides open instead of opening normally. And there's a plaque with a name on it — the name, um, the name was L/N Y/N. I knocked, I think, but there was no answer. I remember a voice telling me to go there whenever I felt like I was in trouble though. The voice — a girl's voice — she told me to go there when I needed her help, but she wasn't there. Then Yunho started telling me where to go instead."

"And now you're here."

"Yea, now I'm here."

"Well, Hoseok, uh…my name is L/N Y/N. Yunho must have remembered that I wasn't in my room and brought you here instead."

"You know Yunho?"

"Yes, I do." Your voice wavers a bit, smile falters, and you take a step closer to Hoseok. "I'm supposed to help you whenever you feel like you're in trouble. How are you?"

"I, well, I'm not good. The mean voices are telling me things again."

"Are they? Did you listen to them?"

"Yea…yes. I don't feel good."

Jungkook glances at his watch. 3:36. We missed our chance.

"Okay, I understand. Hoseok, do you want me to come back to your room with you?"

"I don't know. Yes. No. I'm not sure. I don't feel good though."

"Alright, let's walk back—Hoseok!" Jungkook snaps his head up as you shout. Hoseok stumbles forward, wobbling on his feet, then collapses. You lunge forward to catch him, but his weight presses down on you too hard, and suddenly both you and Hoseok are on the floor. "Shit. Shit! Fucking hell. Fuck!" You slap the ground, and the sound echoes.

"What do I do? What do I need to do? How do I help?" Jungkook asks as he rushes to meet you on the floor. Hoseok isn't moving anymore. Oh God…what happened?

"Go get someone! Now!"

"Who am I supposed to get?"

"I don't fucking care! Get someone! Hurry!" You yell. As your eyes meet his, Jungkook sees the shine of tears welling there, and he stumbles back at the sight.

"Okay, okay. Okay. Don't worry. I'll get someone. It'll be okay, Y/N."

"Fuck, no it won't! I was supposed to be there. I told him to come to my room, and I wasn't there!"

"Y/N, please. I am gonna get someone. Everything is going to be okay, I swear. I'll be right back."

"Fucking hurry," you shout, voice coming out a bit hoarse this time. Jungkook glances at you one more time before turning to sprint out of the kitchen. He doesn't think twice about the cameras in the hall. His mind is reeling so much at his point that he doesn't even know where he's going.

Is he okay? What happened? What the hell is going on?

Jungkook scans each plaque as he passes them, barely taking in the names, before stopping at a door near the end of the hall. He bangs his fist against the white panels, so much force and vehemence in his strikes that his fist stings from the impact. He keeps knocking and knocking, head craned to look down towards the mouth of the hallway as he does. When the door slides open, Jungkook nearly falls forward because his fist doesn't meet a hard surface anymore, and someone steadies him before he falls flat on his face.

"What the hell do you want?"

...

a/n: sorry this took so long to get out!! school kicked my butt recently, but i am very happy and proud of this chapter! i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i do!

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