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scullydubois · 4 years ago

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Only the Light Ch. 18

Scully, Mulder, and Missy travel to California to meet Emily and wrestle with the future.

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The echo of Scully’s heels against the linoleum is almost enough to drown out her racing heart. Mulder’s thumping steps and her sister’s daintier ones help too, but their collective power does nothing to ease Scully’s awareness that the Earth circles the sun at a thousand miles per hour. Today, she’s feeling every bit of it.

The three of them round a corner, and a broad-shouldered man and tiny-waisted woman come into view. Agent Feniston and the lawyer, this must be. Outside of conference room C--as planned.

Straightening every disc in her spine, Scully extends a hand and exchanges a firm shake with each of them. Mulder and Melissa hang back.

“Dana Scully,” she declares. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“That decision rested with the foster parents,” the male agent insists. “As does any from this point forward.”

“Yes, and I’ll be sure to thank them as well,” Scully acquiesces.

“Hello, Ms. Scully.” The lawyer uncrosses her ankles. “I’m Tanya Joyce, you can call me Tanya. As a representative of the state of California, my priority is guarding the child’s wellbeing and ensuring that any choice made is what’s best for her.”

“Of course,” Scully murmurs. “Thank you for being here.”

Tanya thumbs toward the closed door of the conference room. “Brian and Cecily are eager to meet you. The foster system has extremely limited information on little Emily. Your testimony will help us all fill in some blanks.”

Scully nods. “Me as well...this is as much a surprise for me as all of you.”

“Are we to understand that you were not aware you bore a child, Ms. Scully?” Agent Feniston asks.

“Yes, sir. I know it’s quite hard to believe, I feel the same. I was missing for a period of time last year and was comatose when I returned.”

“Yes, and how long was that period of time, Ms. Scully?”

The edges of her lips fall. “Approximately five weeks.”

“So is it safe to assume that though the child shares your DNA, you did not carry her?”

“No sir, not that I know of. I believe that my eggs were harvested, and she was...well, she comes from one of those.”

The agent hums a note of acknowledgement. “As I told you over the phone, the federal database contained no viable DNA match of a father.”

Scully nods. “Yes sir, and I have no knowledge of what sperm may have been used.”

“Noted.” He rubs his neck. “We were lucky, we only found you because you were in the missing persons database.”

“I had no idea I was still listed there,” Scully says. “I’ve asked the FBI to remove it.”

“Well, it was a stroke of luck for us,” the agent tells her. “This little girl’s foster parents encouraged the state to pursue child abandonment charges against whoever left her. She was found outside a local care center at two weeks old, as I’ve told you.”

“Yes.” Scully purses her lips. She imagines a baby with her eyes, nose, toes, chromosomes crying on a nondescript doorstep...she and Mulder did not know what they were doing when they said they wanted the truth.

“We’ve already confirmed your story with the FBI,” Feniston continues, “and we have proof that you were working on cases in the east at the time of Emily’s delivery to the foster center, so you are free of any child abandonment charges.”

“Wonderful,” Scully replies, but really, those were the least of her concerns. “May I see my daughter now?”

That’s the first time she’s ever said that sentence, and she didn’t expect terror to shoot up her spine. Is this what it is, having an extension of your life outside your body?

The lawyer steps forward. “I’ll introduce you to Brian and Cecily, they’d like to speak with you first.”

Scully does not like the way that sits in the air. Still, she musters a smile. “It would be my pleasure.”

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Mulder and Melissa make themselves at home on a pair of leather chairs outside the conference room. They have been the pall-bearers keeping Scully aloft as her crushed dreams reinvent themselves as high hopes. They don’t understand how it happened any more than Scully herself: one phone call turned into multiple consultations with Agent Feniston, then Tanya and California Social Services and finally, DC social workers who performed background checks and prepared forms so that Scully could come here today to meet her baby and, God-willing, bring her home.

It doesn’t happen this fast, it never does--different voices said these same words to them a dozen times. And yet, barely two weeks after Agent Feniston’s fated voicemail, here they are. On All Hallow’s Eve, no less. Just in time for Emily to complete her first rotation around the sun.

They both play contrasting yet crucial roles in Operation Miracle Baby, as Mulder dubbed it. Dana has sobbed into Missy’s shoulder every night for the past two weeks; happy tears (her baby! she has a baby!), sad tears (she has a baby…and she didn’t even know...), scared tears (a baby! a baby, Missy! probably already walking, and maybe even talking if she’s exceptional...). The situation--and its implications--are impossible to reconcile in such a short time, if at all. Scully’s petite frame could not physically contain it.

Mulder’s the comic relief, the distraction, the reminder that nothing can be so grave if there's still breath left in your body. He bought a CD of nursery rhymes and stuck in it his beat-up office radio, playing it through the day while Scully labored over this form or that and he pretended to alphabetize the case file drawer. Now, he hums himself to sleep every night with one of those rhymes; he’s hoping this new skill will come in handy.

He would’ve bought toys and baby clothes too, but Melissa made him swear not to in case the adoption falls through. And she’s right, he can’t bear to imagine the pain Scully would feel packing those away. For sale: baby shoes, never worn hits you no matter who you are. Still, he has a stuffed UFO and a Build-a-Bear fox (yes, he went in and filled it himself) hidden in his closet, and he hopes they won’t go to waste.

Operation Miracle Baby has been as covert as anything Mulder’s ever been involved in. He, Melissa, and Mrs. Scully are the only ones in his partner’s circle with any knowledge of what’s going on. No one else, in Scully’s words, matters. Trinity too has received a full briefing from Missy and is ecstatic about her girlfriend potentially becoming an auntie. Skinner was told it was a family emergency--and well, it is--though surely he’s suspicious about both of his agents requesting time off. Bill Jr. has no idea they’re in San Diego, though they may seek “refuge” (the air quotes are Missy’s) at his place if the proceedings drag on.

This is a triumph or failure to be shared only with those most beloved, that’s what Scully said to them the night before they boarded the plane. Mulder has never been included in anyone’s most beloved before. It feels pretty damn good.

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The perky lawyer raps on the conference room door, opening it in response to a voice on the other side. Scully’s breath catches….a strawberry-haired infant rests in her mother’s arms (Scully hates to think it, but surely this woman is more Emily’s mother than she is), pulling at a lock of the woman’s blonde hair.

The woman turns her way, and Scully gets her first glimpse at Emily’s face. Emily. Her baby. She wondered the whole flight here whether she would feel a connection….a sense of recognition...upon laying eyes on her daughter. And my god, it’s like some chained section of her heart has burst open, flooded with all the good feelings of the world. Icy blue eyes and cherub cheeks...that’s her baby. That’s her baby.

She watches as her baby is passed to a woman in a CA Social Services button-up who slides past Scully in the doorway like she’s not even there. Scully has a split-second to notice the dimples on her daughter’s cheeks, but that’s it. Emily’s gaze misses her entirely.

Tanya strides toward the couple in the room, Scully following behind.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lace, this is Dana Scully, Emily’s biological mother.”

“We’re so glad to meet you,” the man says, shaking Scully’s hand with a firm grip. “I’m Brian, and this is my wife Cecily.”

“Thank you for speaking with me,” Scully tells them, shaking Cecily’s hand in kind. “I understand you’ve cared for Emily since shortly after she arrived at social services.”

“Yes,” Cecily confirms. “She came to us when she was a month old. Raising her has been an absolute joy.”

Brian nods. “She’s the second infant we’ve fostered. We adopted our first one, Andrew, when he was a year and a half.”

“I didn’t realize you had another child,” Scully converses, feeling out of her depth. “It must have been quite a transition, taking Emily in.”

“It sure was, but she’s an angel, truly,” Brian says. “We couldn't fathom that someone could abandon her and get away with it, that’s why we contacted Agent Feniston.”

Cecily chimes in--”We were told the chances of finding a DNA match in the federal database was slim. We didn’t expect to learn that you were unaware of Emily’s existence!”

“Yes, I’m still coming to terms with it all,” Scully replies. “I’m grateful that you’ve given me the opportunity to see her, at the very least.”

“When we heard your story, we knew it would be heinous of us to say no,” Cecily says, offering a sympathetic smile.

“You’re an FBI agent, did we hear that right?” Brain asks.

“Yes sir, I’ve been with the Bureau five years now.”

“You live in DC?”

Scully nods. “Around the corner from the National Mall.”

“That’s exciting!” Cecily pipes up. “How did you find yourself having Emily in San Diego?”

“I actually have no idea, Mrs. Lace,” Scully murmurs. “My family lived here when I was young, but I haven’t been back since. Coincidentally, my brother lives not too far off.”

“Wow,” Cecily gasps. “They weren’t kidding about you being a missing person.”

“No ma’am.” She went from a missing person to missing a person. No wonder she’s spent the past year feeling so empty.

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Mulder and Melissa get only the slightest moment to catch their breath before a child that is unmistakably the progeny of Dana Scully is carried into the lobby. Her hair curls around her ears in a cute mushroom top, her tongue dancing in her mouth like it has a mind of its own. They stare; they know better, but fuck it, if any baby is worth staring at, it’s this one.

“Is that--?” Mulder whispers.

“Yeah,” Missy breathes.

They’ve both seen the pictures, they are well aware that it’s her. They say these things for the awe of it.

“She’s…” Mulder’s eyes are wide. “She’s bigger than I thought she would be. Not fat, I mean. Just...a whole tiny human.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Melissa smiles at her niece, who is now seated on her caretaker’s lap across the hallway. Emily’s big eyes blink at her, containing silent judgements. How like her mother she is.

Missy elbows Mulder. “I bet she orders mushroom pizza and then picks the mushrooms off because apparently ‘the cheese tastes better than on the regular cheese pizza,’” she muses, naming one of her sister’s quirks.

Mulder likes this game. “I bet she vehemently denies the existence of extraterrestrials only to secretly believe that her dashing partner is right,” he offers.

Missy smirks. “I bet she would find this game very stupid if she understood it.”

“I’m all in on that one.” Mulder mimes pushing a pile of poker chips into the center of a table.

Missy laughs, looks toward her seat partner with soft eyes. “She’s gonna be a great mom, isn’t she? Dana, I mean?”

“Oh yeah.” Mulder clasps his hands in his lap. “We should be so lucky to have a little Scully in the world.”

“Mm-hm.” Missy focuses on his face, watching for the slightest move that might give his thoughts away. “And she’ll be able to do it alone, do you think?”

“Well, I’m sure she’ll need some help from Mrs. Scully, and you, and…” he trails off before adding his own name, but Missy’s mind fills it in reflexively. “She’ll need help,” Mulder finishes, “but yeah, she’ll be incredible.”

The details have already been parsed out. As a single mother, Scully is required to list a guardian who would take custody of Emily if something were to happen to her. She listed her mother as the primary one--the social worker told her it’s best if it’s someone who has child-rearing experience--and Missy as the secondary guardian. She would, after all, already live in the child’s household.

Then there was the matter of the job--its extensive time requirements, travelling, and danger level were all of concern to the agency. This came as no surprise to Scully; a single female FBI agent does not make the ideal adoption candidate. And though she hasn’t yet spoken to the Bureau, Mulder has promised her they’ll work something out. It can be like your leave of absence, he assured her. You tackle the paper trail and I’ll focus on following the suspect’s trail. Easy-peasy.

That’s what he says to her, though he’s terrified of losing her as his partner...Of her being reassigned to something simpler or leaving the Bureau entirely. She could teach at Quantico, that schedule would be a hell of a lot easier than running on Mulder time. Agent Scully can pack for hastily-booked flights at midnight then catch them at 7am, but Emily’s mother couldn’t. He will have to reckon with this if all the pieces fall into their graceful place. He’ll have to figure out how to rearrange their partnership for her, or even worse, how to live without her as his partner. Or maybe even at all.

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Scully glances at her shoes, then summons the courage to meet Mrs. Lace’s hazel eyes. “I hope you will consider my request. I know it’s not up to you entirely--the court will have the final say--but my abduction experience has left me unable to have a biological child, so learning of Emily was truly a miracle of the highest order.”

Her voice clips as she takes a breath. “I understand that it would be a huge sacrifice on the part of your family, and that you’ve developed a bond with Emily over the past eleven months. I just ask you both to please...think about it.” Tears twinkle in her eyes. She made it, thank god, she made it without breaking down! She’s rehearsed that speech ten times over.

Cecily lays a hand on her husband’s arm. “Of course, Dana. It would be a painful sacrifice to us, you’re correct, but we understand that you’ve flown across the country to be here, and that you’ve brought witnesses to testify to your character, so your commitment is clear. We’ll listen and make as compassionate a decision as possible.”

Scully’s lips creep into a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” She steps back, the weight of imminent sobs settling over her chest.

“Ms. Scully has already undergone most of the requirements needed for adoption,” the lawyer tells Mr. and Mrs. Lace. “Medical clearance, psychiatric clearance, criminal background check, and home study. In the spirit of her unique circumstances, California and the District of Columbia have agreed to cooperate to make the process as smooth and expedient as possible, if you should choose to surrender Emily to her. I don’t mean to sway your decision in any way, just to give you all the available information.”

The couple nods. “Thank you, Tanya,” Cecily answers. “We’d like to speak with the first witness now.”

Scully balks. She expected more questions, a barrage of them, as intense and prying as if she were testifying in front of Congress. And she was ready for that--she was prepared to do whatever they asked of her, to show that there are no lengths she wouldn’t go for Emily. She’s already documented every detail of her life for social services and given over the necessary specimens to prove that no, she’s not a drug user, and yes, her thyroid is hyperactive, but she takes medication for that and her doctor will confirm that it’s under control.

And if they wanted to know more, she’d tell them. She’d tell it all. Her deepest, darkest secret (telling Daniel that yes, he should leave his wife & kids...all for her, to be with her), the most petty thing that haunts her (stolen cigarettes, smoked on the family porch at 1am), what she wants to say most but can’t (I love you)...a part of her was taken to create Emily. She would give the rest away to keep her.

There was a moment, in one of the drab little interrogation rooms at DC social services, where Scully was met with a question that lunged toward her like a time-bomb. Pull the fuse, pull the fuse it taunted her. See what happens. Instead, she played it off. Pretended she didn’t hear its doomed tick. Feigned none the wiser. No, she isn’t aware of any potential medical condition that would inhibit her life expectancy or ability to care for a child, she told the nice woman. Thank god they got the chip out of her neck before it showed up on any x-rays.

She snaps back to reality, watching as the conference door opens, and her sister enters the room.

“Thank you, Dana,” Tanya says, and she assumes that’s the lawyer’s way of telling her to get out, so she does. Outside the room, she settles next to Mulder in a seat that’s still warm.

“How’d it go in there, champ?” he chatters. “You need some water or anything?”

Scully’s not listening. Her eyes are trained on the baby girl across the way with hair too auburn to be brunette that’ll require a smattering of box dye every two weeks to qualify her as a soulless ginger.

Emily’s eyes land on the woman she does not know is her mother, studying this new face with an infant’s usual curiosity. Mulder has realized by now that the little girl is of much more interest to his partner than he is, and he watches as mother and daughter wave to each other.

Scully lets out a laugh so strangled that for a moment Mulder thinks it’s a cry and jumps to comfort her. He relaxes back into his seat once he sees the joy on her face.

“She’s a sweetheart, huh?” Mulder wisecracks as the young girl jams her fingers into her mouth.

Scully beams. “She’s a baby, that’s her way of learning the world!”

“Hey, I’m not knocking it. That’s my personal preference as well,” he says with a lop-sided smile.

“Yeah, well, she’s not licking evidence,” Scully quips.

Mulder shrugs. “A man can’t help his oral fixation. Haven’t you ever heard of Freud…?” he lets it slide off his tongue.

Scully rolls her eyes. His inability to maintain an appropriate manner is nothing if not inspiring.

She gestures toward Emily. “You’re already encouraging bad behavior. Tsk-tsk,” she teases.

“That’s my job as--hey, wait. What’s she gonna call me?” If you get custody, of course passes silently between them.

“I don’t know, Mulder,” Scully says, watching her daughter out of the corner of her eye. “I hadn’t really thought about it.” That’s a lie. She’s sat up during the night trying to decipher Mulder’s relation to Emily. He would certainly be the male authority in her life, but that doesn’t make him a father figure. Right?

Scully adored her father because he was the head of the family, and he embraced the responsibility, always making sure they had what they needed. While her mother was often the one doing the grunt work of caring for them, her father provided for them. His long deployments with the Navy protected them. Scully understood his sacrifice and loved him for it

That’s not how it would go with Emily. If she were so lucky as to get the child, Scully would be the caretaker and the provider. A two-in-one deal with a high price. What would that mean, for Emily? Scully could do it, she believes that. Not that it would be anything less than utterly exhausting, but with a little help from her mother and her sister, she could make do, and they say it takes a village to raise a child anyway, so what’s so bad about that?

Since she’s filling those roles herself, that leaves...well, Mulder could be the fun uncle, that fits him. Bill Jr. isn’t gonna cut it, and neither is Charlie, considering that he’s god knows where. Besides, it’s unlikely that Mulder will get a chance to know a biological niece or nephew. He and Emily could fill missing pieces in each other’s lives.

Scully’s eyes trace the contours of her partner’s face. “Do you have a preference about what she calls you?”

“I was hoping for His Royal Highness Fox Mulder of Martha’s Vineyard--is that too much?”

Scully lets a strand of hair fall over her face. “It might take her awhile to get her tongue around that.”

“Or it’ll speed up her speech acquisition,” Mulder replies.

“Oh, you’re a child-rearing connoisseur now?”

Mulder twiddles his thumbs. “It is my goal to raise the first kid to transcribe canine language into English.”

“Really? I wasn’t aware of that,” Scully tells him, a smile flitting on her lips. It’s this kind of banter that keeps her sane. A few minutes out here with him, and she’s forgotten that what happens in that conference room will dictate the rest of her life.

Across the hallway, Emily giggles at the air, and it fits, doesn’t it? Here she is, already laughing at Mulder’s jokes like the Scully girl she is.

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It feels like a prisoner exchange when witness number one in their civil-that-sure-feels-like-a-criminal case joins Scully back in the hallway, and Mulder is called forward “to the stand.” He swears he found a penny in the parking lot this morning & promises to bring back good news. Scully’s pretty sure he made that story up, but she’s no less hopeful that it’ll come true.

Returned from her brief stint in captivity, Missy dives right into a discussion of her niece: “Look at her, Dana, she looks just like you!”

“Well, she does have fifty percent of my DNA,” Scully concedes with an admiring glance at the little girl.

“Have you gone over to see her?”

Scully shakes her head. “I didn’t think that would be proper.”

“Are you kidding me?” Missy retorts. “First of all, Brian and Cecily are very nice people, and I’m not supposed to say this, but I think there’s a chance that Emily will be yours. Secondly, this could be your only opportunity to interact with your daughter and you’re not gonna take it?”

Scully bites her lip. Her sister knows how to craft an argument. “Alright, but you have to back me up.”

“Trust me, I wanna see her just as badly as you.”

Scully steels herself, then approaches the woman in the polo shirt. “Hello.” She does a polite half-wave, which she’s never done before and which makes her feel ridiculous. “I’m the potential adoptee, and I was wondering if I could say hello to this precious little girl.” It all feels completely out of character, like she’s reading lines from a script. But this is it, this is her reality.

The woman’s face offers little in the way of recognition. “You can have a supervised visit with her, yes,” she recites, as rehearsed as Scully.

“Great.” Scully claps her hands together. “May I take her to my sister right over there?”

The woman nods. Scully lays her hands on Emily’s waist and lifts the girl gently from the woman’s lap. She is heavier than Scully imagined, or maybe just heavier than she hoped. Every ounce is a reminder of unseen existence and unwitnessed growth.

Emily does not balk, just stares up at her mother with those probing eyes.

“Hi baby girl,” Scully coos to her daughter as she settles her against her hip. “Can you say hi? Have you got that one yet?”

The girl blinks. “Ma-ma.”

Scully crooks her neck, tries to reign in her racing imagination. All babies do this at this age, don’t they? Calling every woman mama and every man dada. Emily’s no exception. And yet...for that to be the first word her daughter has ever said to her. God winked at her, and she’s glad to have caught it.

The pair makes it to Missy, who blows a kiss in Emily’s direction. “Hey there little one.” She extends her index finger, and the girl latches onto it.

Scully cradles her baby’s head, Emily’s fine hair soft beneath her fingers.

“She’s even-keeled for a baby,” Missy remarks, wiggling her finger and watching Emily crack a smile.

“Yes,” Scully gurgles out of the sheer joy. She settles into her chair with Emily in her lap. “Do you know what she said to me?”

Missy looks up. “What?”

“Mama.” Scully dons a triumphant grin. “She called me mama.”

“Oh, no way!” Missy squeals. It’s a bit too loud and sudden, making Emily jump. The ladies laugh, and Scully pulls her daughter in closer, kissing the crown of her head. She still has that baby smell; the freshness of new life and all its purity. Scully sighs. It must have been even stronger when she was born.

Scully closes her eyes. If she had one chance to pause life somewhere along the way, to linger in a perfect moment longer, she would do it right now and she would never regret it.

“My baby…” she breathes into Emily’s ear, hoping it will stick. That one day she’ll remember and find her way home, should she need to.

A warm tear slides down Scully’s cheek and lands in Emily’s lap, a dark drop on the girl’s corduroy pants. “Mama loves you, Emily.” She tightens her embrace. “That’s me,” she sniffs. “I love you, Emily.”

Observing this, Missy feels that she is an interloper and slips off to the bathroom, leaving mother and baby to have their moment.

Scully strokes the girl’s tiny palm with her thumb. She has missed so much already, and my god, she could miss so much more. What is love, if not sacrifice? Hadn’t that been the takeaway from each week of Sunday school?

The conference door opens, and Scully finds herself irritated that life has failed to pause. Oh, what wouldn’t she do to take the reins from God, even for a moment? She looks up at Mulder, doe-eyed as he processes the optical illusion that is Emily and her mother. Said mother sees the tenderness on Mulder’s face as he comes to terms with this sight, and something in both of them breaks, and something else opens.

Mulder approaches quietly, apprehensive about ruining the moment. Little does he know, he’s not ruining it; he’s completing it.

“Hey,” Scully swoons. “How was it?”

He’s too earnest to crack a joke right now. “Less nerve-wracking than I expected,” he murmurs. “Brain and Cecily are good people.”

Scully can’t help but wonder if they’re hammering this point about Brian and Cecily to make her feel better when the gavel falls in their direction. Mulder directs her train of thought away from this when he kneels in front of Emily. His eyes are as soupy as ever, Scully notices; she could sink right into them.

“May I?”

Scully chuckles under her breath, like a stranger has just asked if they could pet her dog. “Of course, Mulder. Say hi.”

Over the past weeks, Mulder spent considerable time anticipating this initial interaction. First impressions are important, after all, and there is no one he has wanted to impress more than this sweet girl. Ultimately, he decided that he didn’t care what their meeting was, as long as it would be. And now that he’s here, knelt in front of his two favorite girls, he’s ready to make a promise.

He envelops Emily’s closed fist with one hand and uses the other to caress Scully’s palm. “I want you to know,” he begins, shifting his gaze between mother and daughter, “that I’ll always be here for you.”

He looks to Scully, realizing that Emily is unable to comprehend what he is saying. “Regardless of Brian and Cecily’s choice, I am prepared to make every sacrifice so that you two can be a family. The family you deserve to be. I know what it’s like to not have that, and christ, Scully, I’m not letting you go through that. You’ve had enough for one lifetime.”

Scully’s face puckers. She is moved on a dimension that transcends the spiritual, if such a thing is possible. She closes her eyes, lets the tears slip out, then softens her focus on him.

“Thank you, Mulder...Fox,” she effuses, needing to heighten the intimacy. “Emily and I…” she kisses her daughter’s temple again. “Well, you know. You already know.” Her voice is somber almost, reminiscent of a wedding vow’s binding utterance.

Mulder smiles up at them, pats Scully’s hand. “I know. Me too.”

There are many phrases that could fill her blank, but he chose his favorite, and he’s got an inkling that he’s right.

Scully sucks in a breath, and it’s the first one that has ever counted. Earth is new to her, again.

The door opens a second time, and the lawyer approaches with Brian and Cecily behind her.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lace would like to take some time to think about their decision,” Tanya announces. “You will understand, they hope…?”

Scully nods, swallowing back a lump in her throat. She would like to break into a tantrum, throwing chairs and screeching every obscenity she knows. Begging please, please, don’t let me miss another heartbeat. Let me live in this Heaven I’ve found. But no answer is better than an immediate rejection, so she screws her lips into a smile and gives away two more handshakes.

“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Lace. I’m grateful for this opportunity.”

#you guysss i have been excited for this chapter since day one!!!#it only gets more emotional from here ahhhh #hope you enjoy <3 #i am hugging anyone who reads this #only the light fic #missy and scully fic #the x-files #txf fic #txf #fox mulder #dana scully #melissa scully #mine

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themissingmarvel · 5 years ago

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Kind Regards, Detective [Part 6]

(So, forgive me for this both: being long, and not having a lot of Loki in it. I understand if this chapter turns people off or doesn’t get a lot of love. I won’t be hurt by it. But it needed to be done. So hopefully I don’t lose readers but if I do, like I said, I understand.

Catch up: [Part 1] // [Part 2] // [Drabble] // [Part 3] // [Part 4] // [Drabble 2] // [Part 5]

Pairing: Detective Loki x fbi!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k [yikes]

Warnings: Language. Poor life choices. )

Back when Y/N was in undergrad, she remembered one of her classmates affectionately telling her she was afflicted with what was known as “resting bitch face”. She became known as the Queen of the RBF within her circles, and honestly it remained with her. But it was protective, and in times like this, when a precinct was staring at you, you had to protect yourself.

One of the things that would come up was a conflict of interest, she knew that immediately. Her supervising agent would be concerned about a package sent directly to her. No one would know the depth of it, though. They’d know it was in reference to her sister’s passing, but the song? The CD itself? She could lie. And she would. Even when her phone rang and she ignored it, she kept her face stoic and her eyes locked on the computer, scanning over the evidence collected from the scene still.

“Agent Y/N, there’s a call for you from the bureau-” a young officer, though not a rookie, popped his head in.

She didn’t even look up, “That’s cool.”

Loki glanced from her to the officer who looked more confused than anything. Clearly that was not the answer he was hoping for.

“I mean, they want to talk to you.” He suddenly got quieter. Meeker.

Again, she didn’t even pause, “Nice of them. I’ll send them a thank-you card later.”

Now the officer was confused, “Did you want to answer it out front or I can-”

“Tell them I’m dead. Or I’m in the bathroom. Whatever. I’m busy so please don’t come in again.” Her eyes glanced briefly from the screen to the man who got the hint, his mouth in a straight line as he backed out of the room, entirely missing David Loki’s very soft smirk.

But she was. Busy, that was. Not dead. She had found a few interesting leads, and was suddenly finding a rather disturbing pattern, “David, c’mere a sec. I need you to look at this and tell me I’m not crazy,” she looked across the table at the man who’d been poring over the papers and pictures, hating to look at bodies but knowing now was not the time to be squeemish. He thought his note was bad… hers was tenfold. Whatever it was. He didn’t know about her sister. Or any of her life, really. He knew what she had shared. He was vaguely terrified that this would stop all of it.

Standing, he walked over to where she was, a spreadsheet open, “So look,” she held up a finger, glancing back to the man who was leaning over, face by hers as he looked at the screen, the moment intense, though far from intimate, “if we follow the purchases, the television is old but beyond state-of-the-art, telling us it was pricy. And you don’t leave pricy things behind, especially if you think you can be traced. And when we tracked the generator down, it was from a different manufacturing company, so both were dismissed out of hand. But when we add in the piece about the phone company provider and the chemical weapon used… Look.”

She brought up a page of a very formal looking website, Safety in the palm of your hand was the caption under the large “West Company” logo in block letters at the top. David knew of them, but clearly Y/N knew more, “The company does a lot of work with technology and weapon engineering. The federal government has a contract with them, so we’ve worked with them before. David, they even have a lab on site…”

He stood back, looking down at her with focus and concern. Without the chemical agent to go off of, the connection might be a reach. But the fact that it all tied to one company, and one that would have direct links to technology to reach into… anything, meant it was a good chance that the person they needed would be there.

“So what do we do with this? I mean, that’s a huge company. And with a defense contract, they’re probably not gonna wanna talk to you,” David crossed his arms in front of his chest, concern on his features. She was a bloodhound who had finally picked up a scent and he had a sinking feeling she’d chase that scent, regardless of what came in her way.

Nodding, she closed the laptop, “Normally that’d be true, but I may have a way into the company records. I can’t divulge why. I just need you to trust me.” Her eyes were wide. And pleading. She had just been hit with a wrecking ball and already she was back on her feet, but David knew she was hurting. And pain made you do stupid things. But she was slowly becoming his weak spot.

Pushing back his hair he sighed, “Fine. What do we do next?”

Standing up and grabbing her phone that had more missed calls than she could reasonably get away with, she shrugged, “We don’t do anything. I make a call, and you keep going over evidence. I have to go back and grab something at the hotel. I left a file back there we’ll need to keep moving forward on this.”

There was something in her voice, her tone perhaps, or her body language. David would blame himself later, as he always did, for not noticing. He’d tell himself it was his fault. He should have known she wasn’t going to the hotel, or at least that wasn’t her final stop. And as she walked outside without her federal issued phone, only her keys and wallet in hand as she held her jacket tight, she understood what had to happen.

_____

She wasn’t lying. Not completely. She had gone to the hotel and grabbed her personal phone, the one she used for calling her parents, listening to music, listening to audiobooks when she was stuck on airplanes, or in this case, long car drives alone. But her first call had been, surprising to most, to Henry Best. The man was one of the top CEO and board members of West Company and one she knew better than most. It was the way she had into the company.

Henry had been surprised to hear her voice, though not disappointed. He had liked Y/N when he met her four years back, when she had just begun her profiling in the field. Back when she was still wet behind the ears, so to speak. And that she was calling on her personal phone made him even more curious, “Of course. Around when should I expect you?” His voice, smooth as silk with a ‘proper’ British accent, a voice that could melt a woman without effort, came forth.

Glancing at the dashboard of her car, Y/N shrugged, “GPS says it’s another hour. So around 3pm, if that’s all right? Honestly, I hate to barge in like this. And I know you’re doing more than a favor. Especially since the FBI doesn’t even know-”

There was a soft chuckle, the man on the other end smiling, “Please don’t apologize. It would be my pleasure to see you again. After all, it is you I have to thank for where I am now, is it not?” A genuine kind of thanks to his voice, though something else lingered. Perhaps not strong enough for the bluetooth in the car to detect.

Either way, she felt herself smiling as she eyed the guidance system, “That was all your own work, Henry. But we can talk more when I get there. Do I check in at the front desk?” She was adjusting herself in her seat, suddenly a little nervous. She really hadn’t thought this through. And she was still wearing… well, a sweater and jeans. And her hair wasn’t well done, either. Fuck, she really did not think this through.

“I’ll have someone waiting out front to valet the car, don’t worry about parking. Mark will bring you up. Take your time.” He was calm. Cool. Collected. More than he had been before. It was kind of nice.

She nodded, to no one in particular, “Will do. See you in an hour, Henry.” She clicked off the phone, continuing her drive.

Her phone rang again, though this time the number came up as Delete This Later, “Madison is on a rampage. And now I have some podunk Detective Loki- Hey, what kind of name is that even? Whatever, anyway, this dude is calling me wanting to know where you are. I made some shit up about you needing to coordinate with another office. I still have Madison on a rampage, though. He’s your boss. Remember him?”

Rolling her eyes, she was already regretting giving Adrian her personal number, “Thank you for covering. I’m actually headed to see Henry Best. Over at West Company. Who knew my name was so memorable?” She smirked.

Adrian huffed, “Just don’t do anything stupid. Well, more stupid than you already have. Wits about, right?”

She cocked a sideways smirk, “Always. And you know the deal. Call David at 3pm, when I’m due in New York to meet with Henry. I’ll text you the address. And you can give him this number. Otherwise the guy will have a heart attack,” she sighed softly.

There was quiet for a moment before Adrian spoke again, “What did he send you, Ladybug? That guy. I haven’t seen you like this since the Boston case when you almost bumped into the dude we were after. I’m worried.”

But she was quiet. Too quiet.

“Nothing’s gonna happen. I just have a feeling Henry will be able to help.”

___

He had called her. He had called her twice before realizing the ringing was coming from inside her bag. He had thrown his own phone across the room, though one cased in an Otterbox after the officer manager was tired of him breaking phones. Instead, it bounced off and hit the ground. He had wanted to break something. Fucking anything.

It was a flurry of words after that, David having rolled his sleeves up, his hair repeatedly needing to be slicked back as his face looked vaguely similar to John Wick finding his dog dead. He kept telling himself he was angry because she was in harm’s way, and that was true, but there was something more. This woman he had felt vulnerable with, who had in turn shared her own vulnerabilities, was gone. And he knew that she was gone because she was chasing something that not even God himself could stop her from getting. She was on a mission.

David was a driven man just as much, however, and he had gotten through to Y/N’s unit by sheer force of will on the phone. He had kept it together enough that he was actually able to get through to someone named “Adrian Dent” who worked closely with her. The one who had texted her ‘ladybug’ and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like Adrian. No idea why, but when the smug asshole gave him a regurgitated message about her meeting with another agent in another city, he understood it was a lie.

But what else did he have? He was sitting by himself in the conference room they were using, staring at a laptop that had the company name on it. And he knew. He didn’t know exactly, but he knew. And fuck waiting. Fuck telling his chief. Fuck all of it. He was headed to New York City just the same as she was. ____

It had been strange, walking into the large, sleek office building. The floors were marble and the colors back and silver were clearly the aesthetic. She had trailed behind a young man who looked to be no older than twenty-two, probably scored this gig right out of a prestigious college, wanting to work his way into the defense industry. What a strange goal. No stranger, perhaps, than wanting to be an FBI Field Agent.

He was quiet as he lead her up, his earpiece wired in as they took a private elevator to the… damn, fiftieth floor? Last time she could have sworn it was forty. But that was four years ago.

Stepping off the elevator that looked like something out of Blade Runner, she followed the assistant carefully down the hall, carpeted in black with dark wood lining it. Far fewer people here. And it was clear, by the large double doors ahead, that this was where she was going, “Mr. Best is inside, you may enter.” He looked almost smug. She didn’t belong. He knew it. She knew it.

Shrugging off her winter jacket, she knocked on the door, heading the rather gentle, “Please, come in,” beckoning her forth.

It had been four years since she saw him, but Henry looked amazing. He had before but… there was something else now. His dark blonde hair was styled on his head, not slicked down but a certain casual and professional look to it. He had on a white business shirt, black tie tight around his neck though with his sleeves rolled up. And he, of course, was gorgeous. Blue eyes that felt like they could stop you in your tracks, angular features that made him all the more distinguished. He looked good.

And the office was amazing. An entire wall was purely windows, looking out at the impressive New York City skyline. It was like being in a movie. Her entire life she had never existed in a world like this, and now she was investigating a serial killer in an office that looked so extraordinary it hurt. Book shelves, a large desk by the back where he had been standing, oak, of course. He smiled, a sort of crooked smile that, were she paying attention, would have concerned her more. But he was smiling as he walked over, “Oh, please, let me take that. Shouldn’t have you lugging this around,” he smiled as he got close, taking the jacket from her hands, draping it over a chair nearby.

Nervous, suddenly, she pushed back her hair, “Thank you… and sorry about not being dressed for the occasion… Like I said, kind of a rush deal getting here,” she laughed nervously, fidgeting.

“Nonsense. You look wonderful, if I may say so. Would you care to take a seat? I wager you’ve just driven a bit of a ways, so I’ll understand if you’d like to stand.” There was care in his voice and tone, and suddenly she was struck by how strange it was. She tended to trust her gut, and suddenly it was telling her to be aware.

Smiling with her placating, plastic smile, she shook her head, “I’m happy to sit.”

He looked satisfied with the answer, gesturing to the table in the corner, two cups and a teapot on it, “Please, take a seat. May I offer you some tea?” He sat across from her, his movements graceful and purposeful, and perhaps almost serpent-like.

She held up a hand, “No thank you. Long drive back, don’t want to have to make pit stops,” she smiled at the man who looked�� content. Relaxed. Hardly what she remembered before.

He was pouring himself a cup, Y/N looking around as she noticed a plant on his desk. Well, one. And flowers on his window. Gorgeous lilies. And orchids. Succulents were on two shelves of the book cases. She couldn’t help but smile, “Quite a lot of greenery around your office, Henry.”

Taking a sip of the tea, he smiled, “After we spoke those years ago, I took you up on your suggestion. I began gardening. Took a month off, worked on myself, and began gardening. Hobbies really are a lifesaver, aren’t they?” He was watching her now, able to see that brief moment of her eyes widening, ever so slightly, her breath catching in her throat. He could see her wheels turning. But she was no mere rabbit. Fear was not something that drove her.

And true, in her own mind she was rationalizing it, “I’m glad it seemed to work for you. Having a hobby like that can be therapeutic. And it seems like our meetings got you back on track. How have things been now?”

Of course, she was referring to the incident that had lead her to his office years ago. He had lost his wife in a rather tragic car accident. From what he had told the police, they had gotten into a fight, and before he could stop her, she had gotten her keys and driven off. She’d wound up running a red light at a major intersection and was killed on impact.

Something was clicking, now. His face changed every so slightly when she asked how things had been. Hobbies. Not just gardening. And now she was poking at the wound.

He nodded, quite like the gentleman he was, “Much better. Work has been consuming much of my time. I imagine you’re in a similar boat. I always sensed we were quite alike in that way,” he placed the tea back down and smiled at her.

There was a feeling of anger that came with the comment, though she was unsure why. It wasn't rude in any way, nor did it infer anything negative about her. But it felt personal.

“Speaking of work… I’m here because I think I have a lead on my case. And not to be an alarmist, I’m somewhat concerned they’re linked with your company somehow,” she eyed him carefully.

He looked out the window with a bit of a chuckle, “We have quite a few employees, you know. Do you have anything more to go off of? I’d love to help you, but that’s quite a broad brush to be painting with, Y/N,” his smile was daring this time. He was playing with her. What may not have been personal now was. But he was fishing, too. He wanted to see what she had. If she’d divulge.

She was many things in this world. Stupid was not on that list.

“If you could set me up with someone in human resources, I might be able to go over a filter given some of the profiles I have set up. Think you could make an exception for me?” She forced a smile, hoping, perhaps, she was wrong about that feeling in her gut. The feeling that was screaming at her, louder now, telling her to get out of the building. To find her car. But he had that, didn’t he? He had insisted he park it for her. Insisted he take her up through the private elevator. And she had complied.

Maybe she was wrong.

“Were I a different man, I might argue against it. But you’ve done quite a bit for me, Y/N, more than you know. You helped me realize my potential in those meetings. The kind of man I could be. And so of course, Agent Y/L/N, I would be more than honored to help. After what you’ve done for me. Truly, it stayed with me.” He smiled. And he was being honest. Sincere. She had made an impact in his life that had changed the entire course of his world. He had gone from a man on the brink of losing his life to drugs and alcohol over the loss of his true love, to a man who had channeled his grief into something else. He understood what it meant to lose.

A feeling of relief washed over her and she smiled, more sincere this time, “That’s really kind of you. And if it means anything, I always knew you’d come back from it. It’s why I recommended the board keep you on. We all have choices in life, I’m glad you made yours.”

A small ‘chirp’ came from the digital watch on the man’s wrist, looking down as he grimaced slightly, “Seems I’ve had an unfortunate emergency arise. I’ve got your number, so I’ll be sure to give you a call when I can locate someone in HR who can work remotely. Wouldn’t want you taking the trek back and forth from Conyers again, would we? You said over the phone the Detective you’re working with is stationed there as well,” He smiled as he stood, the agent doing the same.

He handed her the jacket she’d come in with, walking her to the door. And for a moment, she knew she could walk out and it would be the end of it. Her gut would stop screaming at her, now from the top of its lungs, and maybe she could get out unscathed. She could simply walk to the elevator and find a way to do things on her terms. She knew, deep down, that she could walk out the door confident in her own beliefs and he would be confident that she had only the brief terror that prey does when suspecting a predator nearby.

Instead, she turned as she walked out the door, her eyes locking onto his, “I meant to ask, you have so many different plants and flowers, do you have any favorites? I’m a lavender woman, myself,” she smiled strongly, forcing herself to speak now as she felt the rest of herself coming undone.

And he smiled. The smile that would seal in every fear she had, every terror that she would feel, every nightmare that would haunt her, and she knew that look in his eyes with that smile as he spoke, “Oh, my dear, it’s roses I love best. Give my kindest regards to Detective Loki, won’t you?”

It took every ounce of strength she had to stay standing as he closed the door with the look of a man she had seen once. The man who had fallen apart but was wearing the mask of something else. She understood his comment, now. Two sides of the same coin. Two people shaped by tragedy. Two lives changed in a moment. And a grin on his face that felt like a bullet to her chest.

Kind Regards indeed.

Fuck.

(Tagging: @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @is-it-madness @detecellie @doritosandavocados @oscarflysaac @peccobagnaia @fgtakbrjbdl @miss-missing-patd send me a message to be added/removed)

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago

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Time Started: 1:13AM. Date: Thursday, January 7, 2021.

1) First Name Spelled Backwards: Einahpets.

2) Middle Name Spelled Backwards: I’m not sharing that.

3) Last Name Spelled Backwards: Or that.

4) Your Half-Birthday: Towards the end of this month, January 28th.

5) What type of milk do you drink? I don’t drink it by itself, but I use soy or almond milk in things.

6) What is the most sentimental thing you own? Oh, a lot of my things are sentimental to me.

7) Have any imaginary friends? No.

8 ) When was the last time you brushed your teeth? Yesterday. It’s 1:17AM; I haven’t brushed them yet today.

9) Do you listen to Christmas music in July? No.

10) What is the first thing that comes to mind when I say January?: I think of the new year.

11) May?: Ugh, summer is right around the corner.

12) November?: The holidays and fall.

13) July?: Miserable summer heat and my birthday. 14) April?: Easter and rain.

15) February?: Hearts and my brother’s birthday.

16) October?: Halloween, scary movies, fall.

17) August?: Dreadful summer weather.

18 ) March?: Green and my dad’s birthday.

19) December?: Christmas, of course.

20) June?: Summer D:

21) September? My mom’s birthday and that fall will soon be coming.

21) What color is your blanket? Rose gold.

22) What was the last movie you bought? I haven’t bought a movie in a long time, so I don’t remember.

23) Last CD you bought? *shrug* It’s been several years since I’ve bought a CD.

24) What radio station do you listen to? None anymore. My parents and brother all play their Spotify in their cars and those are the cares I ride in, so.

25) Are you the only child, oldest child, middle child, or youngest child? I’m the middle kid.

26) If you do have brother(s) or sister(s) put them in alphabetical order, including yourself: Jon, Richard, and me (Stephanie).

27) Do you have anything on your bedroom walls? I do.

28 ) How many windows in your home? Two. We have our sliding glass door that goes to the backyard as well if that counts.

29) How many pairs of shoes do you own? Like 5 or 6.

30) What's the weirdest song title you've ever heard of? There’s been many, but of course I’m totally blanking. 31) What's the worst movie you've ever seen? Not the worst, but a bad one that comes to mind that I saw recently is Sinister.

32) Whats the worst CD you've ever listened to? Hmm.

33) What US State would you NEVER want to visit? *shrug* There’s a lot I do want to visit, though. I don’t know if there’s one I’d NEVER visit, just ones that don’t particularly pique my interest.

34) What country would you NEVER want to visit? Uhhh.

35) What is your least favorite color? Brown.

36) What is your favorite flavor Fanta (the soda)? The strawberry one. I haven’t had that in yearsssss.

37) Do you have any scars? If so, tell me about them....: I have a lot of scars, most of which are from surgeries.

38) Do you know anybody in the Army, Navy, Marines, or any other group (currently or a Veteran)? Nope.

39) What color goes good with blue? White or yellow.

40) Green? Gray.

41) Grey? You can pair gray with a lot of colors. 42) Orange? Black.

43) Red? White or black.

44) Yellow? Black, white, blue.

45) Purple? Some shades of blue.

46) What is your favorite character in 'Harry Potter'? Snape.

47) 'Lord Of The Rings'? I never got into that.

48)'Grease'? I didn’t have a particular favorite.

49) Have you ever seen 'Life Is Beautiful'? Nope.

50) What about 'Monsters Inc.'? Yes.

51) Do you like Scooby Doo? Yeah. I liked it growing up. It’s a nostalgic thing for me.

52) Describe your perfect place to live (imaginary or not): A beautiful beach home with my own private beach area.

53) Does your back hurt? Of course.

54) Do you collect anything? If so, what? Giraffe stuffed animals and knickknacks, keychains, Baby Yoda/Grogu stuff...

55) Have you ever been to camp? Which camp? I’ve been to science camp and Girl Scout camp.

56) Do you have a car? If yes, do you call it anything? If so what? No, I don’t drive.

57) If you don't have a car, would you name it? If so, what? I don’t think I would, but who knows.

58 ) What is your perfect car? *shrug* A nice, functioning one?

59) What family member are you closest to? My mom and younger brother.

60) What family member do you wish you were closer to? I miss being close with my cousins like I used to be.

61) Do you consider pets as family? They are family.

62) Do you look at a calendar daily? No. 63) What is your least favorite holiday? Valentine’s Day has just been another day for me, so.

64) Make up your own quote: No.

64) Do you like getting air-mail? I don’t think that’s a thing anymore and hasn’t been for quite a long time?

65) Would you ever go on a cruise? No.

66) How many phones do you have in your home? 6 working ones that are currently used and who knows how many old cell phones my family and I still have.

67) Do you own or wear a watch? Nope.

68) Do you wear any jewelry? I haven’t in awhile.

69) Where do you wish you were right now? I’m good with being at home.

70) With whom? My parents, brother, and doggo are here.

71) Doing what? I’m enjoying doing this and listening to an ASMR video at the moment.

72) Have you ever had a sepia photo taken of you?: Yes.

73) What is your least favorite WB movie? I don’t feel like thinking about which movies are WB movies or looking them up. 74) Do you own any hats? Is yes, what kinds? Yeah, beanies and baseball style caps.

75) Do you own anything that is older than you? Yes.

76) How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Never enough, but last night I think I really only got 2-3 hours. 77) Have you ever seen snow? Yes. 78 ) Have you ever won a ribbon? Yes.

79) Do you save old birthday/Christmas/whatever cards given to you? I do.

80) How many clocks are in your home? I don’t feel like thinking about that either right now.

81) Ever been to Disneyland? …or Disneyworld? I’ve been to Disneyland several times, but not to Disney World so far.

82) Ever been to Universal Studios? Yeah, back when I was 7. I’d like to go now and see the Harry Potter stuff.

83) Ever seen the cockpit of an airplane? No.

84) Ever made a movie? My cousins and I did stuff like that when we were younger, my friend and I did that once for fun, and there was one I made for a class project.

85) Geometry or Algebra? Ew, math. We don’t get along.

86) Poems or short stories? Short stories.

87) AIM or MSN? I was an AIM girl back in the day.

88) MSN or Yahoo? I used Yahoo Messenger sometimes back in the day, too. I currently still use Yahoo for my email.

89) AIM or Yahoo? AIM.

90) Windows or MAC? MAC.

91) What is your least favorite number? I don’t have a least favorite, but my favorite is 8.

92) What was the last thing you said? “Oh wow.”

93) What are you sitting on? My chair.

94) Have you been outside today? Nope. It’s 1:48 in the morning, but I don’t have plans to go out at all later on either.

95) What have you done today? So far, just scrolled through Tumblr, listened to ASMR, and did surveys. I’m going to make my nightly bowl of ramen after this. 96) Do you like apple or orange juice? Ew, neither. I’m not a juice fan.

97) Do you like cats or dogs more? Dogs.

98) What is your most favorite reptile? Uh, none. I’m a scardy cat.

99) Would you rather fish or hunt? Fish out of the two, but I don’t have any interest doing that either.

100) Are you sleepy? Of course I am.

Time Ended: 1:50AM.

#personal #text #survey #surveys #100 questions

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twihardon · 5 years ago

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As Time Goes By

Author’s Note: This is chapter one of a very long series. It will not get updated often. If it does, that means a miracle has happened. It will not be very good. This is more of a story for me than other people. Warnings will be listed in the author’s note of each chapter. This chapter has some very minimal swearing. Like a singular f-bomb. This was recently edited because I hated it.

Chapter One: Dad’s on a Hunting Trip

“Whoa, easy, tiger.”

“Dean?” Sam asked, out of breath from the fight with his brother. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re out of practice.” Dean teased. Sam easily flips Dean” over and pins him to the floor. “Or not,” he laughs. “Get off me.”

“Dean, what the hell are you doing here?” Sam asks as he helps Dean off the floor.

“I was looking for a beer.”

“Sam?” Jess calls out, turning on the light.

“Jess, hey,” Sam answers. “Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica.”

“Wait, your brother Dean?” The blonde asks in confusion.

The conversation is interrupted by three loud knocks on the door.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean grumbles.

“What?” Sam asks as he watches Dean walk to the door and open it.

“You know,” the young woman on the other side says, “Someone could’ve told me the elevator doesn’t work.

“Someone,” Dean glared at her, “was supposed to wait in the car.”

“Maggie?” Sam’s face softened as his sister walked into the room. “You’re walking?”

Maggie leans on her cane and shrugs, “I thought it’d be a nice surprise.” Sam wastes no time walking over and embracing her in a hug. “Whoa, okay, Sammy. Missed you too.”

Sam lets go of her and steps back, “What are you guys doing here?”

“Just some private family business,” Dean says then looks over at Jess, “You don’t mind us borrowing your boyfriend here for a minute do you?”

Before Jess can answer, Sam does, wrapping his arm around her waist, looking smug, “No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her.”

“Umm, okay,” Maggie looked between her brothers, “Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.”

“So he’s working overtime on a “Miller Time” shift. He’ll stumble back in sooner or later.”

“Dad’s on a hunting trip,” Dean clarifies, “and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

The smugness from his face fell, “Jess, excuse us,” Sam says, “We’ll be right outside.” He kissed her temple and grabbed his jacket.

“Hang on,” Maggie interrupted him as he put on some shoes, “I’m not going down those stairs again.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have gone up them in the first place,” Dean shot back.

“Maybe—“

“Stop!” Sam finished tying his shoe and stood up, “I’ll...give you a lift.”

“Really?” said Maggie, her face lighting up.

“Yeah just,” Sam sighed and turned around, “hop on.” Maggie squealed in delight and, with some difficulty, hopped onto Sam’s back.

Dean rolled his eyes “It was nice meeting you, Jess,” He nodded to the blonde and started the door.

“Yeah, nice meeting you, Jess! Tally ho, Samuel.”

Sam turned to his girlfriend, “I’ll be right back.”

Jess followed Sam and Maggie to the door and shut it behind them. She could faintly hear Maggie say something along the lines of “she’s so pretty” and Sam reply with “I know, stop choking me.”

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“You know there’s EVP on that?” Sam said as he leaned over the open trunk of the impala. After setting Maggie down Dean started filling him in on their dad’s last case. A string of missing men over twenty years.

“Not bad, Sammy,” said Dean, “Kind of like riding a bike, isn't it?”

“Anyway,” Maggie stood up from where she was leaning against the car, “I slowed the message down and ran it through a Goldwave, took out the hiss, and this is what we got.”

Dean pressed play. The distorted noise from their dad’s last message now sounded like a woman saying, “I can never go home.”

“Never go home…” Sam pondered.

“Look, I know it’s been a while since we’ve all been together,” Maggie pleaded with Sam, “but Dean and I really think something’s wrong. I’m sorry we showed up like this—“

“—I’m not,” Dean cut her off and stared at his brother, “In almost two years, we’ve never bothered you, never asked you for a thing.”

Sam looked away and sighed, “...alright. I’ll go. I’ll help you guys find him, but I have to be back first thing Monday.”

“What’s first thing Monday?” Dean asked.

“I have an interview.”

“What, a job interview? Skip it.”

Sam huffed, “It’s a law school interview, and it’s my whole future on a plate.”

“Law school?” Maggie asked, impressed.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “So we got a deal or not?”

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In hindsight, the stairs might have been a bad idea. Maggie hissed as she rubbed her right hip.

“Told you to stay in the car,” Dean reprimanded. He sat in the front seat, his leg bouncing up and down.

“I know,” Maggie agreed. He wasn’t wrong. “I missed him.”

“I know.”

Maggie knew Dean wasn’t really mad about not staying in the car. He was just as excited to see Sam as she was. Ever since the...incident, however, her dad and Dean had been a pair of overbearing, mother hens. Which explains why their dad taking off and going radio silent was so weird.

“God, he still takes forever to pack,” Dean grumbled, checking his watch.

“It hasn’t been that long,” Maggie slowly turned and lifted her leg to rest it across the backseat. “He’s probably saying goodbye to Jess. She seems nice.”

“Nice is...one word,” Dean said cheekily.

“Gross.”

“Dude, she is way out of his league.”

“And way out of yours too.”

“Hey!” Dean shouted. His pride was only a little hurt by his little sister’s teasing.

“Shut up, there he is.” Maggie pointed to the entrance to the building.

Sam walked over to the car and put his bag in the trunk. He climbed into the front seat and looked between his siblings, “Ready?”

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

“Watch out!”

BOOM.

BLACK.

Maggie jolted awake.

“You okay?” Sam asked from the front seat.

“Yeah,” Maggie nodded and tried to catch her breath, “Just a bad dream.”

“You want to talk about it?”

Maggie shook her head, “Not really.” She straightened up in her seat and looked around. “Where’s Dean?”

“Inside,” Sam said, then turned back to sort through the cassette tapes he found under the seat. “You know,” he said turning back towards her, “If you ever want to talk about it--”

“--I’m fine. Thanks, though. I appreciate it.” Maggie cut him off and gave him a small smile. He turned back around and she sighed.

Dean walked outside of the gas station they were parked at carrying a bag filled with junk food. “Hey!” He shouted at the twins, “You want breakfast?”

“No, thanks,” Sam replied.

Maggie nodded and reached out of the window to take the bag from Dean. She pulled out a coke and a bag of jerky.

“So how’d you pay for that stuff?” Sam asked, “You and Dad still running credit card scams?”

“Hunting doesn’t exactly pay, Sam,” Maggie opened up the jerky and held one over the seat, “Want one?”

“No.” Sam scoffed and shook his head. Dean finished up and climbed back into the driver’s seat. “I swear, man, you got to update your cassette tape collection.”

“Thank you!” Maggie exclaimed in agreement.

Dean looked between the twins, “Why.”

“Well, for one-- they’re cassette tapes, and two--” Sam pulls a few tapes out and reads them, “Black Sabbath, Motorhead, Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock.”

“House rules--driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.”

“That’s why I invested in one of these babies,” Maggie pulls a CD-player out of her backpack and puts her headphones on, “Have fun, Sammy.”

“You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old. It’s Sam, okay?”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you, the music’s too loud,” Maggie shouts as she turns up her music.

Dean laughs and turns up his music as they drive off.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------“Okay. Thank you.” Maggie said, hanging up her phone, “There’s no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue.”

“That’s something, I guess,” said Sam.

“Check it out.” Dean nodded at the road. Ahead of them was a bridge with multiple police cars and officers. Dean pulled off to the side of the road. He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a couple of fake ID cards. He hands one to Maggie and grins at Sam. “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Sam said as he climbed out of the car. He turned to Maggie who was carefully stretching her leg, “What are you doing?”

Maggie shrugged and started following Dean toward the crime scene, “Working the case.”

The twins followed Dean up to the bridge where two officers were talking.

“You had another one like this last month, didn’t you?” Dean interrupted their conversation.

“And who are you?” said the first officer.

“Federal marshals,” stated Dean as he and Maggie flashed their badges.

“You three are a little young for marshals, aren’t you?”

Dean laughed, “Thanks, that’s awfully kind of you.” He walked over to the car, “You did have another one just like this, correct?”

“Yeah, that’s right, about a mile up the road. There have been others before that.”

“So, this victim,” Sam asks, “you knew him?”

The officer nods, “Town like this, everybody knows everybody.”

“Any connections between the victims, besides that they’re all men?” Maggie asks while getting a closer look at the car.

“No. Not so far as we can tell.”

Sam walked over to the car, joining his siblings, “So what’s the theory?”

“Honestly, we don’t know.” replied the cop, “Serial murderer, kidnapping ring?”

Dean nodded his head, “Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I’d expect out of you guys.”

Sam stared wide-eyed at his brother while Maggie stomped on his foot with her cane.

“Thank you for your time,” she gave an apologetic look to the officer while she ushered Sam forward.

Dean caught up to them and leaned down to Maggie’s ear, “Why did you crush my foot?”

“Why do you have to talk to the police like that?” Sam fired back for her.

“Come on,” Dean moved in front of the twins, forcing them to stop walking, “They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves.”

Maggie cleared her throat and looked over Dean’s shoulder. Dean turned to see both the Sheriff of the town and two very real FBI agents.

“Can I help you, kids?” The sheriff asked.

“No, sir, we’re just leaving,” Dean nodded at the agents as they walked past the group, “Agent Mulder. Agent Scully.”

The siblings walk past the sheriff back to the impala.

“Well,” Maggie says, as she carefully lowers herself into the backseat, “that could’ve gone worse.”

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

“This is dumb,” Maggie mumbled to herself in the backseat.

The boys had decided to go talk to the victim’s girlfriend alone after Maggie maybe, definitely, had trouble getting out of the car. She had no one to blame but herself for the pain she was in. She refused to take one of her pills, walked up an ungodly amount of stairs, then sat in a car for hours.

Being alone, however, gave her time to think about what was going to happen after the case. It hadn’t been that long since Maggie heard from Sam. They talked at least once a month, but Sam and Dean? They’d barely spoken in almost two years. Would it go back to that after they dropped him off? Would they talk more? She hoped for the latter. Maggie missed Sam but she didn’t realize how much until she saw him.

No matter what, Maggie decided, after this case, she’s not letting things go back to how they were. Maybe she’d even get Sam and their dad back in contact. Whoa, okay, let’s not go crazy, she thought, baby steps.

“Finally,” Maggie said when she saw her brothers walking toward the car.

“Well?” she asked, “Anything?”

“Local legend,” said Sam, “Some woman got murdered on Centennial.”

“So, what do we do now?”

“Hit the books. Sam, you got a sixth sense for these things--where’s the local library?”

“Ha. Ha.”

At the library, Sam, Dean, and Maggie gathered around one of the computers. Dean, who was in the middle, searched “Female Murder Hitchhiker.” The three waited until the screen loaded, showing zero results.

“Let me try,” Sam urged.

He reached for the mouse only to have Dean pull it away, “I’ve got it.” Instead of asking again, Sam pushed Dean out of his chair. “Dude!”

“Hey,” Maggie whispered, “People are staring. Stop acting like children.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other and then mumbled a couple of weak apologies. Sam tried another variation of Dean’s previous search only to get the same results.

“Hang on,” Maggie stretched her bad leg out, “angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. Sam nodded his head.

“Well, maybe it’s not murder. Try suicide.” Sam types in “Female Suicide Centennial Highway” and hits ‘GO’. A few seconds later an article popped up. “That was in 1981.”

“Constance Welch, 24 years old, Jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river,” Sam reads from the article.

“Does it say why she did it?” Dean asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Sam scrolls down on the screen, “An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both died.”

“Oh,” Maggie sighs sadly.

"'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch." Sam reads off.

Dean takes a closer look at the screen and points to the picture of the bridge where Constance committed suicide, “The bridge look familiar to you?”

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

The siblings walked to the edge of the bridge. Dean braced his arms against the railing and looked down at the water rushing below, “So this is where Constance took the swan dive.”

“Apparently,” Maggie glanced around the crime scene. “Gotta say, this place gets a lot creepier at night.” The lack of movement from officers bustling around, the only light being that of the moon, the fact that someone was murdered there...calling it creepy would be an understatement.

“Do you think Dad would have been here?” Sam looked over at his older brother.

“Well, he’s chasing the same story, and we’re chasing him,” Dean answered and moved away from the ledge. He turned away and started walking towards the other side of the bridge.

“Okay, so what now?” Sam asked. Both he and Maggie followed Dean.

Now, we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while.”

Sam stops and sighs, “Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by—”

“Monday,” Dean turns to look at Sam, “Right. The interview.”

Maggie took a step forward and caught Dean’s eye. She knew where this was going and she didn’t have a lot of time to diffuse the situation. “We did promise him we’d have him back in time.”

“Thank you,” Sam muttered quietly to his sister.

Dean looked between his younger siblings, “You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?”

“Maybe,” Sam shrugged, “Why not?”

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?”

Sam stepped closer, anger seeping into his features, “No, and she’s not ever going to know.”

“Well, that’s healthy,” Dean nodded his head, “You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.”

“And who’s that?” Sam asked as he followed Dean who had turned to walk away.

“You’re one of us,” Dean said, still walking forward.

Sam walked faster and cut Dean off, forcing him to stop, “No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.”

“Guys—“ Maggie limped up to them, trying to get in between them.

“You have a responsibility to—“ Dean started.

“To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures we wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.” Sam interrupted.

Dean grabbed Sam by the collar of his jacket and shoved him up against the railing of the bridge.

“Guys, please…” Maggie tugged on Dean’s sleeve. He looked at his sister. Her eyes were pleading with him to stop. He sighed and looked back at Sam.

“Don't talk about her like that,” Dean let go of Sam and stepped away. The brothers stared at each other before Maggie broke their concentration.

“Uh, we’ve got company,” Maggie pointed to the figure on the bridge. The figure was a woman in a white dress standing on the bridge’s railing. The woman walked forward and stepped off the bridge.

Sam and Dean bolted towards the edge while Maggie limped behind them. The boys learned over the ledge, finding that the woman had disappeared.

“Where did she go?” Dean asked, confusion on his face.

“I don’t know,” Sam answered.

Just then, the sound of an engine filled the air. The siblings looked at the impala just as the headlights turned on.

“Who’s driving your car?” Maggie asked and looked at Dean. Staring at the car, he pulled his keys out his pocket for her to see. The engine revved, the tires squealed, then the car barreled towards the siblings.

“Go, go, go!” Dean yelled before the three of them took off

Maggie was quickly falling behind her brothers until Sam grabbed her. She dropped her cane and held onto her brother as he practically dragged her forward. The three jumped over the railing just in time for the car to come to a stop.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked Maggie who was hanging from the bridge next to him.

“Yeah,” she grunted, “I don’t think I can pull myself up.”

“Okay, Okay. One second.” Sam pulled himself up and over the railing before leaning down to help his sister. “Where’s Dean?” He asked after pulling her up.

“Dean!” Maggie shouted over the bridge’s ledge.

“What?” An annoyed Dean shouted back. The twins looked over by the river’s shore to see a very muddy Dean pull himself out of the water.

“Are you alright?” Sam called out to him.

Dean gives a thumbs up, “Super.”

Sam laughs and moves away from the ledge. He looked over at Maggie who was supporting herself against the railing. “Where’d you drop your cane?”

“Um,” Maggie shook her head slowly while trying to catch her breath, “Somewhere over there?” She pointed to the general area they were before the car started.

Sam walked over there and found the cane. It was broken from being run over and held up some of the pieces to his sister. “Do you have a spare?” He asked her.

Maggie laughed, “That was the spare.”

“Are you kidding me?” The twins looked over to see Dean had finally joined them. “That’s like the fourth one you’ve broken,” he said annoyed.

“Okay, to be fair, I didn’t break it,” Maggie pointed at the impala, “your car did.”

“She didn’t do anything,” Dean walked over to the car and opened the hood. “She didn’t mean it, baby,” he muttered to the car. The twins looked at each other and shook their heads at their brother’s antics.

“Your car alright?” Sam asked, coming to stand beside Dean.

He closed the hood, “Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a bitch!” Dean sits on the hood and Maggie walked over to settle next to him.

“Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure.” Sam sat next to Dean, “So where's the job go from here, genius?”

Dean throws up his arms in frustration and flicks mud off his hands. “Ew!” Maggie exclaims and leans away from him, “You got some on me!” She wipes away at a splash of mud on her shoulder.

“Sorry.”

Sam sniffed the air and looked at Dean, “You smell like a toilet.”

Dean stands up and starts walking toward the driver side, “You know what? Everyone in the car.” The twins just looked at each other and tried not to laugh. “Now!” Dean yelled.

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

Sam picked the lock to the motel door. He was always better than Maggie and Dean at that. The door opened and the siblings quickly rushed inside. Looking around, their dad had definitely been there. Maps, newspaper clippings, pictures, and notes littered the walls. Every surface was covered with books or evidence.

“Woah,” Maggie said as she flipped through a book on the desk.

Dean turned on a light and picks up a half-eaten hamburger, “I don’t think he’s been here for a couple of days at least.”

Sam bends down to run his fingers through a salt line on the floor, “Salt, cats-eye shells...he was worried, trying to keep something from coming in.”

“What are those?” Maggie asked Dean who was looking at papers on one of the walls.

“Centennial Highway victims,” he answers.

Maggie joins him over at the wall and reads over the missing posters for each victim. “I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There’s always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?”

Sam walks across the room to another wall covered in papers. “Dad figured it out.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, him and Maggie walking over to join Sam.

“He found the same article we did,” Sam points to the printed article, “Constance Welch. She’s a woman in white.”

“You sly dogs,” Dean smirked at the wall of victims. He laughs to himself then turns back to the twins, “All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.”

“Maybe she has another weakness,” Maggie offers.

“Well, Dad would want to make sure,” Dean heads back over to the article, “He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?”

“No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though,” Sam taps the picture of the man in the article, “I'd go ask her husband.”

“If he’s still alive,” Maggie crosses her arms.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees.

“All right. Why don't you two, uh, see if you can find an address, I'm gonna get cleaned up.” Dean says, looking away from the article. He starts to head into the bathroom when Sam stops him.

“Hey, Dean?” Dean stops and turns toward Sam, “What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry.”

Dean raised his hand to stop Sam, “No chick-flick moments.”

Sam laughs and nods his head, “All right. Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“You guys are morons,” Maggie shakes her head and eases down onto the bed. Sam laughs again and Dean disappears into the bathroom. Something catches Sam’s eye and he goes to check it out. Hanging from the mirror is a rosary and next to it, stuck in the frame is a picture of their family.

“Wow,” Sam smiles sadly as he picks up the picture.

Maggie tilts her head at her brother, “What?” Sam walks over to Maggie and sits next to her, holding the picture for her to see. “Wow is right.” Sam just nods. “I hope he’s okay,” Maggie states sadly.

“Me too,” Sam replies quietly. He hands the picture over to his sister. “How are you?” He looks at Maggie, “Like seriously?”

“I’m okay,” Maggie reaches into her bag and pulls out a book. “Nightmares every other night and I’m in near-constant pain,” She places the picture in between some pages for safekeeping, “But I’m doing better.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Maggie looks at Sam, “If I was—,” he clarifies.

“No,” Maggie cuts him off immediately then looks down. “I made a bad call.” Sam nods. “I knew it was a bad call when I made it. And that’s on me, but hey,” Maggie, smiles up at her twin, “I got a cool cane out of it. And maybe if this hunting thing gets too much one day I can retire and become a fancy lawyer like you.”

“I cannot see you as a lawyer,” Sam laughs at her.

“Seriously?” Maggie asks then puts on her best serious face, “I object to that statement. You’re in contempt.”

“That’s what the judge says.”

“I am the judge,” she goes back to smiling, “Watch out.”

Sam stands, “Youre so weird.” He pulls out his phone and nods to the door, “I’m gonna go call Jess. I’ll be right back.”

“That’s ‘I’ll be right back, your Honor,’” Maggie shouts as Sam leaves the room, “Love-struck dork.” She mutters to herself while pulling out her CD player.

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

“Hey, guys,” Dean came out of the bathroom, finally clean and shrugged on his jacket, “I’m starving. I’m gonna grab a little something to eat at that diner down the street. You want anything?”

“No,” Sam responded then went back to looking at his phone.

“Aframian’s buying,” Dean smiled. Sam shook his head.

Maggie paused the song she was listening to, “Can you bring me back a burger?”

“Sure,” Dean nodded and headed out the door. Across the parking lot, he spots the motel clerk talking to the police officers they spoke to at the bridge. The clerk pointed Dean out to the cops and Dean pulled out his cell phone and dialed Maggie’s number.

“What?” she answers.

“Five-oh, take off,” Dean says as the officers approach him.

Maggie sits up quickly and snaps her fingers at Sam. “Cops,” she whispers to him. “What about you?” She asks Dean as Sam helps her up and she grabs her bag.”

“Uh, they kind of spotted me. Go find Dad.” Dean hangs up the phone as the deputies approached him. “Problem, officers?” He turns and grins at them.

“Where are your partners?” The first asks.

“Partners?” Dean feigns confusion, “What, what partners?”

The first officer jerks his thumb towards the room Dean came out of and the second heads over to check it out. Sam sees the officer approaching through the window and urges Maggie to move.

“So, fake US Marshal. Fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?” The officer with Dean asks.

“My boobs,” Dean says after a beat, then flashes the officer a grin.

The officer nods then slam Dean over the hood of their cop car

“You have the right to remain silent,” the officer begins to read Dean his rights while Maggie and Sam make a quick escape.

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

Dean stares straight ahead when the sheriff enters the interrogation room. He sets the box he carried in onto the across from Dean. “So you want to give us your real name?” He asks.

“I told you, it's Nugent. Ted Nugent,” Dean replies.

“I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here.”

“We talkin', like, misdemeanor kind of trouble or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?

The sheriff leans on his box, “You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall,” Dean looked away, “Along with a whole lot of satanic mumbo-jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect.”

“That makes sense,” Dean leaned against the arm of his chair, “Because when the first one went missing in '82 I was three.”

“I know you've got partners. One of 'em's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing,” the sheriff reached into the box, “So tell me. Dean…” He pulls out a leather-bound journal and throws it on the table in front of Dean, “This his?”

Dean stares at the journal and the sheriff moves to sit on the edge of the table. “I thought that might be your name,” he starts flipping through the journal, “See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out—I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy.” Dean leans forward to look through the pages. “But I found this, too.”

On the page is nothing but “DEAN 35-11” circled. “Now. You're stayin' right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means.”

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

“Are you sure this is the place?” Maggie looks at her brother as they walk up to the house.

“Yeas, I’m sure,” Sam responds and knocks on the door. A man opens the door and Sam quickly glances at Maggie, “Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?”

“Yeah,” Joseph replies.

“Do you think we could talk to you for a few minutes? We’d like to ask you some questions?”

Joseph agreed and closed the door. Maggie explained to them that they were looking for someone who might have stopped by recently. The three walked around the junkyard and Maggie pulled the picture out her bag to show him.

“Yeah, he was older, but that's him,” Joseph identifies John in the photo and hands it back to Maggie. “He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter.”

“That’s right,” Sam nods his head, “We're working on a story together.”

“Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?” Joseph shook his head.

“About your wife Constance?” Maggie asked.

Joseph nodded, “He asked me where she was buried.”

“And where is that again?”

“What, I gotta go through this twice?”

“It's fact-checking,” Sam said, “If you don't mind.”

“In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge.” Joseph answered.

Sam nodded, “And why did you move?”

Joseph shook his head, “I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died.”

Maggie stops walking and rubs at her hip, “Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?”

The two men stopped walking. Joseph shakes his head, “No way. Constance, she was the love of my life, prettiest woman I ever known.”

“So you had a happy marriage?” Sam nods.

Joseph hesitates then nods his head, “Definitely.”

“Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time,” Sam starts leading Maggie back toward the impala. Joseph starts to walk away. Sam looks over at Maggie from across the top of the car. They give each other the same unsatisfied look and Sam turns back to Joseph. “Mr. Welch, you ever hear of a woman in white?”

Joseph turns around to look at the twins, “A what?”

“A woman in white,” Maggie answers, “Or sometimes a weeping woman?”

Sam continues for her, “It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really.” Sam walks towards Joseph and Maggie leans against the hood of the impala. “Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women,” Sam stops in front of Joseph, “You understand. But all share the same story.

“Boy, I don't care much for nonsense,” Joseph responds and starts walking away.

Sam follows after him, “See when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them,” Joseph stops, “And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children.” Joseph turns to look at Sam, “Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again.”

“You think…” Joseph’s voice wavered, “you think that has something to do with...Constance? You smartass!”

“You tell us,” Sam stares at him.

“I mean, maybe...maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!” Joseph is shaking by the time he stops talking. He stares at Sam while slowly turning away.

Sam sighs and looks back toward Maggie.

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

“I don't know how many times I gotta tell you,” Dean sighs, “It's my high school locker combo.”

“We gonna do this all night long?” the sheriff asks Dean, still interrogating him.

A police officer leans into the room. “We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford Road.”

The sheriff looks at Dean, “You have to go to the bathroom?”

“No,” he replies confused.

“Good,” the sheriff handcuffs Dean to the table and leaves. Dean sees a paper clip sticking out of the journal. He pulls it out and looks at it. He picked the lock and left the room. While the sheriff and the officer prepare to leave, Dean watches them through a window and makes a break for it when they leave.

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

Sam and Maggie were in the impala when Maggie’s phone rang. “Hello?” She answered.

“I knew we kept you around for something. A fake 911 call, pretty smart, kiddo.” Dean’s voice came through on the other line.

“As much as I appreciate the praise, this one has to go to Sammy. Hang on,” Maggie put the phone on speaker, “You can compliment him now.”

“That was his idea? I don’t know, that’s pretty illegal.”

“You’re welcome,” Sam says into the phone.

“Listen, we gotta talk.”

“Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop.”

“Sammy, would you shut up for a second?”

“I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet,” Maggie looked at Sam, shaking her head.

“Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho.”

“What?” The twins asked at the same time. Then Sam asked, “How do you know?”

“I've got his journal.”

“Wait, he doesn't go anywhere without that thing,”

“Yeah, well, he did this time.”

“What's it say?”

“Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going.”

“Coordinates?” Maggie asked, “Where to?”

“I'm not sure yet.”

“I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?”

“Shit!” Sam exclaims as he slams on the brake.

Maggie braces herself against the dash as the car comes to a sudden stop. “What the fuck, Sam?”

“Sam? Maggie?” Dean asks over the phone.

“Take me home,” Constance appears in the back seat, startling Sam and Maggie. Sam and Maggie look at each other. “Take me home,” Constance demands.

“No,” Maggie states. The woman in white glares at the twins and the doors lock themselves. Sam and Maggie pull on the locks and struggle to get the doors open. The gas pedal presses down on itself and the car moves forward. “Hit the brakes!” Maggie yells at him.

“I’m trying!” He yells back.

The car drives itself to Constance's old house, where it kills the engine and lights.

“Don't do this,” Sam pleads.

“I can never go home,” the ghost comments with a sad voice.

“You're scared to go home,” Maggie says. She looks in the backseat but Constance is nowhere to be seen. She looks forward only to find Constance pinning Sam to the seat while he struggles.

“Hold me. I'm so cold,” Constance runs her hands along Sam’s chest.

Maggie tries to open the door, “Get off him, you crazy bitch!”

Constance looks over at Maggie and then disappears. The twins look around for a moment before Sam yells in pain. Forming on his shirt are burn marks matching Constance's fingers. As she reaches her hand into Sam’s chest a gun goes off, shattering the window and frightening the ghost.

There’s a short break before she returns and Dean has to fire the gun again. Maggie reaches over and starts the car while Sam puts it into drive and slams on the gas pedal. The car crashes through the fence and into the side of the house.

Dean chases after the car and rushes up to the passenger side. “Sam, Maggie! You guys okay?”

“I think,” Sam replies.

“Mags, hey,” Dean yanked open the car door, “Can you move?” She nods and he helps her out of the car and then leans over to give Sam a hand. “There you go,” he says as he helps Sam out of the car.

Constance picks up a photograph of her family and throws it down when Dean shuts the car door. She glares at the siblings and a cabinet slides across the floor to pin them to the car. The lights in the house flicker and water began pouring down the staircase. Constance looks around the room in fear and sees a young boy and girl at the top of the staircase. The children hold hands and speak, “You've come home to us, Mommy.”

The children appear behind Constance and hug her tightly and she screams. Energy flickers around them as Constance and the two children disappear into a puddle on the floor. The siblings push the cabinet away from them. Maggie rests against the car while the boys investigate the spot where the spirits had disappeared. “So this is where she drowned her kids,” Dean states, looking at the puddle.

“That's why she could never go home,” Sam nods, “She was too scared to face them.”

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, guys.” Dean slaps Sam on the chest where Constance had hurt him. Sam just laughs through the pain.

“What about you, dumbass?” Maggie laughs, holding onto her hip, “What the hell were you thinking shooting Casper in the face?”

“Hey, saved his ass,” Dean pointed at Sam. Dean walked over to Maggie and ruffled her hair. She pushed at his shoulder and he turned his attention to the impala. “I'll tell you another thing. If you two screwed up my car?” He looks between the twins, “I'll kill you.” They laugh it off.

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With the Woman in White gone, the three siblings headed back on the road. Dean in the driver’s seat, Sam riding shotgun, and Maggie in the back. With a flashlight tucked between her chin and shoulder and the coordinates in their dad’s journal, Maggie used a map to find the next clue to where John might be.

“Okay, I think I got it,” she interrupted their silence. Sam turns his head to listen better. “It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado.”

Dean nods, “Sounds charming. How far?”

“About six hundred miles,” Maggie answers.

“Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning.”

Sam looks at Dean hesitantly, “Dean, I, um…”

Dean glances at Sam and then back at the road, “You’re not going.”

“The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there.”

Dean nods but is very clearly disappointed, “Yeah. Yeah, whatever.”

Maggie turns off the flashlight and looks between her brothers, “But, hey, maybe Dean and I head up to Colorado after we drop you off and keep you updated? Let you know if we find anything else about where Dad went?”

Sam looks back at his sister’s hopeful face and thinks about it. It wouldn’t hurt to hear from his siblings more, even if it was about hunting. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

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Dean pulls up in front of Sam’s apartment. Sam grabs his bag and gets out of the car, Maggie does the same. Sam looks between Dean and his twin, “You’ll keep me updated?” Maggie nods. “And maybe I can meet up with you guys later, huh?”

“Or maybe we can come here sometime?” Maggie says hopefully, “We can meet your girl properly.”

“I think that would be okay.” Sam nods. He opens the door for Maggie to get into the passenger seat and closes the door. He pats the door twice and turns away.

“Sam?” Dean calls out. Sam turns around. “You know, we made a hell of a team back there.”

“Yeah,” Sam nods.

Dean turns away and drives off. Maggie props her elbow on the door and rests her chin in her hand. “You think Dad’ll be in Colorado?” She asks.

“Maybe,” Dean replies, not looking at her.

Maggie leans back in her seat and rests her head against the door, “I’m tired.”

“Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when it’s morning,” Dean tells her. He watches her get comfy out of the corner of his eye and then looks down at his watch. It’s not working. “Hang on,” he tells her, making a U-turn.

“What is it?” She asks, sitting up.

“Something’s off.” Dean drives back to Sam’s apartment building and parks out front, “Wait here.”

He goes into the building and runs up the stairs to Sam’s apartment and smells smoke. He kicks the door in and calls out to his brother, “Sam!”

“Jess!” He hears Sam yell.

Dean runs into the bedroom, “Sam!” Sam is screaming ‘No’ and staring up at the ceiling. Dean looks up and sees Jess burning. He grabs his younger brother off the bed and shoves him out of the apartment while Sam struggles against him.

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Maggie stood next to Sam as he loaded one of their shotguns. She had a hand rubbing his back while he refused to talk about what just happened. Dean, who was watching the firefighters put out the building, walked away to join the twins. Sam looked up at Dean when he came over and nodded to him. He throws the shotgun into the trunk and sighs.

“We got work to do,” Sam says and closes the trunk.

#my fanfiction #you're acting like a psycho #as time goes by #atgb #atgb chapter 1 #original character #margaret winchester #maggie winchester #winchester sister #dean x sister #sam x sister #sam x twin

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archivedatl · 18 years ago

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AP web exclusive: All Time Low tour diary

Posted by Scott Heisel on 08-Dec-06 @ 04:43 PM

Last month, Baltimore pop-punkers All Time Low took to the road with Sugarcult for a series of shows on the West Coast. Here's some of what they saw, in words and pictures. Learn more at www.alltimelow.com.

#1------------------------------------------------------------ Ooohooo So last night we celebrated two awesome occasions...well 3 since matt's molars finally grew in...anyways yesterday was Haloween and our first night of our tour with Sugarcult. I must say, it is pretty strange touring with a band who I spent the better years of my middle school life watching on MTV. Regardless of where this band has been, it definetly didn't eff with their personalities. They were all super nice to us and each came up and introduced themselves. The show went pretty well but it wasn't a good judgement of our the whole tour is going to be because Sugarcult didn't even headline, the Eagles Of Death Metal did, and the tickets for $25 on Haloween night :) I'm sorry but I would never go to a show if those were the circumstances...I'd be out expanding my collection of holiday treats. Tonight the 'real' tour begins so we will see how it goes. We are playing Washington State University in Pullman Washington. We haven't done too many college shows, so this should be interesting...anyways before we got on the road a couple days ago we were couped up in Ben Harper's (formely of yellowcard, now in amber pacific) house/studio in long beach, CA working on our new CD :). We demoed some hot licks that were going to send over to our producer matt squire so that he can put in some input. I heard my blogs are going to be posted on the Alternative Press website for this tour, so if that's the case then...helll yeah! Well I just woke up from sleeping in the van so I am gonna walk out into the freezing streets of Pullman, WA crack my back and grab some Qudoba. Much Love, Jack --jbstar #2------------------------------------------------------------ Yoo dooodds, So I'm gonna update you guys on the passed couple shows...on Wednsday we played Washington State University. Those kids are freaking crazy! Everyone seemed to be having a good time and we made some awesome new friends. I cannot stress enough, how cool the Sugarcult guys are. Which is really cool because I have been listening to those guys since 6th grade! Anyways before we played, matt thought it would be a good idea to have a fork and knife fight backstage...yeah it turned pretty ugly and we should have some footage online soon enough. That night we partied at 'The Christmas House'. Lets just say that I'm pretty sure alex made out with a dog...I really miss Hit The Lights :( Anways...we played Seattle after the college show and it was offf the hoooook. Everyone in the room was dancing and it got pretty redic. As soon as we told them the alex/dog story they went nuts. We met up with the Pink Spiders that night. We were nervous about that because we've heard some stuff...but for real those guys are the shit. There all super nice and we have no complaints about them. We have yet to tour with a band who we don't get along with (fingers crossed). We also heard that we may be doing a few shows with Cobra Starship in Dec, if that happends that would be sick. I'll keep you guys updated. Someone made us a bucket of the craziest donuts ive ever seen at the portland show last night!! They were reallly good. Sorry for the lack of pics, I'll make sure my next post has more, its just hard to take good pics on a sidekick :). Talk to you guys soon!!Jacko #3------------------------------------------------------------ Yo Babaayyss, Last nights show was off the hook! I love playing at The Boardwalk in orangevale calii. The crowd was as wild as usual and a bunch of kids were singing along. A lot of the same kids who saw us there on the Amber Pacific tour came back. Its always cool to see so many familiar faces,,,cough cough hint hint nudge...you get the idea folks! The next couple shows should be interesting...reno and vegas. I wont be able to gamble but at least ill be able to look at a lot of lights. We all have family comming out, so that should be exciting. I havent seen my brother and sister in ages and i know their gonna be wasted so that means they will be even more friendly :) Also Meg n Dia join up in vegas which is sick, SO SIKED FOR THAT!!! We met them on warped and their super nice. anyways i think its time, i go to In and Out because after this tour im not going to be able to go back for a while :( im going to eat there everyday twice a day until we leave Arizona. Ive attached pics from our set on the Epitaph stage at this years Bamboozle Left and also some pics of our acoustic set the 2nd day! Thanks to everyone who watched us either/both days :) love you peace peace n a bottle o' hair grease, jack #4------------------------------------------------------------ Wow...vegas has to be one of the strangest places on this earth. First of all we showed up in Reno (shity city) only to find that only sugarcults crew was there and the show probably wasnt going on. We were welcomed by a hooker in a pink tanktop and no teeth asking if we had any shirts we could give her...Thankfully we have power windows and middle fingers. Thankfully zack was asleep or he might have took her up on some of her offers...he's getting desperate you know..just kidding! Anyways we decided to hang out with sugarcults crew for a little then start the drive to vegas early since it was 8 house. We got to go over the Hoover Damn which was sweet. It's seriously Vegas Vacation all over again! Anyways, we got to vegas around midnight and it was a fantastic site! My bro and sis were staying at the MGM so thats where i headed. Rian to the Excalibur, Alex and Matt to the Venecian and Zack to the Luxor. We all split up and hung out with our fam for the evening. My brother took me around vegas and boyyy was it interesting. I was approached by numerous drunk people. It was basically like an Ocean City, Maryland for older people. It's just a place for adults to drink, walk around drunk, act like teenagers and maybe gamble a bit here n' there. it was Akward to say the least. Anyways the next day was the show at the House Of Blues at Mandalay Bay...probably one of the nicest venues we have ever played. We introduced ourselves to the Meg n Dia folks and got to know our new tour mates as we shared a dressing room. We soon found they are awesome people and they share a love for getting wild! The show was pretty cool, and the crowd was big. It was weird though because the merch was not in the venue, it was in the cassino haha. Anyways Vegas was an experience we wont forget, and I cant wait till we go there again. I hope the next time we go, were 21...actually nevermind because that would be three years :)stay rad, Jack #5------------------------------------------------------------ Lame! Tonight was our last show on the Sugarcult Tour featuring The Pink Spiders and Meg n Dia :( Damone will be taking our place on this great lineup. I am jelous that they get to join up! Anyways we made some lifetime friends on this tour and it was a great experience for everyone. Every single show was amazing and the fans never let us down. Traveling to bumfuck arizona and hearing a couple hundred kids sing your song is the coolest feeling ever. Sugarcult was very warming towards us and their personalities suprised the shit out of me. they were such cool guys and even when zack was sick they made him soup and gave him Emergen-C. WHO DOES THAT !?!? Thats like something my mom does...so in a way Sugarcult are our parents. They actually reffered to us as their younger brothers on stage. At the last show of the tour in Little Rock, Arkansas us and Meg n Dia ran on stage during "Bouncing Off the Walls" and started bouncing around and took over Tim's Guitar n Mic, Marko's (my twin) guitar and Airens Bass. It was so fun to bro down with a band that ive been listening to since middle school haha. Alex also got to soundcheck with sugarcult at Texas AM College because tim was at the hospital taking care of his sickness (i think he had a nasty cold). It was so crazy to see alex soundcheck with a band who for the past few years have held a special spot on my ipod and in my cd player :) I attached a pic of him sound-checking for fun. At the end of the show we said our goodbyes and gave our hugs. This is'nt the end of these friendships though, only the beggining...now we head home to write a new cd. Catch us on the road in the northeast in december when we head out with Cobra Starship! Stay safe, Jack

#2006 #blog #Jack Barakat #text #alternative press #all time low #sugarcult tour

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wolfenwingsshop · 6 years ago

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WHOOOOOOF

SO BIG POST Y’ALL.

My Rockman X Anniversary Collection Soundtrack made it in today! Many thanks to my beloved husband Zeekun for getting this for me while I finished my shift up at work. (It was registered air-mail, so I had to send someone to sign for it for me!) Ok, so right into it- there is SO much going on here and I may have to make double-posts to fit it all in.

So since I ordered the ‘First Press’ I got a special sleeve that had that AMAZING ARTWORK of the four hunters all doing their little gig (I still swear that image of X on the special sleeve alone was worth the 40 dollars I paid to get this thing. I love seeing him happy, damnit.) Inside the sleeve is the CD in it’s standard packaging.

The tambourine wielding Met is still present too! Considering I once cosplayed as a giant Met at a few Otakons, and when I was in WAS we had a ‘pet’ Metool we named ‘Tooley’, it’s kinda like my past was coming back to greet me. Can I be considered the Met? I will gladly shake a little tambourine around if I get to jam with X. C’mon now.

So there’s no way they didn’t know some of us were going to import the CD. Why would you include the forward from singer/writer of the English version of Re;Future IN ENGLISH if you didn’t expect non-Japanese people to import it?! THE FACT THAT SHE’S AN X FANGIRL MAKES ME GIDDY AS SHIT.

The art in the booklet is basically CD-sized versions of the art for MMXLC 1 and 2 and then some of the Mavericks behind the CD... The CD itself though... Hoooo nelly..

Ok, easily, this is the most gawddamned beautiful CD I now own. It’s got metallic blue circuitry accents and X in full without that text over him and-- NNNNHhhhggg... I can’t. This was so worth it. And the crazy thing was, when I first found out about the CD and saw the original image of them all playing and performing, I was like “God, fuggin’ a. What if they did a Miku/Squid-Sisters like concert and literally had hologram versions of them play at a real venue?” For whatever reason, I could imagine X staring at the crowd with his guitar with a happy, slightly cocky grin-- and then later when I got into that MM Media Creators discord and found THIS IMAGE it was literally what I saw in my head just days before and admittedly I LOST MY SHIT. This happens to me wayyyy too frequently but that is another time. @_@;; Anyhow-- what I was hoping for- aside X being.. well, X, and making wolfens nosebleed everywhere-- were the english lyrics for Re;Future.

SO AGAIN IN TYPICAL CAPCOM FASHION- They had their Localization director write/translate Re;Future from Japanese to English and then later sing it as well. From what I understand, they also had some issues with recording and it lost some audio quality, some of which they had t manually restore- but from what I understand, Miss Hsu is not a native English speaker so there’s some mispronunciations here and there. Zero and I were trying to get lyrics down for DAYS but we kept mis-guessing what was being said- so since my CD was in the states on Sunday night, we decided to wait till we had official lyrics. SO glad we did, cause I think our ‘hints’ at X9 lie in this song and it’s lyrics.

At first, with the ‘blasting through anything’, especially given you have to use X to blast through the credits to get this song to unlock and play, I was like “OK, THIS IS X SINGING. Well not literally BUT IT’S HIS PERSPECTIVE.” This has happened before, RockmanHolic’s Re:Loaded was sung from X’s perspective even though it was a girl singing. So there’s that.

Then as I was listening, I was mis-hearing lyrics, I was thinking she was saying ‘purple crystal’ and ‘purple heart’ which made me think of Iris- especially if you play X Challenge mode volume 1 and get to the final fight- I was like “OMFG, what if we’re getting Iris back for X9?!” That may still happen based on X Challenge mode, but still. Everything else just coincided with X so strongly, so I was still torn. Plus, the achievement you get for unlocking Re;Future is called “Identity Erased”... And given we have new Giga Armor toys where X has a Rush of his own and in MvCI he slides just like Classic’s Rock does, Iiii.. I’m starting to wonder if we’re looking at the starts of a Retcon and they’re going to confirm X and Rock are one and the same. I’ve got other stuff that points at that, I’m working on a video explaining it all, so when I’m done I’ll explain more. Anyhow...

I figure if anyone wants a crack, here’s the Japanese lyrics. I can’t read a lick of ‘em (legit, only things I can read in Japanese are “Rockman”, “X”, and “Zero”. That. Is. It.) so if like, Sky or anybody else who has knowledge wants to see if they match up to the English lyrics, be my guest! My friend Alkaid of over-ti.me already has these, so I’m sure she’s probably gonna be getting her buddies in to take a crack at these sometime soon. For now, I wrote-out the English lyrics if you guys wanna copy-paste them, etc. Fragments of me lie in the darkness waiting to be found All I see around me are shadows, No matter how I may try, and so I keep on looking to find a light that will guide me, I won't give up the fight Why am I here? What is my purpose?

Running for all I'm worth, I shout Reaching ahead I throw my arms to the wind Even if it takes all I have, With the last of my voice I'll cry...... I'll call with all of my soul

This sparkling uncontainable light Spilling over a brand new world Its brightness dazzles, dizzying and blinding But I don't wanna close my eyes or look away All these boundless feelings Cascading over a brand new world I'll keep them with me for just a little bit longer I'll keep them safe here until the next world arrives

At long last I found my answers waiting in the darkness I know why I'm here and my purpose I won't return to that loneliness, and so I'll keep pushing onwards Blasting through anything that tries to stand in my way I will fight, I will! Even by myself or for a barren world

Two lights shine brightly showing me the way, and I take courage the they have given me to fight for what I truly believe Nothing can stop me!

Running for all I'm worth, I shout Reaching ahead, I throw my arms to the wind Even if it takes all I have, With the last of my voice I'll cry...... I'll call with all of my soul

This strongly beating hopeful heart Filled to the brim by a brand new world Through people's kindness it learned of warmth and yet It wasn't whole until it learned what peace was at last This utopic brand new world Filled to the brim with hopeful light There's no going back -- not for me, there's only forwards Until that day when the world of our dreams arrives

Whew. Huuuge post! Thanks guys! Wolfie out! ^_^ Now, remember, we plan on streaming more MMXLC tonight and tomorrow, over at my Twitch Channel (twitch.tv/wolfshadow6) so feel free to drop over tonight or tomorrow! Zero and I plan on going through all the games and getting ALL the achievements!

#megamanx #megaman x #mmxlc #mmx #zero #axl #alia #rockman #rockman x #mmxlc ost #ost #soundtrack

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abstractanalogue · 4 years ago

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Lexicon of Sound review & interview

As I was trying to listen to hypnagogia by Dublin’s Lexicon of Sound it struck me how revolutionary it is to be making ambient music these days. This is an album that has to be listened to without distractions, preferably on your own, on reasonable speakers and in a comfortable room. Not as I at first impatiently tried to do in the car rushing to work, changing back and forth to the latest news on Morning Ireland while skipping around the CD. Also, sadly for me not on the LOS Bandcamp page either as this entailed computer speakers and other pages open on my browser to pull my attention away. The world we live in is fast and we need to do a lot to keep up, to switch off (something I normally do in nature) is essential of course and this album offers you that chance too if you give it the time and respect it deserves.

hypnagogia is actually Colm Fitzpatrick's fifth album since he began to use this as a moniker in 2018. I've interviewed him below and I'm so glad I contacted him directly as I needed to get a sense of who the person is behind this very pure music. I had come across his music before but really this was just his bass playing in The Sewing Room. In fact I wrote a piece about them for AA here. I kind of knew he had been in Hey Paulette in the 1980s but this was really before my time. He has also been involved with Villa R and I Am The Waltons, two bands I'm actually not familiar with.

It seems like Lexicon of Sound is the music he has wanted to make his whole life and I'm very glad he has reached that goal. I want to incorporate a review into this piece so bear with me until you get to his own words (be sure to play the track from it above).

Hypnagogia is the transitional state of consciousness between wakefulness and sleep which we are all familiar with, even though we might not know the term for it. One of my favourite acts Dopplereffekt have already used this as a release title so I did have an idea what the concept for the album might be. This in-between state very much makes sense (to me) on the brief opening 'The Omadon', which skews our musical expectations with its disjointed medley (from everyday life?) but reality is already behind us as 'Calling Mumba Devi' quickly envelopes us in its lush sound and we hear what might be a confused Japanese man on some kind of internal answering machine. 'Doctor Mesmer' brings us even further away from wakefulness, somewhere deep in space with tinges of Brian Eno, which is a great thing to have tinges of. A long time ago I read a book The Wizard from Vienna (1975) all about Dr. Mesmer and the hypnotic state he could put his patients in. I don't believe he was a charlatan, he just cured his patients the only way he knew how and came up with a theory that was false.

By the time we reach the title track (the biggie at over 10 mins) it’s feeling much more oceanic and long enough to truly get lost in. 'All At Sea' might be my favourite track with it’s more optimistic rising tones. These long sustained notes hover eternally, this is the sound of forever. ‘Saint Agatha's Bells' is the only one for me that could pass as New Age but so what, play it when you next do some yoga and it will work a treat. It’s those damn Tibetan bowls, very hard to hear without thinking of a YouTube meditation video. 'Abdul's Android' is probably my second favourite and has an electronic Eastern sheen to it that sounds so modern. In a parallel universe or maybe even this one, it could be the theme tune to a future Bladerunner. 'Dark Paradise' is some kind of sinister step carefully moment just before you wake and another potentially good movie scene soundtrack. 'Exit 13' and we are almost out, a return to the confused Japanese man as guitar textures enter for the first time and it's a very beautiful thing indeed. Definitely an album for me to return to.

Where does your interest in ambient music come from?

It started in the early nineties when I was in my mid 20s. I have a terrible memory, but for some reason I have a good recollection of this. Hey Paulette had broken up a few years previously, and I was by that time playing with “I Am The Waltons” a grungy, loud alternative pop band. The singer in the band, Aiden, told me one of his favourite artists that he was listening to at the time was Harold Budd, who I had never heard of. He said I should check him out. I'm not sure how he figured I would like Harold’s music but he was right, I loved it. So it kind of grew from there. I started collecting Harold Budd’s albums and through his collaborations I discovered Brian Eno and started collecting his albums, you will see a pattern emerging here ! I moved on to Steve Roach, Tom Heasley (Ambient Trombone !) Wendy Carlos and John Foxx amongst others. So I've been listening to that kind of music for close to 30 years I guess.

Do you miss writing in a more collaborative song based form as you did in Hey Paulette and The Sewing Room, which do you prefer?

No, I much prefer working alone. I have come to realise this over the years. When I was playing in bands all those years ago, I never thought of myself as a songwriter, and I never thought I would ever become one. The way it worked in all the bands I played in, was that the guitarist and the singer would write the songs, the rest of us (Drums, Bass, other guitarists etc) would add our piece to it, that's it. If it worked out and we all liked it we would keep it. On a rare occasion some songs would come to fruition from jamming, but it was rarely a productive way of songwriting for any of the bands I was in. Two notable exceptions to this were Drugfree from The Sewing Room, and also Fear of Parked Cars from I Am The Waltons, I remember these tracks being a true group effort.

You are already up to release number nine of LOS. Instrumental music can be tricky to edit and differentiate tracks from each other and have each album stand out.

I can get a bit defensive when people say I have released so much music in such a short time. Maybe I'm being a bit paranoid but I start thinking people are saying to themselves “It can’t be much good, he has released all this music in about one year !” and I worry that maybe they won’t take it seriously. But I'm very serious about my music. I'm usually a bit tongue in cheek about it when I talk about it on Facebook or Twitter, which does not help but that's just my personality I think. I guess this is a good opportunity to explain how I got to record and release so much music in apparently so little time. In 2017 I decided to convert my little attic in my house into a place to store my basses and gear etc. In this small house, there are myself, my wife Bernie and our son Joseph and all his toys, so space is at a premium ! By the start of 2018 I had the attic looking really good, Velux window in, wooden floor down, carpeted walls, mood lighting, nice laptop for recording, and the obligatory Persian rug. I said to myself this is a really cool little space where I can have all my gear set up permanently.

In parallel to all this going on I knew I wanted to start writing and recording music again, I had been away from it for decades and I had a lot of ideas built up inside that I wanted to express, and building the studio only affirmed these feelings. Also going on at this time was the fact that I had taken a break from full time work, an opportunity came along and I grabbed it, it meant I had more free time on my hands. The fact that I had all my gear permanently set up now and I could escape to my little studio at any time I wanted, day or night was a real boon. All these events coming together let me be super productive and do it all at home for free. The kind of music I make lends itself to this kind of home setup, no drum kits, PA, or amps needed ! So from the Spring of 2018 I started working, and I found the ideas and sounds just flooded out, it was a great feeling. As I went along I learned more about the recording process and refined my workflow. Month by month I would buy more outboard gear, keyboards, guitars, effects etc to add to my arsenal of sound making equipment. It was in the summer of 2020 that I decided to put all I had done up to that time up on all the streaming platforms. My Nephew Daniel is a musician and he told me about Distrokid. It was a cheap, painless, easy way to get my music up on all the streaming platforms, so I went ahead and released the first 6 albums around June and July of 2020 I think. That was 2 years of solid work. I have done 1 Album and 2 EP’s since then over the last year. Lockdown has also helped in that regard.

What are you working from as a starting point with your albums/musical pieces, the sound itself or an idea? How do you know when you have strayed into 'New Age' territory or does that bother you?

It depends, sometimes I start with a word or phrase, sometimes an image, and sometimes a scenario. I think it's important to have some kind of a seed of an idea in your head before you start something new, otherwise you're wasting your time and you will flounder. I think to myself, what would this situation or place or feeling sound like ? Some of my albums are obviously thematic. Longwave came about because of my love of radio, especially AM radio. My eldest sisters used to tune in to Radio Luxembourg on a Grundig portable in the 1970s on a Friday or Saturday night while they were getting ready to go out. I remember it vividly. Later in the 80s and 90s it was my turn to tune in to BBC1 and John Peel via AM to listen to him playing Hey Paulette or The Sewing Room. The Lighthouse is another obviously thematic album stemming from my love of the sea and er…. Lighthouses ! I've always loved them and find them to be spiritual and magical places for me. If someone wants to call it New Age I don't care, I'm just happy they are listening to it.

Do you have plans to take Lexicon of Sound onto the live stage in the future?

This is a short answer, and that is no. I don't think ambient music or musical soundscapes translate well into the live environment. People will talk, go to the bar, make noise etc, it just would not work for me. I want people to hear my music in the best possible scenario, sitting down, listening to it on a CD, on a good pair of headphones. I suffer quite badly with anxiety also, so if I was to perform live any venue I would go to would not have enough toilet paper in stock to cope with my situation.

What are you using to generate your sounds, are there guitars in there?

I try to make my sounds sound original and made from scratch, no sound I record is off the shelf. Yes, I have recently started using guitars, although I am by no means a guitarist. That is an area I have yet to venture into fully. I have 2 old 80s keyboards specifically chosen for their ease of use and the fact they also offer full control of the sound wave generated, all with real time control in the form of knobs and sliders, no scrolling through menus etc. For me, it needs to be simple and fast. The same goes for effects, I use high quality guitar pedals that offer studio quality sound but the interface needs to be fully manual, again knobs and sliders all the way, and the pedal is a perfect format for that. I have other sound generating tools in software format where you can quite radically alter any given sound or sample. I also have some other rather unusual sound generators in hardware form that are quite unique, which I have collected from boutique makers over recent years. Then I have my bass guitars of course which I rarely use actually, with the exception of tracks like Dark Paradise and Exit 13 where they are heavily effected but are the main instrument in the track.

How important is the physical format for music? What made you decide to release all LOS albums as CDs.

The physical format is vital for me. An album is not released unless it's on CD or Vinyl as far as I'm concerned. I need to hold a physical object in my hand, and be able to look at it, keep it, and collect them.

What is next in the series/pipeline?

Next for me is a break from writing and recording to curate and promote my music. I will be releasing all albums and EP’s on CD over the next 18 months on my own label, Lighthouse Records, so that's an ongoing thing starting with this album (hypnagogia) I need to start promoting my music, getting more airplay, getting more album reviews and Interviews like this I guess. It's the one thing I have neglected up until now. I find myself looking abroad more often than not in that regard. I have always found the Irish music scene on the whole to be a bit incestuous, clicky and small to be brutally honest. I'm in the process of drawing up various kinds of lists of people and media outlets, radio stations etc around the world to send my music to. All of that is going to keep me very busy for a while. Then maybe next year, I'll start venturing up into my tiny attic studio again, and try to make some new sounds and paint a few more sonic landscapes that hopefully some people will enjoy.

You can sample and order Lexicon of Sound’s latest releases hypnagogia and Edge of the World EP and more on Bandcamp. Until 2022 he will gradually be releasing all of the LOS albums and EPs on CD on his own Lighthouse Records. Follow him on Twitter here.

#lexiconofsound #colmfitzpatrick #hypnagogia

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breakingasia-blog · 5 years ago

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Missing Parents: Turkey's Uighur Refugee Camp Turns Orphanage

But for several, it has also become an impromptu orphanage. Having fled a worsening crackdown on Uighur Muslims in northwest China, some of their parents thought it was still safe to return occasionally for business and to visit family, only to disappear into a shadowy network of re-education camps from which no communication is permitted. Out of just over a hundred pupils at the school, 26 have lost one parent to the camps, seven have lost both, says its head Habibullah Kuseni. Nine-year-old Fatima has only vague memories of her homeland -- and now, of her father, too. She remembers watching television with him: she wanted cartoons, but he liked watching the news especially about Turkey's president, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, one of the only leaders in the Muslim world willing to stand up for the Uighurs and risk China's wrath. Her father flew back to China from time to time for business before anyone knew about the camps in the Xinjiang region. Many of the Uighur child refugees at the school have lost one or both parents to the network of re-education camps in China "And then he was gone," she says, tears streaming down her face. "I thought he would come back, but he never did." No one has heard from him in three years. Exiled Uighur activists in November released evidence of nearly 500 camps and prisons being used against their ethnic group in China, saying the overall number of inmates could be "far greater" than the one million usually cited. When news of the camps first emerged in 2017, Beijing initially denied their existence. Later, it claimed they were "voluntary" vocational centres aimed at combating extremism by teaching people Mandarin and job skills. But leaked internal documents have shown they are run like prisons, while critics say they are aimed at eradicating local culture and religion of Uighurs and other, mostly Muslim, minorities. Teacher Mahmut Utfi says he sees his job as a duty as the Uighurs are "facing extinction" Don't Worry About Us With some 50,000 Uighur refugees in Turkey, there are many more children like Fatima or even worse off. Tursunay, 15, hasn't seen or spoken to either of her parents since July 2017. "Don't worry about us," they said, in their last phone call on a trip back to China. They said it was strange their passports had been confiscated but were sure it would be resolved soon. Then, silence. Tursunay remembers her life in China. She recalls asking: "Why are they watching us, papa?" when cameras were installed at the entrance to their apartment. It's because we are Muslims, her father said. He burned their collection of religious CDs. Tursunay has just her little sister now and an older friend they met on the refugee trail who looks after them. All forms of communication with every family member in China have been cut. She longs for her parents so much -- even just a brief message -- that she says she must fight the urge to be angry with them for disappearing. "I try to stay optimistic and remember that it's not my parents who have done this to me," she says. Many children inside Xinjiang are also reportedly without parents. Human Rights Watch said in September that Chinese authorities have housed "countless" children whose parents are detained or in exile in state-run child welfare institutions and boarding schools without parental consent or access. Rallies in support of Uighurs were held in Istanbul recently -- many Turks feel historic bonds with the Uighurs, either as fellow Muslims or as part of the same Turkic-speaking ethnic group Cries of our Brothers Many Turks feel historic bonds with the Uighurs, either as fellow Muslims or as part of the same Turkic-speaking ethnic group. Back-to-back rallies were held in December in Istanbul, one by Islamists and another by ultra-nationalists. "Haven't the cries of our brothers from East Turkestan reached you?" said Musa Bayoglu during one outside the Chinese consulate, using Uighur activists' preferred name for their region which is strictly outlawed by China. "Haven't the screams of our sisters passed through the walls of your palaces?" Earlier this year, Turkey's foreign ministry called China's crackdown on Uighurs "a great embarrassment for humanity" but since then has been largely silent on the issue. When Erdogan spoke at the UN General Assembly in September, he reeled off a list of Muslim groups facing persecution, from Palestinians to Myanmar's Rohingyas. Uighurs were notably absent. Many fear he is bending to Chinese economic pressure, though Uighurs in Turkey remain hugely grateful for the asylum the country has offered. "They are providing 50,000 Uighurs a peaceful place to live," said one Uighur activist in Istanbul. "No other Muslim country did that, no Western country did that." We will Take it Back The leaked internal documents detailed how Beijing runs the camps. They included instructions that inmates should be cut off from the outside world and monitored at all times -- including toilet breaks -- to prevent escapes. They also indicated that people should be held for at least a year, and released only after being assessed for "ideological transformation, study and training, and compliance with discipline." At the Uighur school in Istanbul, such stories take a toll. "I still want to listen to the news, but when I hear about it, I feel bad, uneasy; my stomach aches," says Rufine, 12, who wants to be a teacher or a doctor when she's older. Her mother disappeared two years ago when she went back to look after Rufine's sick grandmother. Kuseni, the headteacher, laughs when asked what items in the school would be illegal in China. "Just coming on holiday to a Muslim country like Turkey would be enough to send you to a camp," he says. "As for this stuff...," he points at the East Turkestan flag and the Uighur Arabic script on the wall, and makes a cutting motion across his throat. "The Uighurs are facing extinction," adds 39-year-old teacher Mahmut Utfi. "Our culture, our language. I see my job as a duty." For Fatima, the repression has only made her more defiant. Tears still streaming, her voice cracking, she has a fierce message for the Chinese government: "I would tell them: just wait a bit. You think we're weak, but you'll see. Our nation, our motherland will survive, you won't be able to stop it. "Because they took it from us, we will have to take it back," she says. PICTURES BY OZAN KOSE Read the full article

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refractedglade · 7 years ago

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do all of them. or the odds. or the evens. honestly just do some I'm tired and dont feel like reading through them all :/

this is honestly a lot so it gets a cut. also wow way to abuse the question ask.

1. do you have any recurring dreams? what are they?

only ever had one I think, and that was back in… probably elementary school? I had monthly nightmares thanks to one of the least frightening episodes of Courage the Cowardly Dog, god bless you young me you tried your best

2. what is your favourite kind of fruit?

im torn between grapes and apples

3. sweet or savoury?

savory

4. what is your smallest/pettiest fear?

not even sure what the hell that means uhhhhhhhh

the fear that i am or will be mediocre at video games. it sounds dumb but at this point it’s one of the only quote-unquote skills I have that I can identify and im afraid to lose that

5. what is your least favourite vegetable?

peas

6. what is your favourite art movement?

surrealism I guess? I don’t know much about art movements tbh

7. do you drink milk?

fuck yes i do

8. what was the last line of the last book you read?

“A mob of Surly Thugs are there to greet you.

TO BE EVEN MORE CONTINUED.”

9. do you like bitter food?

not really

10. what is the most significant event in your life so far?

probably one of the several times i’ve moved since that always leads to meeting new people

12. what is your favourite breed of dog or cat?

I love labradors.

13. list your top 5 favourite turtle names.

what

Leonardo

Donatello

Michelangelo

Raphael

and uhhhhhhh

Coco Jumbo

14. what job would you have if you could have it without going through all of the school or experience that is required?

if I didnt have that Id probably get fired very soon for being shit at my job, but lets say public attorney, see how far I get in that bullshit

15. are there any names that you dislike so much that you would dislike the person with the name? what are those names?

no not really

16. what is your favourite letter?

either R or T, they’re both such helpful shortcuts for web browsing

17. are there any instruments you wished you played?

I wish I had continued learning piano when I was younger. I was in the middle of lessons when we moved for the second time and we just never got another teacher.

18. list your best friends.

@verbalmoonwalking and honestly even though we haven’t talked much in forever @wombathills

19. would you rather be a skeleton or a ghost?

a ghost, way more opportunities and less of a hassle (imagine trying to navigate through the world as reanimated bones)

also there’s already some people i’ve promised to haunt

20. do you prefer fish or lizards/snakes? (as pets)

i dont have much experience with lizards or snakes (although I did have an anole for a year or so). i guess fish, they’re just so incredibly low-maintenance

21. art or music?

weird way to phrase that considering music is art but music

22. what is your favourite type of flower?

unfortunately Ive never learned much about flowers, but I do really like when they’re blue

23. soup or salad?

souuuuup

24. are you good at keeping plants alive?

surprisingly yes! I’ve had two plants growing since late winter/early spring I think

25. do animals tend to like you?

heck yeaaaah

26. what is the worst book you’ve ever read?

the Book of Leviticus

there’s not really a good answer to this, if a book is terrible I either never got far enough to remember or read it for a school assignment and promptly forgot about it

27. do you collect anything?

too many thing, and most of them only for short periods of time. the only consistent collection i have is my Halley Labs music collection

28. how many pillows do you sleep with?

right now just two, used to be three

29. whats the latest you’ve ever woken up?

5 in the evening i think? I forget details since its been a few years, but after an all-nighter I pulled during my first finals of college I passed out at around 6 pm and woke up almost a full day later

no wait addendum: i think like 1-3 in the morning because of falling asleep around 8-11 am.

30. how many pictures are on your walls?

my room has… a painting and a poster

31. what age did you stop keeping stuffed animals on your bed?

honestly? i didn’t

32. what is your favourite candy?

Butterfinger, or if in moderation Twizzlers

33. what is your favourite baked good?

its not the real answer but a vivid image of a steaming baked potato keeps appearing in my head

actually the more i think about it the better that sounds, like its plain but theres a lot of room for customization there

34. do you have a camera? if so, what kind?

yeah, i actually sort of inherited it recently from my late grandfather, though I haven’t actually,,, used it yet.

35. do you wear jewelry?

nope, used to wear a fidget ring a lot but who knows where that went. if i ever find a really cool necklace I’ll probably start wearing that all the time though.

36. sunrise or sunset?

sunset, sunrises are pretty but its a pain in the ass waking up the early

also seeing something like that in the evening is just a better state of mind imo

37. do you like to listen to music with headphones or no headphones?

depends on both the music and my mood, generally at this point no headphones though just because when i listen to music its while driving

38. what was your favourite show as a child?

I had a weird sense of almost reverence for Digimon as a kid. My mom had forbidden me from watching Pokemon, and I only ever saw like 3 episode of DIgimon once by accident because a day care had their cassette tape. I barely saw any of it but I loved it.

Season 3 aka DIgimon Tamers is still a solid series, and I still vividly remember watching season 4 on TV when I was slightly older and finding it weird but cool (4 was where they could actually like combine with their digimon)

39. describe your favourite spot in your house.

im the basement goblin so the couch down there is for all intents and purposes mine. also its right next to the room with the heater so hell yeah.

40. do you like to be warm or cold?

I like to be in slightly cold environments so I can be the kind of warm that isn’t just warm but warmed up, like the feeling of being warm when things are cold is very good.

41. the best joke you have.

i think the best jokes i ever did done was editing like 20 different photos of a friend of mine into dumb joke images

one was his face on a tube of laundry soap with some dumb caption along the lines of “ah, this is my life now”

42. whats the weirdest thing that you’ve seen happen in a public place?

first thing that comes to mind is a futon frame on the side of a highway. now let me clarify:

-it was sitting upright, not like it had been tossed aside

-it was on the INSIDE side, not the outside

-no mattress in sight

just… there.

43. CD or digital?

CD, I’ve been conditioned to love owning physical copies of stuff. On that note, also cassette.

44. who do you miss right now?

good friends, my dog, my will to live….

45. if you could combine two places in the world, which two places would you choose?

if by world you meant universe, lets combine earth with some other planet and see what the fuck happens

if you meant earth then Michigan and Ohio, that’d make some shit way more convenient for me

46. describe the worst substitute teacher you’ve ever had.

one of my high school english teachers went on maternity leave, and so we had a sub for about ¾ of the school year. i forget a lot of why the class hated her but a lot of it just came down to she was not good at teaching, and we had to deal with that for almost a whole year.

47. do you believe horoscopes?

short answer is no. less short answer is that while I don’t really believe anything like that, i still enjoy looking at and considering them, especially when they’re in shitpost format.

my sister came back from a mission trip to Africa a while ago and brought me back a small gift she got overseas, a pair of small handmade dice. i’ve developed a habit where on some mornings I’ll roll them before my day starts to see how high I roll, and sometimes interpret that as what the day might be like. do i believe it? not especially. but I almost sort of pretend to believe it. that’s sort of how i treat horoscopes, except even a little less than that.

48. are you spiritual?

49. describe your pets ( or family if you dont have pets )

we had an extremely good dog named Zeus for a long time. yellow lab, energetic as hell in his youth and even in his old age. started having pain in his legs as he got older and eventually we had to put him down a year or so back.

he’s honestly part of the reason im not sure about getting pets in the future, i dont know if I want to go through that again.

50. are you good at getting over mistakes?

I guess? I mean I’m good at getting over that post-”I fucked up” anxiety for sure, that’s a skill I learned in college within like a year. After a bad test or something I just started forcing myself to say “fuck it it’s over can’t change anything now.”

#asks #saltierthanpearl

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rilenerocks · 5 years ago

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Back in the old days, when I listened to music, except for radio time, I listened to whole albums. This was before the internet, before mp3’s, just plain old before. Over the years, Michael began to compile cassette tapes and then CD’s that were eventually called House Favorites.

They represented the tastes of all of us in our family with something on them for everyone. We listened to these on road trips and eventually, I got used to the order of the songs on them, which replaced the order of songs I expected on the albums from which they’d been extracted. Then the IPod came and along with that was the “shuffle.” So any song could come along at any time until there really wasn’t any order at all, no expectations for that next tune. That was okay. Ultimately Michael loaded 2502 songs on one of those 30 gig early version IPod devices with the scroll wheel which miraculously still works after too many years to count. Although I now have the contents of that IPod on an external hard drive, I don’t think I’ve ever heard all the songs on it. That shuffle just does its random thing. The summer after Michael died I listened to it every day as I prepared exhibits for his celebration of life.

I discovered Pete Yorn, someone I’d missed during my busy mom and work years. I wound up buying his CD’s which was ironic as we’d sold Michael’s vinyl and CD collection which numbered in the thousands, only the year before.

He’d saved a few hundred of our absolute favorites but, after listening to the Ipod, I realized that there would be hidden gems I’d discover as I moved through his collection which had burgeoned over time. I actually when to St. Louis to see Pete Yorn this past year, a posthumous gift from Michael to me.

I’ve just returned from a road trip. I’ve set a goal for myself – to see all 50 states in this country before I die. I only had two left in the eastern portion of this vast space, Alabama and Mississippi. I can’t say I was particularly eager to go these last two as I have really negative feelings about their political persuasions, but a goal is a goal. So I took off with my sister as my companion, along with that trusty Ipod. Recently, I wrote a post about feeling like riding in a car is like zooming along in a time capsule. The only chores you have are focusing on your directions, paying attention to traffic on the road and letting yourself get lost in your mind, often having thoughts stimulated by music. At least if you’re like me. Podcasts and books are also ok, but I like to sing and I like to get carried to the places that music evokes. This trip was about 1400 miles round trip. Lots of places to explore both outside and in your interior. We stopped in the southern part of Illinois and explored part of Shawnee National Park, Garden of the Gods.

There’s no doubt that immersion in nature is soothing to the soul. We ate delicious barbecue and managed to cross both the Mississippi and Tennessee rivers on day one. In Tennessee on day two, I was fascinated to see my first cotton fields in bloom. Some cotton was picked and stored in shiny pastel bales. I had to pull over and grab a few bolls that had blown away and were caught in the grasses and weeds along the highway. So soft and white, yet emotionally evocative as you could easily imagine slaves with sacks slung across their backs on hot days, picking and picking until their backs and feet ached and their fingers bled.

The GPS I was using always seemed to direct me to two lane highways, many of which took us off the beaten path, through small towns where you could get a feel for how average people in the state live. Tennessee was supposed to be a pass through state. We were being instructed to make turns on side streets which required some concentration. I was turning right in one such place, when to my left I spotted one of those brown historical markers that said Shiloh National Battlefield. I braked, stopped and checked the distance from where we were and found that we were only 25 miles away.

Shiloh was a hugely significant and bloody battle that occurred in the Civil War’s western theater in 1862. One of the most talented generals in either army, many of whom were sought by both sides as the war began, was killed at Shiloh – Albert Sidney Johnston. You may think that I’d been doing a little research to come up with this information, but the truth is, I just remembered it. From the time I was about 10 years old, I’d started reading lots of books about Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War.

I can’t specifically recall what the hook was for me, the idea that slavery was allowed and coddled in this country, the fact that fellow citizens and neighbors lined up in the heat and the cold and marched straight into each other’s withering hail of cannonballs, grapeshot and musket fire or the fact that thousands of people did that for four years. I don’t know what it was. But what started when I was a young girl stuck.

All through my life, I read book after book, and did lots of research, not for school or a career, but to try and understand what was for me, an inexplicable waste of human life, when civilized ideas and changes should have worked instead. Over the years, I was lucky enough to go to several battlefields, to feel the ghostly presence of the dead, to imagine the hellish sounds and the chaos and the impossible gore and suffering.

I’ve been to Gettysburg which was almost a religious experience as I’d read dozens of books about the battle and had a strong grasp on the topography of the battlefield. Back in 1980, Michael and I had been trying to get pregnant and my doctor suggested we take a vacation and distract ourselves from that goal. We drove out to Colorado and went to a small town called Redstone to stay in a converted lodge that used to house mine workers. We went on a horseback ride up into the mountains, where I was promptly tossed off my horse, injuring my back.

The next day, I could barely move so I sent Michael off for a hike, while I lay in our bed, reading the book “High Tide at Gettysburg.” Over the years, I continued to read and was able to travel to battlefields in Virginia, Maryland and Georgia. Many of my women friends couldn’t understand my fascination with this war which didn’t seem in keeping with my political leanings. Me neither.

But on it went, the endless fascination. I had always wanted to go to Shiloh. So instead of heading to Tupelo, Mississippi to Elvis Presley’s birthplace, we were on the battlefield. A lot of my memories of what I’d read came flooding back. The countryside is beautiful, wooded and peaceful with deer wandering through the meadows and trees, in between the many monuments and markers which described the progression of the battle. The day was warm and breezy and the atmosphere was remarkably hushed in light of what madness we knew was occuring a mere 157 years ago.

Not very much time has gone by on a relative scale. After a few hours, we left there and moved on to Tupelo where we’d resume our itinerary the next day. But I found myself a bit dazed by that visit and managed to scour the maps to look for more Civil War sites that we could squeeze into our plans. I was happy, excited and grateful that my sister was enjoying the experience as well.

But I was also puzzled. What happened to my war? This interest which had stayed with me for most of my life had gotten away from me. As we drove along, from historical site to historical site, with the redolent music playing in the background, carrying me from memory to memory, I couldn’t find the place in time where this constant preoccupation had slipped into the recesses of my mind. It wasn’t like I never thought about it. But I stopped pursuing my passion. Then I started thinking about other interests that I’ve shunted off to a corner somewhere.

I still have a long way to go in Native American studies even though, again, I’ve read quite a bit. I was an avid college basketball fan and in recent years, I’ve been completely out of that loop. I remember when Michael’s illness blotted out everything. I put all my intellectual energy into cancer, science, studying immunological drugs. Did I lose my focus back then, when my caregiving skills were in high demand by both Michael and my aging mother? I really don’t know. But as I’ve thought about this some more, I realize that I’ve perhaps set aside some valuable tools that might make coping with being a widow more palatable for me. Sometimes things just slip away without you being aware of what’s happening. I want Michael to come back which is an utter impossibility except for the curious otherworldly feelings I get sometimes. But I can get my war back. And who knows what else? I’m going to make another list of goals. And then I’m going to hit the road again.

Where’d My War Go? Back in the old days, when I listened to music, except for radio time, I listened to whole albums.

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daggerzine · 7 years ago

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From Lifeboat, Tackle Box and beyond, Greg “Skeggie” Kendall spills the beans….

I had met Greg “Skeggie” Kendall as a person before I even knew about his music. Sort of. He was road managing The Chills when I saw them in about 1989/1990 or so. I was backstage doing an interview with The Chills’ Martin Phillipps (for my zine, DAGGER) and Skeggie brought him a big salad (not “the big salad” like on Seinfeld but a big salad nonetheless) and faked this posh British accent when he put it down in front of Martin and stated, “Your dinner sir.” I laughed and Skeggie and I chatted bit that evening. He seemed like a real friendly, jovial type, completely unlike some other road managers types I had met throughout the years.

So I’d already missed the boat on his band Lifeboat though I’d heard of them and was sure I’d heard some Lifeboat songs. Then missed his next band, Tackle Box until my pal Jeremy Grites told me I had to hear them which was in the late 90’s or maybe 2000. I picked up copies of those cds, On and Grand Hotel (both released in 1993, if I have my story straight, and both on the Rockville label. They also released “The Wheat Penny Single” 7” the same year on Rockville. Fun fact: his rhythm section on those records, Brian Dunton and Sean King Devlin went on to work with Mary Timony in Helium) and both are filled with the kind of at times loud/ at times soft rock music that too many people missed but really should have heard. As you’ll read below he’s done plenty of other stuff, musically speaking.

You know here at DAGGER I like to dig a little deeper, go for some more obscure folks to interview and it was on a whim that I’d reached out to Skeggie to see if he might want to answer a few questions. Thankfully he did and by reading below you’ll learn about the long strange trip that Mr. Greg Kendall has been on all these years. Long live Skeggie!

John Surrette (Boy's Life), Peter Buck (REM), Skeg Kendall (Lifeboat) 1986, at The Rat in Boston, MA (photo by Paul Robicheau)

Where were you born? Did you grow up in the Boston area?

I was born in Norwalk, CT. In the three years following, my family moved to as many states: from Norwalk to Santa Barbara, CA.; Santa Barbara to Red Hook, in upstate NY; Red Hook to Huntsville, AL. I mostly grew up in Huntsville, but our family did weird satellite missions to other places for awkward fragments of school years. There was half of third grade in Atlantic Beach on Long Island, and before that, a 1968 Cocoa Beach summer at the Del-Ray Motel that stretched beyond the first day of school because my father worked for the space program at Cape Canaveral. Eight months for eighth grade in Gaithersburg, MD, then washing up in Middletown, RI in 1973. So, to answer your question, no, I did not grow up in the Boston area. I moved there in 1981, when I was 21.

Do you remember the first record you ever bought?

I was lucky to have an older brother who was way into music, so I was exposed to scads of great music from very early on. Simply, AM top forty radio WAS my childhood. I tried, but didn’t buy the first record I wanted to buy. There are many tales of the infamous Columbia Record Club. Our family returned from a vacation in what, 1968?, to find a package at our front door I’d ordered from the back of a magazine. “The Birds, The Bees, and The Monkees” is the one I remember. My parents were pissed and had to undo the bad deal and returned that record and the other two that were delivered. I eventually bought that album, and of course loved it. The Monkees are the best band ever.

When did you first pick up an instrument? Was it a guitar?

5 years old. Ukulele. Soon after, the guitar. Cat gut string. My first gig was in kindergarten in Huntsville singing “My Old Kentucky Home” with my brother and sister. There are some uncomfortable lyrics in that tune for three little kids to be singing in 1965 Alabama. (It was only recently that I discovered the origin and intent of the song. Interesting history.)

Lifeboat in 1985, the Living Room in Providence RI

Was Tackle Box your first band? If not tell us about bands prior to it.

Lots of bands before Tackle Box. That was like 1992-93. It’s hard to list the catalogue without supplying background in order to provide fun context. You gotta understand that back in the day we were in the middle of the suburban punk rock expansion explosion, jumping off of what we were gleaning from the CBGB’s scene of the late 1970s and the Detroit thing of MC5 and the Stooges, and also Blue Oyster Cult’s early stuff, not to mention most importantly Lou Reed. I worked backward from “Rock n Roll Animal” to the Velvet Underground in 1975-76. It was mind-blowing. It’s impossible to encapsulate in a brief answer. I moved into the upstairs of a nightclub in Newport RI in 1978. I lived there for two years. I was like 18 and 19 years old. I saw a load of wild shit, ingested a ton of drugs, and had a lot of fun. Johnny Thunders was a regular. I hung out with Sonny Terry and Brownie Magee, J.B. Hutto, and Max Romeo. I held court with Carl Perkins. I played regularly with Jonathan Richman, Mission of Burma, Human Sexual Response, and The Neighborhoods. What else can I say, except that I’m sure there’s a bunch of cool stuff that I can’t remember, plus can’t believe I don’t have Hep C or some other nasty affliction. Our band, Bob Lawton’s Boots —look it up—we were there from the git-go of punk rock. Just sayin’.

Tell us about seeing bands in Boston the 80’s? With the amount of amazing talent there back then you must have had some magical nights!

Yes. Some great nights were involved. “Magical” is a good adjective. I moved to Boston in 1981. It was an exciting time in local music to be there. “Magical” because one had to invent one’s scene if you didn’t dovetail easily into an existing one. A Boston rock scene was in full play, with the ‘Hoods, Mission Burma, Lyres, Neats, Del Fuegos, etc, etc., but to bust into that world required stamina and songs, particularly if you were in a jangly pop band like mine —Arms Akimbo, which became Lifeboat. We had much more in common with the North Carolina and Georgia music scenes than the grittier Boston sound. We had to work hard to prove ourselves, and we pretty much did. That band broke up in 1987.

Tackle Box on Oct 2014 at The Middle East, Cambridge MA (Photo by Johnny Anguish)

How did Tackle Box come about?

The Brothers Kendall were a thing after Lifeboat’s varied successes and failures. My brother Bobby and I wrote a bunch of songs and played a bunch of gigs in 1988-89, maybe 90? I don’t know. We made a record for Bar None with Peter Holsapple from the dBs that never came out, mostly because the record sucked, (through no fault of Peter’s). But, tell you what, I loved that band. We made some music I’m quite proud of. The core of that band became Tackle Box. Shawn Devlin is an amazing drummer I’ve been playing with since the Newport days; Mike Leahy is a genius guitarist (he’s played with Juliana Hatfield, Buffalo Tom, and Pell Mell, among others); and bassist Brian Dunton, (with Devlin, the original Helium rhythm section) are great to work with.

When I (briefly) met you back then you were a tour manager for The Chills. Had you been making your living doing that? If so what other bands did you tour manage?

Wow! Where/when did we meet? That was a goofy gig. If anyone ever asks you, “Hey, should I consider a cross-country tour that requires road managing, driving the van, being the sole roadie and — get this—opening solo act?,” you’re answer should be, “No, definitely don’t do that.”

I also went out as a roadie for the bands Big Dipper, The Feelies, and for the longest stretch, Throwing Muses. I love all of them, very much. So many tales to tell.

How did the deal with Rockville Records come about? Who ran that label (I only knew about Homestead back then).

Jeff Pachman signed us. It just happened I guess because he heard our songs and liked us. I honestly don’t know any other reason.

When/ why did Tackle Box end? Did you have any bands after that?

We all got busy with other stuff, and honestly I was becoming ambivalent about what had started to feel like asking people if they liked me through music. After all those years, I guess hit sort of a mental roadblock. I had a new family, with back-to-back sons, and that had an impact I’m sure on my commitment to touring and other time-consuming aspects of being in a band. But I found a new musical outlet when I fell into scoring film. Doug Macmillan from the band the Connells introduced me to director John Schultz, who enlisted me to write songs for his film Bandwagon, and then asked me to score it. The film screened and was bought at the 1996 Sundance Film Festival, which eventually led me to score Schultz’s 1998 Drive Me Crazy for 20th Century Fox. It was a fun, exciting and satisfying time, despite the steep learning curve.

Who are some of your favorite current bands or musicians?

My son’s projects are what I’d like to talk about.

DJ Lucas https://soundcloud.com/djlucasma

Weird Dane https://soundcloud.com/weirddane

They’ve got a whole lot stuff going on. Their collective, called Dark World, is knee-deep in music making, video projects and fashion design.

Care to tell us your top 10 desert island discs?

It’s hard to get it down to ten, but let’s go with…

Velvet Underground (self-titled third album)

Velvet Underground “Loaded”

New York Dolls “New York Dolls”

New York Dolls “Too Much Too Soon”

Jean Jacques Perry “The Amazing New Electronic Pop Sound Of Jean Jacques Perry”

Yo La Tengo “I Can Hear The Heart Beating As One”

Joni Mitchell “Blue”

Chet Baker “ Let’s Get Lost”

David Bowie “Hunky Dory”

Brian Eno “Music For Airports”

(Plus any and all releases from Gram Parsons)

Tell us about the reunion gig that Tackle Box recently played. Will there be more?

That was super-fun. I hope for more. I love those guys, and I think we rock real nice together. We fell into playing together as if we hadn’t taken over twenty years off.

What is it that you do now? Something in the film industry?

From 2002-2012, my wife Connie White and I booked documentary films into cinemas as Balcony Releasing. We distributed over twenty films in that period. Currently, I’m working with my wife’s company Balcony Booking. She’s the film buyer for eighteen independent art houses and three film festivals.

Check out our new site here: https://www.balconyfilm.com/

Skeg behind a Rhodes in Bellows Falls, VT

Any closing comment? Final thoughts? Anything you wanted to mention that I didn’t ask?

It’s been a long and interesting trip, including my recent graduation from college in May 2016. With all that music stuff going on, I completely forgot to go to college, so I entered in 2012, and graduated four years later from UMass Amherst with a self-designed BA in Historical New England Documentary Studies.

Also, I’m about to embark on a new musical adventure— or I should say, a potential adventure. I’m going to Raleigh, NC to hang with my buddy Doug MacMillan from the Connells. If it works out, we’re thinking about planning a two-hander that explores the odd lives we’ve led in the music business, including stories and songs in a fun and reflective show. We’ll see. I hope it happens. I love those Connells songs.

BONUS QUESTION: Did you ever hear from Mark Lindsay about the song “Mark Lindsay’s Ponytail?”

I have a signed copy from Mark Lindsay of the Tackle Box “Wheat Penny” single that has “Ponytail” on the B-side. He says he liked it. I’m proud to say that one of my songs, “Eeenie Meenie Miney Moe,” originally recorded with Tuffskins, (a fun post-Tackle Box mini-project) was rehearsed by the fantastic Los Straitjackets with vocals by Mark Lindsay for consideration on an album. Alas, a release was not to be. But still, that feels really good, and the song was eventually recorded and released as a single by Rochester, NY garage-rockers Ian and the Aztecs. So, all’s well, that ends well.

www.balconyfilm.com

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lovemesomesurveys · 7 years ago

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When was the last time you used a pair of ear/headphones? Last night.

Have you ever tried to count to infinity? I remember as a kid I’d try to see how high I could count, but I got bored quickly lol.

Do you like making mixed cds? I used to, yeah. With things like Spotify; though, there’s no need anymore.

Would you want to live forever if it meant being a tree? No?

What is the strangest thing you’ve put chocolate on? I don’t think it’s weird, but chocolate covered potato chips are delicious.

Could you earn a good living selling weed? I wouldn’t know.

How would you use a photographic memory? It would have been useful when I was in school.

What would you do tomorrow if you had $500? I’d put it towards my new laptop fund.

What body hair gets the most attention? The hair on my head.

What’s your favorite commercial? I don’t care for commercials.

Do you like pie? I like cookies and cream pie and banana creme. I don’t like fruit pies.

Do you appreciate dishwashers? Yeah.

If you could change someone else’s past, what would you change? Yikes, I wouldn’t. I’m playing this game called Life is Strange, and the main character has the ability to do that, but it’s the whole butterfly effect thing cause you can’t change something without changing everything else. The changes could be good or bad.

What’s the worst experience you don’t remember? The incident that paralyzed me. I was only 7 months old, so I have no memory of it.

Are your dreams usually cheerful? They’re just super random.

What’s your favorite color of eyeliner? Black.

How’s the weather where you are at? It’s finally starting to feel like fall.

Anything bad happen today? Nah.

Can you solve a Rubik’s Cube? I’ve never really tried. I give up fast.

What was the last thing that you microwaved? A microwave tv dinner thingy.

Did you have an easy-bake oven when you were little? Yes.

Have you ever seen a donkey? Yes.

Do you like sheep? Sure.

Do you like dogs? I love dogs.

Do you have one? I do.

Do you ever want to be married? Meh.

Do you take a lot of pictures? Of my puppy, haha.

Where is the boy you want most? Off somewhere not knowing I exist, ha.

Where will you be 2 hours from now? Here.

What is your current mood? Hungry and tired.

Where are you going tomorrow? I have a doctor appointment.

Who was the last person you yelled at? *shrug*

Do you think you’ll be a good Mother/Father? I don’t even know if I want kids.

The last thing you drank? Coke.

What’s in your pocket? Nothing.

What colour are your fingernails? Natural color.

Have you ever left school just because you didn’t want to be there? No.

Did anything cute happen today? My puppy is cute.

What are you currently hearing? The TV.

Are you afraid of the dark? Yes.

Do you usually tell people when they hurt your feelings? Very rarely.

Do you have a common first name? I knew a few Stephanie’s growing up, but it seems less common now.

Do you like your middle name or your first name more? My first name.

What year would/did you turn 21? 2010.

What was popular when you were a kid? Barbies.

Do you wear more rings or necklaces? Neither.

Have you ever been engaged? Nope.

Can you see your veins through your skin? Yeah.

Do you worry about having good grammar online? Yes.

Do you know anyone with a lazy eye? No.

Did your parents let you have pets when you were a kid? Yep.

Would you rather live in an apartment or a duplex? I live in a duplex.

Do you like spicy chips? I loved spicy chips and spicy everything, but I can’t eat that stuff anymore due to health reasons. :/

Do you have any ‘different’ keychains on your keys/purse? Yeah.

Do you collect pins? No.

What band was on the last band t-shirt you wore? Nirvana.

Do you wear more pink or yellow? Neither.

Have you ever been out of the state you were born in? Yes.

Do you have any tattoos on your arms? I don’t have any tattoos at all.

Have you ever owned or known someone who owned a black cat? No.

When was the last time you felt jealous? I don’t know.

What’s the last thing you bought besides food/drink? Sweaters.

What album is the last song you listened to from? I forget what the last song I listened to was.

Who scheduled your last doctor visit? My mom still does that for me.

What’s the last video game you played? Life is Strange.

Do you have anything on your wrists right now? Nope.

Do you have any holiday theme’d socks? Yes.

What kind of accent do you have? Californian, I guess?

What’s the last funny movie you watched? Hmmm.

Can you remember your parents’ birthdays? Yes, of course.

Is there anyone who you just absolutely cannot STAND being around? No.

What is the design on your shirt? It’s an old school Star Wars shirt.

Do you know anyone who just flat-out fails at life? Me?

Are you a Ghoulscout? No.

Do you know someone who’s just always wrong about everything? Kinda.

Do you make fun of people often? No.

Do you read your friend’s surveys? I read the answers to a few people on here that I follow.

If you had to get a tattoo tomorrow, what would you pick? I’ve been wanting to get free bird tattooed on my inner wrist, but I’m a wuss.

How do you feel about band tattoos? I don’t feel any kind of way about them.

How much are you willing to pay for a pair of sunglasses? I don’t wear sunglasses cause I wear glasses.

What is the origin of your last name? Irish.

Do you ever use the n-word? No.

What piercing do you like most on the opposite sex? Not into piercings anymore, but I used to like snakebites.

What brand of hair dye do you prefer to use? I get my hair done at the salon.

What country do you live in? USA.

Did/do you ride the bus to and from school? I had to take the bus sometimes while in college.

Do you prefer beef, chicken or steak? Chicken.

Are you any good at applying make up? I suck. I just keep it simple with eyeliner and mascara.

Do you misuse commas? I don’t believe so.

Have you ever bitten your dentist? No.

Are you someone who likes to make simple things difficult? I’m great at making everything difficult.

Who makes you laugh the most? My lil bro.

Do you have any plans for this weekend? Nope.

Do you crack your knuckles? Sometimes.

Coffee or Tea? Coffee.

Do you know anyone named Matt? Nope.

Wearing any bracelets? No.

When were you last outside? Uhhh.

Do you need someone to cheer you up right now? Meh.

Are your nails painted? Nope.

Do you think things will change in the next 3 months? No.

Do you think you’d make a good parent? If I decide to be a parent someday I would like to think so, but as of now I don’t see myself having kids.

You start crying. Who do you want by your side? No one.

Ever cried while you were on the phone with someone? Yeah.

Did someone screw you over lately? No.

Would you ever get your hips pierced? No.

If you were given the chance to go to Paris, would you go? Um, YES.

Who was the first person you talked to today? My dad.

What’s your favorite musical? I have a few I like, but I don’t have a particular favorite.

How do you get to sleep? I get so tired that I pass out. ha.

What happened at the last party you went to? I hung out with some people. That’s about it.

Have you ever smoked a cigarette? Nope.

What’s your hair like at this present moment? A mess.

Are you more comfortable sitting or lying down? Lying down.

What’s the worst film you’ve ever seen? *shrug*

Are you an untidy person? No.

Have you ever been a fan of N*Sync? Yep.

Do you watch a lot of television? It’s mostly on as background noise, but I do have my shows I watch.

Do you think you’re fat sometimes? No.

Do you like to flex your muscles? What muscles?

Do you think you’ll ever get plastic surgery? No.

Have you ever completely misunderstood what somebody was saying? Yeah. It happens.

Favorite kind of cake: Funfetti or white cake. Always with buttercream frosting.

Was it a boy or a girl to text you last? Boy.

Name something you are doing tomorrow? I have a doctor appointment.

Do you sleep on your stomach? No.

Where are you going to be at 4:00 p.m. tomorrow? Probably still at my appointment because they take forever.

Are you missing someone? Yes.

Do you like horror or comedy? Comedy.

Who did you last share a taxi with? My friend.

Dogs or cats? Dogs.

What were you doing at 12 this afternoon? Sleeping.

Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 months from now? No.

What’s your favorite season? Why? Fall and winter.

When’s the last time you did something you knew was wrong? I don’t know.

Did you have any unread text messages this morning when you woke up? Yeah.

Who was the last person you hugged? My mom.

Do you think you would be a good parent? wtf lol i swear this survey has asked this three times? <<< Okay it’s not just me I was like wtf?? Enough with this.

When was the last time you cried? The other day.

Who was driving the last time you were in a car? My mom.

Does any part of your body hurt right now? Yes.

Do you like your bed? Yes.

When did you last talk to your brother or sister? Just a bit ago.

How much cash do you have on you? I don’t have any on me.

Are you tanned? No.

Did you get any compliments today? I haven’t gone anywhere. Not that I would because I look like a mess.

Have you ever gone to court? No.

Do you get jealous easily? No.

Would you ever want to swim with the sharks? Nooooo.

What are you doing Saturday? Nothing. I should get my hair done, though.

What is in your back pocket? Nothing.

What were you doing at 3:00 a.m. this morning? Playing Life is Strange, current obsession.

What do you usually do first in the morning? Check the time.

Are you any good at math? Nope.

Any plans for Friday night? No.

Do you have a little crush on someone? Yes.

When’s the last time you ran?  Uhhh.

Do your jeans have rips, tears, and holes in them? No.

What are you dreading right now? My appointment tomorrow.

Do you celebrate 420? No.

Do you get the full 8 hours of sleep a night? Yeah.

If anyone came to your house on your “lazy days” what would ya’ll do? Ha, everyday is my “lazy” day. I don’t like unexpected visits.

Who last grabbed your ass? Probably Joseph.

Have you ever been on your school’s track team? No.

Do you own a pair of Converse? Yep, a couple.

Did you copy and paste this survey? Well, yeah?

Do you eat raw cookie dough? I used to as a kid when I didn’t know about salmonella.

Have you ever kicked a vending machine? No.

Don’t you hate it when the radio ruins good songs by playing them over and over? I don’t listen to the radio anymore, but yeah that was annoying.

Do you watch Trading Spaces? Nope.

How do you eat oreos? I twist ‘em and only eat the part with the creme and I dip it in coffee.

Have you ever stayed online for a very long time waiting for someone? Yeah.

Are you cocky? No.

Could you live without a computer? I’d really rather not.

Do you wear your shoes in the house? No.

Who or what sleeps with you? I have stuffed animals on my bed.

At what age did you find out that Santa wasn’t real? I think about 8.

What do you do when you’re sad? I’m always sad, so I just go about my day and do what I do.

Who would you call first if you won the lottery? My mom.

Last time you saw your best friend? Last night. I slept in super late today and she already had left for work when I got up.

Are you in high school? Ha, no.

What jewelry are you wearing? None.

Is anyone on your bad side now? No.

What’s the first thing you do when you get online? Tumblr.

Do you watch Grey’s Anatomy? No.

Would you wear a boy/girlfriends clothes? Sure.

Where do you work? I don’t.

What are you doing tomorrow? I’m answered this so many times.

Do you return your cart? My mom does.

Do you have a dishwasher? Yes.

What noise do you hear? The fan and my brother cooking.

Would you survive in prison? No.

Who is the youngest in your family? In my immediate family it’s my younger brother. In my extended it’s one of my 2nd cousins.

If all of your friends were going on a road trip, who would most likely overpack? Me.

What’s the last thing you purchased? Food.

Do your siblings ever pay for stuff for you? Yes.

What brand are your pants right now? *shrug*

Ever been to Georgia (the state)? I have, actually.

What irritates you most on the internet? Just some posts I see and comments made about certain things.

What brand is your digital camera? I use my phone for my camera.

Do you own expensive perfume/cologne? No.

Are you taking college classes right now? Nope.

Do you like sushi? No.

Do you get your hair cut every month? No. I haven’t had a haircut in like 2 years.

Do you go online everyday? Yep.

What makes someone a best friend? You just have a special connection.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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5hfanfiction · 8 years ago

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our broken white rose (3/?) ⇾ camren

a/n: i was gonna update tomorrow after wedding planning with my fiancée but she’s with her dad doing father, daughter shit and im home alone, bored and cold so after this if y'all wanna pm me, im not opposed to it. seriously. be my friend. pLEASE! ok enjoy this chapter. please comment as you read, let me know what you think, answer end of the chapter questions and vote! ilyy..

-after writing chapter: i started this at like 6 PM east coast time AND ITS LITERALLY 3:30 AM. fuck lmao. ok enjoy

***

I lightly drummed my fingertips on the wooden table, humming to myself as I glanced up at the clock. Tori should be here any minute now.

Its been about a week since my encounter with Tori at Luca’s Ice Cream Shoppe and since then, I’ve managed to give her my number and semi let her into my life. It’s weird. I haven’t made “friends” with anyone other than my co-workers since Camila’s passing. The only person I had was Lucy and if she wasn’t watching the girls for me, she was spending time with Kandee (kay-n-dee). So it was nice but, weird, having someone I can just talk to whenever.

Today happened to be Tori’s last day in California and as weird as it sounded, I’m going to miss her. Her flight was to take off in about three hours from now and she was coming in to collect the demo she had recorded for her friend Karla and the few solo tracks we managed to edit and get done.

When I heard the creek of the studio door opening, I turned around and smiled at Tori as she shoved her wild curls out of her face and hurried in. “I’m so sorry I’m late. The checkout line at my hotel was crazy. I had to checkout before noon or they’d charge me for the night and I’ve been there since eight in the morning,” she explained with a loud sigh. “I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, chuckling softly. “It’s fine Tori. I’m in no rush, you’re good,” I shrugged it off.

She nodded, seemingly relieved. “Thanks.”

Walking over to the recording booth, I grabbed the two CD cases before walking back over to Tori who was in the process of putting her hair up. “This is your demo and your other recordings,” I explained, handing it over when her hands were finally free.

A wide smile formed on her lips. She took the CDs from me before throwing her arms around me. I stood in shock for a few moments before laughing awkwardly and hugged her back. She pulled away, dimples on display. “Thank you so much Lauren. I can’t wait until Karla and my mom sees these,” she said, looking down at them with nothing but excitement.

I smiled. “I’m sure they’ll love it. You sound amazing.”

I watched as a small blush fell upon her cheeks before she looked up at me. “Thanks a lot Laur. I couldn’t have done all this without you.”

“Yeah you could’ve. You’re incredible all on your own,” I said. “Have you ever thought of moving out here and starting a music career? Any label would be fucking stupid not to sign you. I could even get you in touch with the label my w…” I trailed off, waving my hands around, hoping she’d catch on. She looked at me for a moment before her mouth formed an ‘O’ shape and nodded. “Yeah. With her label. It’s really hard to come across good talent nowadays. The industry could use real people like yourself.”

Tori shook her head, a bashful smile gracing itself on her lips. “I don’t know about all of that… my family is in Alaska. And Karla’s having a baby soon and her fiancée isn’t too fond of leaving town let alone the state.”

I shrugged, “Who says Karla and her crew has to come? I think you should put your dreams before them. But that’s just me. I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, but if you ever feel like it’s the right time, you know where to reach me.”

Tori nodded slowly, in thought. “Well, Karla’s my best friend. And I don’t think I’d want to leave her all alone while I’m over here. And my mom and her sisters and brothers…” she shook her head. “Music is just a fantasy of mine I’ve gotten the chance to make reality within this last week and a half thanks to you. But I think after this, I’ll just let it stay a fantasy. I have too many people back home to just up and abandon to live some dream that’ll probably fail,” a small frown replaced her perfect smile.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head before leading her over to the lounging couches to take a seat. My feet were hurting. I thought for a second, attempting to gather my words. “When I left my family and friends, I had just turned sixteen,” I started. “It was the scariest thing of my life. I auditioned to start my dream as a solo act but instead got paired with four girls who absolutely changed my life. It was beyond terrifying to be just a teenager leaving home. I left my little sister and brother, my grandma had died while I was on the road.

“I missed so much of my siblings growing up. And sometimes I really regretted it. I didn’t get to go to college like my brother and sister and everyone else I grew up with. I didn’t get that normal upbringing. But if I had the chance to go back and change anything, I wouldn’t. Because my dream had come true. I got to tour the world with my favorite people for four fucking years, married the woman of my dreams, had two beautiful daughters and now work with helping others make their dreams come true.

"It may be scary, and it may be hard letting go, but God it’s the best feeling in the world - knowing you’re impacting just one persons life with your voice. Its incredible. And I wouldn’t be sharing this with you if I didn’t think you were cut out for it. You remind me a lot of two people. One of my former bandmate’s, Ally. Always wanting to care about everyone, sometimes forgetting herself.

"And my wife… so much talent but so scared of upsetting people that they sit on it for years. When she left our group, people hated her. Hell, I hated her. But what I loved about her and still love to this day was that she finally got up one day and showcased her talent the way she wanted to. Not the way the world wanted her to. And hopefully that one day comes soon for you too.”

I wasn’t sure where all of that had come from. It seemed the the words just kept on falling through my ass crack and out my mouth and it wouldn’t stop. Kinda like when Dinah made those tacos all those years ago and we had only one bathroom. What a night.

Tori smiled slightly at me before laughing to herself, “Your wife seemed like an amazing woman.”

I shook my head, “Not seemed. She’s not gone. She’s always with me.”

Tori nodded, apologizing. “I’m sorry. Seems. I’m sure she’s really proud of you. Wherever she may be.”

I looked down at my fingers before sighing. I missed her. But I wouldn’t cry. Not today. Looking back up I smiled. “I sure hope so.”

***

“Promise you’ll visit again?” I asked, pulling away from Tori and I’s hug. I had offered to drop her off at the airport, insisting that Uber’s were crazy and Taxi’s were overpriced but really, I just wanted to spend a little more time with her. Of course she protested a million times. That’s something I learned about Tori in this last week. She hated feeling like a burden or like she was bothering you. I admired that about her.

A wide smile took over her features, dimples on full display saying hello to LAX. “Of course. I’ll text you when I land,” she promised.

Nodding once more, I watched as she turned around and heading to check in her luggage. Sighing to myself, I proceeded out the airport. Well, there goes another person in my life.

When I returned home, Lucy was watching TV on the couch, phone in hand and different pouches of candy scattered all over. I rolled my eyes.

“What are you, a troll?” I laughed, plopping down beside her.

She glanced at me with a raised eyebrow before looking back down at her phone. “Well hello to you too,” she mumbled.

“Where are the girls?” I asked, looking up towards the stairs. The house didn’t seem to be upside down like usual.

Lucy shut her phone off, looking at me. “Luna is probably sleeping off her sugar rush and Lana is in her art room.”

“You gave them candy?!” I yelled, throwing a couch pillow at her to which she caught with ease. “Stop trying to give my kids diabetes! You do this every time.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just trying to sweeten up their lives. You’re the one making them drink fucking green vegetable shakes telling them they’d get cancer if they didn’t. The only thing at risk of giving those children cancer is whatever is in that poison you call health,” she huffed, opening a new pack of skittles and downing a handful.

I looked at her for a moment before sighing to myself. “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

“Yet you use to be in love with me.”

“Yeah, before you cheated on me and brought another woman in my bed,” I blurted out. Lucy turned to look at me, obvious pain behind her deep brown eyes. I sighed, shaking my head at myself. No wonder I had no friends. I’m such a mood killer. “Sorry, I was just fucking around.”

Lucy took a deep breath, looking down as she fumbled with the empty pack of skittles. “I know. I just can’t help but feel you’ll never fully forgive me for that…”

I shrugged, “I already forgave you. I guess it’s too sensitive of a topic to joke about.”

Lucy laughed humorlessly to herself, before looking at me again. “You say you forgave me but if you did, you would have given us another shot last year when I brought it up.”

I shook my head, “Don’t start again please. You’re with Kandee.”

“I know that, but you know if you would’ve given me a chance I’d be with you. Helping you raise Luna and Lana. I love those girls… and you. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to get you to replace Camila–”

“Can you just stop?” I cut her off. I looked away, not wanting to see the pain behind her eyes. “I thought we agreed on only being friends, Lucy,” I sighed. “Besides, my wife just died–”

“Oh my god Lauren its been four fucking years. She’s not your wife. She’s a dead woman. They found her remains. She’s gone. Luna and Lana hardly fucking remember her. Stop talking about her! We’re over it, you need to get over it too.”

I looked at Lucy in nothing but disbelief. Taking several calming deep breaths, I blocked out her attempts to apologize as I made my way up the stairs, stopping the tears from falling. Halfway up the stairs, I looked back down at Lucy who was now standing, getting ready to follow me up. “Please go home to your girlfriend and stop telling me how to live my life simply because you can’t get over the past.”

***

Tori tossed and turned in her bed. It was her first night back in Alaska and although she was happy to see her mom again, she’s been battling with an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach since earlier that day when she had went over to visit Karla, only for Kristen (Lola) to throw some absurd excuse as to why she couldn’t come in.

*Flashback*

Ringing the doorbell by the wooden door, Tori gripped the box of Hawaiian Pizza tighter from excitement. She had just arrived no less than two hours ago and was ready to surprise Karla with a box of her favorite pizza all while binge watching ‘Friends’.

When no one came to the door, she glanced at the driveway to make sure Kristen’s Dodge Durango was still there. Looking back at the closed door with a frown, she rang the doorbell two more times. “Maybe they just didn’t hear it,” she mumbled to herself.

A few minutes passed before she heard someone unlocking the several locks on the door. It was still crazy to her that Kristen felt that they needed six locks on one door, but she wasn’t one to judge.

When the wooden door to the cabin like three story home flew open, Tori smiled widely at Kristen, getting ready to walk in only to be stopped. Frowning, she shot Kristen a weird look. “Uh, I have pizza for Karla and I. I just got back from my trip,” she explained, waving the box of pizza in a form of obvious proof.

Kristen looked back into the house for a moment before stepping out and shutting the door behind her. Tori stumbled back, a confused frown permanently etched onto her lips. “What the hell? Why aren’t you letting me in?”

Kristen crossed her arms, looking at Tori with raised eyebrows. “Okay first, I have no obligation to let you into my home,” she started. “And two, Karla isn’t feeling too well. Pizza isn’t exactly something she should be eating.”

Ignoring Kirsten’s first comment, concern instantly washed over Tori. “What’s wrong with her? Why isn’t she feeling well?” She asked, attempting to weave around Kristen to go on inside. When she felt a strong arm shove her back, she grew angry. Light brown eyes glared at hazel ones. “What the fuck Kristen!”

Kristen rolled her eyes, holding Tori away. “She’s not having any visitors right now. She’s contagious.”

Tori scoffed, “That’s bullshit, I don’t care. Can I please just see her? To make sure she’s fine at least?”

Kristen raised an eyebrow, now glaring at Tori in annoyance. “What, do you not trust me? Just go home and rest Victoria. You probably have jet lag or something. You can come back next week.”

Tori’s eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. “Next week?! What the hell, please tell me what’s happening. Can I just say hi? I promise I’ll leave right after Kris,” she begged.

Her heart fell into her stomach when Kristen ignored her, walking back inside and shutting the door behind her. Concern was swarming throughout her body and she didn’t know what to do.

“Does Karla not wanna see me?” She mumbled to herself.

That was the only thing that made sense. Kristen wouldn’t intentionally keep her away like that. Even when Karla had strep throat, she was still allowed to see her. It wasn’t about it being contagious. Karla just didn’t want to see her anymore.

Frowning down at the box of pizza, she sighed, holding her tears in as she turned back around and headed back to her car.

***

Staring up at her bedroom ceiling, she huffed before crawling out of bed. Heading into the living room, she was about to make her way into the kitchen for some water when she realized her study room light was on. “I thought I turned that off…” she mumbled.

Crossing the floor of her living room and into her study room, she jumped nearly twenty feet into the air. Heart beating erratically, she held her chest as her breathing hitched.

“Oh hey Tori,” her mother greeted looking up from the computer screen in front of her before looking back down. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She took a deep breath before letting it out. “I didn’t know you decided to stay,” she mumbled out, pulling a chair up and sitting down.

Her mom raised an eyebrow at her, “That’s never bothered you before.”

“Yeah I know, I’m sorry. Just kinda scared me…”

“Alright. Well what are you doing up? Don’t you have work? It’s nearly four in the morning.”

Sighing dramatically, she ran her hands up and down her face. “Just kind of worried about Karla,” she said quietly, playing with the loose thread on her pajama bottoms.

Looking away from the computer screen, Laura (Tori’s mother) turned to face her daughter and gave her full attention. “What’s the matter with Karla? Is she having issues with the baby?”

Tori shook her head, shrugging. “I’m not even sure Ma. I went over there after my flight with a box of her favorite pizza and Kristen opened the door, and made up an excuse as to why I couldn’t come in. She said Karla had some sort of "contagious sickness” and that I should come back next week. But Ma, I was with Karla when when she had strep throat and every other illness. I think Kris is being a little sketchy. She even shoved me away when I tried to go inside.“

Laura gave her daughter a puzzled look before sighing. "I never really trusted that woman…”

“Karla? Why? You know she’s more honest than Mary herself.”

Laura shook her head laughing lightly. “Not Karla, she’s a sweetheart. I’m talking about Kristen.”

Tori frowned, “Oh. Well, this is the first time I’m actually doubting her words. I don’t really know her, whenever I’m around she’s either working in her office or not talking. Karla says she doesn’t like a lot of people and she’s really closed off.”

Laura rolled her eyes, sliding her rolling chair back and forth on the carpeted floor as she thought. “I don’t know sweetheart. She just has rubbed me the wrong way for far too long. I don’t think she’s as good of a person as you think she may be.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about Ma. Karla wouldn��t be with her if she was a bad person. I’m just overreacting because I couldn’t see my best friend,” Tori defended.

Laura sighed to herself as she stood up. Walking towards her daughter, she planted a soft kiss on her forehead, pushing her curly blonde locks back. “I like how you always want to see the best in people baby girl, but I’ve been around far longer than yourself. I think I know a good person verses a bad person when I see it. Maybe Karla herself doesn’t even know. But I could be wrong, just get some sleep. I’m heading to bed.”

Tori felt her shoulders drop. “Okay. Fresh towels in the guest room bathroom,” she called over her shoulder.

“Thanks baby! Go to sleep now.”

Tori didn’t know how long she sat in the study room of her condo just thinking. But when she finally decided to head on up to bed, the sun was nearly coming up. “I guess this calls for a phone call to work faking sick…”

Entering her room, she flopped down on her bed staring up at the ceiling. Looking over at her nightstand where her phone sat, she picked it up deciding to do a bit of internet surfing before sleeping.

On her screen was two messages from Lauren. “Oh shit.”

Lauren - 7:24 PM: Hey, I don’t mean to be annoying and shit but just checking in to make sure you landed safely??

Lauren - 2:03 AM: I’m kinda worried. I gotta head to bed now but I bet you’re just busy or sleeping or something. Get back to me when you can.

Sitting up, she couldn’t help but smile at her concern but felt bad at the same time. She totally forgot to text her after she landed.

Tori - 5:59 AM: hey, i’m really sorry. i literally JUST saw your messages. i landed safely. just been stressed.

Tori went to put her phone down and head to sleep when it all of a sudden beeped. Frowning down at it, she raised an eyebrow when she realized it was Lauren.

Lauren - 6:01 AM: Oh no it’s okay. Just glad you’re safe and all. Penny for your thoughts?

Tori - 6:01 AM: wow, did you stay up awaiting my message? lol. but nah, i don’t wanna bug ya

Tori fumbled with her phone as she waited for a new reply. “Sleep is for losers anyways,” she mumbled to herself.

Lauren - 6:04 AM: Nooo, lmfao. I have kids, remember? It’s like 7 AM and I gotta take them to school. And you won’t, I promise.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she contemplated talking to Lauren about her concerns before typing away on her phone.

Tori - 6:05 AM: ooohhhh. damn i’m sorry that legit slipped my mind. sucks you gotta be up so early )-:

Tori - 6:05 AM: and i’m just worried about karla, you know, the one i made the demo for? yeah her

Tori found herself falling asleep when Lauren didn’t reply after a few minutes. She was nearly in sleep world when her phone buzzed beneath her finger tips.

Lauren - 6:13 AM: Me being up early? Look at you. But what are you worried about? Her not liking it?

***

Walking up the stairs, body beyond sore, Camila banged her fist on the locked door. “L-Lola. Please, I’m sorry,” she croaked out through the shut door. She’s been down in that basement for far too long and she was tired. She rather live under Lola’s rules then down there in darkness.

She felt tears prick her eyes when no one came. She was probably gone. Limping back down the stairs, she walked over to her corner and sat. “Please hurry up and save me Lolo…” she whispered as the first tear escaped.

She had bruises covering every inch of her body. Her stomach was in severe pain. She didn’t even know if the being within her was still alive. She hasn’t felt a single kick in days and she couldn’t help but feel worried but relieved all at once.

Minutes after she had come back down the stairs, the basement door swung open, Lola standing at the top. She flicked on the lights and Camila stood up as quickly as her body would allow her to. “Please Lola, I’m sorry,” she whispered as she came closer. “Don’t leave me down here anymore. I’m scared.”

Lola stared at her fiancée for a few moments before dropping the wooden stick in her hand, watching as it tumbled down the stairs. Hazel eyes locked with brown ones as she descended from the staircase. Camila stumbled back slightly when Lola unexpectedly wrapped her arms around her. “I hate to teach you lessons like that love,” She could feel her body tremble in fear but forced herself to hug her back, scared she may upset her and make her leave her down here again. “I love you.”

She stayed silent, hoping she could pass as not hearing it, but of course Lola wouldn’t allow that. Pulling away, she bent down to stare her in the eyes. “I said, I love you,” Looking down, she felt Lola’s hand grip her chin firmly. “You love me too, right?” Camila could feel a fresh set of tears coming as she nodded hesitantly. “Words baby, use your words.”

“Y-Yes… I love you too,” she whispered softly.

Lola smiled a creepy smile before bringing her lips down to Camila and engaging her into a rough kiss. She could feel the bile of disgust rising up her throat as she forced herself to kiss back. Lola soon pulled away, smiling creepily at Camila. “Good girl. Now, we’re gonna go make sure our baby boy is okay, alright?”

***

Camila sat and looked around the small examination room nervously. Lola had covered all of her bruises up with waterproof makeup. You could still see the slight obvious swelling on her lip and left eye, but it looked mostly like bloating.

The ultrasound technician walked in with a bright smile. “Hello Karla, Kristen. Its been awhile,” Holly greeted.

Holly was the first ultrasound technician to take a look at Camila when she had found out she was pregnant and had helped them several times before. Its been a few months since they’d last seen each other.

Lola smiled at Holly; extending her hand out to which Holly shook. “It has, hasn’t it?”

Smiling slightly herself, Camila nodded, not in the mood to speak. “So lets begin, yeah?”

Laying back on the examination bed near the machine, Camila raised her shirt up, exposing her protruding stomach. She hoped the makeup Lola put wouldn’t rub off when Holly started with the gel.

She winced when Holly pressed the gel covered wand firmly onto her stomach, swiftly moving it around.

Minutes later, Holly gave Camila a wipe to clean herself up and smiled at her. “Dr. Peterson should be in shortly,” she said before walking out.

Lola and Camila sat in silence as they waited for the OBGYN. Soon, the familiar blonde haired woman walked in with a bright smile. “Karla, Kristen! How is my favorite couple doing?” She laughed, taking a seat at the doctors chair.

After doing the usual friendly greeting, Dr. Peterson set her belongings down on the table before going over Camila’s chart silently for a moment before turning to the “couple.”

“Well, everything looks pretty decent to me. What does concern me although is the slightly slowed down heartbeat but that could just be due to early stages of the pregnancy,” or your crazy bitch of a “fiancée” trying to kill you by kicking your stomach over and over for an hour straight, she thought to herself. “Kristen, do you mind stepping outside with me? I want to speak to you about something,” Dr. Peterson requested.

Lola glanced at Camila before looking at Dr. Peterson and nodding. Camila watched in silence and confusion as the two women walked out of the room.

Minutes passed and neither have returned. Camila glanced around nervously before her eyes landed on Dr. Peterson’s cell phone sitting on the counter. A risky thought crossed her mind as she glanced at the door.

She waited a few more minutes to make sure no one was coming before quickly getting up and dashing across the room to retrieve the cellular device. “Please don’t have a lock, please don’t have a lock, please don’t have a lock,” she whispered over and over again to herself as she turned it on. She paced around impatiently as the apple logo came onto the phone. Glancing back the door, her eyes widened when she saw the handle turning slightly.

Looking at the phone in her hand that was currently rebooting, she shoved it into her bra and made her way back to the examination table, sitting and acting as normal as she possible could. Praying that Dr. Peterson doesn’t notice her missing phone right away.

“Well, you ladies are free to go. Make a follow up appointment for a well check in four weeks at the front desk. Hope to see you soon,” she smiled, gathering her things all at once and walking out.

Lola looked at Camila with a raised eyebrow. “C'mon.”

Standing in place Camila tried to think of an excuse as quickly as possible. “I… I uh. I have to poop!” She blurted out.

Lola looked at her with slightly wide eyes before sighing. “You can do that at home.”

“I can’t hold it,” she insisted.

Lola rolled her eyes in annoyance, “Hurry up and ask someone for the bathroom.”

Nodding and shooting Lola a small nervous smile to seem as unsuspicious as possible, Camila hurried and waddled out of the exam room, spotting a near by bathroom and walking in. She quickly locked the door behind her.

Taking the phone out from her bra, she was surprised that Lola didn’t notice it considering the fact that she had absolutely no breasts and anything against her chest was pretty obvious but she thanked god she hadn’t cause she was kind of nervous to find out what Lola would have done if she did. Lola never allowed her to have a phone, being the main reason why she’s never been able to find help for herself. Lola tracked her every move. Almost like a stalker. She couldn’t tell her co-workers because Lola was pretty much always at work with her or watching from afar. Lola was everywhere. But this was her moment. Her one chance.

Turning the phone on, she slid her thumb across the screen and nearly cried tears of joy when she realized there was no lock. She begged her mind to remember the one persons number she hoped and prayed stayed the same all these years. Her thumbs shook nervously as she typed away.

***

“Wait, I gotta go grab my phone!” She called out before running up the stairs and into her room.

Walking over to her nightstand, she picked it up getting ready to chuck it into her purse before it vibrated several times. Her heart stopped at what she read. Someone had to be fucking with her.

At least that’s what she thought until she read the last message.

Unknown - 2:34 PM: dinah, i need your help. it’s camila

Unknown - 2:34 PM: please don’t reply to this number. its not my phone

Unknown - 2:35 PM: im in yakutat alaska. lola is literally keeping me hostage

Unknown - 2:36 PM: i cant explain much but im in danger and i need your help. please. is lauren ok? are my kids ok?

Unknown - 2:36 PM: fuck dont answer that. i have no time at all. but if you do see them, tell them i love them so much and i miss them more than anything in the world

Unknown - 2:37 PM: i told lola i had to take a shit but i gotta hurry. dont reply back. PLEASE! just send help. im in yakutat alaska living on 5285 maplewood road

Unknown - 2:37 PM: please… im begging you cheech. help me

***

a/n: oooooooo…. alright. welp, this chapter sucked ass but idk. tell me what you think.

what do you think is gonna happen next?

what do you think about tori’s mom’s suspicions?

how do you feel about what lucy said?

what do you expect going forth?

how do you think dinah will respond to those messages?

what do you think dr. peterson and lola had to talk about?

camila and her new son on the way?

what are your overall thoughts?

thanks so much for reading. dont forget to comment and vote, ily yall.

to my tumblr readers, add this story on my wattpad to comment, vote, ask direct questions, etc. @ wthbello also don’t forget to follow (:

ellianna, xxxxxxxx

#UPDATE #series #x factor #non AU #AU #slash #camren #angst drama #romance fluff #submission #our broken white rose

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