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bonesandscales · 6 years ago

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Hannibal Fic Recs

I’ve seen a couple of those floating around lately so I thought I’d do one too. Here are some of my favourite fics in the fandom.

1. Rediscovered Treasures by Nalyra (@allione). Will finds Hannibal's stash "erotica" from around the world. Hannibal of course claims that it's all "art"--very sophisticated and classy--and Will is just like, "that is a woman fucking a squid ffs”.

(sending a million kisses to allione because this is the fic that made me start writing for this fandom ❤)

2. Omiai by iesika (@iesika). Will acquires a murderous secret admirer, and learns how much easier the habit of violence can be with an enthusiastically willing target.

A courtship through blood and… other means of influence.

3. Sounders of Three by inameitlater. "The Chesapeake Ripper kills in sounders of three.

"In which Will continues his journey after the events of "We Killed a Dragon Last Night".

4. Ravenous by rageprufrock. Clarice Starling meets Hannibal Lecter armed with a copy of the Buffalo Bill file.

5. i feel your thumbs press into my skin again by softhan (@strongwillgraham). Autoimmune encephalitis can be a recurring disease,” Hannibal says, as gently as Will has ever heard him.“Oh, god.” Will brings his hands up and covers his face. He takes a moment to just breathe, letting the thought hit him and settle, mind spiraling in a hundred directions. “What are we going to do about that? I can’t very well just check myself into a hospital and say ‘Hi, I have a history of this rare autoimmune disease that a fugitive who looks exactly like me is known for having’, can I?”

Will has a relapse of his encephalitis, but Hannibal and their dogs take good care of him.

6. The Torment of Tantalus by InfiniteCrisis (@crisisoninfintefandoms). Set in Cuba after the fall. Hannibal isn’t touching Will. Will wants to know why, but is afraid to ask.

Sexual and emotional tension and resolution; a comedy of errors told by the ocean and classical mythology.

"Everyone always spoke of the torment of Tantalus; no one ever stopped to consider what it was like for the tree."

7. The Estate by bokunojinsei (@bokuno-jinsei). "Love involves a peculiar unfathomable combination of understanding and misunderstanding."

-Diane Arbus

Chiyoh had shot Will down in the street, his forgiveness falling with a clatter to the pavement. Hannibal, once intent on his belief that only by consuming Will could he be free of him, decides impulsively to try something a little different than what he had planned.

Or: What if Hannibal hadn't tried to eat Will after he drugged him in Florence? What if he'd decided to run away with him instead?

8. Out Of The Depths by TiggyMalvern (@tiggymalvern). After the fall, Hannibal gets away and Will is left behind to deal with Jack, and the wreckage.

9. Physis by Chifuyu (@staticraining). After everything that has happened in Italy, there is still one last obstacle Will Graham has to overcome before he can try and pick up the broken pieces that once were his life: Being a witness at Hannibal Lecter’s trial.

10. The Sun’s Light Failed by shiphitsthefan (@shiphitsthefan). “I know what you are," Will tells him. "You’re the Ripper. I see you."

A long pause, and then Hannibal very carefully says, “You shouldn’t speak of such things. I dread the thought of you and calamity meeting under inconspicuous circumstance.”

Will steps forward into Hannibal’s space; he eases down to his knees in front of him, but never breaks eye contact, and it doesn’t hurt to look at Hannibal. It’s like looking into a carnival mirror; they’re the same, but different. “That isn’t a denial."

Hannibal takes a deep breath. He reaches out and brushes his fingers along Will’s cheek. His hand is trembling. “Does the lamb come so freely to the slaughter?

11. “NIGHT OF THE RIPPER” by EvilAdmin. Life finally seems to be on the upswing for 24-year-old Wolf Trap police officer Will Graham when he receives a letter from the FBI Academy informing him that he's been accepted into their program for the upcoming semester. But fate intervenes with a cruel and ironic twist when Will walks into a house and discovers a murder scene, and he recognizes the M.O. as that of the Chesapeake Ripper, a killer who’s been on the FBI’s ten most wanted list for the past two years. But the shock of finding a Ripper murder scene in Wolf Trap is only the beginning as Will soon realizes that the Ripper is still in the house. And so begins a night of terror for Will as he tries to stay one step ahead of one of the most ruthless and cunning killers in the country, while also trying to prove to himself that he's worthy enough to join the ranks of the F.B.I.

A "Hannibalized" version of the book “Intensity” by Dean Koontz.

12. through a glass by amare. He went to sleep in an asylum; he woke up in a reality not his own. Will's either gone down the rabbit hole of his own unstable mind, or he's ended up someplace else entirely. (The non-opaque summary: Will wakes up in a universe where he and Hannibal are dating.)

13. Variation on Persephone by dornfelder (@uniwolfwerecorn). When they speak of Kore, they never talk about how she had, in truth, been Persephone all along.

14. The Thorn of the Rose by AGlassRoseNeverFades (@aglassroseneverfades). "Beware," it is said, "Beware, beware, do not go into the forest at night." Yet go Will must in order to save his best friend Alana after she goes missing in that gloomy, forbidden wood. He finds her in the dungeons of an abandoned castle at the heart of the forest, imprisoned by a fearsome horned beast. A bargain is struck, one life in exchange for another, and Will learns that all is not as it seems in the ruins of Castle Lecter.

A Hannibal retelling of Beauty and the Beast.

15. To Beg by jonnimir (@ethicsbecomeaesthetics). Hannibal blinked, taken aback by the sudden turn of phrase. Then his upper lip curled. “I beg your pardon?”

Will looked phenomenally unconcerned for someone whose tongue Hannibal was idly contemplating serving as an amuse-bouche. If anything he looked satisfied at throwing Hannibal off-balance, a smile playing around his lips. He straightened his back, raised a brow, and said with relish: “Then beg.”

Hannibal finds himself unexpectedly attracted to Will's dominance. Will stumbles upon his submissive streak by accident, and is quick to seize this opportunity.

16. Blood and Feathers and Antlers by TheSilverQueen (@thesilverqueenlady). When Will was a young fawn, all he ever wanted was to grow up as proud and strong as his idol, the Prince of the Forest, Jack. And then one day he wandered off the path and into the strangest pool he'd ever seen. It was red as those sharp roses whose thorns Will had learned the hard way not to eat and smelled like the metal that he'd seen two-legs leave behind. It takes a few drinks to realize that it's blood. When he jumps back in shock, he ends up bumping into the biggest stag he's ever seen, bigger than Will's father, bigger than even the great Prince of the Forest, with antlers as tall as Will himself and feathers as black as night.

"Hello, little fawn," says the Ravenstag, "what have we here?"

17. Proximity by victorine (@victorineb). Hannibal’s hand is halfway to stroking down Will’s spine before he catches himself. He is achingly hard and the source of his arousal is inches from him, blissfully unaware. Slowly, he draws his hand back and lets it slide downwards, towards the swell of his erection, letting out a hiss as he grazes against the silk that is barely containing it.

This is… rude. Inexcusably so. Were he entirely in control, Hannibal would surely retreat into his mind palace and wait until he was less affected.

But…

Hannibal cannot touch Will as he aches to. So he touches himself instead.

18. Hannibal: Pushing Us Into Self-Destruction by IBegToDreamAndDiffer (@ibegto-dreamanddiffer). Clarice Starling needs help with a case, so she pays a visit to Will Graham, who's incarcerated in the Baltimore Sate Hospital with his partner.

19. Pattern Break by ThisBeautifulDrowning. Will knew what had happened. He knew exactly how Abigail's ear had gotten into him, who had shoved it down his throat. He also knew that trying to indicate Hannibal as a killer again was futile. Jack seemed to want to believe him, going by the conversation in the BSHCI's visitor hall, but Jack needed something concrete, evidence. Hannibal had eluded capture for so long, he wasn't going to start leaving fingerprints or hairs at his crime scenes now.No, Will was going to deal with Hannibal Lecter on his own terms. The man deserved to reap what he'd so carefully sowed, didn't he? He deserved to experience what he'd coaxed forth from the bottom of Will's soul, to see the result of his machinations.

After his release from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, Will doesn't return to work for the FBI.

20. Atavism by RubyBakeneko (@rubybakeneko). Will and Hannibal have prolific amounts of sex, but Will refuses to accept tenderness or affection. When Hannibal objects, Will thinks it’s with the aim of controlling him and fostering further dependency. He roleplays as his former self to try and prove his point, steadfastly ignoring his own underlying feelings and motivations. The results are predictably messy.

#hannibal #hannigram #fic rec #you might notice a recurring element in there #maybe i could do a fave writers list

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dracox-serdriel · 7 years ago

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Orion - Chapter Eight: The Three Spinning Sages (The Flash)

Title: Orion [AO3] [LJ] [FF] [Tumblr] Chapter: The Three Spinning Sages Universe: The Flash Pairings: SnowJay (Caitlin Snow/Jay Garrick), SnowHunter (Caitlin Snow/Hunter Zolomon) Word count: 6,700 Spoilers: All episodes through 02x18 Versus Zoom and all comic books that feature Zoom/Hunter Zolomon. Rating: R/M Chapter summary: Zoom handles unexpected circumstances at the facility, and Caitlin is brought in later to deal with the fallout.

Canon-divergent as of 02x18 Versus Zoom. Caitlin Snow and Jay Garrick meet under strange circumstances, but the attraction between them is immediate and the connection, real. Stranded on Earth-2, Caitlin fights for her survival against Zoom, the seemingly unstoppable meta-human who has fallen in love with her.

Set immediately after the events in 02x18 Versus Zoom, Orion includes flashbacks to missing scenes during canon episodes of the season when SnowJay was developing.

Read Orion from the beginning.

Orion Chapter 8: The Three Spinning Sages

Several hours previous... Zoom raced through the wreckage, exhilarated by the destruction and carnage. The bittersweet tang of triumph and the bliss of victory thrummed in his blood. The high was incredible. It was more than intoxicating; it was transcendent. He had felled his enemies, and now he would scatter their ashes to the wind.

He wouldn't stop there. No, he would dismantle everything they'd built, everything they'd ever touched. When he was done, there would be nothing but faded memories of the bad dream that was once the MTU. Its legacy would be the monster under the bed that had no teeth - the boogeyman with no bite - crushed under the heel of Zoom, the master of all metahumans.

"Captives found in the robotics lab!" echoed over the intercom.

Motley Siren's voice grated Hunter, and the unceremonious announcement doubled his distain.

He sounds panicked.

Hunter rarely bothered with Motley or Singsong Siren. Their abilities were parlor tricks compared to Black Siren, whose ruthless will augmented her powers and made her his best lieutenant. But she didn't solely rely on her abilities. Her cunning and wit served her well; indeed, without them, she would've been lost in the shadow of her mother, Void Siren.

Motley wouldn't panic for anybody else.

Hunter smiled beneath his cowl. Special Agent Cameron Chase had captured Void Siren over a year ago. He never admitted it to anyone, but he had felt her loss acutely. She had been an expert interrogator long before her metahuman gene was activated, and her loyalty never wavered. It would be good to have her back.

Assuming she's alive and the MTU hasn't tortured her into insanity.

No, the MTU couldn't break the will of someone like Void Siren. She'd endure the worst pain imaginable and remain alive and sane to spite her captors. In that way, they were something of kindred spirits. His time in the asylum at the mercy of so-called doctors and those nights at the orphanage when he couldn't sleep for the memory of his mother's face... and always, thoughts about ending his suffering haunted him.

No, they hunted him like a pack of wolves.

It always started with the question, Will I ever see her again?

And somewhere in the back of his mind, the answer lurked: You will... when you die.

Not far behind it were thoughts like, You could see her right now, if only you were brave enough.

From there, he was dragged down into a spiral of despair and agony, and he survived over and over again, for no other reason than to spite his father.

Zoom stumbled to a stop, his heart beating too hard and too fast. It had been a very long time since he'd thought about those days, and longer still since he remembered the experience. It was like reliving it all over again.

He didn't have time for this.

"Anyone not on perimeter or capture duty - to the robotics lab!" Zoom ordered over the intercom. "Now!"

He followed Motley's tracer signal to the room in question, which was at the very heart of the building. This lab was marked for authorized personnel only, so anyone present likely had valuable information. He rendered all MTU employees he encountered unconscious.

For now.

There were hundreds - maybe thousands - of carbyne containment units.

He grimaced. He could pass through carbyne without issue, but he had yet to discover a means of phasing or tunneling someone else through the material. At the Roost, the walls retreated three feet into the ceiling above, giving him more than enough room to shove a prisoner inside or drag one out.

Whatever the means, it was likely that each unit here had a unique code or biometric lock.

That would take days.

Or it would've taken days, had Zoom not come with the largest metahuman army at his back. Black Siren couldn't shatter carbyne on her own, but she could with Motley and Singsong Siren. Deathbolt and Ordnance would no doubt try to blast their way through, while Berserker, Colt, and Scrap would beat at the carbyne until it splintered.

As he combed through the countless minions at his beck and call, one in particular rose to the top of the list.

"Pyranis," he ordered over the intercom. "Report to the robotics lab immediately."

Then he ran.

Pyranis played the part of mad scientist to conceal his true nature. He claimed to have transformed into an elemental by studying alchemy, but Hunter knew that, however he had acquired his abilities, it was not his own doing. But the man was a brilliant engineer, and he could easily coordinate the destruction of countless impenetrable cells.

So could Caitlin.

He couldn't help his smile, even though she did ruin a perfectly good containment unit.

You knew she could, and you didn't stop her. You didn't even try.

The tone was accusatory, but there was no need. His insides jolted of their own accord as he remembered what transpired immediately after Caitlin had freed Killer Frost. She had almost died. If he hadn't gotten to her in time...

And now you're going to risk her life again some stupid mind game.

No. He hadn't wanted her to come. She had insisted - no, demanded - to join this mission, to be treated like a partner.

So instead of keeping her safe, you're going to risk losing her again.

His blue lightning became thin as vapor. His legs felt like lead, but he kept his speed up. If he ran fast enough, he could burn his anxiety up.

You can't run from this. You aren't bringing her here because it's what she wants. You're doing it to manipulate her!

He couldn't lose her again. It was too risky. He would order Blink to bring patients to the Comet. He'd keep Caitlin busy until the facility was gutted and call it a regrettable change in plans. She'd be angry with him, but she'd be safe. And she would never refuse to save someone's life.

Except you. She wouldn't save you. Not after everything you've done.

His feet began to fail him. He couldn't run, but he also couldn't let anyone see him like this, so he raced up the wall beyond the suspended ceiling, coming to rest on a ledge that barely supported him. He was panting for breath, his mind reeling with doubt and fear.

You promised to keep her safe.

Hunter had promised to protect her, but as long as she saw him as an enemy, she'd never truly be safe. There would always be that tiny voice of defiance in her head driving her away from him, telling her not to trust him, to fear him, to hate him. That's why she freed Killer Frost, despite her better judgment. That's why she nearly died in his arms.

She had to believe in him and The Cause. He needed her to come to him and only him for help and protection.

Need or want?

He screamed, and his modulated voice amplified into a roar as the sound drove away his wretched doubts. His forces had overtaken an enemy fortress, and he was fretting Caitlin's safety?

Hunter had planned everything around protecting her. He even arranged for a handful of useless MTU employees to survive long enough to enter her care. She would save them and demand their freedom, and he would gladly grant it. That would prove that Caitlin belonged with The Cause.

You're manipulating her.

The thought was like a whisper, the last quiver of his doubts fading like a dream. Yes, on some level, he was manipulating her, but it was for her own good. When he told her he would lock her in a cell to keep her safe, he meant it. Distorting a few facts was far less painful for both of them.

He was doing this to save her.

Hunter took a few seconds to empty his mind, tempting any lingering uncertainty to rise to the surface, but there was none. Doubts were only able to take root because he remembered that slice of his childhood, reliving those horrible nights for just a few seconds. Those days were long behind him now and that was where they would say.

Revitalized, he began to run again. He circled the lab a few times before speeding out to check the perimeter, which Blacksmith had under control.

He rushed to Fort Green. Hazard, Haunt, and Totem had put the entire campus into lockdown by leveraging a hacker who called himself the Calculator.

It had all been part of his strategy. Rather than attempting a two-pronged assault, he ordered a subtler attack built upon Hazard's penchant for spreading bad luck and Haunt's ability to possess inanimate objects. He didn't know or care about the specifics, but they had compromised something that triggered a kind of panic mode. Then the Calculator exploited a loophole to keep the entire army base in perpetual lockdown.

Hunter considered taking all his metas and leaving the hacker to fen for himself, but tactically, it was a stupid risk to leave Fort Green unguarded. Hazard and Haunt would, at the very least, raise the alarm should the fort break free and marshal a strike force. He couldn't trust an outsider like the Calculator for that. No human would risk his life for metahumans.

His spymaster, however, was needed elsewhere. Without a word, he zoomed her from her post, bringing her to the battered ruin of the MTU.

"Totem," he said in his modulated Zoom voice. "Establish a medical zone for the doctors."

"Very well," she replied stiffly.

Sensing her unspoken words, he said, "Speak."

"There is such a thing as too much truth," she replied.

He loathed cryptic messages, but Totem had the unfortunate habit of imparting genuine warnings when he least wanted to hear them. She was also one of the only people who spent any real time with Caitlin, so he considered her words carefully.

"I'll keep that in mind," he replied, emphasizing the edge in his voice.

He savored the way her fierce veneer subtly trembled at the faintest hint of a threat from him. That kind of control calmed his nerves and steadied him. He thrived on it.

She could fulfill her duties without further direction, so he raced back to the robotics lab only to find that Pyranis had not yet arrived.

Of course, for non-speedsters, it had only been about ten minutes since he gave his order to Pyranis, but his patience was too thin to be coddled by rationality. So he ran through the facility until he found Pyranis limping through the halls. Zoom scooped him up and zipped him back to the lab, dropping him on his feet. Pyranis's legs buckled, forcing him to his knees.

It was a good look for the megalomaniac, bowed in agony before his true ruler, but Hunter didn't have time to indulge the passing impulse. It was clear Chase had wounded Pyranis badly enough to cause delayed healing, which was particularly astounding for a man who was - by his own pronouncements - made of pure fire.

"I came as fast as I could," Pyranis said. "That woman... did something to me."

"I have no need for your legs," Zoom said harshly. "Bring down these cells, Pyranis, if you ever want to leave here again."

Pyranis looked at him with something akin to awe, as if he was expecting an immediate beheading and instead received a blessing. He put one foot under himself and forced himself to stand, and though he vocalized nothing, the trembling of his features made it clear that the man was in complete agony.

"I will destroy every last one of them," he vowed.

Zoom flashed his blue lightning before vanishing again, this time to examine the state of the room. Black Siren had found her mother and recruited Berserker to help her annihilate the carbyne separating them. She funneled her voice into a tiny pinpoint that was so powerful it drew sparks as it landed, and Berserker pummeled the weakened material. Effective, perhaps, but unnecessarily slow...

They weren't the only ones. Countless minions were likewise attempting to free one captive or another, but none had the power or the wit to match the strength of carbyne. He felt a surge of pride as he recalled how swiftly Caitlin managed the same feat that so many of his minions failed at now.

But that satisfaction gave way to something else, something heavy and jarring. He hadn't seen Caitlin the past three days, and they hadn't spoken since their fight almost a week ago. He missed the sound of her voice and the sleepy look on her face over breakfast. He longed for her company.

Hunter refocused his energies on his original plan. He darted through the facility and transported the metas still making their way to the robotics lab. He continued for what felt like hours, though it was hardly twenty minutes by any watch or clock. He only stopped when the environment shifted enough to catch his attention.

The one true drawback of moving at super-sonic speeds was that sound was distorted. It was like a bad time lag on a video chat, his brain taking just a few moments longer to piece together what his ears heard.

So it took him far too long to realize that alarms were blaring.

Then the lab was plunged into true darkness as the emergency lighting cut out.

His attention garnered, he flew around the lab to assess the situation, but sirens emanated from every speaker as the lights flickered. There was no way to hone in on the source of the disturbance.

Then he heard the unmistakable tone of Motley Siren's deathblow.

He circled the room, searching for the faintest hint of Motley's garish costume. Hunter growled in frustration when the darkness concealed his quarry and forced him to weave through the maze-like lab. Even a millisecond of delay was unacceptable, especially when the prisoners began to thrash against their cells, every moment extended in slow motion snapshots. It was as if hew as moving through a never-ending sequence of grotesque statues, each one wearing the visage of terror, misery, or anguish.

Finally, he caught sight of a jester's cap to his left, so he changed course. What he discovered was... disappointing.

Three MTU employees - lab workers, from the looks of them - were lying dead at Motley's feet. Lullaby was next to him, frantically pounding on a keyboard and cursing like a sailor.

Knowing the Sirens as he did, he could only imagine the events as they unfolded. Perhaps Lullaby had enthralled an employee with a high clearance level to unlock the cells, or maybe Motley had some leverage on one of them. Whatever the scenario, things had gone south, probably when one of the other employees intervened.

Lullaby must've done something right, though, because as Zoom closed in on them, the lights were restored. But that only highlighted how bad the situation had become.

Every screen read TERMINATION SEQUENCE, and Hunter didn't need to see any more to put two and two together.

"Break open these cells!" Zoom ordered, his voice booming so loudly that he didn't need the intercom. "All of them! Now!"

Chaos erupted, and cacophony followed as every metahuman reinvested in their assault on carbyne tenfold. He raced the closest cluster unmanned cells. He drew from deep within, accessing every iota of his power, and he unleashed it in a fury of fists and lightning.

At first, his energy did little more than rattle the walls, but then his speed kicked up to a level he hadn't known existed. The vibrations from his assault harmonized with the friction and the sparks. There was no sign of the carbyne buckling, nothing to indicate anything had changed, yet he perceived the newfound fragility. Instinctively, he honed in on the weakest point, and the lightest touch of his pinky rippled the surface, which then split open like a pistachio.

Hunter felt rejuvenated and galvanized, so he proceeded to the next containment unit, and the next, and the next. Each life snatched from the jaws of death gave him another rushed that spurred him forward.

He was unaware of Pyranis's progress across the lab, not to mention the burst of success from Black Siren's quadrant. The only things holding his attention were the captives thrashing and gasping for breath. They were running out of time.

He was so wrapped up in the thrill that he lost track of his position, first carelessly drifting toward his minions, then crossing their paths. Even when he realized his misstep, he continued without faltering. He had only started apart from them on the off chance that he couldn't shatter the carbyne. But no one could witness him fail if there was no chance of it occurring. So why not let them see him, their all-powerful leader, free their captured brethren.

That was how he ended up surrounded by an audience as the screens flashed TERMINATION COMPLETE. To him, it was redundant commentary, for unnatural stillness had crept in around him as the remaining captives collapsed. There was a corresponding frenzy to match as his minions mounted a final, desperate rally.

In super-speed, everything unfolded so slowly that it felt tedious and wasteful, inspiring nothing but restlessness. This time, however, he experienced something very different and deeply unpleasant. It was accompanied by a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach that reminded him of that terrible moment he had seen Caitlin crumpled and frozen on the ground.

Dread. He was feeling dread.

As soon as he recognized it, he dismissed it outright. Why should he care if any of these pathetic people died? He only bothered to save these gnats to fuel The Cause, to show metahumans where their loyalties must lie if they wanted to survive. Their lives meant nothing to him beyond that. What right did these specs have to elicit anything remotely similar to what he'd felt with Caitlin in jeopardy?

Furious at himself, he redirected his rage toward the nearest occupied cell, pummeling the unforgiving surface haphazardly, unable to control his fuming wrath or coordinate an affective assault.

"Please, stop!" someone said.

It was the woman in the cell he was attacking. She had long brown hair and warm, earnest eyes of the same hue, marred by a bloodshot crimson. She was pale but radiant, and there was a genuine kindness to her despite being on death's doorstep.

"Let it be over," she pleaded, repeating it over and over again like a mantra, occasionally punctuated with, "Please, don't... just don't."

Her voice faded, then cracked, and then fell silent. At some point - the exact moment escaped him - he stopped. Not just pounding against the carbyne, but fully and completely stopped. He stood before the woman resigned to her fate, despite the visible crack that continued to spread across her confinement's wall.

His blue lightning flashed erratically as he watched her last tumultuous breath leave her lungs, and with it, the light in her eyes. Just like he'd seen all those years ago when he watched his own mother die.

On some level, he was aware that countless prisoners had likewise breathed their last, but his thoughts were consumed by the last moments of the women before him. The weight of absolute defeat crushed the thrill of his previous triumph to dust. Helplessness and anguish followed, and that familiar pain gave him an unanticipated surge of power.

His rage bubbled up, demanding him to lash out at those responsible for leaving this woman crumpled on the floor, her death a spectacle in a voyeuristic cage, and her final expression equal parts horror and relief as her eyes reflected people she could no longer see.

But those monsters were already dead, and any still living were scurrying away in fear, broken and bleeding. What revenge was left to exact?

The very least he could was honor her request and respect her remains. She didn't deserve to be left like this. So he took a nearby lab coat and vibrated through the carbyne. In a single heartbeat, he closed her eyes and covered her body, leaving as quickly as he had arrived.

Then he ran as hard as he could, channeling his energy into the exhilaration of speed, burning away the acute agony of loss. He wasn't a helpless child, not anymore. He was the fastest man alive, the most feared man in three universes, and there was nothing and nobody powerful enough to challenge him, let alone harm him.

Hunter felt fear and doubt melt away as his fury transmuted into raw speed, pushing him into the apex of his power. He could sense every part of the facility, every minute shift in temperature, and every molecule of the world around him.

Then the faintest tremor roused his suspicion. He pondered the remote possibility that Geomancer had survived his long captivity and risen with a vengeance, but dispensed with the idea when he realized that he had felt quivering like this before. And it wasn't a quake. No, this was a demure shiver heralding an explosion.

It was an unsettling realization, as he hadn't authorized anything of this magnitude. Certainly not while his metas were inside the facility.

He moved so swiftly that he rounded the countless ignition points between their first hints of spark and the glowing embers that threatened to engulf the world in roaring flames. He zipped unsuspecting minions (and their captives) out of what he calculated as the blast zone, piecing events together as he went, his mind working in overdrive.

Ordnance, ever the good soldier, had done exactly as ordered and strategically set charges to cave in the catacombs to trap any members of the MTU who managed to retreat that far. That way they could ensure capture while securing the facility above, allowing his minions to scoop up the prisoners at their leisure.

Unfortunately, Typhoon had conjured a lighting storm so powerful that it grew out of his control, precipitating a series of events that triggered Ordnance's explosives. Hunter considered leaving Typhoon to the fiery maelstrom of his own making as punishment for his incompetence, but the only tribulation the weather manipulator endured was being the last whisked out of danger. He wasn't even singed.

Hunter hadn't spared anyone from the deafening blast nor the tumultuous shockwave that followed as fire rose up and up and up till the flames reached out to the stars of the night sky.

There was a twinge of pain in his left arm; a quaint but palpable indicator that his calculations weren't as precise as he assumed them to be.

Still, he had predicted the size and scope of the destruction quite accurately, given the surprise ignition. He hadn't anticipated the fire burning so hot nor rising so high, leaving him with a mess of complications, all of which had to be handled before he could allow Caitlin anywhere near this place.

He smiled. He was up against his favorite opponent, the clock. He'd made a habit of racing time and winning.

Several weeks ago on Earth-1... Jay gazed up at the ceiling, his eyes unfocused and unblinking. He should've been sleeping, but he couldn't will himself to relax. Just a few hours ago (though it felt like days), Barry had announced his plan to rescue Jessie by traveling to Earth-2 with Harry and Cisco.

He had insisted that he join them, but Barry had refused. Jay Garrick had too much celebrity and too popular a face to return to Earth-2 without drawing attention.

He turned his head to see Caitlin's beautiful, slumbering face. If he were the man he pretended to be, he would be fuming over being left behind, no matter how sound and rational the reason. But he wasn't. All this talk about Earth-2 had dredged up everything he had been willfully avoiding for months, everything he told himself there was no point on dwelling on it until the time came.

Caitlin's life was here, on Earth-1, and his life - his real life - was on Earth-2. If all went according to plan, the two universes would soon be sealed from one another with no way to pass between them.

And that left him with a choice to make and not a lot of time to decide one way or the other.

He couldn't help but stare at Caitlin, wondering after the possibilities of a life on Earth-1.

Now... Caitlin wasn't sure how long she stood and watched the blue lightning streak to and from the devastated stronghold. Everything felt surreal, down to the light breeze caressing her skin: the throng of people surrounding her, the height of the cliff, the whirl of activity in her periphery. She caught herself holding her breath, her body unnaturally tense. Her only saving grace was the young boy in her arms.

Then the lightning vanished, and she backed away, allowing the crowd to swallow them both as she caught her breath.

It was soothing to pretend that she could lose herself in a mob with no responsibility except the boy she promised to protect, even if only for a little while. So she indulged herself with the absurd idea that she could walk away from all this, leave it behind without a second glance.

But you can't.

That was a truth she refused to entertain.

Even if Zoom hadn't abducted you, you can't walk away.

Yes, she could. She wasn't supposed to be here, submerged in horrors and surrounded by beaten and bleeding people with super-powers. She wasn't like Cisco or Barry or even Killer Frost. She was only human. If she didn't get away from all this, she'd die.

And what would happen to all of them?

She bit her lip. She looked around her and saw Multiplex - one of him, anyway - less than an arm's length away, carrying somebody who had collapsed. There were people spattered with oil and blood and others with poorly bandaged wounds and barely-set broken bones. And all around her, dozens of children lumbered through the masses, all of them afraid but searching.

What would happen to all of them without you?

A shuttering rumble and thunderous explosion yanked her from her thoughts. Her eyes went to the edge of the cliff, which thankfully hadn't lost any bystanders, and the rising smoke plume made it clear that the battle inside the facility had come to a very violent end.

"Bellatrix," Blink said in her ear. "You're needed elsewhere."

Caitlin hadn't seen her approach, so the unexpected greeting made her start in surprise.

"Leave the boy," Blink continued.

"He stays with me," Caitlin said.

"All children go to the Comet," Blink explained. "He'll be safe there."

"He stays with me," she repeated vehemently.

Part of her knew that Blink was right. RJ shouldn't be here, in the middle of a warzone, and sending him ahead to the Comet was the most sensible thing to do. But her relentless sensibility had worn straight through her, rendering its normally persuasive arguments moot. She didn't care if she was being paranoid or irrational. She had promised Killer Frost that she'd keep him safe, and to do that, she needed to keep him close.

Blink must've gotten impatient, because the next thing she knew, the world dissolved around her, and when it came together again, they were standing in a tiny clearing enclosed by trees. The quietness of the area felt suffocating, like she had been deafened during the abrupt teleportation.

"I'll take him straight to the Comet," Blink said, reaching out for RJ.

Caitlin jerked away, pulling herself and RJ out of Blink's reach.

"He's not going anywhere without me," she said, her voice sharp and commanding. "Do you understand?"

"Bellatrix," someone else said.

The speaker was Totem, who had apparently been waiting for their arrival.

Blink began, "I know you said to come alone, but - "

"I understand," Totem interrupted. "Thank you, Blink. I'll take it from here."

The teleporter vanished without another word.

"There is a patient in the next clearing," Totem said. "I can watch over the boy, if you will allow it."

Caitlin considered her options. Totem wouldn't call on her without reason, and whoever the patient was must be in dire condition, otherwise Blink could've moved transported them back to the Comet for treatment. RJ was young, but not so young that she could assume he would forget a traumatic experience like witnessing in-the-field medical care for someone critically wounded. RJ certainly didn't need anymore trauma in his life.

So Caitlin chose her words carefully and said, "So long as I am alive, he doesn't leave here without me."

"You have my word, Bellatrix."

She turned to RJ and said, "This is Totem. She's a... a friend. And she's going to watch you while I help... another friend. It'll only be for a little while, I promise. Then I'll be right back, RJ."

She could see fear and concern flicker over the boy's face, and for a moment, she considered taking him with her.

But then he nodded his head, his sad eyes never looking away, and mumbled something that sounded very much like, "Okay mommy."

Had she heard those words from his mouth, she never could've left him behind, not for a patient, not for any reason on this earth. So she pretended that he had said origami, and she handed him to Totem, who set him on her hip and pointed the way to the next clearing before turning her full attention to RJ.

Caitlin walked quickly, weaving through the trees, until they opened to another clearing. Despite being in a deeply wooded area, there was a metal tray table with a sterilization unit and a large surgical table.

And on that table sat Hunter, his cowl discarded and his suit in disarray, only partially removed to reveal his left side from shoulder to hip, which was covered in a thick, black substance.

She couldn't have been more than five yards from him, yet he was too preoccupied to notice, his shoulders and head slumped and his breathing, ragged. He'd never let his guard down like this, not willingly.

He must've been in excruciating pain.

Her stomach dropped and her mouth went dry as concern flooded her, drowning her caution and trepidation and spurring her forward.

"What happened, Hunter?" she asked, her professionalism hindered slightly by how foreign his name was to her.

Jay is Hunter, and Hunter is Zoom.

He looked up at her, and his face lit up as he said, "Caitlin."

The smile had barely reached his lips when an abrupt wince interrupted it. His breathing became shallow for a few seconds as he struggled to quell his pain.

Compelled to action, Caitlin took a long cotton swab from the supplied medical tray and collected a sample of from his chest. The black substance was viscous with a strong scent of iron. It was his blood, congealed and darkened in some kind of chemical reaction. She suspected that whatever caused it was somehow responsible for compromising his meta-healing.

Her mind reeled with possibilities, none of which seemed even remotely viable. Zoom could dodge, outrun, and deflect anything thrown at him. She opened her mouth to ask again what had happened, but she stopped when she saw that he wasn't in any state to answer questions. His eyes were closed; his breathing, labored; and his fists, clenched. It looked like he was channeling all his energy into staying upright.

"Lie down," she said. When he didn't respond, she raised her voice and repeated, "Hunter, I need you to lie down."

"I'm fine," he grunted.

She put one hand on his uninjured shoulder, and his breath caught as he looked up at her, surprised. For some reason, she was shocked by how blue his eyes were.

"You aren't fine," she said firmly. "Lie down, take a deep breath, and tell me what happened."

His eyes went wide for a few moments, his face flickering between pain and anger with the slightest hint of confusion. But then he nodded his head, yes, and let her guide him so he was lying supine on the table.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth in discomfort, so instead of pressing him for answers, she went ahead and sought them for herself. The only way to assess his injuries was to examine his wounds. She began to wipe his skin clean with distilled water and what she hoped were sterile towels.

She was surprised to discover that his chest was clear. When she moved on to his shoulder, he hissed in pain, and his right hand shot up and grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"Hunter," she said as calmly as possible. "Let me go."

He pulled his hand away, apology written all over his face, but she didn't want to hear it. No, she couldn't hear it... not from him, not here, not now.

"What happened?" she repeated, cutting his apology off before he could begin.

"Not sure," he replied. "Began to hurt after the explosion... assumed it was debris. It seemed fine... didn't really start to hurt until hours later. I tried to remove whatever it was, but I couldn't phase... and my speed, I've been losing speed."

"But I watched you... you were running a few minutes ago," she said.

"No choice," he responded. "Blink lost one of her familiars. There was no one else to get them out."

For some reason, his words were like a one-two punch to the gut. Hunter's situation was dire, and the smallest part of her was screaming for her to walk away and leave him to whatever fate befell him. With any luck, Zoom would die, and all she had to do was stall... waste time with empty promises, just like the ones he had whispered to her as she was falling asleep, back when she thought she was falling in love with a good man named Jay Garrick.

The idea crept up on her, gradually evolving into an overwhelming temptation with claws that threatened to tear her apart. It wouldn't just be easy to let him suffer and die; it would feel good, too.

But what he had just said... the Hunter who strolled in and stole Barry's speed would've happily left people behind to die, especially when it came to saving himself. Yet the man before her now had risked limb - if not his life - to pull people from danger.

No, he was the same villain as he had always been. He had successfully shown her that this universe was filled with others just like him, possibly even worse than him, but that didn't make him a hero.

What if this is some kind of test?

She couldn't put it past Hunter to set up some kind of trial to see if she would be loyal to him. Or maybe he was looking for some excuse to punish her, to lock her in a windowless cell and call it her fault.

"Hold still," she said.

She waved her palm over his left shoulder, chest, and arm, scanning for any foreign bodies. When the image loaded, she ran the scan again, certain the first was faulty. But the second only confirmed what she had seen.

His subclavian artery was compromised by some kind of mass but not debris. If anything, it was like a tumor encroaching on the blood vessel, obstructing flow and likely causing poor healing and claudication. There were other similar blockages along the lateral thoracic, subscapular, and superior thoracic arteries.

She hesitated as her mind drew a blank. She'd never seen anything like this before, and she had no idea how to extract them without rupturing the compromised blood vessels.

"That bad?" he asked, his words somehow playful despite the grimace he wore.

"Are you sure this was from an explosion?" she asked. "Do you remember what specifically hit you or the actual moment of impact?"

"No, no... not then," he replied. "Before... before that, I took a few bullets."

"Someone shot you?" she repeated in disbelief. "How?"

"Friction-seeking ammunition," he grunted in reply. "Another gift from the R-and-D branch of the MTU - "

"Friction-seeking?" she asked, interrupting him. "And they actually hit you?"

"A speed-dampener was involved," he answered defensively. "It was nothing - a few pinpricks to the shoulder."

"Those pinpricks are now obstruction circulation," she replied. "And I think the more you use your speed, the worse they get."

"Can you get... get them out?" he asked.

"If I tried to cut them out here, you'd bleed to death," she explained. "And I don't know if I can cut them out. I won't know until..."

She couldn't bring herself to complete her thought.

"Until you cut into me," he said when he realized she wasn't going to continue. "Well... better get started."

"I - no," she stumbled.

"I can't trust anyone else," he said. "Think of it as taking your pound of flesh."

She could tell he was trying to make joke, but there was nothing funny about it.

"I don't do that," she snapped.

"Caitlin - "

"No," she cut him off. "You don't understand. Your metabolism is faster than Bar - than any other speedster. There's nothing I can give you to put you under or to help with the pain. You would need to lie perfectly still as I surgically remove all four obstructions, and even if you could manage that, chances are you'd still bleed to death before I finished."

"You almost sound worried about me," Hunter said, flashing his smug, toothy smile.

She wanted to shout at him, to loose all her frustrations on the man responsible for them. How could he make her love him, only to break her heart by revealing his true, demonic nature? How could he draw her heart and soul into this conflict then so flippantly disregard her concerns?

"Caitlin," he said, his voice soft and pleading. "You've seen what's happening here. What the MTU does. You see what they are. If you still believe I'm the worst possible thing in this universe, then all you have to do is walk away. I wouldn't blame you."

Jay is Hunter, and Hunter is Zoom.

But then she remembered Blink Junior, the young boy in her care who had both of his eyes removed for an experiment, and she recalled the countless tiny cells with adjacent screens that read TERMINATION COMPLETE. The memory of each vacant face she had seen, including her own mother's (or, near-enough) surfaced and refused to abate.

Hunter wasn't a hero, but after what she'd seen in the last week, she was ready to admit that he wasn't the worst thing in this universe.

In fact, there was part of her, deep down, that knew that he wasn't even close.

"We'll need straps to hold you down," she said.

"I'll keep still," he replied quietly.

"Hunter - "

"No straps!" he snapped, interrupting her.

From the contortion of his face, the burst of energy that animated his response cost him dearly. But what struck her more was the fact that fear was palpable in his voice. For some reason, he was more afraid of a few straps than the pain of an impromptu surgery and the very real possibility of bleeding out.

The asylum.

She didn't have time to contemplate thoughts like that. Or, more correctly, Hunter didn't have time.

"All right," she said. "I'm going to start with the smallest one. It's deep, near the lateral thoracic artery, but it's also the least likely - "

"Just do it," he said, his interruption almost lost to the weakness of his voice. "Don't be afraid, and don't stop till they're all out."

He took a deep breath and added, "Please."

"Okay," she replied. "Okay."

Chapter notes: The title of this chapter is derived from a combination several traditional names for Orion's Belt: the South African Drie Susters (Three Sisters), the Lithuanian Trys seselės verpėjo (Three Spinning Sisters), the Latin American/Spanish Las tres Marías (The Three Marys), and countless traditions (English, Germanic, Philippine, Puerto Rican, Slavic, South African to name a few) that use variations of The Three Magi/The Three Kings/The Three Wise Men.

For next or previous chapters, go to the main Orion page.

#flash fic #flash ff #caitlin snow #jay garrick #hunter zolomon #zoom #snowjay #snowhunter #orion #orion the hunter #it was written in the stars #dark fina #caitlin x jay #caitlin x hunter #caitlin x zoom #caitlin snow x jay garrick #caitlin snow x hunter zolomon #caitlin snow x zoom

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thorias · 8 years ago

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Random thoughts watching Riverdale episode 6

First thing we see is Betty and Polly as kids. There goes the Polly-is-Betty’s-split-personality theory, I guess. It was a long shot anyway.

Alice is the first character to draw attention to how bizarre Jughead’s name is. Nice try, Alice, but I still hate you.

Delivering on all the build up Polly has had is going to be tough. I’m thinking about what Polly could be like and imagining everything from Norma Bates to Patrick Bateman.

I think a big reason why the story about Archie and his music doesn’t feel terribly compelling is because it’s too reminiscent of the comics, whereas everything and everyone else has been so heavily reimagined. We’ve got this Polly story and how it all connects to the murder mystery and it’s pretty fascinating stuff, but then we cut over to Archie having stage fright in a variety show, and it’s not bad, but I just want them to go back to the murder mystery because this part seems so unimportant by comparison. As much as I disliked the Grundy plot, it was the only thing Archie had that was as twisted as the other big plots on the show. Without it, he’s rather boring right now.

Archie hallucinating people wearing wolf masks gets my attention, but Betty’s already got the ‘mentally unbalanced’ storyline wired and he’s got a long way to go to catch up to her.

Reggie heckles Archie after Archie let him have the captain’s job on the football team last week. Because Reggie is a dick.

Archie asking Val to sing with him at the show seems like a reasonable request and her excuse doesn’t really hold water. She “can’t step out on the Pussycats?” He’s not asking you too, sweety. If your band is already performing at the show, fine. Is there any reason you can’t do both? I wouldn’t put it passed Josie to try to put a stop to that, but Josie seemed cool with Archie after he helped them with that song, so where’s the issue here?

Polly’s “group home” sounds less like a hospital for the mentally ill and more like a puritanical reformed school. Yeah, that seems like a place Alice Cooper would send her daughter to.

Veronica ‘ex machina’ Lodge is a thing now. I was trying to come up with a nickname for her, so how nice of her to do the work for me.

Thirty seconds into a Pussycats practice session and it seems that Josie is huge a control freak. Weird that Josie is the one credited as a regular cast member, yet Val is the one emerging as the more likable character and has had more screen time at this point too.

Josie says Val can sing with Pussycats or Archie, but not both. Apparently, Archie helping the band with that song meant nothing to her. First Reggie and now Josie -- the short term memory loss seems to be spreading. I’m dangerously close to feeling bad for Archie here.

The look on Josie’s face has me cheering Val for calling her bluff and walking out.

Veronica stumbling upon her mom making out with Archie’s dad has me torn. On the one hand, it’s so awkward, I can’t look away. On the other, the kid in me who read the comics is fashioning a crude crucifix and waving it around in utter horror that likely mirrors Veronica’s.

Archie is surprisingly cool with his dad potentially dating Hermione. Yeah, Archie is suddenly the well-adjusted one. How did that happen?

Wait a minute. Val writes the Pussycats’ songs? Then maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to practically kick her out of the band, Josie! Dumbass.

So Josie was stressing because her big shot musician dad is taking time out of his busy schedule to come visit and see the show, but if it sucks, her mom will get blamed for it? FFS, that’s ANOTHER kid with insane parents! I’m starting to think the luckiest ones on this show might be the kids being brought up by only one adult. Archie, Veronica and Kevin have no idea how fortunate they are.

Josie certainly makes a lot more sense now that I’ve seen her with her mom. It’s crazy how so many of the problems the kids on this show have can be directly blamed on the people raising them.

“What about dad?” Veronica asks her mom, as if her dad being in prison and causing his wife to become a social pariah didn’t likely cause the end of their marriage already. Ronnie didn’t really think they were going to work things out, did she?

Archie is quick to swap Veronica out for Val as his singing partner, which is kind of a dick move. But then Veronica fires back by being a jerk about his dad and her mom kissing. Archie then stumbles onto the topic of his parents being separated and Hiram’s biggest romantic concern these days being to make sure he doesn’t drop the soap in the shower. So I guess the upshot of this scene is that they’re both being assholes and Val is the only nice one simply because she was the only person smart enough to keep her mouth shut.

��Garden of Deliverance?” Yeah, that doesn’t conjure up any horror imagery at all. Are we adding religious thriller tropes to the mix now?

At least Alice didn’t force an abortion on Polly, but sending your child to mental institution/religious-themed prison seems pretty damn cruel. Then again, having seen what lunatics Cheryl’s parents are, maybe Alice had the right idea by taking steps to make sure they don’t find out that Polly is carrying Jason’s progeny. At this point, I wouldn’t put it passed Mrs. Blossom to try to cut Junior out of Polly’s belly with a spork.

I might believe that Jason only broke up with Polly because his parents forced him too, but the idilic future Polly said they had in store for them sounds downright psychotic. I knew people back in high school who became parents at this age and... let’s just say that it working out as perfectly as Polly describes is pretty freaking unlikely.

Polly not being taken away until July 4th feels a bit awkward. I was under the impression that she’d been gone longer than that. But her being dragged into a van against her will isn’t exactly helping with the allusions to Polly basically being a prisoner here.

In the blink of an eye, Polly turns the crazy up to eleven and it’s a little disturbing. Yeah, she definitely needs to be in a hospital, but I’m not entirely sure that’s what this place is.

First Josie gets pissed at Val for singing (god forbid someone in a band try to do that) and now she’s pissed at Veronica for NOT signing? This girl has no idea what she wants.

Veronica is upset that she hasn’t seen her dad in three months. Man, that really makes you think. So many of the parents on this show are out of their damn minds, but they still get to walk around free, so what exactly did Hiram do that was bad enough to land him in prison? Cannibalism? Murder/suicide cult? I’m guessing it was a wee bit more extreme than embezzlement or whatever the excuse they gave us in the pilot was.

Archie and Val actually sound good together. See, Archie? This is what a healthy relationship with a female looks like.

Alice was definitely being cruel by not telling Polly that Jason was dead, but considering how quickly Polly’s mental stability just shattered like stale potato chips, keeping her in the dark may have been the lesser of two evils.

Fred, Hermione, Archie, Josie, Josie’s control freak mom and her arrogant asshole dad are all having dinner and the tension is thick enough to kill a horse. Should they just call for an ambulance now or wait for someone to draw blood first?

Betty straight up asks her dad if he killed Jason. I’m surprised they’re playing that card this early, but I guess red herrings aren’t meant to last long.

Oh shit! Don’t use the “C” word around Betty! Even at the best of times, she’s one bad day away from breaking out that Darth Betty wig and going to town on this whole cast with a meat cleaver. Why tempt fate?

I wouldn’t put it passed Josie’s parents to not give Archie’s dad the contract simply out of spite for his son luring Val away from Josie’s band. That’s not the reason they give him, but that’s probably what it’s really about. At any rate, those two are world class pricks for coming to dinner with him and letting him go through that whole presentation just to tell him that the contract was already given to someone else.

Hermione is trying to get Fred the contract, which is self-serving, but also a really nice thing to do considering the way Hiram wanted to go was undoubtedly a lot shadier, but Veronica refuses to put her signature on the thing because she doesn’t like her mom dating someone. This is one of those rare occasions in Riverdale when the parent is actually more likable than the kid. I get that Veronica is upset about this, but seeing as her dad has most likely spent the last several months behind bars being someone’s bitch, maybe she should give her mom a break.

Archie tells Val she should perform with the Pussycats. I think he’s trying to do the right thing here, but doesn’t this mean that he just dicked with Veronica a second time since she just replaced Val in the Pussycats and Val coming back will make her a fifth wheel?

“They’re parents. They’re all crazy.” On this show? Yeah. Truer words have never been spoken in Riverdale.

JUGHEAD KISSES BETTY?!?! WTF IS GOING ON?!?! THE ONLY WAY THIS HAPPENS IS IF HE’S IMAGINING A HAMBURGER WHERE HER FACE SHOULD BE!! FUCK THIS!! THESE WRITERS KNOW NOTHING!!

The Pussycats sing a cover of some disco song at the variety show. Wasn’t them not doing other people’s songs a big thing for them? I’m pretty sure there was a line in the pilot about that.

Poor Veronica looks like she feels really out of place onstage with the Pussycats and I feel bad for her. Sure, she’s been a jerk at times in this episode, but she’s been jerked around by other people just as much.

The Pussycats give a great performance which Josie’s musical snob dad leaves in the middle of. Because Josie’s dad is a jackass.

Archie and Veronica apologizing to each other was sweet. Something I’m noticing with Grundy gone now is that, while Archie continues to screw up pretty regularly, his mistakes are becoming less severe and he’s getting quicker at trying to fix them.

Archie has to follow the Pussycats on top of battling stage fright. They really threw this poor schmuck into the deep end head first, didn’t they? Did Reggie choose the order of these acts by any chance?

Awww, Betty feels bad that she’s missing Archie’s song. This girl is so pure that she has me absolutely dreading her inevitable psychotic episode. Crazy does seem to run in her family after all.

Archie does really well and gets a standing ovation. Because no matter how many times he screws up, I guess it wouldn’t be Riverdale if everyone in town wasn’t in love with this guy. But, hey, he had a personal problem that didn’t involve statutory rape and he overcame it. I call that progress.

So what was that stuff with the wolf masks all about?

How long is Veronica going to be passive aggressively giving her mom shit for this thing with Fred Andrews? I’d tell her to be realistic about the chances of her parents getting back together, but this is apparently some wacko, bizarro world, parallel universe where Jughead likes girls, so clearly the writers have checked realism at the door.

Polly escaping the mental hospital (or whatever it is we’re calling that place) seriously plays like the beginning of a slasher flick. But she jumped out of a second or third story window, heavily pregnant. How far could she possibly have gotten?

My newest theory is that Polly killed Jason and then convinced herself that it never happened because, you know, she's fucking nuts.

#archie andrews #betty cooper #polly cooper #josie and the pussycats #1x06 #faster pussycats kill kill #riverdale

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jentrevellan · 8 years ago

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SUMMARY: Cullen’s POV to the events of Dragon Age: Inquisition. Cullen x Lyla Lavellan (Mage)! One-sided Solas romance! Some in-game scenes expanded! Plus lots more to come! Reblogs, likes and replies are loved. ^^ **Updated every 2 weeks!**

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-> Read on Ao3 -> Read on FF -> Artwork by @anafigreen

CHAPTER NINE: In Your Heart Shall Burn

Over the next few days, Lyla makes a point of coming to see me at least once a day, just to chat. I find myself finding it easier and easier to talk to her, as we observe the recruit mages together, ensuring they are prepared for the upcoming march to the summit. I have come to look forward to her discussions, which could sometimes last a few hours, for she was always on her own, and never with Dorian or anyone else. I like to think that I'm hopefully becoming her friend, and it's easy to see how all of these people around her came to trust her so completely, so quickly. On the few days she is away before we march, I can feel myself become sober from her absence, and I knock back into myself that it can't ever be something more. We are in the middle of a war, and the world could end at any moment. And yet…

I ready myself as we enter the war council room. The final checks have been made - now is the time. "The best of the mages are ready, Herald," I say formally. "Be certain you are prepared for the assault on the breach. We cannot know how you will be affected."

I try not to think about how she could be affected. It seems to be a thought many of us around the table are thinking, and yet dare not speak. If she is anxious about the huge task ahead of her, she does not show it, but departs straight away taking Dorian, Cassandra and Solas with her.

We march up from Haven, a mix of excitement and apprehension in the air. The threat of more demons is highly likely, so everyone is on their guard. I march with the vanguard, and thankfully morale with the troops is high - they have complete faith in her. And, as do I, however I cannot help but worry. The magic is unknown to us all, except Solas, so the consequences of her sealing the breach with the help of the mages is incredibly risky. I know, that if I had been here as a Templar ten years previously, I would not be marching happily uphill.

I approach the conclave and the best mages take their positions as we await the Herald. It is an awful sight to behold, the conclave. The red lyrium snakes all around the ruins, and I can hear that awful song in my ears. It pulls at me even now - the melody so much stronger here, where I am surrounded by the forsaken stuff. The temptation to clamp by hands over my ears is strong, but when I look behind me, I see her approach - her blonde hair swept to one side, and her eyes wide and staring at the breach. The anchor on her hand pules as she moves past me and closer to the breach. Our eyes meet for a moment, and the melody in my head pauses. It is now, I realise, that even if she does not care for me, I most certainly care for her.

Lyla looks to Solas and Cassandra beside her, before stepping as close as she dares to the breach high above.

"Mages!" Cassandra calls.

"Focus past the Herald!" Solas shouts. "Let her will draw from you!"

Magic surrounds me as Lyla struggles closer to the breach, her left hand is outstretched in front of her. She forces her way through the battling surges of the rift before the mages exude their magics and strengthen her. Staffs strike to the ground, cries are called as the mages pour out their mana strength to Lyla - all for her - as she closes the breach with a cry and her arm stretched out above. The air moves thick and fast around me, and the terrible song cries louder in my mind-

A loud crash, and I am thrown backwards from my feet, as is those soldiers beside me. The melody is still there but dimmer. I get to my feet and help those around me before looking back to Lyla. She is also getting to her feet, and I sigh with relief. Cassandra is there at her side, helping her up. "You did it." she says, for all of us to hear.

The soldiers, mages and templars around me cheer and cry with delight at our success. I smile, but something on the back of my neck tells me we are far from safe. Lyla also looks concerned, but with the breach closed, our job here is done.

The troops are desperate for ale and songs when we are back at Haven. All the residents and those now part of the growing Inquisition are dancing and laughing, swapping stories, sharing kisses, and yet I stand back away from it all and observe the training yard. It does not feel right - it has gone far too smoothly. I cannot relax, so unsheathe my sword and practice sparring on a straw dummy. It helps me think upon my technique, and my future. Will the Inquisition be needed anymore? I try not to ponder it, and instead focusing entirely upon my stance.

"Is it dead yet?" a voice behind me says.

I glance over my shoulder to see Dorian watching me. He smiles and I turn back and continue training.

"You know, everyone is dancing and celebrating the close of the breach - all but two people," he continues coming to stand next to another dummy. "You and our lovely Herald."

I pause. I would have thought she would be pulled into the celebrations with Dorian and Sera. It does surprise me that she is not.

Dorian rubs his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I think she's waiting for something… or someone," he smiles mischievously before turning away and heading back to the crowds of Haven.

What in the world was he talking about? Does that mean she's waiting for Dorian, and his smug little face came down here to gloat about it to me? Or could it mean… could it possibly mean…?

Perhaps tonight would be the only night I would get to say something. I care about her, yet I have only just admitted that to myself - there is no way I can say it to her, or let anyone else know. To them, I am just the Commander: someone you really don't want to get on the wrong side with. I look longingly up to gates of Haven, chewing over my thoughts when, of all things, a war horn snaps me out of my trance.

I turn on my heel, and look back. Banners and flames in the mountains. There must be hundreds, no thousands of figures marching towards Haven. I shake my head - this cannot be happening! But instinct takes over, and I rally nearby soldiers to act. Thanks to their training, they are on their feet and to attention straight away. I dispatch them to the trebuchets and to check the defences before running back up to Haven.

"Forces approaching! To arms!" I call as I march through the gates. They are quick to oblige, and I can hear the Chantry bell tolling in the distance. There is panic around me as the dancing and merriment is brought to an abrupt halt, and some townsfolk start to scream in panic. It's got that feeling of war again and yet we are here, almost defenceless.

I'm met at the gate by Lelianna and Josephine, who are followed by Lyla and Cassandra. Villagers and soldiers alike run past us whilst Dorian catches up and quips: "Never a dull moment for southerners, is there?"

"Cullen?!" Cassandra asks, and I can see they are all looking at me, waiting for my command. These people are not soldiers - they are advisors like myself. Never before have I realised that we need a leader more than ever.

"One watch guard reporting. It's a massive force, the bulk over the mountain," I say, pointing.

"Under what banner?" Josephine asks.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. For a surprise attack, no force would display banners. "None."

"None?!"

They are silent around me, but Lyla has stepped forward to the gates, and I know that we are all looking to her. Naturally looking to her. It's obvious that, as the Herald, we follow her guidance and we advise. Her leadership seems natural and... I know that I would follow her to my death if I have to.

There's a crash outside the gates, and knocking. Perplexed, we watch as Lyla steps forward, her hand raised in a signal not to follow.

"I can't come in unless you open!" cries a voice from the other side.

With no hesitation, Lyla is there, pulling the gates open, despite our protests. It could so easily be a trap! I unsheathe my sword, just in case of an attack, and Cassandra does the same. On the other side of the gates, a masked soldier stumbles forward before collapsing. Behind him is a youth, his knife dripping with blood from the masked soldier. His hat is large and covers almost all of his face. Cautiously, Lyla steps closer, and I'm there, by her side, ready to defend. I know she can take care of herself, but it's a natural instinct I can't shake.

The young man speaks. "I'm Cole. I came to warn you. To help. People are coming to hurt you. You probably already know."

"What is this?" Lyla demands. "What's going on?"

The young man, Cole, tilts his head. "The Templars come to kill you."

I feel like I've been stabbed. My body freezes and the grip on my sword tightens. "Templars?!" I say exasperated. I step closer to the boy who shies away towards Lyla. "Is this the Order's response to our talks with the mages? Attacking blindly?"

Cole speaks quickly. "The Red Templars went to the Elder One. You know him? He knows you. You took his mages." He points to the mountain. "There."

I look past his outstretched hand and can see, upon a hill across the lake, two figures silhouetted against the marching Red Templars. The figure on the left seems familiar… and then it hits me. Samson? Surely not… "I know that man," I say quietly to Lyla. "But this Elder One…?"

Lyla is still beside me as we look up at the two figures. Samson is barely recognizable from the young man I once knew. His face looks gaunt, his hair greasy and slicked back. I cannot see him clearly but it's a sight that will haunt me for a long time, as next to Samson is a tall figure, his face distorted with what looks to be red lyrium. His body is skeletal and… incomplete. I have seen many terrible abominations in my time and yet the power that exudes from this being makes that terrible song in my mind louder. It's a calling I cannot ignore - and it is tempting to listen. Maker, give me strength.

"He's very angry that you took his mages," Cole says slowly. There is something about the boy I cannot place, and yet I think he must be at least trying to help. In a situation like this, any help is worth taking, with questions asked later.

"Cullen," Lyla says. "Give me a plan, anything!"

"Haven is no fortress," I admit. "If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle." I look across to the trebuchets, where some of my troops are frantically calibrating. "Get out there and hit that force, use everything you can!"

She nods and I turn around, as always, prepared to command... "Mages! You have sanction to engage them!" I order. "That is Samson. He will not make it easy!" There are nervous glances between mages and soldiers. I raise my sword high. "Inquisition! With the Herald! For your lives! For all of us!" They cheer and charge, providing cover as Lyla, Cassandra, Dorian and Solas run towards the trebuchets.

I order men and women to attack on sight and to ensure that those assisting with the trebuchets are kept safe. It's messy work once the Red Templars appear. I can hear them approach, hear the hum of their terrible song. They are deformed and I try not to loose my resolve. These are men and women who I may have known when I was in the Order. If things had not not gone differently, I could have…

No, I cannot think of what could've been now. It's clear they cannot be reasoned with - their minds are gone, almost to the state of a Tranquil, with no control of their thoughts or emotions. As I cut them down, one after another, I fall into a trance, where I'm doing my duty once more. I do not think about Lyla battling with them just feet away from me, her staff twirling in her hands, the magic pouring out of her to defend her friends and soldiers.

One trebuchet calibrated, she dashes off to the other one up the hill and I lose sight of her. The Red Templars are relentless and I lose count of how many I kill, as I step over their corpses. I see the signal that both trebuchets are ready to fire, and with no hesitation I give the order. They shoot high in the air and crash onto the mountain side, causing a massive avalanche. All around me the fighting pauses as we watch the Red Templar army get swallowed by the unforgiving snow. Some men begin to cheer - yes, a good chunk of the army has been destroyed in one swift move, but the battle is not over yet.

Well, I could not have been more right.

There is a terrible, terrible screech from the sky and I look up in disbelief. A fire bolt hisses down and explodes the further trebuchet where Lyla is. Panic tries to set in, but I call my soldiers. "Retreat to Haven! Retreat!"

I hold the gate open, urging them to run in. This cannot be happening. And then I see her, running down the slope towards me, blood splattered all over her. "Everyone to the gates!" she calls over her shoulder and they follow her without hesitation.

She stops by the smithy and I can't believe it but she's helping him get the door open to his burning workshop! Her compassion will kill her I think, but I cannot help but admire her. It's so typically like her to put everyone before herself. Once the smithy is safe, she's running with him towards me and does a final check to ensure she's the last one through.

"Move it! Move it!" I call to the final stragglers. With a little help, I'm pulling the gates shut as the dragon flies above us. We bar it shut and Lyla is next to me. The temptation to just take her somewhere safe is overwhelming, but I cannot. It is not right and she can look after herself... I know this.

"We need everyone back in the Chantry!" I call. "It's the only building that can hold against… that beast!" I look at her. "At this point, make them work for it."

I'm holding the Chantry doors open, helping injured villagers dash into a now full Chantry building. There is panic and screams and the smell of burnt flesh is everywhere. I reluctantly order soldiers to seal the doors shut but await the Herald. They oblige and I take in the scene of families screaming for their loved ones, their livelihoods, all destroyed so suddenly and unexpectedly. This is the war and death that I remember, which I did not think I would see again so soon. The suffering of innocents is so unfair - unjust - but I cannot grieve yet.

A knock at the chantry doors pulls me from my thoughts and Lyla is there, running in with Dorian, Cassandra and Solas. A final few stragglers run in with Lyla and the Chantry cleric is there, his stomach bleeding, leaving thick pools of blood on the flagstones. Cole is there, helping him sit when I approach. The doors are closed and sealed once more.

"Herald!" I say, and she looks at me, and my stomach is in knots. "Our position is not good," I admit. "That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us."

"I've seen an archdemon," Cole says. "I was in the Fade, but it looked like that."

I bristle. "I don't care what it looks like. It has cut a path for that army. They'll kill everyone in Haven!"

"The Elder One doesn't care about the village. He only wants the Herald," Cole says poignantly, looking at Lyla who cannot meet his gaze.

"If you know why he wants me, just say it," she says cooly.

The boy doesn't blink. "I don't. He's too loud. It hurts to hear him." I shake my head at the boy's cryptic messages but he continues. "He wants to kill you. No-one else matters, but he'll crush them, kill them anyway. I don't like him."

"You don't like-" I begin, but then stop myself, looking earnestly at Lyla. "Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche… we could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide."

She steps towards me. She is so close that I know that if I reach out now, I would be able to touch her. I resist. I cannot - must not. "We're overrun. To hit the enemy, we'd bury Haven," she says, calculating my words. It's a sobering thought that will be a reality soon enough.

My hand moves to touch her, but I snap it back, and rest it on the hilt of my sword. "We're dying," I say softly. "But we can decide how. Many don't get that choice." My voice breaks and I look away. Maker preserve us. At least I will be with her, when we go.

"Yes… that." Cole says quietly, looking over his shoulder before looking back at us. "Chancellor Roderick can help. He wants to say it before he dies."

"There is a path," the old man croaks. "You wouldn't know it unless you'd made the summer pilgrimage … as I have." He tries to stand and Lyla steps closer. "The people can escape. She must have shown me. Andraste must have shown me so I could… tell you."

Lyla reaches out to support him. "What are you on about, Roderick?"

"It was whim that I walked the path. I did not mean to start - it was overgrown. Now, with so many in the conclave dead, to be the only one who remembers… I don't know, Herald." He is gasping for breath, a hand clutched to his side. He's dying before our eyes and Lyla's brow knitted in concern. "If this simple memory can save us, this could be more than mere accident. You could be more."

She blinks and I can see her mind process this information. Turning to me she says: "What about it, Cullen? Will it work?"

I nod. "Possibly. If he shows us the path." I pause. "But what of your escape?"

I dread her answer. She turns away and faces the Chantry doors. My Commander stance drops and I close my eyes, understanding. As with the smithy, she will sacrifice herself, her needs, for everyone else. How did we get this most unselfish person? Truly, she must be sent by Andraste.

"I… perhaps you will surprise it, find a way…" I try to fill the silence. But she does not respond. I turn away quickly, not wanting to see her resolve break. I think if she breaks, then I will too and all will be lost. "Inquisition! Follow Chancellor Roderick through the Chantry. Move!" I order. They move out quickly, Cole helping Roderick limp along.

"Herald," he rasps. "If you were meant for this, if the Inquisition was meant for this, I pray for you." She nods as he heads into the Chantry with the soldiers. I select a few experienced soldiers for the task of loading the trebuchets, ready for attack.

Then it is just us, for a moment. A million thoughts run through my mind. This could be it - the last time I see her. Will I forever regret not telling her I care? How I want to follow her, but I know I cannot as everything she is sacrificing herself for would fall apart if I am not there to Command the Inquisition. It would be in vain if I did not continue. But how could I? How has this small elven woman become such a big part of my life, without either of us really knowing?

"These men will load the trebuchets," I say in a voice stronger than I feel. "Keep the Elder One's attention until we're above the tree line."

She nods and without a backward glance heads out. I watch her leave, Solas looking at me over his shoulder. I am thankful she is not alone. She is with friends who care for her too and I know I can trust them. I think.

"If we are to have a change - if you are to have a chance - let that thing hear you," I shout before the doors swing shut. I don't know if she hears me.

The passage is dark but clear and we make quick progress. Lelianna scouts ahead and secures a save area above the tree line. I bring up the rear until at last we are there and all who were in the Chantry are evacuated. I watch in dismay as the dragon swoops down and a trebuchet explodes in a ball of fire. The final stragglers are climbing the hill, so I get my archer ready to light the signal.

Figures are running towards us, and I draw my sword, but it three friendly figures approaching. It hits me that it's not four. Cassandra struggles in the snow towards me, her armour glittering with blood.

"The Herald?" I manage to say.

Cassandra looks at Solas and shakes her head. "She… she is still there: told us to escape. She… is sacrificing herself for us all…" Her voice trails away as she looks down at the mountain. Cassandra is not the woman to cry and yet I can see how distraught she is. Her eyes glisten in the moonlight.

Looking down at Haven, I can see the huge dragon and that terrifying Elder One by the trebuchet. There is another figure there, and I hope that it's Lyla. I cannot see how she will survive and yet I pray. I am praying to the Maker as I signal the archer to loose the signal arrow. It flies high above us into the air, and there is a silence as we all wait with baited breath.

The trebuchet is loosed and hits the mountain to our left. With a mighty rumble, the snow and rocks displace and crash below, covering Haven, the Red Templar army and - ultimately — Lyla. The dragon swoops off into the distance and there is total and utter silence.

"We… we must keep moving," I say eventually. We cannot stay out in the cold and freeze to death, not after her sacrifice.

I have no emotion. I am certain she is crushed under the snow with Haven. Perhaps, when we are safe, I will personally escort a small party to retrieve her body. Although how I will react if and when I find her crumpled body, I cannot say. Images flash in my mind of her suffocating under the snow, the life - her life - extinguishing. It is unbearable, and I look around me. The others are also struggling with the very reality that she is gone. A sacrifice for us all.

Our pace is slow as we trudge through the thick snow. Solas mentions, in a voice so flat and devoid of emotion, that he remembers seeing a clearing to the north, around a day's march from our location. It's all we have to go on, but as soon as Lelianna's scouts ahead report of a sheltered alcove in the mountains, we make great haste.

I do not speak to anyone unless I have to. I try and keep things in control and to not show any emotion, less it dampen the spirits of the troops and villages around me. It is torture to know that each step is taking me further and further away from her and yet I continue, remembering her sacrifice. Remembering her face when it was laughing and full of life. I remember those little times we spent down by the frozen lake, just talking. Her genuine interest in everything, in me.

I am not alone in my grieving. Cassandra barely rests and glares at anyone who dares to smile during our march. Solas, like me, only speaks when spoken too, otherwise he is out in front of our traveling column, always looking ahead, his face an expressionless mask. For once, Dorian is silent, and it's actually more unsettling than I thought. He does not mourn openly, but sometimes looks to the sky, his brows knitted in thought. The other members of the Herald's inner circle distance themselves - she was what brought them together. But lost in the mountains without Lyla's presence, they have nowhere to go. I catch Sera rubbing angry tears from her eyes, and glares at me when she notices.

Nearly two days later we are frozen from the cold, but the storm has cleared and the sheltered alcove Solas mentioned is in front of us. There is a sigh of relief throughout all of the travelers as we set up camp. I get to work right away to send out scouts to find out our location, and also set up guard rotation and duty. Everyone sets about their task, helping others by sorting rations of food, finding kindling and such. I am exhausted and numb so I can't stop to think. I do not stop to even sleep.

#War Never Changes #my fanfic #my fanfiction #da #dragon age fanfiction #lyla lavellan #cullen rutherford

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dracox-serdriel · 7 years ago

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Orion - Chapter Ten: The Keeper of the Months (Orion)

Title: Orion [AO3] [LJ] [FF] [Tumblr] Chapter: The Keeper of the Months Universe: The Flash Pairings: SnowJay (Caitlin Snow/Jay Garrick), SnowHunter (Caitlin Snow/Hunter Zolomon) Word count: 4,800 Spoilers: All episodes through 02x18 Versus Zoom and all comic books that feature Zoom/Hunter Zolomon. Rating: NC-17/MA Chapter summary: Caitlin recovers from the trauma of the siege at the Comet.

Set immediately after the events in 02x18 Versus Zoom, Orion includes flashbacks to missing scenes during canon episodes of the season when SnowJay was developing.

Read Orion from the beginning.

Orion Chapter 10: The Keeper of the Months

Caitlin stared at the magnificent waterfall that stretched up, up, up into the sky, so high she couldn't see where it began. It was breathtaking.

She got close, so close that its roaring was deafening. She reached out and ran her hand under it, testing the pressure and temperature before she ducked under the cascade, letting it drench her to the bone, relishing the sweeping rush as it washed everything away.

A hand was at her elbow, warm and gentle, and she knew who it was before she turned to see him. He was already so close she could only see his face and a titillating glimpsed of his bare chest.

How much of him was bare?

She shuttered at the thought, thrilled with the possibilities. Then his arms wrapped around her as his mouth captured hers, and she became lost in his tongue and lips and teeth, drowning in his eyes, more black than blue, blown wide with desire. She drank him in as he lifted her, wrapping her arms and legs around him as she sank over his flesh, groaning helplessly into their kiss.

His thrusts reached a punishing pace, the rhythm wild, reckless, perfect.

"Hunter!" she moaned as her climax crashed into her like a riptide.

She gasped for air just before the undertow dragged her down, out of his arms, and into the ocean, covering her with salt and cold and panic. She struggled against it as she fought her way to the surface, desperate for her next breath.

She was nearly there when something stopped her. It was as if a glass wall held her beneath the waves. She kicked, frantically maneuvering to escape, only to find herself completely boxed in: encased and submerged.

Caitlin threw strike after strike to no avail, and with the very last of her breath, she screamed, unleashing nothing but a flurry of bubbles.

Caitlin snapped awake, clawing at the blankets and reeling in confusion. She had just enough awareness to stumble out of bed, down the hall, and into the bathroom, where she nearly fell to the floor as she wretched over the toilet.

Her throat burned as a horrible taste filled her mouth, her stomach churning furiously and bringing up nothing but bile.

She collapsed. Now she was awkwardly splayed across the cold tile floor, reality returning slowly.

She was in a medical gown, light and loose over her skin, but she couldn't remember putting it on. The last thing she recalled was overlooking a wreck of a building as blue lightning streaked in the morning light. She had been wearing the Bellatrix suit - her suit.

No, that wasn't right. She had been called away. Blink had taken her to Totem because... because...

A wave of nausea overcame her as the images flashed through her mind: Hunter's injury; his pale, vacant body; and his blood... his blood everywhere, but most especially on her hands.

Caitlin pulled her knees to her chest as she fought the sob rising in her throat. Her memory collided with her last dream - the waterfall red with blood and his warm embrace as cold as a corpse - jumbling together into a kaleidoscope of pain and passion.

The lurid images of her unconscious mind were entirely unnecessary. She already knew that Hunter had dragged her down and now the weight of him was crushing her, holding her under. She was trapped.

And there was no going back. Not to Earth-1 and not to who she used to be, assuming she survived that long.

You've made it this far. Don't give up.

She wanted to laugh, but it caught somewhere in her chest. She didn't know how she'd gotten back to the Comet - Blink, probably - but it was only a matter of time before the MTU or some revenge-driven metahuman came calling. Hunter was - had been - the only one on Earth-2 who cared if she lived or died. With him gone, she was truly alone.

The soft padding of paws on tile drew her attention. A gray fox stood a few feet away, staring at her with... concern.

Must be one of Totem's familiars.

"I'm fine," she said, assuming Totem could hear her. "Fine."

It took everything she had to pick herself up off the floor. She flushed the toilet and washed her hands before driving the horrible taste from her mouth with her toothbrush. After she splashed cool water on her face, she caught sight of a figure in the mirror. Someone was standing behind her in the bathroom doorway.

It can't be.

Caitlin whipped around, certain that the man she saw couldn't be there.

"Ronnie?"

No, he was dead. Not just her Ronnie, but Deathstorm, too. So how was he here? She wondered if she had died in that forest, and all of this just echoes of her dwindling mind, complete with the ultimate wish fulfillment: reuniting with her husband.

But then she noticed that Ronnie was holding RJ on his hip. Their matching eyes stared at her, as if to say, "Come with us." So when Ronnie turned and walked away, she followed without hesitation.

Does this mean that Hunter is alone?

The question came unbidden and abrupt, and she stumbled in both her footing and resolve. He was dead because of her, because she failed to save him. She wondered if maybe he was waiting for her... wherever it was she was headed. Her thoughts churned and writhed, threatening to throw her into an eternal stasis of what-ifs.

She couldn't stop now.

Ronnie's long stride and quick step had already put considerable distance between them. She managed to climb out of her own head just in time to see him disappear into her room.

She scrambled after him, crossing the threshold mere moments later, panicked and thrilled at the same time.

The sheets were as she'd left them, carelessly thrown to one side of the bed, where RJ sat, his eyes sleepy and wide as he sucked on his fingers. She spun on her heel, scouring the room, but she and RJ were the only ones there.

She sat on the bed and wrapped RJ in her arms, desperate to feel something real. His weight and warmth grounded her and eased her breathing, yet she couldn't help but wonder if he, too, was a figment of her imagination.

"It's okay," she said, more to herself than RJ. "It's going to be okay."

She dragged the crib so it was right next to her bed before she placed RJ inside. As soon as his head touched his tiny pillow, he fell asleep, and she felt a weight lift from her shoulders.

"It's going to be okay," she repeated.

She almost meant it that time. Almost.

"You're awake."

Caitlin didn't look away from RJ. She recognized Totem's voice, but she wasn't ready to respond. She wasn't ready to accept that she was alive and awake, that some part of this was real.

"Bellatrix?" Totem asked. "You collapsed. Do you remember?"

Caitlin nodded her head, yes.

"It is good to see you on your feet," she said. "But you should rest. At least until morning."

Caitlin didn't think she could go back to sleep. She was afraid that lying down would send her mind into overdrive, obsessing over what the morning would bring. Or worse, she might fall asleep and dream.

I'm losing my mind.

"No," Totem said firmly.

It took a moment to realize that Totem was responding to her thoughts. She finally looked at the other woman, somewhere between furious and relieved.

"I apologize," Totem continued. "I had not expected you to wake until morning. Ghost came to check on the boy before I knew."

Caitlin digested the words, her comprehension slowed from her jarring awakening. Then she remembered that Totem had mentioned that the children in the Comet had two caretakers: Cloak and Ghost.

"Ghost?" she repeated.

"You cannot look upon her face," Totem said, as if that explained anything.

"So, when I saw him... it wasn't him, just a meta's powers?"

Suddenly, a faceless metahuman using Ronnie's image as a stealth mechanism felt infinitely worse than losing her mind. It was an insult to his memory.

"Ghost cannot control who or what you see," Totem explained. "Apart from myself, the only ones immune to her affliction are children."

The word affliction was like a dagger, cutting through her emotions with a searing edge, leaving nothing but sadness in its wake. Exhaustion soon followed.

"I know you are tired," Totem continued. "But I must ask that you tell no one of this. Please. She does not deserve to be punished for my mistake."

Caitlin didn't understand why Totem was so anxious for her silence on the subject.

"Don't worry," she replied. "There's no one left to tell."

Something flashed behind Totem's eyes, and somehow, Caitlin knew that it was about Hunter. But that didn't make any sense.

"He lives," was all Totem said.

"He lives?" Caitlin repeated, unable to believe it.

"He lives."

Pure unrelenting relief swept over her. She hadn't failed him. She'd saved him. Hunter was alive. She wasn't alone.

Zoom lives. Because of you.

The thought was more accusatory than congratulatory, but she didn't care. She didn't care that a part of her hated herself for being happy that he was alive, and she certainly didn't care that she was being torn in two by the conflict.

He was alive. There was still time.

"You must rest, Bellatrix," Totem said.

Caitlin climbed into bed rather than replying. She doubted she would sleep right up until she closed her eyes.

Hunter returned to the house after midnight, stiff and drained from the day's battle. It had taken twelve hours to execute burn site protocol, and he had wasted another four recuperating in one of his old hideaways, fuming over the fact that his healing had slowed to such a degree. He wanted to check up on Caitlin, but he couldn't risk the trip with his injuries, so he sustained himself with the unbearably terse status reports from the Comet.

After hours with little more than confirmation that she was still breathing, he was desperate to see her face, to know irrefutably that she was alive and well. It took every shred of his will to step lightly up the stairs when every molecule of his being demanded that he race to her side.

And there she was, bathed in moonlight. She was beautiful like this, completely relaxed with her hair spread across the pillow. He could easily stand here and watch her like this for hours on end.

He had been so consumed with seeing her that he hadn't registered the crib alongside her bed, so close that it trapped some of her sheets. He hadn't forgotten about the boy, but he hadn't thought about him since he ordered Totem to make arrangements, either.

He tried to remind himself that this boy was likely no more than a patient, but there had been hundreds of children at the MTU facility. What set this boy apart from the dozens of other captives his age?

Hunter could stand in the doorway and watch her sleep all night. It would've been a welcome reprieve from the events of the last two days, but he couldn't afford such a luxury, not yet. The MTU would soon regroup, and he wouldn't let The Cause be unprepared for their next strike.

And he needed to identify this boy. Just in case.

Resolved to his next steps, he walked over to the far side of Caitlin's bed, leaned over, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Sleep well," he whispered.

Then he left her room and descended into the basement, donning his Zoom suit before proceeding into the chaos he knew awaited him in the Comet.

Caitlin awoke to the sound of RJ crying. People always said that a mother knew her child's need by the sound of the cry, but for the life of her, she couldn't tell. Probably because - DNA not withstanding - she wasn't really his mother.

She took him to the bathroom and changed him, and the crying stopped. Then she put him back in his crib so she could shower.

She took longer than necessary under the water, trying to shake the stiffness from her limbs. She kept wondering if the conversation she'd had with Totem was real or part of a very bizarre dream.

She was relieved that he was alive, and she hated herself for it. She drudged up every one of his sins: pretending to be a hero, kidnapping Jesse, breaking Barry's back and stealing his speed. But no matter how many horrible things she thought about him, her righteous anger evaporated with the memory of him broken and empty on that surgical table.

She was too tired to be angry with him and too emotionally exhausted to hate herself. So, as she dried off, she made a mental list of all the patients she wanted to see.

She wasn't ready to face the day, but she tied her still-wet hair into a ponytail and carried RJ downstairs for breakfast anyway.

She should've expected him, but nevertheless, she stumbled when she saw Hunter waiting for her downstairs in a dark green t-shirt and jeans. The table was already set, including a new highchair.

"Caitlin," he said as he got to his feet. "Good morning."

It was so mundane - so painfully normal - that she wasn't sure how to act.

"Hi," she replied lamely.

"Here, let me take him," he said as he reached out.

She stepped back and clutched RJ to her chest, her first instinct to keep him in her arms. Hunter stopped dead in his tracks, his arms dropping, clearly stung by her unwillingness to hand him over.

"I thought you might be hungry. Both of you," he said, the tremor in his voice betraying his calm demeanor. "I... I would never hurt him, Caitlin."

"Oh, no, it's not..." she said, fumbling as if her tongue had swollen to twice its size. Luckily, she didn't have to think hard to explain herself. "It's just - your arm. The cast should still be on. Isn't it - "

"It's fine," he said, interrupting her as he stepped in close and put his hands on her shoulders. He seemed pleased with her answer. "I'm fine. Thanks to you. I thought breakfast was the least I could do."

Even though she was reluctant to let him go, she held him out. Hunter wouldn't harm him.

That's just what you want to believe.

Hunter took RJ to the highchair, which had cheerios and yogurt set out on its tray. She helped herself to pancakes and eggs, and he followed suit.

She did her best to ignore the image of a nuclear family sharing a meal. This wasn't real. It was just a passing mirage.

"I know that what you saw yesterday was... difficult," he began. "But there's more. It would be easier to show you."

"Show me? What about all the injured?" she asked.

"The Comet isn't expecting you," he replied. "You passed out the other day."

"Only because I hadn't eaten," she replied, more defensively than she intended. Then she added, "It's just - I'm needed here."

"You'll always be needed here."

Her mouth went dry, his sincerity as unexpected as his even temper. Everything about him this morning had her off-guard.

Only because you thought he was dead.

"Then tonight," he said.

She couldn't think of anything to say other than, "Okay, tonight."

He's manipulating you.

"And what about him?" he said, indicating RJ.

"RJ," she said automatically.

"He needs a nickname."

"He's not a meta."

"You don't know that," he said. "And even if he's not, everyone has an alias in the Comet."

She stared at RJ, unsure of what nickname might suit him. She could use another name from Harry Potter, but none of them seemed right. She considered his parents's aliases, Deathstorm and Killer Frost.

"Frostbite," she said, saying the first name that felt right.

"Frostbite," he repeated. "Much better than Killer Frost Junior."

She started at his offhanded comment, but she shouldn't have been surprised. He probably went looking for RJ's identity as soon as he heard that she demanded to keep him at her side.

"Did you know that Deathstorm and Frost had a son?" she asked pointedly.

"I knew they had a secret," he replied. "They were far too powerful to be kept under Reverb's thumb for so long. I assumed he had leverage."

"You mean, keeping it secret from you?"

"Probably," he replied. "Little did they know, they had far more to fear from Reverb. I don't hurt children. Reverb, on the other hand..."

"So you didn't know that Deathstorm was a father when you killed him?"

She hadn't meant to ask that, and she regretted it immediately. But part of her - the part that kept reminding her that Hunter was monster that could never be redeemed - needed to know, even though Deathstorm wasn't her Ronnie.

Caitlin anticipated a raised voice and a grimace, but instead, all she saw was pained resignation, as if he had hoped for better but expected a response exactly like this.

"No," he said. "Even if I had known, it wouldn't have changed anything."

"How can you say that?" she asked. "You said you don't hurt children. What do you think happens when you take their parents away from them?"

"Would you have preferred I let him kill Barry?" Hunter asked, an edge to his question that was somehow worse than his usual anger.

She didn't have anything to say to that.

Thankfully, Hunter took that moment to rise from his seat and take his plate to the sink, even though he hadn't eaten much.

As he walked back, he stopped next to her chair and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Tonight," he said. "I'll be back at seven."

She nodded her head, yes, and he continued out the front door.

She turned to RJ, who was too happily playing with his food to be bothered with the incredibly odd conversation that just transpired.

Half an hour later, Caitlin carried RJ downstairs, his cheeks slightly pink from her scrubbing. She hadn't realized how difficult it was to wipe yogurt off a two-year-old.

She had expected to find the corridors brimming with people, but the top floor was empty and eerily silent. She walked into the room that served as her office, and no sooner had she arrived than a gray-and-white streak bolted out. She caught enough of a glimpse to recognize the fox from the night previous.

She settled RJ into the new playpen by her desk. She hadn't had time to consider what it would mean to take care of him, let alone what she'd need to do it. She was lucky that Totem had things in order.

She felt a twinge of guilt. Totem had been with her in the field and at the Comet, yet she had somehow not only anticipated her new needs but also arranged for the appropriate supplies. Surely she - and, frankly, everyone else - had better things to do in the aftermath of a siege.

But she was very grateful that she could have RJ within arm's reach.

She opened the rolodex on the computer. There were hundreds of new patients, though, thankfully, most were admitted for injuries like minor burns, broken bones, and lacerations. Even those without meta-healing would likely make a full recovery.

There were a dozen critical patients. Half had been brought in with gunshot wounds, and the rest had catastrophic injuries: extensive burns, severed limbs, and even one listed as near-decapitation.

She was so caught up in the admission summaries that she hadn't noticed the names. She jolted when she saw that both Colonel Cold and Heat Wave had severe burns and severed limbs. She was about to pull up their full medical charts when another alias caught her eye: Killer Frost.

Her doppelganger had been brought in after surviving multiple gunshot wounds and a lengthy field surgery to remove the bullets.

Caitlin typed frantically, trying to pull up any other details, but the digital medical chart hadn't been updated since her arrival over twelve hours ago. All she could find was that she was in Unit C on the second floor.

Caitlin scooped up RJ and went to the elevator.

The second floor was teaming with people, all too busy to notice her ducking into Unit C.

Frost was barely conscious, but her bed was set to support her in a semi-upright sitting position. Her normally-blue skin was white as marble, and, if the machine read-outs were correct, her vitals were alarmingly weak.

Caitlin grabbed her medical chart. It appeared more detailed than its digital counterpart, but she couldn't tell because she only had one hand free with RJ on her hip. Unable to flip through it, she scoured the top page, hoping she'd find something to explain Frost's condition. She had been admitted hours ago. So why wasn't she healing?

She's not metahuman.

Somehow, Frost had obtained powers without the expression of an active meta-gene, which meant she couldn't assume that any of her knowledge about metahumans applied here. It was possible that Frost didn't possess any kind of accelerated healing.

Or that something the MTU used on her suppressed whatever regenerative powers she does have.

Her stomach tightened as she recalled Scrap's screams, Lullaby's terrified eyes, Grodd's separated-yet-still-living head, her - no, Frost's - mother, half-frozen. Her hand tightened against the chart as her mind wandered down a dark path, wondering what the MTU had had in store for RJ.

What they could have already done to him.

"Get out."

The words were hoarse and harsh but also so quiet that Caitlin wondered if she imagined them. Frost looked no more lucid now than she had a few minutes ago.

"GET. OUT!"

Her lips barely moved, but there was no doubt it was Killer Frost speaking. Clearly, she didn't want visitors right now.

"When you're better, we'll be back," Caitlin said.

She returned the chart and left for her office.

With all the new staff on hand, she didn't know who to ask to make a copy of Frost's chart, and she couldn't just take it, not without risking Frost's care.

As she placed RJ back in his playpen, she thought, Would it really be so bad if she didn't get better?

She bit her tongue. Whatever crimes Frost was guilty of, she didn't deserve to die. Even if she did, RJ didn't. He had lost too many family members already.

"Bellatrix," Totem said from the doorway.

"Thank you," she blurted, remembering the guilt. "For... everything."

"You should not be working," Totem said bluntly.

"I - what?" Caitlin replied, fumbling at the unexpected response.

"You are still under Doctor Midnight's care," Totem explained. "You were relocated to your room after being successfully rehydrated, but you were not discharged."

"I'm fine," she replied. "You must need help here. After yesterday - "

"All patients have assigned medical care," Totem interrupted.

"Did Zoom put you up to this?"

"No," she replied. "A number of tests were ordered for you and are still being processed in the lab. You cannot be cleared to treat patients until those results verify your health."

"Totem, I - I can't go back upstairs and do nothing," she said.

"Then wake my son up," Blink said as she joined them.

Blink Junior had been scheduled to come out of his induced coma, but a stable patient like him wouldn't be a priority. Not with so twelve critical admissions on top of hundreds of minor cases flooding the same facility.

"I'd have to review his latest scans," Caitlin said to Blink. "To make sure he's ready."

"He is," Blink said. "I can feel it."

It was clear Totem didn't approve of this idea, and Caitlin wondered if her wariness came from having seen or sensed something.

Before she could ask, Totem spoke, an unusual edge to her voice, "I recommend that you take Frostbite upstairs and rest. If you will not, I must ask that you remain on the top floor and treat only Blink Junior."

Caitlin considered protesting but put it out of her mind. Even without patients, she still had a tremendous amount of Earth-2 medical research to read. She also could use the computer to find out how her other patients from the siege were doing.

Maybe it's not such a bad idea to take it easy.

"Okay," Caitlin said. "I'll treat Blink Junior."

"Hubris!" Totem shouted.

The silver fox raced into the room, sliding on its paws as it came to a halt beside RJ's playpen. It - no, he - looked up at her with wide, eager eyes.

"Be careful, Bellatrix," Totem warned before sweeping out of the room, leaving Hurbix the fox to watch over her.

After a tremendous amount of squabbling, Blink agreed to wait outside in the hallway with RJ as Caitlin brought Blink Junior out of his induced coma.

Hubris the fox eyed Scout the macaw as she worked, reducing Junior's intravenous medications to bring him out of the coma as gently as possible.

She had calculated the values carefully, taking his meta-healing into account, yet the boy snapped into consciousness as if she'd yanked him out violently.

It was clear from the look on his face that his vision remained compromised. She did her best to talk him through it, but he was too terrified to really hear her.

He's probably terrified of doctors after what the MTU did to him.

So she invited his mother into the room. Between his familiar and his positive response to his mother's presence, Caitlin decided it was safe to give them some space. They'd been apart long enough.

She spent the rest of the day in her office with RJ and Hubris, checking in on Junior and Blink at regular intervals, the hours slipping by quickly, probably because she was spending more time entertaining RJ than reading.

Then, at four in the afternoon, the computer came through with updated charts, including her own. Apparently, she was cleared to treat patients starting tomorrow afternoon.

She tried to pull up the lab results, but for some reason, they wouldn't load.

Caitlin didn't have trouble bringing up anybody else's files. She found that... suspicious.

Totem must be hiding something from you.

If something was being hidden from her, Zoom was the true culprit.

She really didn't like that possibility, so much so that when she checked in on Junior again, she asked Blink to obtain a paper copy of her lab results. To her surprise, the teleporter vanished immediately, returning less than a minute later empty-handed.

"Sorry, couldn't find it," Blink said. She put her hand on Caitlin's shoulder and added, "You ever need anything, Bellatrix, just ask."

She was disappointed until she realized Blink had slipped a note into her pocket. It read, "Upstairs bathroom between the towels. Don't let the fox see."

It seemed unnecessarily stealthy to hide it like that.

Unless Zoom gave the order.

So she went to her room and settled RJ into his crib before going to the bathroom, where, like Blink predicted, Hubris wouldn't follow her.

Still, she couldn't help but feel silly about all this. While Hunter could be concealing any number of things from her, what possible reason could he have to keep her lab results from her?

It was easy enough to spot. Blink hadn't just taken her lab results; she had stolen her entire medical file.

Caitlin riffled through to the most recent lab results. She had obviously been very dehydrated, given the electrolyte imbalance. Other than that, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, except that her estrogen levels were off the charts.

Her eyes stopped at the bottom of the page, her mind and heart faltering at the result.

It's a false positive.

She flipped to the next page of blood results. They were the same tests, run earlier in the day.

No, it can't be. It's not possible.

The next page was likewise a repeat test, done the day previous. There was a fourth from yesterday morning, likely run when she was first brought in.

Four tests. Four. It would be unlikely that one would be a false positive. It was impossible for all four to be incorrect.

She stared at page, hoping it would sink in and start making sense, but all that did was sear the words into her mind: "Pregnancy: POSITIVE."

Chapter notes: The title of this chapter, the Keeper of the Months, is from an epithet for Átse Ats'oosí, the Navajo name for the constellation Orion, which translates as 'First Slender One' or 'First Slim One.' Átse Ats'oosí always appears before the constellation Dilyéhé (the Planters), leading them safely through the night sky, making him a symbol of protection. He is called the Keeper of the Months because the calendar was built upon the movement of the stars, and it is the duty of Átse Ats'oosí to ensure that every star appears in its proper place and season, protecting the calendar that marks the months of the year.

Author’s notes: I hope you’ve enjoyed this latest installment. Hopefully the next chapter (entitled “The Saucepan”) will be out in about three weeks.

For next or previous chapters, go to the main Orion page.

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