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talatomaz · 4 years ago

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chased away by shadows | hailey upton x fem!reader

a/n: i didn’t include a love confession but i did reference it. after 8x11, we saw how hailey reacts to those words and honestly, i get it bc i’m kinda the same so i just changed it up a bit.

not a huge fan of this and there’s not as much hailey x r as i initially wanted but oh well, hope you still like it anon

(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)

requested by anon: “hi! can i please request a hailey upton x intelligence love interest reader please? it’s been a really rough case and reader is quite depressed and hailey comes over and reader ends up falling asleep safe and warm in hailey’s arms and in the morning there is a love confession maybe? hope that makes sense, thank you x ”

warnings: mentions of assault, death, murder. usual canon violence

word count: 1.6k

masterlist | navigation | request rules

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Upton and I will take the front. Burgess, Atwater, secure the back.”

You ordered, whispering into your comms.

It had been a rough couple of days.

The Intelligence Unit had caught a rape and murder case with seemingly no witnesses or leads to the sick bastard who’d done this.

Like the rest of your team, you were damn near losing the end of your rag at the lack of leads and it didn’t help that this brought up some unwanted memories from your past.

You shrugged them off, not wanting to get emotional at work but it was difficult. Especially when you had no idea who you were looking for.

But you’d managed to catch a break as one of your CIs had contacted you, telling you that they had heard about some gang member who’d been boasting about “having fun with a chick before popping her off”.

After some further investigation, you’d managed to identify the man. He had a rap sheet about as long as your arm, including prior battery and assault charges.

It was only when Halstead had found out that he was holed up in a supposedly vacant property that you’d all geared up, armed to the nines because you knew the kind of heat this gang carried.

“On my mark.” Halstead said into your comms.

He waited a few moments for you all to get into position. You were standing behind Hailey, your hand on her arm, alert and ready to conduct your search.

“Be careful.”

“You too.” You replied softy to your girlfriend.

You’d been dating for the past 6 months, having fallen into bed one night after a evening out at Molly’s. You’d both agreed to keep it a secret as it was a one-time thing but what you both didn’t realise at the time was just how much you liked one another.

It had soon become a habit. The two of you sleeping together after everyone gathered for a social call at Molly’s until one evening, Hailey told you that she liked you and wanted the two of you to be more than just sex.

You were surprised to say the least because there was never any indication that she liked you. In fact, you thought she was out of your league considering how beautiful and smart she was. But you decided to take the leap and you were so glad you did because you loved being with her.

Not that you’d told her those words yet, mind you.

It was a tough thing to say, for you anyway, especially after your past alongside the lack of any emotional attachments with your parents. And you knew Hailey had her fair share of trauma too, the majority of which you learned after you and Ruzek overheard her telling a suspect they had in interrogation.

And although your relationship wasn’t without its flaws, it had pretty much been smooth sailing since the moment you’d got together. No unnecessary drama or bullshit.

That was the last thing the both of you needed in this type of job.

“Now.” Halstead ordered so you gave a quick nod to the blonde before yelling “Chicago PD!” as Hailey kicked the door down.

There were a few offenders in the house who tried to run when you’d entered and as Hailey and the rest of the team went to secure them, you made your way up the stairs to see if there was anyone else hiding out.

Your arm was extended, gun clutched carefully in your hand, finger just next to the trigger, ready for any indication of movement. Reaching the landing at the top of the stairs, you entered one of the bedrooms. As you stepped through the door, someone jumped out and hit you in the head with a bottle. It shattered upon contact with your skull and the force threw you as you groaned in pain.

You began fighting the male, who weighed at least 100 pounds more than you, so it was no small feat. You wrestled with the gun he’d aimed at you before kicking him in between his legs and throat punching him.

As he coughed to catch his breath, you grabbed your gun that had fallen out of your hands and aimed it at the man crumbled on the floor. Ignoring the way blood seeped from your wound and down your face, you yelled, “Chicago PD. Stay down or I will drop you.”

Staring down at him, you realised that it was the man you’d been looking for and when he looked up at you with a sinister smirk on his face, you wanted nothing more than to shoot him where he lay.

But you had more self control than that so, instead, you kept your gun trained on him and called downstairs for back-up.

In less than a minute, Hailey and Jay were right beside you. Jay handcuffed the suspect and you re holstered your gun.

“Baby, are you okay?” Hailey asked frantically, her hand gently cupping your face as she examined the cut on your forehead.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You said, releasing the breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding.

“Are you sure? You’re bleeding pretty badly.”

You winced when Hailey touched the wound.

“Shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine. Come on, let’s go.”

✧── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

After apprehending the suspect, Hailey had forced you to be checked out by one of the paramedics who’d arrived to take care of one of the offenders that Kevin had shot. They’d cleaned and stitched the wound and told you to take some paracetamol for the pain.

Now you were currently watching Voight and Halstead take lead on interrogating the man who’d attacked you at the house.

The man was so vile that you had to force yourself to not jump through the two-way glass and smack him silly. He’d copped to the murder but wouldn’t admit to the rape, sitting there with a smirk on his face.

“She wanted it rough. She was a slut. I just gave her what she wanted.”

The words continued to ring in your ear as they were words that you, yourself, had once been told. Forcing the bile back down your throat, you watched as Voight moved to stand behind the man, his hands on his shoulders.

“I’d watch your mouth if I were you.” Voight said, the threat lingering behind his words.

Your hands clenched into fists as he continued to speak.

“I ain’t gonna apologise for banging that whore. She got what she wanted.”

You could feel your anger boiling until it threatened to consume you so you left the viewing room and briskly walked to your desk.

You grabbed your coat that was hung on the back of your chair and ran out of the precinct; ignoring how your girlfriend’s eyes bore in your body as you hurried out of the building.

She decided to let you go, knowing that you needed space for a few hours.

✧── ･｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

When you got back to your apartment, you fell down onto your couch, picked up one of the throw pillows and screamed into it, your frustrations coming to a blow.

You went from screaming to crying out of anger and old pain until you felt a hand on your shoulder that startled you. You hadn’t even realised Hailey had used her key to enter your apartment.

“Oh, baby.” Hailey murmured when she saw how red your eyes were.

She placed a soft kiss on your cheek and went to your freezer to grab an ice pack. She wrapped it in a table cloth and gently rested it over your eyes, the coolness soothing your swollen eyes immediately.

You tried to take the ice pack away from her but she simply tsked at you; too tired to fight, you instead relished in her taking care of you.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, finally gathering the courage to speak.

“It’s been a rough couple of days, honey. No one blames you for your reaction.”

“That’s not why I’m so...so angry and why I’m like this.” Your voice barely louder than a whisper but Hailey still heard you.

“What do you mean?” The blonde asked, furrowing her brows in concern. But her eyes told you that she already knew what you meant and that made your heart hurt.

“I just-I. It was a long time ago, back in high school. I’m over it but cases like these just bring it all back up, you know?” You sighed, deciding to remain ambiguous whilst knowing full well she knew exactly what you were referring to.

“Oh, baby,” Hailey repeated as she wrapped her free arm around you and pulled you close.

“The guy ended up confessing not long after you left. Voight stuck him in the cage and he ended up having a change of heart.” Hailey told you as she placed soft kisses on your forehead.

Your derived snort was muffled as your head was buried in Hailey’s chest but she heard you and chuckled in response.

“You’re safe now, y/n. You’re safe with me.” Hailey whispered, breaking the peaceful silence that had filled the room.

Her words brought a sense of calm to you as you sighed contently in her arms.

Gently removing the ice pack from your eyes, she put it on the table before lifting your chin up with her finger, bringing you in for a deep, reassuring kiss.

“I-I’m glad you’re in my life, Hailey” You said, catching yourself before you said those three words. You weren’t ready to say them aloud just yet and you had a feeling that your girlfriend felt the same way.

The blonde smiled knowingly, kissing your lips once more before hugging you close to her as you both got comfortable on the large couch you were still on.

“I’m glad to have you in my life too.”

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morganaspendragonss · 4 years ago

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someday, i’ll breathe again

prompted by @mimierose, idea by @theworld-is-out-there. thanks guys, so sorry it took me so long to write! i hope you both like it!

A shout from above grabs their attention, followed by the pounding of feet coming down the stairs towards them. TK’s able to shove Mateo out of the way, but the guy forcefully collides with him as he goes past, his momentum knocking TK off balance and sending him tumbling down the stairs to the landing below.

He lands hard, stars exploding in his vision, the pain in his head masking the sharp sting in his arm.

ao3 | 2.1k | warning for references to needles and past addiction - this is not a relapse fic

The ambulance arrives at the scene just behind the truck, and TK grins when he climbs out, spotting Carlos already deep in conversation with his dad. Nancy hits him as she walks past, any initial reservations she’d had about him joining their team long since forgotten.

“Head out of the bedroom, Strand,” she says, rolling her eyes at his show of offence.

“I’ll have you know my head wasn’t even close to the bedroom,” he protests, following her to the back of the ambulance. It’s not even a lie; he’d actually just been thinking about how much he was looking forward to their movie night later. They haven’t spent much time together properly in a while, shifts rarely lining up, both of them too tired to do much more than sleep when they do.

Becoming a paramedic has meant that some of the danger has gone out of TK’s job, but the workload has increased more than he realised it would. Medical get far more calls than fire in a day, and much as TK loves it, he can’t deny the bone-deep exhaustion at the end of most shifts.

He wouldn’t trade it, though, not for the world.

Nancy sends him a withering look, but she doesn’t get a chance to respond before Tommy’s striding back over to them, having consulted with his dad.

“What are we looking at, Cap?” he asks.

“PD needs some help clearing the building,” she responds. “It’s due to be demolished in a couple of weeks, but there have been some reports of squatters, gangs, local kids, hanging around. They want to make sure everyone’s out, and they want medical on standby just in case. Ordinarily, we’d wait out here, as you know, but Captain Strand and I have agreed that it would be more efficient and useful to have you inside. There might be people in there who don’t have the time to wait to be carried out.”

TK grimaces, hearing Tommy’s implications loud and clear. Her gaze flicks over to him, but she doesn’t comment, and TK tries to pull himself together as she continues laying out the plan.

“We’ll be going in in teams of three - two firefighters, one paramedic. TK, you’re with Judd and Mateo; Nancy, you’re with Marjan and Paul. Captain Strand and I will be waiting out here - keep us updated.”

“Yes, Cap.”

He and Nancy nod, turning to gather supplies into their medical bags. They work silently and efficiently; TK had been surprised by how easy it was to fall into a natural rhythm with his new team, but it feels normal now, like he’s been doing it forever.

Tommy takes his arm before they join the others, pulling him to one side. “You good to do this, Strand?” she asks, voice firm but caring. TK appreciates the thought - he’d told her about his history during his interview in case she wanted to think twice about hiring him - but he knows that he can do this.

He nods, adjusting the strap on his bag. “Yes. I’m good, Cap.”

She smiles. “Good. Now, go, and both of you be safe.”

TK jogs over to the others, arriving just in time to hear Nancy bemoaning him and his distinct lack of driving skill to Marjan.

“That’s so rude, Gillian,” he protests. “I’ll have you know I used to navigate New York traffic and never once got in an accident.”

“And yet you can’t take the ambulance more than five yards without threatening to crash it.”

“I’m surprised he can get it that far,” Judd puts in, which TK thinks is wholly unnecessary. It’s not his fault that the firetruck is totally unmaneuverable, or that the ambulance is only barely better.

He opens his mouth to tell Judd this, but his dad chooses this moment to call them to attention, so he’s forced to settle for a glare directed at the back of Judd’s head.

“You’ll take alternating floors,” Owen tells them. “Judd, Mateo, TK - start on the ground, work your way up through the even numbered levels. Paul, Marjan, Nancy - the same, starting on one and doing the odd floors. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Cap.”

“Good.” Owen looks round at them all, eyes seeming to linger on TK for the briefest second longer. “The structure seems stable, but stay alert. We don’t know what you’re gonna find in there, and I’d like to avoid any injuries. Police will be around for back up if you need them. Good luck.”

They spring into action, heading towards the building as a unit, and TK has to admit that he’s missed this. Doing rescues with the team, adrenaline pumping through his veins, never quite sure what’s going to happen from one moment to the next.

He sticks to the back of their little group, letting Judd and Mateo go ahead of him as they sweep the ground floor. There’s no-one there so they move onto the next level, TK’s nose wrinkling as the smell gets worse the higher up they go. They work without speaking, for the most part, though judging by the numerous backward glances Mateo keeps sending him, TK suspects that it won’t last.

Sure enough, as they’re moving from the fourth floor to the sixth - their last but one target - Mateo falls into step with him.

“It’s been weird since you became a paramedic.”

Ahead of them, Judd groans. “Here we go again.”

“What?” Mateo protests. “It has.”

TK looks between them, curious. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just weird that you’re not on call with us anymore,” he says, shrugging.

“I am literally on call with you right now, Mateo.”

“Yeah, but not with us,” Mateo sighs. “And it’s not like you’re at every call, and you don’t do rescues, and you ride in the ambulance now. I know that this is what you want to do, and that’s really cool, seriously, but it’s just -”

“Weird,” TK finishes, laughing a little. He nudges Mateo with his shoulder. “I get it. It’s been weird for me, too.”

“Really?” He seems surprised, looking over at TK with wide eyes. TK sends him a wry smile.

“Really,” he says. “But -”

A shout from above grabs their attention, followed by the pounding of feet coming down the stairs towards them. The guy - a squatter, more than likely - freezes when he catches sight of them, but only briefly, before continuing to barrel down to them. TK’s able to shove Mateo out of the way, but the guy forcefully collides with him as he goes past, his momentum knocking TK off balance and sending him tumbling down the stairs to the landing below.

He groans, vision swimming as he attempts to push himself upright. His bag is lying a couple of feet away, contents spilling everywhere, and the thought crosses his mind that Captain Vega’s going to be pissed if he loses anything. He tries to get to his feet to collect it all, but the pounding in his head quickly informs him that’s not happening any time soon.

Judd and Mateo’s faces appear in front of him, their mouths moving but no words coming out. Or… That’s not right. TK focuses as best he can, trying to blink some of the haziness from his mind.

Eventually, their voices reach him, as though underwater. “You with us, brother?” Judd asks, worry evident in his tone.

TK nods, then instantly regrets it as another wave of dizziness washes over him. Hands grasp his shoulders, pulling him up to rest against the wall, and it’s then that he notices a sharp sting in his right arm. He must have cut it on something, which isn’t ideal, given how dirty everything is here.

“Alright,” Judd says, his voice clearer this time. “I’m gonna need you to focus up for me, okay? You’re the paramedic here; you’ve gotta tell us what to do.”

TK huffs a small laugh, closing his eyes and taking a moment to clear the fuzz in his brain. “Definitely have a concussion,” he mutters. “Must have hit my head on the way down.”

He hasn’t opened his eyes yet, but he can feel Judd’s eye roll. “Yeah, no shit. It don’t look too bad, though; you’ve got a bit of a scrape on your cheek, but it seems fine. Hurt anywhere else?”

TK hums, doing a mental check. His entire body aches in some capacity, and he’s probably going to be bruised as hell tomorrow, but his cut is the only other injury he can detect. “Arm,” he says. “Think I cut it on something. Glass, maybe?”

Judd pushes his sleeve up, then sucks in a sharp breath. “Aw, shit, kid,” he murmurs, and TK gets the distinct impression he wasn’t meant to hear that. “Probie, let the captains know? Then go join the others; tell them they’ll have to finish the rest of the building themselves.”

TK frowns, forcing his eyes open. Mateo’s moved too far away for him to hear whatever he’s radioing in, so he turns to Judd instead, panic flaring at the pained look in his eyes. “What? What’s going on?”

Judd hesitates. “That wasn’t, um. That wasn’t glass you landed on, kid.” He shifts, carefully picking something up from the floor, pursing his lips before holding it up for TK to see.

A needle.

All the air feels like it’s sucked out of the room, a band tightening around his chest as his eyes blow wide, fixating on the object in front of him. His heart is racing and his thoughts are scrambled in a way that has nothing to do with the concussion because he just landed on a needle, oh god.

And TK had never been one for any of that stuff, not like some of his friends at the time were, but sober is sober, and he can’t lose that, he can’t, he won’t -

“You haven’t, okay? Just breathe, brother, that’s it. Breathe.”

Judd’s words reach him from far away. TK wants to comply, but his body doesn’t feel like his own, and his shaking fingers scrabble frantically at his uniform collar, the choking sensation only getting worse. A distant noise lets him know that Judd is still talking, and TK tries to latch onto that, leaning into the solid and grounding presence at his side.

Slowly, the panic starts to subside. He still feels on edge, weak and shaky, but he can breathe again, which counts for something.

“Sorry,” he gasps out when he’s able.

Judd’s mouth twists into a grimace. “None of that, now. You okay?”

TK nods, though he doubts it’s very convincing. “I will be,” he amends. “Give me a minute.”

At that moment, Judd’s radio crackles to life. “Ryder, what’s your status?” his dad’s voice says, very carefully professional.

Judd looks over to him. “Think you can stand?”

At TK’s nod, he grasps his radio. “Me and TK are on our way out, Cap,” he reports. “Be with you in a few.”

“Copy that.”

TK groans, taking a shaking breath before planting his hands on the floor, attempting to heave himself upright. He makes it to a half-crouch before his balance gives out, and it’s only Judd’s reflexes that save him from face planting the ground again.

“Jesus, TK,” Judd sighs. “Let me help you.”

His tone leaves no room for argument - not that TK could put up much of a fight at the moment if he tried. He leans his weight on Judd, letting him do most of the work to get them down the stairs and out of the building.

“Sorry for freaking out on you,” he murmurs. “I just…”

“I know, kid,” Judd says softly. “You’re alright, though.”

TK doesn’t say anything, not entirely convinced that Judd is right, but comforted by the sentiment anyway. It’s not until they’re nearing the ground floor that he realises something else, and it’s almost enough to make him want to turn back.

“This is going to be so embarrassing.”

Judd frowns. “What?”

He points between his head and his arm with his good hand. “I’m going to have to go to hospital to get these checked out.” He sighs. “A paramedic needing a ride in his own ambulance. I’m never going to live this down.”

Judd laughs, long and loud, and it’s enough to make a smile tug at TK’s own lips. “You’re something else, kid,” he says, gently ruffling TK’s hair.

TK grumbles and bats him away, but his heart isn’t in it. He’s never been more thankful for Judd, truth be told, and he knows he can trust him to understand. And as they head outside, TK starts to believe that maybe Judd was right after all.

They’ll be alright, in the end.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #lone star #911ls #tk strand #judd ryder #mateo chavez #nancy gillian #tommy vega #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userjillian #tuserjamie #userkimmy #tuserpaige #tuserjenny #reyeslonestartag

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puckluck28 · 4 years ago

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A Merry Upstead Christmas!

This one is for my lovely Chicago PD Secret Santa recipient @upsteadhc for the prompt: “any prompt from an angst or fluff list” so I figured what’s better than an Upstead pregnancy oneshot. A little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff, I hope you enjoy it! Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday Season!

*The prompts I’ve used are highlighted in bold.

For Better or For Worse, Even When Pregnant

Hailey glanced at their front from her spot on the couch in their dimly lit living room before checking the time on her phone for what felt like the hundredth time. At reading the numbers that read 1:28 AM plastered over her background that was a photo of her and Jay from their gender reveal party a few months ago, she sighed and took another sip from her now semi-cold tea. Fighting the urge to close her eyes with each passing moment, she’d been hoping for a voice mail, a quick text, something, anything that would give her enough relief so she could at least attempt to sleep, but there was nothing, and the wait was driving her crazy. Since their last call, there was an uncomfortable feeling eating at her insides, something in the pit of her stomach that had been growing for a few days, and she knew it wasn’t just her nerves growing from being only a week away from her due date. She’d gotten this same feeling a few times in the past few years, and she prayed to God that this time wasn’t like those other times.

Where the hell are you, Jay?

The unit had caught a big case a week ago: a dead pregnant girl that led the team to an international human and child trafficking ring smuggling young girls from all around the world into the States, forcing them to get pregnant, and selling the babies to God knows what kind of people. It was an understatement to say it was a rough case, even for Intelligence’s standards, and from the limited information Hailey knew about it from her lunch dates with Jay at the precinct, and the occasional calls and visits from Kim and Vanessa so Hailey wouldn’t actually lose her mind staying at home, it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park to solve.

On a regular night, Hailey wouldn’t worry about Jay staying late to go over evidence or to work on paperwork, especially while they were working a new case, but this time felt different. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something about the way Jay had been especially quiet at home the past few days, those days that he had actually made it home before Hailey went to bed. It was almost as if he had been trying to avoid her, and successfully so. Then there were his texts: one word answers after taking forever to respond, that was if he responded. It wasn’t like she was expecting immediate responses or constant texting either. She knew that whenever a big case, especially something this big hit, it was all hands on deck with no room for distraction, but she at least expected a response, any response, when she asked if he’d be coming home for dinner, or if he was okay.

Now, having been partners with Jay for seven years, dated for two of those and married for one, Hailey could tell when a case, or someone, was irking him. So when he had started acting a little off the first time, she had given it to the combination of the caseload and having to work with a new partner now that she was officially on maternity leave, and done with desk duty, as per Voight and Platt’s orders. Jay’d been looking to find something to complain about his new partner from the day Voight had brought in Detective Aiden Thomas, a freshly minted detective from narcotics, as Hailey’s temporary replacement. Whether it was the way the young detective tabbed evidence files or the way he sipped his coffee during stakeouts, Jay found an excuse to text her, whining about being stuck with the new kid. So when the texts got more staggered and eventually stopped, Hailey had started getting suspicious and when she hit absolute radio silence the entire day that day, with no luck during the night either, Hailey knew it was time to call in back-up.

Around 10:00pm or so, Will had been the first person on her call list, not wanting to alert anyone on the team just yet if the older Halstead could reassure her enough to get that sleep she oh so craved. It also helped that she knew that Will was on call that night, him having shared his work schedule with Hailey since she was so close to her due date and who knew where Jay would be if she went into labor. Unlike his younger brother, Will had picked up Hailey’s call in two short rings. “Hailey? What’s up? Are you okay? Is it the baby?” He had asked in doctor mode.

“Yea, we’re good. I was calling to see if you heard anything from Jay today?”

“Jay? He was here this morning to talk to an injured suspect but that’s about it.”

“Did you realize anything off with him?”

“Not that I could tell. He and his new partner were in and out. I didn’t even see them leaving.” Hailey sighed in defeat at her brother-in-law’s response. She had really hoped he would say something that would ease her growing nerves. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yea, yea things are fine.” Hailey took a deep breath. “I just haven’t heard from him the whole day and he hasn’t come home yet and…” Her voice trailed off as her words died.

“I can-”

“No, that’s alright.” She cut him off, turning down his offer. “I don’t want him to worry if they are working.”

“You sure?”

“Yea, knowing Jay, he’ll think I’m in labor or something and freak out.” She attempted at a joke to hide her worry.

“You know, it would teach him not to ignore his pregnant wife.” That even earned a soft chuckle from Hailey.

“Thanks, Will. It’s not even that late, I’m sure it’s just me being paranoid.” She tried brushing it off. “You know how much I love staying home all day.”

“Don’t I know it?” Will went along even though he knew that for Hailey to be calling him, she must have a good reason to worry. “You and Jay are the worst people at enjoying doing nothing.”

“Yea, I’m ready to go back to work once your niece finally graces us with her presence.” She told him, her hands instinctively rubbing her 38, almost 39, week along belly at the thought of finally getting to meet her baby.

“I’d be careful wishing on that this close to your due date, Hailey. It might happen any day now.” He jokingly warned her, hoping he was providing some comfort with this distraction.

“I think it’s safe to say when it happens, you’ll be one of the first ones to know. I guess the first one to know if it happens during this call.” Hailey responded, though the only thing she could think of as silence fell was what she’d do if she were to go into labor now and Jay was nowhere to be found.

“Regardless, you know I’m here if you need me.” Will broke the silence.

“Thanks, Will. I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Alright, but seriously, call me if you need anything. I’ll be up all night.”

“I will. Thanks, again. Good luck with your shift.”

“Any time. Now stop worrying about that knucklehead and try to get some sleep.” Will jokingly ordered and with a mumble of agreement, Hailey hung up. Sleep… She really hoped she’d be able to get a little bit of it that night.

She’d given him about an hour after calling Will, called and texted a few times, but when those had gone unanswered once again, she’d moved to the next person on her list and called Kim, really hoping that they were really just working late and she wasn’t waking her up. “Hey, Hails, everything okay?” Like Will, Kim picked up the call in a few rings. It was almost as if everyone who knew Hailey was on call to answer her calls except for her husband.

“Hey, sorry I’m calling so late. Am I interrupting anything?”

“No, no, actually Kev just came back from a coffee run so I was taking a break.” Kim answered, followed by a yawn.

“Case wearing you down?”

“It’s a bad one. We found two of our suspects, who of course didn’t go down without a fight. One of them took a bullet to the knee so we are waiting for Med to release him into our custody when he’s done and the other’s downstairs.” Another yawn. “But looks like it’s gonna be a rough night. Well, I guess morning.”

“Everyone okay?” Hailey asked after hearing that their suspect had put up a fight. If he had gotten shot, it meant that he had started the shooting, and her heart started racing thinking all the worst case scenarios. Surely she would have been notified if something serious had happened to Jay, but with the way he had been so distant lately, maybe that had been it: he had gotten injured and was avoiding her calls.

“Everyone’s good, came out without a scratch.” Hailey released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Hey, is everything okay with you?” Kim asked upon hearing Hailey’s loud exhale of breath. “Oh my god are you in labor?”

“No, everything’s good here. No baby just yet.” She answered quickly, getting that out of the way. “I was calling to see if Jay’s around. I’ve tried calling him a few times but his phone kept going to voicemail, but I guess you guys are busy so I’ll let you go.”

“Ummm, Hails, Jay left a while ago.”

“Oh?” Kim’s answer took Hailey by surprise, an unpleasant one. She lost her train of thoughts and stuttered as she tried finding the words to ask her next question. “Did he- umm, did he say where he was going?”

“No, sorry. We all figured he was gonna go home and get some sleep. It’s been a rough day for him.”

“What happened? Is he okay?” It felt weird to not know that Jay’d had a rough day. It felt weird being the one to ask what was happening with him.

“One of the suspects we caught turned out to be ex-military. Someone Jay knew back in the day.” Kim told her. “I think Jay was hoping the lead would turn out to be bogus since his name came up a few days ago but…” The rest was obvious. Finding out an old buddy involved in such a disgusting case must have taken a toll on him, and understandably so. What Hailey couldn’t figure out was why he hadn’t talked to her about it, and the question hurt her more than she thought it would. “Jay must have gone on a drive or something. I’m sure he’s on his way home though.”

“Yea, yea, you’re right. I’ve probably just been losing my mind from having to stay home.” She tried laughing it off again, just like she had done it with Will, but this new found

“Oh, tell me about it! A few days is enough to drive you insane.” Kim commented, as bittersweet it was, remembering having to stay back during her short lived pregnancy so many years ago.

“Oh yea.” Hailey tried acting her usual chipper self but the fake smile plastered on her face failed to reach her voice. “Anyway, I should let you enjoy your break.”

“You sure everything’s okay?”

“Yea, yea, everything’s fine. I’m getting pretty tired anyway and you guys are busy.” She added a fake yawn to her sentence which made Kim yawn as well. “Thanks for the conversation.”

“You want one of us to drop by? I know Kevin’s about to head home for a quick nap and-”

“No, that’s fine.” Hailey cut her friend off before she could finish the sentence. “It’s pretty late.”

“Alright, well Adam, V and I are gonna be staying here tonight if you need anything. Just give us a call, alright?”

“Thanks, Kim. I really appreciate it. Enjoy your break and good luck!”

“Good night, Hails.” The line went dead, leaving Hailey to her thoughts, wondering where her husband was, worst case scenarios running through her head. The last time he had gone awol, he’d gotten kidnapped, shot and almost died. She couldn’t go through that again. Not now. Not when they were about to have it all. With tears in her eyes, Hailey swore he would never forgive Jay if he left them alone.

About another hour or so later, the clock almost hitting three in the morning, Hailey was just about ready to give up, go to bed. She was exhausted, achy, and really, all she wanted was to know that Jay was safe. They could deal with this, whatever it was, in the morning. Hell she didn't even care if it meant that he’d continue avoiding her, and she’d have to wobble to the precinct in her pajamas. That being said, she knew sleep was her enemy tonight and the moment she would decide to go to bed, the oh so tempting sleep that had been trying to pull her into dreamland would disappear the moment her head’d hit the pillow. Not that sleep was really an option with their daughter kicking up a storm in her belly either.

“It’s okay, munchkin.” Hailey rubbed the spot she kept feeling the kicks. “It’s all gonna be okay.” Realizing she had no tea left, she threw her blankets off and stood up to stretch. If she was going to stay up, she needed to keep herself otherwise occupied. “Let’s get mommy some tea and you some of those cookies you crave so much.”

Hailey was about to head to the kitchen to get herself another cup of tea and get a snack when the sound of the door opening startled her. Her head instinctively turned towards the source of the noise, and watched frozen as Jay’s silent silhouette moved in the foyer. She held her breath as her eyes followed his every move: The way he snuck into his own house, the way he took his jacket and shoes off as quietly as possible, thinking Hailey was already asleep, the way he tiptoed further into the dark house. Watching his arm reach for living room light switch, Hailey prepared herself to face their current situation, and when the lights turned on, bringing the couple face to face, a loud silence surrounded them. “Hails? Why are you awake? Everything okay? Is it the baby?” Jay listed his questions, alarmed.

“Yea, yea we are fine but I guess I should be the one asking you that.” Hailey shot back, needing him to know that what happened today was NOT okay. “What’s going on, Jay?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’m fine.” He gave her his staple bullshit of an answer as he walked further in and towards her in the living room. “Just a long day at work.”

“Well, I know for a fact you’re not “fine��, so wanna try again?” Hailey crossed her arms over her chest, her words stopping him on his tracks to walk over to greet her.

“I-” He started but seemed to be at a loss of words.

“Jay, I’m worried about you.” She cut him off at the realization that he needed a push before he’d really open up. “You haven’t picked up your phone or answered any of my texts and I had to find out from Kim that you had a rough day. What’s going on?”

“Hails, I’m just really tired and just want to go to sleep.” He was hiding behind an excuse, but at least it was an honest one, and Hailey considered that a good start.

“Alright, if that’s what you want, we can go to bed. I’m glad you’re safely home.” She told him with a flat yet soft tone. She didn’t want to discourage him from opening up, but his actions had terrified and hurt her, and she couldn’t just pretend that it was all fine now that he was home. “But we are gonna talk about this, Jay.” She added, letting him know he wasn’t off the hook. “What happened today, the radio silence… The last time that happened, I almost lost you and the thought of losing you, especially while I can’t even be out there,” The memory of what Angela Nelson put them through hitting her straight in the pregnancy hormones and feelings, she could feel tears welling in her eyes, but she wouldn’t cry. She refused to. “It, it terrified me,” She looked down her body in an attempt to avoid his eyes and blink away the tears as she protectively put both her hands on her bulging belly. “It terrified us.” She sighed. “We, we have to talk about it.”

“I can’t do anything right, can I?” Jay muttered more to himself than Hailey, disappointed in himself. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew he shouldn’t have pushed Hailey away, but this case, these past few days, then what happened in the morning… It had brought up so many painful memories, so much rage, so much fear that he simply hadn’t known where to start. “You must hate me for what I put you through today, huh?”

“I don’t hate you, Jay. I will never hate you.” Hailey’s voice softened. “But I hate that after all this, you’re still trying to lie to me.”

“Hails…”

“Yes, Jay?”

“This case has been terrifying.” He started to confess. “When we found that pregnant girl, the way her body was left behind, all I could think of was you and what I would do if I found you like that.” He was finally opening up. “Then we found out that one of the suspects is an old army buddy of mine and when we interviewed him today…” He shook his head, the memory of the interrogation room replaying in his mind and he collapsed on the couch in defeat. “He looked me in the eyes and said “You’d make pretty babies. Should consider changing careers.” with the smuggest smile, and Hailey, the things I wanted to do to him for bringing our kid into it… And then all my anger turned into this fear of failing you and Aislyn and, God, Hailey, it paralyzed me. I couldn’t think of anything else.”

“Jay,” She got it. She really did, but the silence and distance had hurt. “Holding everything in doesn’t help you know.” She told him as she walked over to take a seat next to him and put a supportive hand on his back. “Why didn’t you tell me what was happening?”

“I know I should have.” He looked at her with tear sheathed eyes, his greens tired and broken. “I mean I know I could have come to you. I trust you more than I ever trust myself, but I didn’t want to worry you especially with how close you are to your due date. It felt like by burdening you with my worries, I’d be failing you two before we even became parents.”

“I understand, Jay, but not knowing what was going on with you and having to call our friends and family only to find out from Kim that you’ve been having a rough time with this case worried me so much. I felt like an outsider and not your wife and best friend.” She took a deep breath, giving Jay some time to process her words. “Your worries and fears and rage will never be a burden on me, Jay. We said for better or for worse when we said I do. Being pregnant doesn’t change that.”

“God, I love you and I’m so damn sorry.” Jay pulled Hailey into his body and apologized with a broken voice upon realizing how much he had hurt her. The last thing he wanted to do had been to hurt her, but he realized trying to not be a burden was more hurtful to their partnership than anything. “I promise I’ll do better.”

“I know you will.” Hailey snuggled into his embrace before turning in his arms to be able to look him in the eyes again. “I love you, Jay.” She cupped his cheek in her one hand, and grabbed and guided his hand to rest over her belly with her other. “We love you. Unconditionally. Just remember that the next time you feel overwhelmed and I’m not there.” Feeling their daughter’s kicks under their palms, Jay leaned down to press a kiss on her lips; a kiss meant to seal his promise, to show his love, to give them both hope that they were stronger for facing their challenges.

Their last few days had really taken a toll on both of them, but with everything out in the open now, and promises of love and hope had been made, they knew they could tackle anything as long as they trusted in each other, even when they didn’t trust themselves.

So when they finally got into bed, tightly holding one another close, their daughter’s soft movements between them, they finally got the relieved rest they had been needing that day.

- @puckluck28

#cpd!ss2020 #chicagopd #chicago pd #upstead #one chicago #hailey upton #jay halstead #haileyupton #jayhalstead #jayxhailey #haileyxjay

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

7 Secrets <pt. 5>

GENRE: Soulmate!au BTS!

WARNINGS: none woohoo

WORD COUNT: 5594 lol sorry there was a lot to get through here but at the same time I'm not sorry

Part 5!!!! You guys I had so much fun writing this part. We are getting down to it. I’m literally so excited. Let me know what you guys think! Thanks for all the support! Also, if you guys have any requests for future stories regarding our boys, hit me up! <3

Minsuh is already waiting for me by the time I exit the building, and I slide into the passenger seat as quickly as possible.

“What’s going on? I have a missed call from Mr. Bang. Should I call him back right now?”

Minsuh looks over at me, and I pause at the look in her eyes. My stomach drops as I expect the worst. Even in the dim interior lighting of her car, I can see just how pale her face is.

“Beth…”

We’re still idling in front of the building, but I feel the whole world spinning around me too quickly.

“Minsuh, what’s going on? Did something happen?” I take a shaky breath. “Are the boys alright?”

Minsuh is quick to reach out and grab my hand, and I notice the tremor in her hand as I cling tightly to her.

“They’re fine, I’m so sorry, I should have clarified sooner.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. If something were to happen to the boys...I can’t finish that thought.

“Then what’s going on?”

Minsuh shakes her head, turning to face forward again before beginning to drive. Even though I feel immense relief knowing that the boys are alright, now I’m beginning to imagine other scenarios. Why would Mr. Bang call me? He never does unless it’s a schedule call to update me on something.

“Bang wanted to call us tonight, but it was a last minute thing. So he did, and we talked.” I wait for her to continue, and she looks like she’s struggling to even speak right now. “We wanted to wait for you, so he didn’t say much…”

“Well, what did he say? Does he want me to call him?”

“No, he’s still on Facetime with everybody. That’s why I came to get you, though. He said it’s really important and that everybody needs to be present.”

I run a hand through my hair, ignoring how it shakes. This morning when I felt so calm and happy seems like years ago.

“Wait, what did he say though?” I realize that Minsuh has done an excellent job at avoiding the question, which does nothing to quell my fears.

She simply shakes her head, focusing on the road. “I don’t think it’s my place to say, but I swear it’s good news. I’m just shaken up. That’s all.”

Good news? I highly doubt it’s that good if Minsuh looks like she’s about to pass out. In fact, she probably shouldn’t even be driving.

What on earth could Mr. Bang want? And so suddenly?

Of course, my mind wants to scream out at me it’s time it’s finally time, but I shove that voice down. I’ve been through too many close calls thinking that I was finally going to come face to face with my soulmate only to be shut down. That kind of thinking only ends up in heartache.

The drive that should have taken much longer than it did (Minsuh is definitely speeding), is suddenly coming to an end as I recognize the Udon place we ate at last night just a couple of blocks away from the apartment. With every passing second I feel like I’m speeding closer and closer to fate. My right foot reacts instinctively as it pumps the brakes only to realize that I can’t.

I realize for the second time in my life that I cannot control fate when it comes knocking. The only thing that I can control is myself.

By the time we park I’ve been practicing my breathing exercises, trying to get my rapid heart rate under control. The street is peaceful, the evening stars just peeking through the bright lights of the city.

Standing there just outside my apartment, I gaze up at the night sky and breathe. In and out, deeply. I cling to the sliver of peace that settles upon me, promising myself that no matter what happens tonight, the stars will still be there. Tonight, tomorrow, and beyond. Fate may toss whatever it wants at me, but the stars will not fail me.

A soft touch at my elbow alerts me to Minsuh’s presence, and she looks at me for a moment before wrapping her arms around me in a hug. I return the embrace, absorbing the unspoken love and support.

“Shall we?” I ask. Minsuh nods, linking her arm through mine as we enter the apartment.

I’m not sure what I expect to see when I go inside, but I know it wasn’t Bang PD’s face staring out at me from our television. Somebody must have connected their phone to the tv to make it easier for all seven of us to take the call.

“Ah, Bethany, how kind of you to stop by.” Mr. Bang’s warm tone carries the innocent-sounding sarcasm we often use with each other. I smirk up at him and I take off my shoes and hurry over to the couch, taking a place between Minsuh and Himari.

“I saw you called me. Sorry I missed it, some of us have work to do.” Mr. Bang grins down at me, and I hear Seohyun give out a strained chuckle. A quick observation shows everybody to be in a similar state to Minsuh. In fact, it looks like Minsuh is better off than most of them. Probably the reason why they sent her to pick me up in the first place.

Mr. Bang clears his throat, drawing my attention back to him. He’s looking beyond his screen, and my heart stutters as I wonder who else is in the room with him.

Please not Namjoon, please not Namjoon.

“So what’s going on? You don’t tend to call without scheduling it first.”

Himari slowly moves her arm until it’s linked through mine, her hand gently squeezing my forearm. I glance at her but her eyes remain glued to the tv.

“Well, remember that conversation we had a little while back, when you requested that I give you a 48 hour notice before meeting your soulmate so you could have enough time to catch a flight to Antarctica?”

I swear I hear a surprised laugh in the background of the call, but the pounding of my heart in my ears overpowers any other sound at the moment.

Breathe, now is not the time to pass out. Remember, that’s Aera’s job.

“Uh-huh,” I mumble out, then remind myself to not look like a zombie. “Yeah, I remember. Why do I get the feeling that I’m once again the last person to know about something important?”

When a few of the girls come out of their trances enough to chuckle knowingly, I suddenly lose the ability to move. Instead I sit there completely still, awaiting Mr. Bang.

Awaiting fate.

Which, in most cases, Mr. Bang and fate are pretty synonymous for me.

“Yeah, sorry about that. You’re just hard to get a hold of sometimes.” When I have no snarky reply for him, he continues. “Ok, Bethany. Consider this your 48 hour notice.”

It takes about five seconds for the weight of that sentence to really sink in.

I always thought that when I was given the long awaited news that I would shortly meet my soulmate, the world would slip away from under me and I would feel like I was floating among the stars. I would be happy, shocked, I don’t know. I would just float there and Namjoon would be the only one to bring me back to earth. Him, and only him. It would be beautiful, and that would be the beginning of everything.

Instead, the world suddenly comes into focus.

I’m blatantly aware of everything surrounding me. It’s like I’m seeing the living room for the first time, seeing the girls for the first time as they turn to assess my reaction. Everything is so tangible, so real.

I can’t tell if it makes me feel small or empowered or just extremely human. Whatever it is, I pull through the shock settling into my bones just enough to slip back into that sarcastic charm I’ve relied so heavily upon all my life.

“Alrighty then,” I mumble, frowning slightly when it comes out in English. Mr. Bang simply grins again. I get up from the couch, the sudden urge to move and feel the ground beneath me impossible to resist. “48 hours? I could probably pull some strings, make it to Antarctica in time. You don’t happen to have any pilot friends, do you?”

Tension that I didn’t know what there before fades from Mr. Bang’s face as he laughs at my ridiculous question. Again, his eyes trail away to look beyond his screen. Who is he looking at? I can’t muster up the courage to ask. Instead, I slip into professional mode. It’s easy enough, seeing as I was just in my meeting this afternoon, slipping into the same persona.

Right. This is just a meeting. We need to hash out the date and time, location. Just like any other meeting. Make it through this meeting, Beth, and then you can do whatever you need to do.

“Ok, I’m assuming that you already told everybody else all of this before I got here?”

“Yes, I did. Sorry, I couldn’t wait.”

“That’s fine. Did you already go over what time? Where?”

Mr. Bang straightens up at my tone, a flicker of an emotion similar to respect in his eyes. “No, I haven’t yet. Would you like to now?”

I nod, then scurry off to where I dropped my bag when I entered. Grabbing my phone from my purse and pulling up the notes app, I settle back down on the couch beside Himari.

“How are you not losing your mind right now?” Himari whispers beside me, so quietly that I almost don’t hear her.

I shoot her an amused look. “Because I think I already died.” I whisper back, and it’s enough to get her to laugh, some of the icy nerves retreating a bit. (and then returning as I remember that we’ve still got our microphones on for the documentary and they caught every word)

I shrug it off, bringing my attention back to the matter at hand.“Alright, let’s hear it.”

↔

The rest of the call passes by in a blur, with Mr. Bang sending us an email with all the needed details. He carefully goes through each point, giving an outline of what awaits the seven of us the day after tomorrow.

Which, as I notice that it’s already nearly 11 pm, is going to be here sooner than I think I want.

“So just go ahead and come up to my office on Thursday, and I’ll be there to help you out with everything else. Sounds good?”

Everybody numbly nods, the emotional exhaustion setting in. I can’t help but grin as I realize with a start that I was given the news about having a soulmate on a Thursday three years ago, and now I’ll finally meet him on a Thursday.

It would appear that fate has a thing for Thursdays.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to just drive there? It’s not that far from here.” I ask the question for the second time. It’s nice that he wants to send a van from the BigHit building, but it just makes me feel a little silly. Like we’re famous or something. Which, when I see Ichika sitting at her usual spot on the floor with a bowl of cereal at her feet, I note that we are anything but famous. I don’t even know when she got up to get cereal.

At least she’s eating. I’m not sure I can stomach anything right now.

“Don’t worry about it, please. I know that it’s going to be a stressful day for everybody, the last thing you need to worry about is driving. The van will be there at 5 pm sharp, just be ready.”

I nod, letting it go. It will be nice to not have to worry about driving, even though it’s only a half hour drive from here. I’ll just have to find something productive to do all day so I’m not losing my mind.

“Ok. That’s fine. Is there anything else?” I hide behind a yawn that quickly passes to Himari at my side.

“That should be everything. Double check the email in the morning after you’ve all rested, and let me know if you need anything.” Mr. Bang sighs, clearly as worn out as we are. “We’re all excited to see you.”

We. “By we you mean you and the staff, right?” I jokingly ask, earning a laugh.

“Obviously. And maybe a few other people as well. See you Thursday?”

“See you Thursday.”

He cuts the call, leaving the seven of us alone in the dimly lit room. I stand up, prepared to pace, but find that I’m too tired to even try. I end up laying down on the ground, staring up at the ceiling.

“Ok,” I start, running my hands through my hair for the fourteenth time tonight. “Can someone please explain to me what just happened?”

The others grunt in agreement, each of us just as much in shock as the other.

It’s silent for a couple of minutes as each of us try to process our thoughts. I close my eyes, mind going a million miles a minute as I try to fathom that after all this waiting, I’m finally going to meet my soulmate.

A sniffle breaks the silence, and my head shoots up as I see Minsuh with her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she quietly sobs.

Everybody is quick to move, all of us surrounding her in a matter of seconds. Aera gently massages her shoulders before leaning forward and nuzzling her face into her neck.

“What’s wrong, Min?” Aera questions, and we exchange knowing glances.

“It’s just,” Minsuh continues crying into her sweater paws, the sight making my heart ache. “What if h-he’s disappointed? I just don-don’t want to disappoint him. I thought I would h-have more time…” Her sobs cut off the rest of her sentence, and my heart cracks on her behalf.

“Oh, Minsuh.”

“You’re not going to disappoint him, I promise.”

“Minsuh, you’re the best of us,” Ichika softly whispers, brushing the hair out of her face. “There’s no way Jungkook could be disappointed. Why do you think Bang PD called so suddenly? I bet Jungkook found out about you and couldn’t wait a second longer to have you in his life.”

Minsuh slowly looks up at Ichika, her eyes red and puffy. “You think so? I don’t think so. Do you think they even know about us yet? Maybe Mr. Bang hasn’t told them yet, a-and we’re just going to be an unwelcome surprise.”

I wince at her words, her fears similar to my own.

Ichika shakes her head firmly, her hand resting just beneath Minsuh’s chin as she looks into her eyes.

“Absolutely not. Minsuh, that’s not going to happen. You know what’s going to happen?” Minsuh shakes her head ‘no’, her eyes wide. “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. We’re going to meet our boys,” Ichika’s voice wavers with emotion, but she continues on. “And it’s going to be the best, most memorable day of our lives. We are going to go together, because we’re sisters and we have each other’s backs through thick and thin. We’re going to walk in there and see them and you know what’s going to happen? Aera’s going to pass out, Soon is going to lose the ability to speak,” Soon chuckles, nodding her head in agreement. “Himari is probably going to trip over her own feet, I’m going to spill something on Taehyung, I’m certain about that. I’m not sure what Beth is going to do, but I can guarantee it’s going to be something embarrassing. Very, very embarrassing.” I gasp, pinching her. “Ow! And Seohyun is going to burst into song or something and not be able to stop.” Minsuh bites her lip, a little smile gracing her features. “But you know what? You’re probably going to waltz in there like a freaking princess, and Jungkook is going to be in absolute shock. You’ll make up for all of our clumsiness, and you’ll be so amazing because you already are.”

The seven of us stay like that for a long time, Minsuh’s quiet sobs finally subsiding some time later. At some point she falls asleep, and Aera curls up on the couch next to her, quickly following suit.

Seohyun gets up to go make some tea, Ichika offering to help.

“I’m making chamomile, to help me sleep. Anybody else want some?” The rest of us request it, knowing that we won’t be able to fall asleep as easily as Minsuh and Aera. Not when I keep startling myself every five seconds as I suddenly remember that I’m meeting my soulmate in less than two days.

Himari pats the cushion next to her, and I settle down with a grunt. She flops her head onto my shoulder, and we both stare out the far window into the street. Kyung-soon takes up a spot on the floor at our feet.

“I don’t think I’ll really be able to believe it’s happening until we’re there, actually meeting them,” Himari says.

“Me neither,” Kyung-soon fiddles with her blanket. “Do you think they’re freaking out as much as we are?”

“Oh definitely,” Himari chuckles.

The thought of the boys sitting together and talking like we are now warms me up like hot chocolate.

“Oh, no. What am I going to wear?” I wonder aloud. Everybody else groans in agreement. “Anybody down to go shopping tomorrow?” I ask, already mentally planning an outfit. Everybody is quick to agree.

By the time Ichika and Seohyun arrive with the tea, Aera has roused from her sleep, rubbing her neck.

“Were you guys talking about going shopping?”

Slowly but surely, the heavy shock begins to lift and a lighter feeling replaces it. As I look around the room at my soul sisters, a little pang of nostalgia strikes me. This is one of the last times we’ll be like this. Just the seven of us, with so much uncertainty hanging over us. I wonder how many times I’ll revisit this memory of us sitting together in the middle of the night, entertaining ideas about the boys, outfits, and all the possibilities life has yet to offer us. Future nostalgia indeed.

By the time we actually do decide to go to bed, it’s already 4:30 in the morning. The conversation had taken many different turns throughout the night, including all of us eventually talking about our concerns. We’re excited, yet so afraid.

Aera and I sneak up the stairs as quietly as possible, careful to not wake Minsuh who’s still sleeping on the couch.

“Hey,” Aera whispers before I slip into the darkness of my room. “You didn’t really say a lot about how you’re feeling with everything. Are you sure you’re ok?”

I nod slowly, exhaustion painting itself over my features. “I’m fine, I think. To be honest I think I’m so tired and shocked still that I don’t even know what to feel at this point.” Aera nods along, understanding perfectly. “Maybe I’ll know after I sleep. I think I’m happy, though. And terrified.”

“A great combination.”

“Yep. See you at breakfast.”

Aera raises her eyebrows at me. “Breakfast? I don’t think so. I’ll see you at lunch.”

↔

For the second day in a row I wake up after 10. I blearily open my eyes, checking the time and grunting in indifference. I roll over again, trying to talk myself into sleeping in a little longer. I deserve it. Jet-lag, emotional exhaustion, and staying up until nearly 5 in the morning have done quite the number on me.

I’m nearly asleep again when I sit up straight in my bed, my brain remembering the reason why I was up so late last night.

“Holy freak, holy freak.”

Was that real? I’m still so tired that it feels like a dream.

I scramble to my bedside table again, pulling up my emails on my phone. Sure enough, the email Bang PD sent last night is still there. My eyes drink in the information as quickly as possible, triple checking the date before I finally allow myself to breathe again.

Oh yeah, it’s real. And it’s tomorrow.

The need to get up and move around is suffocating me, my heart already pounding like I’m running a marathon. I slip into the nearest clothes I can get my hands on, the blouse and jeans making me look way more put together than I feel, and I rush to the bathroom to throw my hair back into a ponytail and slap the bare minimum of makeup on my face.

I'm in such a rush that I nearly forget to brush my teeth, and before I know it I’m tiptoeing down the stairs and past Minsuh’s sleeping form still on the couch. I have no idea how she’s been able to sleep this long, I definitely envy her.

Before my brain even catches up with my body, I’ve grabbed my purse and shoes by the front door and slipped out into the morning. The second the door clicks shut behind me, I breathe in deep, closing my eyes as the sun warms me up.

It’s much easier to process everything once I’m outside of the apartment and back in the real world. My feet make their way about three blocks away, to a street vendor that I frequent on the days I have morning meetings.

There are a couple of free benches on the sidewalk, and I sit there as I eat my breakfast. I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon, and my stomach is probably what really took control this morning. However, it’s still not enough to make me finish all of my food. I eat about half before I stop, my brain grinding its gears again now that I have some food in me.

As I watch the hustle and bustle of the city all around me, I feel like I’m in some sort of limbo. Everybody is going about their normal business, oblivious to the fact that my life is at a hinge-point and I’m not sure which way it's about to swing.

Try as I might, I’m still restless. There’s not much I can do to help that, I’m sure I’ll be like this until I’ve met my soulmate and put my worries to rest. I wonder if Namjoon is up and as restless and me right now.

Minsuh’s words from last night come back to haunt me. What if they don’t even know about us yet? I can’t decide which one is worse, them knowing and anticipating us, or a surprise visit.

I eventually muster up the strength to order six more meals before beginning the trek back to the apartment. The burn in my arms as I carry a heavy bag on each side brings me a sense of satisfaction, the energy I’m using acting as an excellent distraction.

It’s already noon when I walk through the door, and I see Seohyun talking quietly with a half-asleep Minsuh. “I’m back, and I brought food!”

Seohyun smiles readily at me, her smile contagious. “You left? I swear, we need to put a bell on you or something.”

“Do you want my food or not?”

It doesn’t take long before Seohyun is in the kitchen, divvying up the food to Minsuh and Kyung-soon, who’s still got a towel on her head from the shower.

“Is anybody else up?” I ask, and everybody shrugs in response.

“I thought I heard Himari get up not that long ago,” Kyung-soon offers, and I set off in search of my friend.

I follow my hunch, climbing the stairs as I make my way to the top floor of the apartment. I ponder waking Aera as I pass our floor, but go against it and continue up the stairs. There’s two bedrooms up here, which belong to Ichika and Himari. I knock on Ichika’s door and tell her that there’s food downstairs. Her response is a groan and a thud that sounds suspiciously like her body hitting the floor. I suppress a giggle and continue on my journey to the upper balcony.

Sure enough, Himari is lounging in a chair with her face turned up toward the sun. Her eyes jump open as soon as she hears me opening up the sliding door and sidling out.

“Hey Himi,” I greet.

“Hey. Is everybody else up?” Her voice sounds like she just woke up.

“Yeah, except for Aera. Who knows when she’ll get up. Probably not for another hour or so.” Himari nods, closing her eyes again. She has dark circles under her eyes. “Did you get any sleep?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“No, not for more than sixty seconds at a time. You?”

I nod a little, grateful for the good five hours I got. “Yeah, a bit. I went out and bought food for everyone if you’re hungry.”

Himari hums in acknowledgement, not making any move to get up. Instead I settle down on the chair beside her, propping my feet up on the railing.

We stay like that for a while, basking in the companionable silence. There’s so much to say, and yet I’m at a loss for words. What does one say in these kinds of situations? ‘Hey, don’t screw up meeting your soulmate tomorrow! Go, fight, win!’

It’s Himari who breaks the silence nearly ten minutes later, and I wonder if she dozed off for some of that time.

“I...I don’t know what to feel.”

I wait, knowing that more is coming. When she doesn’t speak for a while I prompt her. “What are you feeling right now?”

Himari sighs, sitting up and stretching. I notice that she’s wearing the same clothes as last night. She must have just came straight out here last night.

“I feel so tired that I can’t hardly think straight, but I’m so wired right now that I can’t sleep. I feel like I’m drowning, and like I won’t stop until tomorrow. And tomorrow feels so far away but at the same time it’s way too soon. I keep thinking that Hoseok must be feeling something similar, but what if he doesn’t even care? I think, more than anything…” she turns to look at me, and I wince at the fear I see in her eyes. “I keep imagining what he’s going to say when he finds out that his soulmate isn’t even Korean. Not that I think he would hold that against me, but I can’t help but think that he might be a little let down or uncomfortable knowing that his soulmate is from Japan.”

She settles back down with a huff, and I do too. It’s something we’ve talked about a lot, the fact that we’re not from here. Neither one of us care that our soulmates don’t share our nationality, but it’s something that I’ve worried about a lot, imagining what Namjoon will feel when it turns out his soulmate is very much an American.

Sitting here, looking at one of my best friends in the world, I can’t imagine Hoseok being anything less than elated. Himari is amazing. Loyal, hilarious, smart as a whip and one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen in real life.

I’ve told her as much every time we’ve had this conversation. There’s not a lot left to say. It’s a hopeless feeling, knowing that even the most honest statement will do little to mend another. So I choose a different approach.

“Well, if Hoseok is sad that you’re Japanese and not Korean, I’ll just tell everybody that Trump is my uncle or something and he’ll be so grateful to have you that it won’t even matter anymore.”

Himari looks at me like I have horns coming out of my head before she bursts out into laughter.

“Oh my gosh that’s the best idea you’ve ever had!” Her cackles fill up the street, and I find myself laughing alongside her. “Sounds good. Deal.”

↔

Nearly three hours later finds the seven of us piling out of two cars as we arrive at the shop Aera picked out. She finally stumbled down the stairs around 1, exhausted but ready to go shopping. It took some convincing to get her to eat first, but it paid off in the end.

I can’t help but gawk at the as we enter the store apparently owned by one of Aera’s friends within the designer circle.

“Holy cow,” I mutter under my breath. My friends chuckle at the English phrase, it always makes them laugh. “Are we even allowed to be in here?”

Aera laughs at my bewilderment even as Minsuh drags her away into the depths of the store. “Of course!”

Time seems to stand still as we spend hours in the shop, trying on different outfits and each of us vying for the attention of Aera as we trust her opinion the most. We bicker back and forth about how casual or formal we should dress, until Aera finally texts Bang PD to ask. He responds with “wear whatever you want” which does little to help.

“Ok,” Aera rounds us up like a preschool class. I munch on a churro that I snuck out and bought a few minutes ago, Himari eyeing me suspiciously. “Let’s just follow Mr. Bang’s advice and go for something we each feel comfortable in. I would advise a casual-nice outfit, we’re trying to make a good first impression after all. At the end of the day, though, I want you guys to stay true to what you like. I know you all very, very well, so I will know if you’re lying.”

Ichika salutes her before heading back into the mess of clothes she’s picked out. The clock above her has me dropping my chin to the floor.

“Um, what time does the store close?”

A worker pipes up from the cash register. “Don’t worry, we’re open until midnight.”

I sigh in relief, glad that we won’t be in too much of a rush even though we’ve already been in here for hours. My stomach protests staying in here without proper food for much longer, and I promise it that I’ll be done within the hour.

↔

An hour and a half later five of us waddle out of the store clutching our bags as we make our way to the nearest restaurant. Minsuh opted to stay behind with Aera, who had been so busy helping everybody else that she hadn’t even hardly begun looking for herself. She assured us with a wink that she wouldn’t take long. Apparently her professional eye had already picked out a few outfits throughout the day.

The five of us order food, settling our things into a corner booth as we complain about our feet hurting and discuss our outfits.

“We’re going to look so good.” Himari smiles, and I’m glad to see that her confidence has taken a boost since this morning.

“We need to make sure we get enough sleep tonight, though.” I add, giving her a knowing look.

“Ay ay, captain.”

The rest of the night passes in a blur, Aera staying true to her word and showing up with Minsuh only thirty minutes later. When she shows us her outfit, we all agree on it.

“How are you so good at these kinds of things?” Seohyun asks, bewildered. Seohyun has a reputation for being indecisive when it comes to her clothes, she relies heavily upon Aera’s expertise.

“Practice, practice, practice.”

“Speaking of practice,” Ichika interjects, “We need to practice not losing our minds tomorrow.”

People glance at us from their booths, clearly wondering what we’re talking about as we bounce ridiculous ideas off of each other. At one point Kyung-soon says she’s going to run laps around the BigHit building in order to burn off some steam before going in.

“Jin’s going to look outside the window and see you in your new outfit running laps around the building.”

“Yeah, and he’ll probably just say, ‘screw it, I’m joining her.’”

“Actually, that would totally happen.”

“Meanwhile the rest of us are hiding in the van.”

“Eating churros.”

“Oh, definitely eating churros.”

“Do they sell churros here? Now I’ve got a craving.”

By the time we make it back home we’ve eaten our fair share of churros (my second one of the day), Seohyun bought earrings, and we’ve come up with a code word for Aera when she feels like she’s about to pass out. (the code word is ‘holy cow’. Yes, in English. I’m dying for her to use it.)

We all go our separate ways, Ichika behind me as I climb the stairs to my room. She pauses to hug me goodnight before continuing up to the next level. It’s late enough for me to not even bother checking the time before I slip into my pajamas and fall into my bed. Who knew shopping could be so draining.

Fate is kind to me tonight, as I fall asleep in no time. The final thought on my mind is the fact that tomorrow is Thursday, and my life is going to change forever.

Previous - Next

Ok! I’m so excited for our girls to finally meet the boys! I’ll upload pictures of the outfits I was thinking of for everybody. I hope you enjoy! If you want to join the taglist, let me know! :)

taglist: @heartblackerthancoffee @mae-musicbitch @taylorroe3

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kerikaaria · 4 years ago

Text

If I Never Met You: Chapter 20

(??? X Reader) Idol!AU, Manager!Reader

DISCLAIMER: Since this fic is very similar to real life BTS I think I should probably say this. While the member in this chapter has admitted to struggling with eating disorders during his time as a celebrity, I DO NOT claim to understand what goes on in his head or how he personally feels, nor do I intend to make light of the situation. I hope the way I wrote this chapter makes it obvious that I treat these issues very seriously.

Genre: (PG13) fluff, angst

WC: 4.6k

Warnings: Mentions and discussions of eating disorders and body dysmorphia. I did my best to turn it positive, but if these things bother you it may be better to skip this chapter.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21

A/N - If you are having a difficult time, whether it be about the issues discussed in this chapter or other emotional distress and you are finding it difficult to cope with on your own, please don't be afraid to seek help. Either through friends/family or professional help - it is not shameful. Mental health is just as important as physical health, so please everyone take care of yourselves.

I stood in the hallway outside of the dance studio with Sejin and a few other staff, including one who was holding a camera. The boys were practicing, but we had a surprise planned for one member in particular. We lit the candles after one of the boys turned off the lights in the room, signaling for us to enter.

We entered the room singing happy birthday and I turned the lights back on to see Jimin smiling and clapping along to everyone’s singing. After he blew out the candles, Sejin handed him the bags full of fried chicken that we bought for all of them to enjoy and take a break from their hard practice. Jimin started to look like he was getting emotional so the others teased him, playfully hitting him and telling him to cry.

“It’s kind of expected that we prepare a secret camera, isn’t it?” Suga said to the Bangtan Bomb camera while Tae hugged Jimin from behind.

“How could I have not realized it was a secret camera?” Jimin asked as the woman holding the cake handed it to Jimin for him to hold. “The cake is pretty!” he said with a smile.

Even though he looked perfect anyway, Jimin got embarrassed in front of the Bangtan Bomb camera because his face was bare. I rolled my eyes when he started covering his face with one hand while balancing the cake with the other while thanking us for the cake and the surprise.

Jin took notice of Jimin hiding behind his hand. “You don’t have confidence in your bare face?” he asked. Meanwhile, Tae was focused on removing the candles from the cake.

“No, I don’t. I’m shy, but really thankful!” he addressed the camera.

As soon as he finished talking, Jungkook took some of the icing with his finger to smear on Jimin’s face. Jin, Hobi, and Tae quickly followed suit, laughing while Jimin deadpanned at everyone for giving him the unwanted facial. Although, Tae was the one doing most of it, nearly covering half of his friend’s face on his own. Even Joon came over and added to the masterpiece.

Soon enough, Jimin got back at Taehyung, swiping a long trail of icing down the side of his face and neck just before all the boys came together for us to take some pictures. Seeing them joke and play around like this was one of my favorite things. Even if the moments didn’t last long, they were much needed and well deserved in between all the practicing and schedules.

The staff filming for the Bangtan Bomb continued to film when they opened up the fried chicken to finally dig in. Everyone except for Jungkook sat on the floor around the food. For some reason, Jungkook thought he needed to lose weight, so he didn’t want to eat the fried food.

After the camera was shut off and the other staff were leaving, Jin asked me and Sejin, “Are you going to eat with us?” Sejin said he had something to do before saying bye and leaving the room.

“No, I don’t think so. We’ll let you guys hang out and relax.” I offered them a smile before turning to walk away. To tell the truth, I wanted to stay – partially because Korean fried chicken was just so good, and also of course because I love to hang out with my boys. But I have honestly been getting worried that I hang around them too much and didn’t want to overstay my welcome.

“Are you busy, noona?” Jimin asked.

“Not really,” I responded. “Why?”

He got up and shuffled over to me, pulling on my arm to bring me back towards them. “Then why not stay? This is for my birthday, and I want you to stay with us,” he said with a pout. “If you want to, of course.”

I smiled. “Of course I would like to, Jimin-ah.”

“Then please?” He said as he gently pushed on my shoulders to urge me to sit and Hoseok moved over to make room for me.

I laughed. “Okay, I guess I’ll hang out for a little bit then.” I sat down next to Hobi while Jimin reclaimed his spot to my left.

“We haven’t gotten to see you that much outside of work the past few weeks,” Namjoon said in between taking bites out of a wing.

“Yeah, sorry,” I said, grabbing the piece that Jimin offered me. I smiled at him as a silent thank you. “I’ve either had other stuff to do for work or was trying to spend some time to myself. You know I love you guys, but sometimes I like my alone time.” That wasn’t a complete lie. Even if I did start to prefer spending more time with them rather than being alone, I still needed to have some time just for myself. Who didn’t?

But I definitely wasn’t going to tell them that I was also becoming scared of being too clingy.

“That’s understandable,” Jin said. “But it’s still nice to spend time with you, especially moments like this.”

We continued to chat while finishing up the chicken. Between seven people and how delicious it was, it was done in no time. I noticed that Jimin only grabbed two or three pieces, spending the time to just nibble on them, but I figured he may have just not been particularly hungry so I didn’t think too much about it and set the observation aside.

After we finished, I volunteered to clean everything up and stuck around for just a little bit longer. Right now they were mostly learning and practicing the performance for one of the end of the year awards shows, which would be starting next month. They were up for Best New Artist awards at a few shows, and would be performing at some of them as well. It was a small performance, but we were excited to be able to have the opportunity nonetheless.

I stayed only for a little bit before heading home. While walking home, I suddenly realized that Jimin’s was the first birthday that was celebrated after I had started working at Big Hit and all seven of those wonderful boys walked into my life. I couldn’t believe that it had already been a year since then. Time had just been flying by, it seemed. I guessed that was what happened when you were so busy you practically eat, breathe and sleep your work.

I’d been living in South Korea for more than a year, and it had been that long since I saw my family. I missed them sorely, but I was also very happy with the life I was making for myself here too. I was even paying my own rent now, after swearing up and down to Bang PD that I wouldn’t be scraping by if I did, telling him if he really could afford to keep spending the money that went toward my rent it should go to the boys for some extra pocket money.

It was already pretty late when I heard shuffling footsteps make their way to the apartment across the hall from mine, and I opened my door to offer a greeting to the boys and make sure they were doing okay.

“Hey, noona,” Namjoon said, holding back a yawn.

“Hey,” I responded. “You guys are getting back late. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Hoseok responded.

I nodded and was about to retreat back into my house before I realized something. There weren’t seven people standing in the hallway. “Wait. Where’s Jimin?” I asked.

“He said he wanted to practice a little longer,” Tae said, frowning.

“Ah okay,” I responded, nodding slowly. “Well, get some rest guys. You need it.” I smiled before they waved and said good night, entering their home.

I quickly changed out of my pajamas, thinking to grab some leftover food I had in my fridge before putting on a jacket and leaving the apartment. I started walking quickly toward the company building. I normally didn’t like to be out at this time by myself if I could help it, even if these streets were significantly safer than what I was used to, but I felt like I had to check on Jimin.

I carefully approached the room to the dance studio, its light spilling into the dark hallway. I peered through the window, and sure enough Jimin was in there, dancing really hard. I almost never saw him get as exhausted as he looked right now, with beads of sweat sticking to his skin and making his hair wet. I frowned at the sight, worried for my friend.

When Jimin finished his dance, he collapsed on the floor, spreading his legs out and holding his upper body up with his hands on either side of him. He then pulled his legs close to his chest, resting his elbows on his knees and pressed his palms onto his face. I carefully opened the door and slowly walked in.

He didn’t seem to notice my presence when he said, “Gotta keep going. Not good enough yet.”

I waited another moment before deciding to alert him to my existence. “Jimin-ah, you look so tired.”

He quickly turned around in shock, eyeing me closely. “Noona, when did you get here?” he asked, still pretty breathless from his dance workout.

“Just a minute ago,” I said as I walked over and sat in front of him. He lowered his knees into a cross-legged position. “They told me you decided to stay to practice more, and I was worried that you might be hungry. I noticed you didn’t eat much of the chicken earlier.”

He smiled slightly. “I’m fine, noona. No need to worry about me.”

I looked closely at his face, his smile not convincing me. “You looked like you were working yourself way too hard, Jimin. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” He held my gaze and even though I could see there was something there he wouldn’t tell me, I decided not to press any further.

I sighed. “Well, you should at least eat something. I brought some food with me.” I pulled the container out of my bag.

“Okay, I’ll have a little bit,” Jimin said, knowing I was going to be stubborn about this and not let him say no.

“And we should really get back to the dorm afterward too. You looked like you could barely stand up.”

“Okay, okay,” he said as he took the chopsticks I offered him. “Manager-nim knows best.” He lightly chuckled.

“I’m not being your manager right now Jimin,” I said, sliding on the floor to move next to him and resting my head on his shoulder. “I’m being your friend.”

He ate about half of the food I brought with me. Although I was hoping he’d eat the whole thing, I decided to take it as a win. After that, he gathered his things so we could walk home together.

In the hallway outside our apartments, I gave him a hug. “Good night. And don’t forget to take care of yourself. We don’t want our precious Jimin to get hurt.”

He squeezed me a bit tighter, replying “I will. Don’t worry about me.”

Even though I still didn’t spend all my free time with the boys, I started to pay close attention to Jimin whenever I was with them. Something about that day made me feel worried for him. I saw certain mannerisms that were scarily similar to something I was all too familiar with.

I didn’t make a habit of addressing it when I saw something unusual because I didn’t want to push him away, but I started taking mental notes. How he would deny eating food when everyone sat down to eat, or at the very least he’d nibble on a few pieces to make it look like he was eating a full meal when he didn’t. When he’d stay late after practice to either keep going or just exercise, even if he exercised earlier that day too. And his members weren’t blind, I know they saw it too. But approaching someone about these kinds of things wasn’t easy to do.

On a day when the boys got to relax a bit at home, I decided to stop by to chill, having spent a good amount of time by myself recently and was feeling a tad lonely. Jimin was sitting in the living room, browsing through the internet on his phone and I sat next to him. I pulled out my own phone, but glanced at what Jimin was looking at before getting lost in my own device. He didn’t notice me looking as I watched him read comments.

But not just regular comments. Hate comments.

He somehow found a coal mine of comments all about his body and figure. People who were saying that Jimin was only good for his abs. I even saw one or two comments turning the nickname of Mochi some Armys had given him because of his cute cheeks into an insult, saying it meant he was fat. He must have been reading a blog created by antis to find such concentrated hate comments.

I diverted my attention before he realized I was looking at what he was doing. As much as I wanted to tear the phone out of his hands and yell at him for paying attention to people who don’t know what they’re talking about, I thought better of it. These things needed to be handled delicately. No wonder he’d been acting so unhealthy lately.

Then later that same week, we were all at the company. The boys were working on choreography, either for their upcoming performance or for their next comeback and I was in my office, figuring out their schedules for a few weeks from now. I was concentrating on figuring out how to untangle some conflicts when my phone started ringing.

Checking the caller ID, I saw it was Jungkook. That kid rarely used his phone to actually contact people, so it shocked me for a moment. “Hello?” I answered.

“Noona!” I could hear the urgency in his voice. “Jimin hyung’s passed out!”

“What?!” I yelled into the phone, abruptly standing up. “Where are you?”

“In the dance studio,” he responded, his breathing very unsteady. “We were in the middle of the choreography when he just fainted. Noona, what do we do?”

“Is he breathing? Is he hurt anywhere?” I asked.

“Yes he’s breathing, that was the first thing Namjoon hyung checked. And I don’t think he’s hurt. There’s no bleeding or anything like that.”

“Okay, good.” I looked through my purse for the snack bar I always kept just in case I got hungry in between meals before hurrying out of my office. “Don’t worry too much. Just make sure that he’s in a position that should make it easy for him to breath. He’ll probably wake up any minute and he’ll be okay. I’m on my way.”

We hung up the call and less than a minute later I walked through the door to the studio. They all looked up at me, concern in their eyes.

“Shouldn’t we call an ambulance?” Taehyung asked. He looked on the verge of tears.

“As long as he wakes up shortly, there shouldn’t be a need for that,” I said. I was remaining calm on the outside because the last thing any of them needed was for me to be freaking out. While I was pretty sure what had caused this, that didn’t mean it made me any less concerned for him. It was still something that needed to be taken care of.

“What if something’s really wrong, though?” Hoseok asked.

“He’s still been exercising and practicing way longer and not eating as much as he used to right?” I asked, looking at Namjoon who sat right next to Jimin. He slowly nodded in response. “Then I’m sure any of us can guess what happened.”

“What do we do?” Namjoon asked. “We’ve tried telling him to stop overworking himself and to eat more but he won’t listen to us.”

I sighed. “These things aren’t as easy to deal with as just telling someone they’re doing wrong. He can feel how his body is reacting to it, he knows what he’s doing isn’t good. But that’s not going to stop him unless he decides on his own that he really wants to.”

I grabbed a bottle of water and sat down next to Jimin on the floor. Some of my concern relaxed when I saw his chest rising and falling with my own eyes. “When he wakes up, don’t jostle or move him. He’s probably going to feel dizzy and take a moment to readjust to what’s going on around him. So keep calm, too. We don’t want to freak him out.”

“You sound like you know from experience,” Jin commented.

“I do,” was all I said.

Just a moment later, Jimin’s eyes slowly opened.

“Jimin-ah,” Namjoon gently said. “Jimin, can you hear me?”

It took him a second, but Jimin grumbled a response. Then he quickly sat up, probably shocked and trying to remember what happened. I grabbed his arms to keep him steady. “Wait, what happened?” he asked.

“You fainted,” Yoongi almost whispered and Jimin slowly nodded in response.

I took the snack bar out of my jacket pocket and tore the package open before holding it out for Jimin. “Eat this, Jimin,” I said.

He shook his head and went to push it away, but I grabbed his wrist, placed it in his palm, and wrapped his fingers around it.

“I’m not asking, Jimin,” I said sternly. “I’m telling you, you need to eat it. And drink some water, too.”

Both Jimin and Joon looked at me in surprise at my tone, as I was sure the others were as well. Even when we were working and I was really in “manager mode” with them, I made it an effort to not be authoritative or assertive with them. I was sure they didn’t expect me to talk like this to someone who was obviously sick at the moment.

Jimin nodded and took a small bite of the bar, knowing now was not the time to argue with me.

“How are you feeling?” I ask after he took a couple of bites, my voice back to my normal tone.

“I’m feeling okay,” he quietly responded. “I’ll probably be good to get back to practicing in a little bit.”

“No, you’re not practicing anymore today,” I said. “You need to rest.”

“I’m pretty sure I just did,” Jimin chuckled, trying to make light of the situation. I heard a sigh somewhere in the room.

“Do you know how worried we are about you?” Seokjin asked. “You’re not taking care of yourself, and now it’s so bad that your body can’t even handle it.”

“You can’t keep doing this,” Taehyung said, clasping one of Jimin’s hands in his own. “You need to take care of yourself.”

“I am taking care of myself,” Jimin said. “I need to stay in shape, need to stay thin. I weigh too much, and I can’t keep looking like this in front of Army.”

I stood up and turned around, running my hand through my hair. “Those people online who are judging your looks are not Army, Jimin,” I said. “And their opinions are absolutely worthless.”

“It’s not just those comments, noona,” Jimin said. “I see it when I look in the mirror, too.”

I felt tears stinging at my eyes. If that was how he thought, then it was definitely worse than I imagined. “Jimin.” I turned back around and knelt down to look him in the face. “Your weight is considered healthy. Any doctor would tell you that.”

“And doing what you’ve been doing isn’t going to do anything but make you less healthy,” Hobi added.

“You really need to stop, hyung,” Jungkook said. “We’re all so worried about you.”

“But I need to lose weight so my cheeks aren’t chubby anymore,” Jimin said.

“Fans love your cheeks, Jimin,” Tae said. “They call you Mochi because of them, don’t they?”

“I don’t like that nickname,” he quickly responded. “It means I’m fat.”

“You’re not fat because you still have those cheeks,” I said. “First, you’re 18 years old, you’re still growing into your face. And also, you’re perfect the way you are.”

Jimin sighed. I knew this was hard for him. He already trained his mind to think one way, so while he listened and wanted to believe what we were saying he already had his mind made up.

“How can we get you to start taking better care of yourself, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi asked.

“You can’t force him,” I answered for him when he didn’t respond. “It’s up to him and his own willpower to believe our words and take them to heart. But it’s not easy to do. It’s not easy at all.” I took Jimin’s hand that wasn’t still occupied by Tae’s and squeezed it. “It was a bad idea to ask you to show your abs in the debut songs. Maybe if we didn’t tell you to do that, things may not have gotten this bad for you.”

We were all silent for a moment before I decided I needed to tell him. I steeled myself before letting go of Jimin’s hand to pull out my phone. I scrolled through my photo gallery to find what I was looking for, finding the perfect picture and clicking on it before turning my phone around for Jimin to see.

“What is this, noona?” he asked.

“It’s a picture of me,” I said. “From a few years ago.”

The others looked over his shoulder, trying to take a look as well. I saw them trying to hide their shocked reactions as they looked back and forth between the past me and present me.

“I never had high self-esteem, and as I continued to gain weight, it definitely kept getting worse,” I said. “That picture was when I was about the highest I ever weighed. I wanted to be thinner, but finding the motivation to lose weight was incredibly difficult. Negative thoughts feed into more negative thoughts, and when your brain has made a habit of trailing down that thought path it’s painfully hard to make it turn the other way around. To make it switch to the path of wanting to make a positive change instead of just hating yourself.”

Jimin handed my phone back to me, listening intently. “Before doing it properly, I first started trying to make changes in a very destructive way. I lacked motivation in general, especially to exercise and be active. So finding the lack of motivation to eat wasn’t hard to manage. I felt like I was torturing myself. I already had issues with blood sugar so when I would eat almost nothing for days or weeks, I found myself very weak and it started to become less uncommon for me to faint.”

Jungkook sat beside me and wrapped his arms around me as they listened to my story. “That’s why I made you eat once you came to. I had a feeling your blood sugar was low from the lack of nutrition and it was important for you to eat something so your body could stabilize a bit. And that’s why it hurts me so, so much to see you like this, Jimin. I know that our concerns are probably not going to make you change, and you’re definitely not going to be able to suddenly flip a switch and go back to before you felt the way you do now. But we’re all here for you, and we all want you to be better. So please, Jimin, trust us and lean on us, okay? We’ll support you through this until we remind you of how amazing you are.”

I saw tears in Jimin’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m worrying you all. I don’t mean to. I just don’t know what else to do. I feel like I’m doing what I have to, and I don’t know if I can make myself stop.”

“I know,” I said as I placed my hand on his cheek and wiped away a tear.

“So, what can we do?” Jin asked, looking at me.

“Be there for him,” I said, keeping my eyes locked on Jimin’s. “Try to get him to eat at every meal. Try to get him to take it easy when he’s overworking himself. Don’t push too hard, but don’t give up on him. And hopefully, our Jiminie will eventually remember how wonderful and perfect he is.”

“Okay,” Namjoon said. “We’re here for you, Jimin. We always are.” He draped his arm around his younger brother’s shoulders and gave him a light squeeze.

“I love you, my friend,” Tae said, wrapping himself around Jimin in a hug, forcing him to fall to the floor from the force of it.

“Yah, you didn’t need to knock me over,” Jimin said, laughing.

Jungkook left my side to join the other two on the floor. “I’m not missing out on this,” he said as he wrapped himself around both of them to make a little cuddle pile.

I smiled at the touching scene, happy the mood in the room was becoming a little lighter. It hurt me that Jimin was going through this, but he had six wonderful brothers to help him, and that was the important thing. Having a support system, having people who will be the voice of reason for you when you couldn’t, that was one of the best things for someone to have during times like these.

Hobi came to sit next to me. “Thank you, noona,” he said. “But are you okay?”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” I said as I lay my head on his shoulder.

“You stopped starving yourself, right?” he asked, and I nodded. “How did you get yourself to stop?”

I hummed while thinking of a response. “I don’t know, I just realized one day that what I was doing was wrong and I had to stop. As far as I could tell, there wasn’t really a magic fix or anything in particular that made me stop. But once I did, I managed to get the motivation to be healthy, not just with food but also with exercise. And now I’m a lot happier with myself. But Jimin’s different. He’s not actually overweight, he is making himself believe he is.”

“Yeah, that’s what worries me,” Hoseok replied. “Thank you for telling us your story, noona. That was brave of you. And I think all of us are seeing what Jimin is going through a little differently now because of it.”

“I have faith that he’ll be able to turn it around. We’ll just have to wait to see when that’ll be.”

The maknaes were now standing, no longer in a pile on the floor. And to everyone’s surprise, Yoongi walked right up to Jimin and pulled him into his arms. He didn’t say anything, but we knew exactly what he was trying to tell him. Jimin wrapped his arms around his hyung’s waist before the rest of them added themselves into the hug one by one and made one big group hug.

I stayed back but Jin, who was the closest one to me after they all piled in, reached out to grab my arm and pull me into the ball of love as well. “What were you doing just standing there, (Y/n)? You need this too.”

I relaxed into the embraces, feeling their warmth. It may end up being a long journey for Jimin, but at least it wouldn’t be a lonely one.

“I love you all,” Jimin said from the middle of the pile. “So much.”

A/N - I feel this is important to say: Jimin disliking the Mochi nickname is actually a true fact. After the “Papa Mochi/Baby Mochi” thing I’m not sure if it’s helped him like the nickname better or not, but I’d rather be safe. As I portrayed here, while it started as endearing, antis picked it up as a way to call him fat and body shame him, so he really doesn't like the nickname :( Please be respectful of our lovely Jimin and not use this name. We have so many other sweet nicknames to call him that he can appreciate!

And, as I said last chapter, think twice before spreading hate or posting hate comments. It's so easy to forget when we're behind our screens that the person on the other side is a real person just like you, and words can hurt much more than you think. Even our lovely, handsome Jimin is insecure about his looks because of thoughtless people telling him he needs to change, and the amount of pain it's caused him over the years isn't acceptable or excusable. Like BTS does, we should be doing our best to spread love and not hate.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21

Tags: @calling-dips-on-j-hope @misohime @netflix-batman-sleep @smallbaby-cat @leitholdwithlove @ramyagovindraj @leesalts @rjsmochii

Send me a message or ask if you want tagged! And also feel free to leave comments or send asks to just talk to me!

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xstrawberrykookiesx13 · 5 years ago

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Night before Christmas

Summary- You’re an international singer and best friends with BTS. You decide to pay a surprise visit to Seoul to meet the boys and your boyfriend Taehyung for Christmas eve.

Pairings- Taehyung x reader feat. BTS

Genre- Fluff, idol AU

Word count- 2000

You usually visited the boys during holidays but due to both your hectic schedules it was impossible for you to meet. Your collaboration had skyrocketed off the charts and was now nominated for a Grammy. Whenever you met the boys, it was usually for your performance, and at award shows but you’d hardly get to be with them the way you’d want to due to all the press.

It’s also been more and more difficult for you to hide your relationship with Kim Taehyung, your boyfriend of almost 2 years from the media, but you’ll tried your best to play it off as friends so as to not upset his fans.

It’s been almost a year since you last spent a day with all of them at their dorm. With their world tour ending and yours not beginning until the New Year, you decide to surprise them by flying to Seoul on Christmas Eve.

You take great care to not alert the media about your whereabouts and take a regular flight instead of your private jet. The K media always comes up with new articles regarding you and one of the boys. A few of the fans speculated that you and Taehyung were a thing after videos of him stealing a look at you at the BBMA’s emerged but it was soon forgotten. Most of their ARMY fans shipped you with Jungkook since you two were the closest in age.

You take a cab and go to their apartment in Gangnam. It’s almost 10pm so the boys would be back home from practice or so you hope. With their comeback scheduled to happen in February, they barely had any time to spare. Ringing the bell, you wait for one of them to answer as you hide behind one of the plastic plants lining the corridor.

Namjoon opens the door, looking confused as ever. He’s probably scared thinking it’s some sasaeng fan since they normally wouldn’t have visitors at this hour. He’s still in his gym clothes and seems to be growing out a mullet.

“Surprise”

You jump out from behind the plant.

Namjoon’s jaw seems to have dropped to the floor as he can’t process what’s happened. You hear the voices of the other boys asking who it is in the background.

Jimin comes running over when he sees you still standing outside the door. He’s dyed his hair back to its original dark shade.

“Y/N! I can’t believe this,” he says as he hugs you tightly and spins you around. You’re already dizzy from happiness. Namjoon’s still frozen in the same position.

With a baseball bat in one hand, Jin sprints through the room.

“Hyung will save you from the sasaengs,” he yells as he tries to protect his brothers. The bat drops from his grip as soon as he lays eyes on you. “Y/N, you’re the sasaeng?” You can’t help but giggle at his disheveled self. He’s in his RJ pyjama suit and his hair is sticking up from behind. Guess you succeeded in surprising them. “I even sent Jungkook to get his boxing gloves just in case. Our maknae really is the strongest among us.”

“I don’t doubt it,” you smile and put your arms around him. Still enveloped in his hug, you notice something behind the couch in the living room. “What’s that?”

“Ah, that’s probably Hobi hyung. You know he’s a bit of a coward.” Jimin gathers your suitcase and gets it inside the house. He also turns Namjoon around so he’s now facing the house.

“J-Hope!” Jin shouts. “You can come out now. The sasaeng turned out to be Y/N.”

You laugh and put your arms around Namjoon who sighs. He seems to be back to normal now. “Sorry for the surprise,” you whisper as he messes your hair.

Hobi awkwardly moves from behind the couch and comes into your view. You kinda feel bad for him. He looks the same way as he did during that episode of RUN BTS when he had to go on the roller coaster.

“Hi,” you smile and go to give him a hug.

“Y/N you almost gave me a stroke. It’s not good for my heart you know. You could’ve just told me you were a sasaeng. We’d still accept you.”

“Hobi, I think she was just trying to surprise us,” Namjoon speaks for the first time that night. You all burst out laughing just when Jungkook comes into the room with his boxing gloves on and Yoongi follows him.

“Can you’ll kids and Jin Hyung keep it down. I was trying to sleep. We have to go to work tomorrow,” Yoongi rubs his eyes and puts his glasses on.

“It’s Christmas tomorrow, Hyung,” says Jimin.

“And look at our present who just arrived. Although she almost sent us into cardiac arrest,” says Hobi.

“Speak for yourself,” scoffs Jin.

Yoongi comes forward and gives you a warm hug. “I think she’d be a more of a Christmas gift for Taehyung,” he says and pats your head. You blush at the mention of Taehyung.

Even before you’re done hugging, Jungkook pulls you from Yoongi’s hold. “It’s my turn now,” he pouts. You take a step back to see your best friend with his new red highlights and tattoos as he’s just wearing a black tank top.

“You look handsome, Kookie,” you say as he kisses you lightly on the top of your head.

“Y/N how can you betray me like that,” you laugh as the others sigh loudly at Jin.

“Come on now, get in quickly. It’s freezing outside.” Yoongi goes and closes the door as the rest start walking in. Jungkook lifts you over his shoulder as you scream and carries you into the living room. They all gather around you on the couch and start speaking together at the same time. Even after being fluent at Korean, you still find it hard to understand what each of them is saying.

Just then you hear footsteps coming from the first floor. Your heart instantly flutters as you hear Tae’s sleepy voice.

“What’s happening,” he groans. “Is it morning already.” You can’t help but almost tear up upon hearing your boyfriend’s voice. It’s been so long since you last slept in with him and got to hear his deep voice drop down even more octaves.

“Wait, let’s surprise him. He’s been whining about getting a gift from Santa all throughout Bon Voyage.”

Jimin runs to stop Taehyung from entering the living room and covers Taehyung’s eyes with his hands. He walks in dressed in his Burberry pyjamas to where all of you are gathered. This is your first time seeing him with his new perm and the pictures he’d sent you just didn’t do him any justice.

“Taehyungie, there’s a surprise for you. Can you guess what it is,” says Jimin.

“It’s something you’ve been whining about almost every day,” says Namjoon.

“Is it a Van Gogh painting?” asks Tae.

“Think again, Hyung. It’s even better.” Says Jungkook.

You smile as you see your boyfriend struggling to think. He hates such games especially when he’s sleepy.

“Can you show me what it is please. I’m too tired-“ you cut him off by gently giving him a small peck on the lips. Jimin takes his hands off his best friend’s eyes but his eyes are still closed. He opens them slowly as Jimin hands his glasses back to him.

You all laugh looking at how lost Taehyung looks.

“Surprise baby. I missed you,” you tear up as you embrace the love of your life and kiss him lightly. The two of you generally don’t do any PDA around the members but today you just can’t help it. The members who’d usually all complain in unison, today just look at you’ll quietly. You can feel them smiling even though your face is buried against Taehyung’s chest.

“I missed you too,” he whispers. You feel someone’s arms around your waist as they pull you towards them. You let go of Tae as you stumble backwards.

“Enough with the PDA. I missed my best friend too,” Jungkook says, holding you tightly. “I’ve got so many new video games to show you.” You turn to face Jungkook, a wide smile across both your faces.

“You need to get out of that room more, Maknae.” Jimin pulls you away from Jungkook’s hold. “Let’s binge watch the new drama on Netflix.” You pull Jimin’s cheeks as he puts his hand around your shoulder. You can’t help but check out how incredibly attractive he looks in those sweatpants and a plain white t shirt.

“Alright kids, we can do all those things later. Let’s get some sleep now. We have practice tomorrow then we can take out Y/N for dinner,” says Namjoon.

“I don’t think I’ll be getting any more sleep tonight,” Taehyung mutters out of nowhere. Jin swears loudly as the rest of you break out into laughter.

“I’ve got another surprise for you guys,” you say.

“Y/N, I really don’t think Jin hyung and I can take any more of these,” says Hobi, looking all alarmed.

“Did you get me those basketball tickets I asked you for last Christmas?” asks Yoongi.

“I did but that’s not what I’m talking about.” They all look at you eagerly, waiting you to answer. “I called your PD-nim and got you guys the day off tomorrow. Also, no more schedules till 31st. I’ll also be staying here till Taehyung’s birthday and we’ll be flying back to the states together for your New Year’s performance.”

There’s silence across the room. All their jaws seemed to have dropped to the floor.

“You’re the best, Y/N,” Taehyung cries as he hugs you and lifts you off the floor.

“This really is better than basketball tickets,” Yoongi smiles and kisses your forehead. “Thank you, kid.”

The rest of the boys are still busy Wow-ing at your surprise. You haven’t seen them this happy in a long time.

“You guys deserve it,” you say and hold your arms out, motioning for a hug. All 7 of them come forward and it turns into a group hug.

“Y/N, have I told you how beautiful you look,” says Taehyung, his face buried in the nape of your neck.

“You look beautiful everyday Y/N,” says Jimin. “Taehyung’s just saying this to get some action.”

Taehyung swears and all 8 of you start giggling like little kids. You finally break out of your hug.

“It’s Christmas eve, how about we watch some Christmas movie,” you say. “You guys get settled. I’ll make you’ll some hot chocolate.”

“I’ll make the hot chocolate, Y/N. You go spend some time with Taehyung,” says Jin.

“I’ll help you out, Hyung,” says Yoongi and you all start to disperse back to your rooms. “Maknaes, go and get pillows and balnkets to the living room. Looks like we’ll be sleeping out here tonight.” He motions towards Jimin and Jungkook.

“We haven’t all slept in the same room since our trainee days,” says Hobi. “Mostly cause of all the snoring.” He stares at Namjoon.

“I wasn’t the only one. And you have worse sleep habits,” Namjoon retorts with a pouty expression. Sometimes you forget that the leader is only a few years older than you.

Taehyung still has his arms wrapped around your waist. “Can someone tell me why Jungkook is wearing boxing gloves and why there’s a baseball bat in front of the door.”

You all turn to look at the maknae and start laughing once again.

“It was for protection. From a sasaeng,” says the oldest member, already in the kitchen.

“What?” Taehyung’s doe eyes widen. He looks as lost as ever.

“Jungkookie, you weren’t really about to beat up a girl were you. Hyungs didn’t raise you up to be like this,” says Yoongi and playfully slaps him on the back of his neck.

“I thought it was Dispatch,” laughs Jungkook.

“We’d all support our maknae, if you ever wanted to beat Dispatch up,” says Hobi. The others agree in unison.

“What are they talking about, Y/N?” Taehyung turns you around to face him.

“Let’s go to your room first, baby. We have all night to talk.” You kiss him on his cheek as you take his hand and lead him towards his room. It was going to be long Christmas Eve and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#Taehyung x reader Taehyung x Y/N BTS imagines Taehyung imagines Taehyung fanfic BTS fanfic BTS x reader BTS x y/n BTS fluff

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blackberrywidow · 6 years ago

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Cut My Heart Out

Summary: Murder/Serial Killer AU. Detective Bucky Barnes had planned to spend this year’s Purge the same way he spent all of them—locked safely inside his home, avoiding trouble. However, his plans are unwillingly changed when a woman breaks inside his home.

Warnings: It’s a Purge AU, so there are a lot. Language, violence, implied rape threat, blood, attempted murder. I promise there are also some nice things too!

Word Count: 8k (I'm so sorry)

A/N: This is my submission for @chrisadoodle‘s writing challenge. I struggled with deciding to do a reader-insert or oc, but felt that given the nature of the story, the oc fit better. So I’m sorry, but I hope you still like it!

I also have a taglist now, so if anyone wants added to any of my one shots or series, just send me an ask!

“Yeah, Steve. I know. I’m locking up now,” Bucky said, continuing to shovel food into his mouth, decidedly not locking down his apartment like he had promised.

“No you’re not, Buck. I can hear you chewing,” Steve retorted, and Bucky knew that he was shaking his head the way he tended to when he was annoyed with him.

“No, I swear I’m doin’ it right now Steve.” Bucky chewed the slice of pizza even louder, earning him an exasperated sigh from his best friend. “Relax, man. It’s still thirty minutes until commencement. I’ve got plenty of time.”

“I know. I just wish that you would have come over tonight. I feel better when we can all spend this terrible night together.”

Steve was clearly stressed, as he always was on this night. Bucky and Steve were partners at work, where they were both detectives with the Brooklyn PD, but they had been partners for far longer. They grew up together, had been through everything together, so Bucky knew Steve better than anyone. And Steve had trouble saying no when he saw someone in trouble, which made the Purge incredibly difficult for him.

He had a family to protect—Peggy and the kids needed him to be there to keep them safe and he couldn’t go out on the streets to save the innocents that were targeted by the Purgers. Steve had always had too big of a heart, something that Bucky couldn’t fault him for, but it didn’t mean that he understood why he got so worked up about it. The Purge had been around for most of their lives and there was nothing they could do to change that. Terrible shit happened to good people—that was just life.

“I know,” Bucky sighed. “But you’ve got your own thing goin’ on. I’d like to just stay home and deal with this shit on my own.”

“You mean by getting drunk?”

“Hey, you have your coping methods, I have mine.”

“Listen, Bucky,” Steve said, sounding resigned, but stern, “I know that you like to deal with your… problems on your own, but just know that you don’t have to. I’m here for you. I always will be.”

“’Till the end of the line,” Bucky replied as he took a long pull from his beer, the line a reflex at this point.

“”Till the end of the line,” Steve repeated back, ending the call.

---

Twenty-five minutes later and Bucky was actually doing what he promised Steve and locking down his apartment. He triple checked every entryway and ensured that the locks were secure. It wasn’t exactly high-tech stuff, but it would do. Usually any sort of barricade was enough to deter Purgers in this area, and anyone that knew who he was knew better than to target him.

The sirens wailed as Bucky made his way to his living room, cold beer in hand, with every intention of riding the night out in relative peace. His years of getting worked up over the Purge had long since passed.

At least, that’s how he assumed he would be spending the night. Until he heard a thump sound from his bedroom.

Bucky tensed, every muscle contracting as his hand drifted to the gun he still had strapped to his belt and waited. After a moment of heavy silence where no one came into view or made another sound, he slowly stood from his chair, drawing his handgun as he did.

He cautiously made his way down the hallway that connected his living room to the rest of the apartment, gun expertly raised and ready to shoot whoever he found. His tolerance of the Purge was already thin, he definitely was not in the mood to deal with whatever bullshit had found its way into his apartment.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar, but Bucky was certain he had closed it the last time he was in there. He kicked it softly, turning quickly into the room eyes roving over every inch to locate whoever had broken in.

It was empty.

He scoured every inch of it with all the caution of a good detective before determining that it was clear. He furrowed his brows, processing his situation as quickly as possible.

It should have been impossible to break into his apartment without alerting him—he had an alarm system that he set during lockdown and breaking through steel bars wasn’t exactly a quiet business. And while not impossible, it was unlikely that someone would be able to sneak out of his room before he got there without him noticing.

But he had heard something, and he had a feeling that that something meant trouble—and if there was one thing Bucky trusted, it was his gut.

He made his way back out of the room, keeping his back to the wall and his gun raised. He inspected the laundry room and guest room in the same fashion, both empty and showing no sign of a break-in. He had just begun to suspect that maybe he was losing it when he heard the scraping of a chair coming from his kitchen.

He whirled around to face the other end of his hallway, eyes narrowed. “Jesus Christ,” he growled under his breath, beyond irritated at this point. Whoever was fucking with him was in for it the second he got in that kitchen.

He held this thought as he made his way back down the short hallway, ready to pull the trigger the second he laid eyes on his intruder.

Despite his determination, the sight that greeted him in his kitchen made him hesitate, luckily for the woman that was currently lounging at his island.

She appeared to be an average woman, with long caramel-colored hair and sun-kissed skin. She was sitting at his counter as though she had been there a thousand times before, eyes focused on a manila file as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

It was the exact opposite of what he had expected, which was enough to shock him into hesitating against his better judgement. He had been prepared for a previous perp back for revenge or a random thug looking to be “cleansed” in the wrong place. Not a seemingly harmless woman reading in his kitchen.

His foot shifted slightly, causing the floor under him to creak. The woman’s gaze snapped up at the sound, taking him in with one quick glance.

“Hello,” she said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. As though she hadn’t just broken into his home on the most dangerous night of the year. “You must be Detective Barnes.”

Bucky inched inside the room a bit, hands still clutching his gun and aiming it at the stranger’s chest, analyzing everything about her. She was still sitting at his island, legs crossed as she stared at him, a calm sort of challenge in her eyes. She didn’t seem to be armed, and she didn’t seem to aggressive—but anyone crazy enough to break into his house and act like they owned the place was clearly some sort of threat.

“Who are you?” He finally asked, eyes locked on hers as he continued to make his way inside the kitchen, gun unwaveringly steady.

“My name is Evelyn Mason. And you,” she said, finally breaking eye contact to stare back down at her file, “are Detective James Barnes. Four years in the Army, two of those served overseas before you came back and joined the police force, working your way up to be a detective. And you’re a good one. You’re a good guy, James Barnes. That’s why I’m here.”

She locked eyes with him again, the green of her irises seeming to pierce him with their ferocity. He wasn’t sure what kind of crazy shit this woman was going on about, but he wanted no part in it. “How did you get in?”

The woman’s lips curved up into a smirk. “Your bedroom window. You left it unlocked before commencement—not the safest of moves, especially for a detective.”

“So you broke in before the Purge started?” Bucky asked, ignoring the dig at his “safety.” Generally speaking, he didn’t have to worry about people breaking into his home on any other night—his job was actually almost obsolete thanks to the Purge. “That’s still considered illegal, you know. I could have you arrested in twelve hours.”

“I’m not too worried about that.” She said without emotion, her eyes cold as she stared back at him. It almost seemed threatening.

Bucky eyed her, trying to piece together all of this information and see the bigger picture she was after. “You here to kill me then, Sweetheart?”

It seemed like the only logical explanation—people didn’t just break into other peoples’ houses on Purge night to compliment them. So he was surprised when she rolled her eyes and sighed as though he was being ridiculous. “Do I look like I’m here to kill you, Sweetheart?”

Bucky cocked a brow at that. “Can’t say for sure at this point.”

The woman—Evelyn—huffed, but rose slowly from her seat, hands raised. Giving him a meaningful look as if to say are you happy now, she turned in a circle, moving painstakingly slow, giving Bucky plenty of time to take her in. She was wearing dark, form-fitting jeans tucked into knee high black boots paired with a loose white t-shirt and a black jacket. No outward signs of any weapons, but Bucky had enough experience and common sense to know that she could be concealing something in her boots or her jacket.

“So, if you’re not here to kill me, why are you here?” he finally asked, deciding to play along for the moment, after she had made a full turn, coming to a stop to continue looking at him with that look of impatience as though he were wasting her time.

“I need your help,” she answered, gaze steady and tone serious as she looked back at him.

“Explain,” he said after a moment of hesitation.

“Everything you need to know is in there,” she said, jerking her head in the direction of the island.

His eyes left hers long enough to take note of the file that still lay there, before snapping back to hers. “So you broke into my house to make me read a file? Why don’t you just fucking cut to the chase so I can decide if I need to shoot you or not?”

“Shoot me or don’t,” she replied easily as though they were simply discussing the weather. “It won’t matter if you don’t help me.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Bucky snapped, beyond annoyed with the woman and her riddles.

She moved slowly, maintaining eye contact as she took something out of the file and held it out to him. “You ever heard of the Reaper?”

Bucky blinked at her, taking in her serious expression before refocusing on what she was holding. A letter. And based on what she had just asked him, he had a pretty good idea of what it said. This whole encounter suddenly made a lot more sense.

Bucky sighed deeply, cursing whoever he could think of for bringing this shit to his doorstep, before gesturing at Evelyn with his gun. “Sit back down. Hands flat on the countertop.”

He saw her clench her jaw before wordlessly complying, placing the letter on the corner of the island before doing as he said. As soon as she did, he shoved his gun into the waistband of his jeans and snatched the letter up.

Dear Ms. Evelyn Mason,

Today marks the first day after the 19thannual purge. Which means that it also marks your 364thday left to live.

By this point, I’m sure you already know who I am and what I will do to you once the clock strikes 7 on March 21st. You may think that you have time—to run, to hide, to save your life. But I must confess, Ms. Mason, that none have succeeded in escaping me and neither will you.

You may use the time you have left on this Earth to try to evade your fate, but we both know that in a year’s time, I’ll be holding your still beating heart in my hand. I do hope you’ll try though—it’s always so much more fun when I have to hunt you down.

So consider this your warning: on the 20thannual Purge, I will be coming for you, Ms. Mason. You have been marked. I hope you wear fear well, as it will be your constant companion for the next 364 days.

With Admiration,

The Reaper

Bucky felt sick. He had seen a lot of twisted stuff during his time overseas and as a detective, but it was rare that he saw evil of this variety.

Serial killers went almost extinct with the creation of the Purge. There were, of course, the exceptions who loved the thrill of the chase and couldn’t help themselves. But to hold a letter like this in his hand and to have the woman it was threatening sitting in his kitchen was a very different feeling than working a case from the precinct.

“So…” she said, and Bucky heard what sounded like the beginnings of fear in her voice as he read over the letter a second time. “Do you understand now?”

Bucky nodded slowly, hesitantly, because he understood what the letter meant but not how it applied to him. Though he had a feeling. “This the only one you got?”

“No,” she replied calmly, as though they weren’t discussing the details of her upcoming murder, though he could tell from the set of her shoulders and the glint in her eyes that she was more affected that she wanted to let on. “I received more letters like that one randomly throughout the year—counting down the days or commenting on my outfit that day. Random shit to remind me of what I had to look forward to. I received sixty-three, in total.”

“So,” Bucky started, placing the letter back on his island in an attempt to distance himself from it and the grip it already had on him. “Why are you here then?”

“Why do you think?” Her eyes flashed at him, showing him all the rage and fear that had likely had a hold on her for the past year. “I already told you, Detective Barnes. I need your help.”

“What can I do?” Bucky nearly shouted, throwing his hands up. “It’s the Purge. It’s legal and there’s nothing I can do about that. I’m off duty for the next twelve hours, lady. I couldn’t help you even if I wanted to.”

He was pacing now, something he didn’t even realize until he noticed the way Evelyn’s eyes were following his movements. He stopped abruptly, turning to face her again with a huff. “I’m sorry.”

That seemed to be the final nail in the coffin for her: her shoulders dropped, and her eyes went distant as they filled with sorrow. She didn’t look at him as she said, “That’s what they all said too.”

“What?” Bucky asked, eyes going wide as Evelyn stood and moved toward the front door. She didn’t answer, just turned to face him with an expectant expression.

They stood there like that for a long moment, neither of them saying anything as they watched each other. “You’re already locked down,” she finally said with a sigh and a jerky motion at the door. “You’ll want to unlock it quickly to let me out and then be ready to lock it back as soon as I’m gone. I’ll figure something else out.”

They both knew she wouldn’t.

Bucky shook his head, hating himself for it as he dug even deeper. “What did you mean? Who else said they were sorry?”

Evelyn cocked her head to the side and almost looked surprised, as if she hadn’t even realized she had said that. “You weren’t the first one I went to, you know. I took the letters to precincts all across the city, trying to get them to do something. But technically receiving mail isn’t illegal, and considering he was threatening to hurt me on Purge night specifically, there wasn’t anything they could do anyway. They were all sorry—I could even tell that some of them meant it. The second they saw the letter, they knew I was dead. I was the only one foolish enough to think I had a chance.”

The life seemed to be leeching out of her the longer she spoke—she had seemed so strong and sure before, but she was growing paler by the second and any will to fight for her life had faded. She had been counting on him to help her—she knew that there was no way to escape the Reaper and the death he brought with him without help. No one ever did.

And Bucky was just going to let her die.

“Why me?” Bucky asked, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

Her eyes snapped back to his since the first time he had told her no, and Bucky felt like he couldn’t breathe. “I asked around, and you’re the best detective in Brooklyn, James Barnes. A lot of police are content to live an easy life handing out speeding tickets since the Purge took care of a lot of the day-to-day shit. But you still do your job—you go after the people who deserve to be taken down. I thought if anyone would help me, it would be you. And I know that I put you at risk by sneaking in here like this, but I figured you would be more likely to help me if you didn’t know about it before. It’s easier to say no to a girl with a letter than a girl with 12 hours to live.” She finished her explanation with a wry smile, and Bucky felt like he had been punched in the gut.

“I am sorry,” she continued after a moment of him not saying anything, smile fading. “But I won’t force you to keep me here. I’ll go. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

He wasn’t sure who she was trying to reassure, him or herself, but it didn’t work either way. They both knew she was dead if she went out there alone, Reaper or not.

Ultimately, the fact that she was apologizing and trying to alleviate his guilt with false promises was what made his decision for him. Bucky had felt like a monster for years now, ever since… well, it didn’t matter. He couldn’t save them, but he would save her.

“What else you got in that folder?” he asked her, jerking his chin in the direction of his kitchen.

She blinked, processing his question before slowly answering. “All of the information I could find on the Reaper—the women he’s killed over the years, how he does it, past letters. Anything I could get my hands on.”

“Good,” Bucky nodded, turning and walking back to the kitchen. “Hopefully some of that will give us an idea of our plan of attack.”

He heard Evelyn follow him after a moment of hesitation, and once he stopped in front of the island to start riffling through her notes, he looked up to see her smiling at him in clear relief. “Thank you, Detective Barnes.”

“Bucky,” he said, extending a hand and feeling ten pounds of weight drop from his chest when she placed her hand in his and looked at him as though he had just saved her life. Even though he had been an ass at first and they still had the whole night to make it through, she was trusting him to get her through this.

“Evie,” she responded, dropping his hand and turning her attention to the folder. “So, where do we start Bucky?”

---

“Are you sure about this?” Bucky asked two hours later, looking at Evie with rising panic.

“Yeah,” she said, gripping the railing of his balcony and looking at the street below with none of the concern Bucky was currently feeling.

He wasn’t sure what it was about reckless blondes that he seemed to attract to him, but he was sure that he wouldn’t survive this night if she didn’t show just a little more care. He’d say she was worse than Steve, but Steve wouldn’t have waited this long to make the jump.

“You know the whole point of this is to keep you alive, right?”

Evie rolled her eyes, turning away from the metal railing to face him. “Yes, Bucky, I understand. But we’re not going to do that by locking me up in your apartment. We’ve already established that it’s not exactly Fort Knox. And based on his previous… Purges, we can guess that he’s been following me all night, just waiting to make contact. He already knows I’ve met with you, which means I need to get my ass on the street if this is going to work.”

“And what if it doesn’t?” Bucky asked, suddenly unsure of the plan that they had concocted. He knew it would be dangerous but knowing that and actively letting Evie do it is another thing. He’s a cop—he shouldn’t be allowing a civilian to do something batshit crazy like this.

“Then I’ll die.” She said this without a change in expression or any emotion. It was a fact that they both knew well, and Bucky was honestly impressed. Just a few hours ago she had shut down and given up at the thought of dying, but now that she had hope—now that he had given her some reason to hope—she was calm and ready to fight once more.

He was almost upset that the first time he got to meet a woman like this was after she had broken into his house during the Purge. It didn’t exactly allow for much time to consider the way his heart picked up when she smiled at him or that he liked the way her hair smelled.

There was a high chance that they were both about to die, so now was definitely not the time to be reliving his past as a man who could actually appreciate a beautiful woman. If anything, it was a reminder of why he couldn’t.

He took a deep, steadying breath. “Are you ready then?”

“Of course,” she replied, lips quirking up in a small smile.

“Good luck,” he said before shoving her over the edge.

She stumbled back, hitting the railing and toppling over it with a piercing scream. Bucky clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to go down and check on her. He knew that she should have landed on the dumpster below, and that from just one story up it wouldn’t hurt her too bad. Of course, that’s if everything went well.

He shook his head, stepping back inside his apartment. The next part of the plan was on Evie, so he could only hope for her sake that it went well. He’d be sure to be ready for his part, but it was up to Evie to get that far.

---

Evie hit the top of the (thankfully closed) dumpster with a crash before rolling off and onto the hard ground with an oompf.

She groaned, pushing herself up, careful to keep her cursing under her breath. The theatrics of her exit were painful, but necessary if they wanted to trick the Reaper.

She looed around, taking in her surroundings. The alleyway was dark and damp, as alleyways tended to be, and was thankfully empty of people. She stood on shaking legs and made her way to the street.

She could hear people screaming and bursts of gunfire from further down and squashed her fear down. This night would end one of two ways: with her death or the Reaper’s. Evie knew that, and she knew that her fear wouldn’t help her take down her would-be murderer. Remaining calm and collected would.

She took deep breaths as she creeped down the street, careful to stay to the shadows as much as possible. She thought of Bucky in an attempt to keep her mind occupied as she tried to stay out of trouble until thereal trouble came for her. She was surprised he had agreed to help her and beyond grateful. She just hoped that he would follow through with their plan—if he decided to go back on their deal, she was dead.

She was winding her way between streets, trying to make it seem like she didn’t have a destination in mind in case the Reaper happened to be watching her—which she was sure he was. It’s what he had promised he’d do, after all.

She had spent an hour or so like this, relatively close to her designated meeting point but still waiting for any sign of the Reaper when they saw her.

Shouts were thrown at her across the street seconds before gunfire was. Evie leapt for cover behind a car, peeking around the front at the men that were converging on her. They had stopped firing, knowing that she had nowhere to run. She could hear them talking to each other about what they would do to her, how they would kill her, things they may do before they did.

She closed her eyes, forcing down the bile in that was rising in her throat, and tried to come up with a plan that wouldn’t get her killed. She was prepared to face a serial killer that she was familiar with, not a group of assholes just looking for a quick kill.

Her hand went to her boot as her eyes snapped open, and she pulled out the pocket knife that was hidden there. It wasn’t much, and she was hoping to keep it hidden in case she needed it to use on the Reaper, but she was more than desperate at the moment.

“Hey there, honey,” the first man cooed at her as he reached the car. “If you’re good, we may let you—”

She didn’t let him finish, shooting up from the ground to slash at him with her knife. She swung wildly, given her inexperience and fear, but she hit him in the chest, slashing through his shirt and causing him to stumble back with a startled yell.

She took off down the street, taking advantage of their momentary distraction, but they were already hot on her heels.

They seemed to be enjoying the chase, based on their whooping and the disgusting words they were screaming at her—which was lucky for Evie, in a way, as that meant they weren’t shooting her.

However, she didn’t feel lucky when the first one caught up with her and grabbed a fist full of her hair.

“Where do you think you’re runnin’ off to, sweetheart?” he sneered down at her as he yanked her to the ground. “We weren’t finished yet.”

Evie screamed as the grip on her hair tightened, and she tried to turn and slash at him with the knife she still had in her hand. He laughed, grabbing her wrist and twisting it until she dropped the knife. “Didn’t you hear me? You ain’t gettin’ off that easy bitch.”

He pulled her forward by her wrist and let go of her hair to grab her chin, grinning down at her. Evie froze, blinking up at him. It was the first time she had gotten a look at him and his asshole friends, and she was suddenly struck by how normal he looked.

He probably worked a normal, nine to five job. Maybe had a wife and kids. She wondered if they knew where he was, what he was doing. If they knew that he was the kind of man who, given the chance, would murder a woman for doing nothing more than walking by him.

She doubted they cared.

“See sweetheart?” he leaned in to whisper in her ear as his buddies circled them like sharks. Evie shuddered, unintentionally remembering the way Bucky had called her that only a few hours ago—how it didn’t sound so horrible coming from him. If only he could see her now. She couldn’t even make it far enough to make their plan work. He was right.

“I’m not too bad to look at,” the man continued to breathe in her ear, but Evie wasn’t listening anymore. Bucky was not going to be right about her. “I promise it won’t be too bad. If you’re good, you might even en—gah.”

Evie, finally gathering her wits enough to do something, had just kneed him in the groin. Probably not the smartest move, considering the men surrounding her with guns, but she wasn’t going to go down without some sort of fight.

He dropped her wrist and steeped away from her, clutching himself and cursing her. Evie only had a second to feel proud before another one of the goons grabbed her from behind, spinning her around. She punched him in the throat before he could restrain her, and she moved to run again, but was quickly stopped by the next one.

It continued on like this for what felt like hours but was probably only a few minutes: Evie scrambled to fight back, using what power and defensive moves she had to hold them off, but there were more of them and they were all larger than her. It didn’t take long before she was being pinned to the ground, laying face-down with a gun to her head.

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” he snarled, breath hot against the side of her face as he panted. “As much as we’d love to have fun with ya, I think I’m just gonna have to put you down.”

Evie struggled fiercely but unsuccessfully against his hold and felt a single tear roll down her cheek. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all.

“Unfortunately,” a smooth voice cut in. “I can’t let you do that.”

Evie heard the gunshot only a millisecond before she felt the spray of blood against her neck and the man’s hold on her release as he fell to the side, dead.

She screamed, scrambling back from the body as best she could as more gunshots sounded all around her. She had just lifted herself up onto her knees with shaking arms when the last shot hit its mark and silence consumed her.

“Hello, Ms. Mason.”

Evie whipped around, eyes wild as they landed on the neatly-dressed woman in a black trench coat and dress pants. She smiled at her, blood-red lips striking against the night, and Evie felt her stomach drop.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

---

Bucky paced around the roof. Again.

He checked his watch. Again.

He swore under his breath and regretted agreeing to this insane plan. Again.

Evie had been gone for two hours now. That was plenty of time for her to draw the Reaper out and lead her to the corner across from Dot’s Diner, just as they had discussed.

Bucky was waiting on the roof of an apartment building across the street, gun out and ready to shoot the Reaper the second he came in his sights. But it had been two hours and there was still no sign of Evie or her psychopathic shadow. Plenty of the normal crazy Purge bullshit, but not Evie.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he was worried.

Bucky tried to tell himself that he should just go home. He had no obligation to Evie and her baggage. He didn’t even know her six hours ago, but he was out here freezing his ass off for her.

But he knew that if he left, said “screw it” and went home, Evie would die. If she wasn’t already dead.

“Fuck it,” Bucky mumbled, packing up his gun.

A sniper was supposed to be patient—the key was to be ready the second the target presented themselves, not to go out hunting for them. But he may have only known Evie for less than a day, but she reminded him of what it was that the Purge took away from people like her. People like them.

And if he were in the business of being honest with himself—which he fortunately wasn’t—he would admit that he had felt some sort of spark between them as they had plotted their asinine plan together, and he wanted the opportunity to get to know her better, preferably when her life wasn’t at stake.

And he couldn’t very well do that if she was already dead or dying.

He stepped out on the street, one hand on the gun strapped to his hip, the other clutching the strap of the one that was slung across his back. He had been watching this area for the past two hours, so he was very familiar with its traps and the people that were stalking it, and he set out on the path that he knew would keep him out of the line of fire and would hopefully lead him to Evie.

---

“Who are you?” Evie swallowed thickly, staring at the woman with what she hoped was a detached expression.

“Oh, I think you know, Ms. Mason.” The woman’s smile turned mocking, and she looked at Evie with feigned pity. “Get up,” she ordered, gesturing at her with her gun. “I’ve come to collect, and it’s no fun if you just lie on the ground like that.”

Evie stood slowly, mind racing. “Collect? You mean my heart.”

“Of course,” the Reaper replied almost cheerfully. “I’ve already told you. I’m going to cut your heart out of your chest and add it to my collection.”

“Right,” Evie acknowledged. “Your collection. Why do you do that exactly?”

The Reaper blinked, her smile slipping for the first time. “What?”

Evie immediately wanted to kick herself—why the fuck would she say that? She was facing the person who had been threatening her for the past year, someone she had wrongly assumed was a man at that, and now she was asking her why she was a murderous hag. Well, she might as well lean into it if she was going to die anyway.

“I mean why are you doing this? Why me and why do you cut people’s hearts out? You have to realize how fucking crazy that is!” Evie rushed out, moving to back away from her before freezing the moment she retrained the gun on her chest.

“It’s my right, given to me by the Founding Fathers,” the Reaper said, stepping closer to Evie. Now that she was standing in the light of a streetlamp, she could see that she had light brown hair, pale blue eyes, and a softly rounded face. Again, Evie was struck by how normal she would look if not for the half-crazed smile and the gun in her hand. “I’m going to kill you because I can. But I’m going to enjoy it because I love the feeling of a dead woman’s heart in my hands. Now, turn around and start walking. We have places to be.”

Evie hesitated, looking from the barrel of the gun to the Reaper’s eyes. This looked bad. Really bad.

She obviously couldn’t lead her to the corner where Bucky was waiting for her, considering it was in the opposite direction and the Reaper seemed to have an idea of where she wanted her to go in mind. She had no more weapons on her and the Reaper had the gun. She needed more time.

“So, you can kill me and you want to kill me, but that still doesn’t answer why. I mean, if you’re gonna cut my heart out, don’t you think I deserve to know why you picked me? Why are you doing this to me?”

The Reaper sighed, looking impatient, but replied. “There’s no rhyme or reason, Ms. Mason. That’s all part of the fun. I pick my target out the day after the Purge, and planning begins then. I saw you in a coffee shop—we ordered the same drink, and I noticed that you had the same taste in books. I like to see a little bit of myself in all of my victims, you see. Though I’ll admit, you were much more resourceful than I would have been. Going to a man like James Barnes for help was smart. Did you know that his entire family was murdered six years ago? It was on a Purge night, just like this one.”

Evie felt nauseous as she shook her head no. She hadn’t done that much research on Bucky, but now she wished she had. She didn’t know that his family had been killed during a Purge. If she had, she never would have pulled him into this. He had suffered enough because of this holiday. She got the feeling that the murderer knew what she was thinking as her painted lips curved into a sly smile.

“Ah,” she sighed. “Well, I’m sure you can see why he threw you out—quite literally I might add. He’s not been much of a people person since I’m afraid. A nice effort on your part, but some things were just meant to be. He had to tell you no so that I can look you in the eyes as I cut your still-beating heart out with my knife. It’s the way you were meant to die, Ms. Mason, and there’s no shame in that.”

Evie’s breath caught. So she had believed their little stunt—she didn’t expect for Bucky to be waiting on her. And she had just reminded her of the Reaper’s biggest flaw: she liked routine, and she liked for things to follow her plan.

She wasn’t going to shoot her if she wanted to get her heart before she died.

With that thought bolstering her, Evie charged at the Reaper.

It caught her off guard, if the woman’s wide eyes and gaping mouth were anything to go by. Evie knocked her to the ground, causing her to lose her grip on the gun and send it skidding away. She had briefly considered trying to end it there, kill the killer before she could kill her, but Evie wasn’t a fighter, let alone a killer, and she was sure there was a reason that the Reaper’s victims never survived. It would almost be arrogant to think that she could end it herself when so many other’s couldn’t—Evie wasn’t anything special.

So she hopped back up and took off in the direction of where she could only hope Bucky was waiting for her.

As she anticipated, the Reaper had regained her wits after only a second of confusion and was now hotly pursuing her. Evie was close—she had been relatively near the meet point when she had run into the Purgers, and she was just a couple of streets away now. But it was still too far. Over the beating of her heart and her feet slapping against the pavement, she heard a soft thwipand felt something bite into the back of her thigh.

She tried to ignore it, to keep running and make it to Bucky, but her whole leg was suddenly numb and she was falling.

Evie caught herself on the sidewalk with a gasp, feeling the numbness spread. What the fuck did she do?

The Reaper’s smiling face reappeared in her vision and Evie felt every last scrap of her will to live fall away. She hadn’t made it. All of this, and she still wasn’t strong enough to make it.

“A tranquilizer gun,” she happily explained, holding it up to show her. “Of course, I need something to ensure you can’t fight me back. Everyone always expects some big, strong man, but ladies like us? We need a little help to make things go smoothly. Usually I slip a sedative into their food or drink before the Purge if I can—technically illegal, I know, but who are you going to tell? You were a little overly cautious today though and I couldn’t, so I brought this just in case. Good thing, too. You had more fight than I thought, Ms. Mason. Which is always a lovely trait, but I’m afraid it means we’ll have to cut this evening a bit short.” She whipped out a long knife and grabbed Evie’s shoulder, rolling her onto her back and straddling her hips. “I can’t have you running off anymore, you see.”

She brought the knife down in a sweeping arc, and without even noticing, Evie’s arms came up to stop it. They were still mostly responsive, thankfully, but Evie could feel the numbness taking over her body and knew it was only a matter of time.

“Just. Let. Me. Kill. You. Already,” the monster grunted between gritted teach, pressing down with more force.

“How about no,” Evie spat back, her mind working double to formulate even that response. She knew it was pointless, that the Reaper had won the moment Evie had received the letter, but she wasn’t going to just let hermurder her.

Her arms ached from the effort before the numbness slowly seeped in to relieve it, and Evie had resigned herself to her fate when she heard the gunshot crack in the night.

There was warmth on her face and suddenly the woman on top of her was crashing forward, Evie just barely managing to jerk the now limp hands away from her to drop the knife next to her head.

Her mind was cloudy and muddled and she was just so tired. The last thing she saw before she let herself fall into sleep was the frowning face of what must have been an angel.

If this was death, she didn’t mind it so much.

---

Evie awoke slowly and painfully with mumbled curses and a lot of confusion.

She sat up carefully, taking in her surroundings. She was lying in a bed with a blue comforter, in a room with bare, white walls and little else. She recognized this room.

As though to confirm her suspicions, Bucky breezed into the room with a bottle of water. “Oh,” he said, coming around to sit on the edge of the bed next to her. “You’re awake already. Good.”

“Already?” Evie asked, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and shaking her head. “How long have I been out? What happened?”

Bucky handed her the bottle of water, allowing her to take greedy gulps of it as he answered her. “Just about six hours or so. She hit you with a tranq, and I wasn’t sure how big of a dose it was. I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead and got all of the blood off of ya—couldn’t really tell how injured you were with all of it. Good news is that other than a few scrapes and bruises, you’re fine. You survived.”

He gave her a small smile, and everything seemed to rush back to her, including her drugged-out thoughts about angels. Her cheeks burned as she handed back the water bottle. “Yeah, thanks to you.”

Bucky shrugged, but still seemed to be happier than she had ever seen him before. Which wasn’t saying much, honestly. “Maybe, but you’re the one who dragged me into it. So really, it’s still kind of your doing.”

Evie nodded slowly, debating on whether she wanted to say anything or not. It didn’t take long to decide; her mind was still a bit muddled and Evie had always been one to say what she was thinking anyway. “She told me about your family. The Reaper, I mean.”

It was all she needed to say to gain Bucky’s understanding. “Ah.”

That was all he said, and Evie immediately regretted bringing it up. “I’m sorry. I would have never dragged you into this if I had known. I don’t know how or why she knew, and I wish she hadn’t told me, but I just wanted you to know that I am truly sorry for all of this.”

Bucky shrugged, eyes trained on the water bottle as he picked at the label. “It’s fine. It’s not like it’s some secret. I just—I’ve always hated this night and what it represents, and I used to dream about doing something about it. But after my family—after they were killed, it just seemed so pointless. The Purge destroys lives. It’s what it was meant to do. So why try to fight it? The best I could do was keep my distance and hope I never had to watch it destroy mineagain.”

“So why did you? Fight for me, I mean,” Evie pressed, voice soft and quiet in the overwhelming silence of the room.

Bucky’s eyes snapped up to hers. “You gave me a reason to, I guess. I couldn’t save them from the Purge, but I could at least try to save you.”

“Thank you,” Evie breathed. “I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

Bucky opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the shrill sound of the siren. Evie looked out of the window, surprised to see the first tinges of sunlight streaming in, and breathed a sigh of relief.

It was over.

“Well,” Bucky said, smirking down at her. “You’ve officially survived the Purge. What are you going to do next?”

Evie shrugged, smiling back at him. “I don’t know. I was pretty sure that I’d be dead, so I didn’t exactly make any plans.”

“Well,” Bucky drawled, leaning back against his headboard so that he was reclined beside her in the bed. “How do you feel about taking a long nap and then getting some food?”

Evie’s smile turned mischievous as she raised a slender eyebrow. “With you?”

Bucky shrugged, but his eyes flashed down at you playfully. “If you want. I figured the least I can do is let you stay here and feed you after you almost died.”

“Mmhmm,” she agreed, rolling over so that her back was facing him, giving him enough room to lay down. “Sleep first, then you can take me on a date.”

Bucky laughed, and she felt him lay down next to her, though he was careful to stay above the covers and not touch her. “I never said it was a date.”

“I know,” Evies said, closing her eyes and nestling into the blankets. “But I did.”

Bucky chuckled, but didn’t disagree. “Goodnight, Evie.”

“’Night Bucky.”

*One Year Later*

“You ready, Sweetheart?” Bucky asked, glancing back over his shoulder to see his girlfriend lacing up her boots.

She looked up at him, rolling her eyes. “Yes, Bucky. We’ve been over this a million times.” Evie stood, readjusting her belt and the gun that it held. Once she was satisfied with the way everything was situated, she strode over to Bucky with the coy smile he loved so well. “We’ll be fine.”

Bucky grabbed her by the beltloop of her jeans, inclining his head down to kiss her. He tasted the familiar cherry of her chap stick and hummed happily into her mouth, causing her to smile. He didn’t like that she was risking herself, but he couldn’t deny that seeing her like this did things to him.

“I just need to be sure you’ll be okay,” he mumbled against her lips, reluctant to pull away.

Evie planted a hand on his chest and stepped back with a breathy chuckle. “I know, and I will be. I’ve been training all year to do this, and we’re going to do what we can to fight the Purge. Together.”

“Together,” Bucky agreed, eyes raking over her tactical attire and numerous weapons. If anyone were ready to take on the city’s worst Purgers, it was his girl. “Alright, Baby,” he said, opening his door as the sirens blared. “Let’s do this.”

Taglist: @everythingbooknerd

#marvel #mcu fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x OC #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x you #murder/serial killer au #rosie300 #my writing #tw: violence #tw:language #tw: blood #tw: implied rape threat #tw: murder #tw: death

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vicccwrites · 7 years ago

Text

The 9Spies Heist

Part 2 - Previous Part / Masterlist

(A/N: Whoo finally!! Sorry for the wait, but at least this chapter is on the longer side ^^ This week is finals week, so it might be another little bit before part 3 is out,,,, Anyway, I hope you enjoy nonetheless <33)

Linong opened the limo door and slid gracefully into a seat in the back. The driver, a short male that didn’t look too much older than Linong himself, raised a thin eyebrow.

“Chen Linong?” He nodded at the driver. “Congrats on getting into 9Spies. I’m You Zhangjing, resident hacker and communications extraordinaire. You’ll probably be added to my team, so it’s nice meeting you,” he said with a small smile.

“It’s nice meeting you too, Zhangjing-ge,” Linong replied politely, wanting to make a good impression on his new teammate, especially since he didn’t know much about the agency or how it was run. He was pretty much just going off of the snippets of information he had been able to glean from his conversations with Kaihao, which wasn’t a whole lot. Zhangjing laughed at the response, a cheeky grin appearing on his face.

“You can lighten up a bit! Don’t worry so much – I can see it in your face – you’re going to do great. Tingting’s going to just love you, Kunkun and Ziyi too…. Anyway, my point is that you’re going to fit in fine, so you can just relax!!” Zhangjing rambled, his easy-going nature making Linong feel more at ease. The two managed to fill the silence with small talk, and before Linong knew it they were pulling into a huge modern office building.

“Woah…” Linong breathed. In front of him stood a huge tower, so tall that it was practically a skyscraper, complete with floor to ceiling mirrored glass windows. If he didn’t already know that it was an office, he would have guessed that it was a high-class hotel. It certainly looked expensive enough to be one.

“Welcome to 9Spies HQ, the center of the agency – and to some extent the center of the whole spy industry!” Zhangjing introduced, giggling at Linong’s awestruck expression. “Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Linong just nodded his head dumbly, briefly wondering how many surprises the day would bring before shaking his head and following his new teammate out of the limo and into the building.

He trailed after Zhangjing through a maze of corridors, trying to commit the names of the various rooms to his memory as the shorter of the two rattled on a seemingly endless list of locations. How many computer labs and libraries did this place have? Not to mention the twenty or so weaponry storage rooms and gyms that seemed to be around nearly every corner, and the ridiculous amount of people Linong met in the span of his short “tour” of the building. 10 minutes, 45 rooms, and over 30 introductions later, he was more than a bit confused.

“Ok, so this is the conference hallway, and Zhang PD should be waiting for you… Aha! Room 929, here you are.” Zhangjing said before gesturing to a doorway. “I have to head to the common room now, but PD will probably lead you there after he answers any questions that you might have about 9Spies. See you in a bit!” The elder waved goodbye, and just like that he was off in another direction, leaving a hopelessly lost Linong in his wake. Common room? PD? What on earth was Zhangjing talking about? Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, Linong took a deep breath and opened the door to the conference room.

Just through the doorway sat a man who Linong recognised at once - Zhang Yixing. Head of 9Spies and more than an accomplished agent in his own right, he was known by virtually everyone in the industry. Despite the fact, however, he specialized in disguise and was rumoured to be the best infiltration spy in the whole of China. Linong stared, slack-jawed. Zhang Yixing – THE Zhang Yixing – was going to be his boss. Forcing himself to return from his thoughts, he knocked lightly on the door, alerting Yixing to his presence.

“Hello! You must be Chen Linong. I’m Zhang Yixing, CEO and founder of 9Spies Agency, though you can refer to me as PD or Zhang PD if you would like. It tends to make me seem less intimidating. Please, take a seat.” Zhang Yixing – no, Zhang PD – smiled warmly and motioned to the chair across from him at the conference table. Linong returned the greeting with a smile of his own before moving to sit as directed.

“You must be really excited to meet everyone and get settled in properly, so I’ll keep this brief. But first, I believe congratulations are in order!! I’m really excited that you decided to accept our invitation, and I hope you will enjoy your time as a 9Spies agent as much as I’m sure we’ll love having you! I’ll just go over some of the basics and then we’ll head over to Nine Percent’s – that’ll be your team, by the way – team common room, which is basically just a hangout and work area for when you aren’t in the labs.

“Right, so as I mentioned, you’ll be part of our latest spy team, Nine Percent. The team consists of 8 other members – Cai Xukun, Fan Chengcheng, Huang Minghao, Lin Yanjun, Zhu Zhengting, Wang Ziyi, Wang Linkai and You Zhangjing. You’ve already met Zhangjing, and you’ll get a chance to get to know the others in just a bit.

“Your role within the team will be to act as “the brain” – which mainly involves gathering intelligence on missions, along with helping out the others with field work. You also have quite a bit of experience with strategy and planning, so you could probably help out there too. There tends to be quite a bit of overlap between the roles, just help out where you can as a general rule of thumb.” Zhang PD informed Linong. “Any other questions?”

Linong was just about to shake his head when Yixing abruptly started talking again.

“Oh, also – we do have fully-furnished dorms available for all agents under our name, and while they were originally intended for late nights in the middle of tough cases, many of our agents do choose to live there 24/7 for convenience’s sake. They’re connected directly to your common room, so in that sense I guess they would be more of mini-apartments? Anyway, just something to keep in mind. It’s completely understandable if you would prefer to live at home and choose to commute here for missions.”

Linong didn’t know if he would really want to live in this building for the foreseeable future, especially since he couldn’t drive and didn’t know the neighbourhood at all; but his inner nerd could definitely see the appeal in living in, what was essentially, geek heaven. There was literally state-of-the-art technology everywhere here, a stark contrast from his beat-up laptop at home that would barely start up! Besides, he needed any advantage he could get, with his other teammates probably having way more experience than him and all.

He nodded at his boss’ words, more intrigued and excited than ever to officially be a 9Spies agent and explore the HQ that seemed to be full of secrets. First, however, Linong had a question to ask, “Do I need to sign any paperwork? I would prefer to have a contract drawn up through the proper channels instead of just a verbal agreement if that’s not too much of a hassle…”

Zhang PD immediately perked up at inquiry. “Of course! Sorry, I’m a bit all over the place at the moment. Here you go.” He replied smoothly before sliding over a stack of papers, which Linong accepted with a quiet say of thanks.

Scanning over the document, Linong couldn’t help but nod his head. Professionally worded to a tee, as expected from the high-profile company that 9Spies was, the contract was reasonable and fair. A quick but thorough read proved that just as he first thought, the terms were very clear-cut, and way more lenient than the slave contract he had feared. Show up, complete missions, and get paid – 9Spies will take care of the rest. From chauffeur services to access to document databases – heck, even to provided dry-cleaning, they really covered the complete spectrum of ‘the rest’. No wonder Kaihao-ge had done nothing but sung the company praises!

Without a single doubt in his mind, Linong went ahead and signed his name on the contract. There were no loopholes (at least from what he could tell), and he figured that there was no reason why he shouldn’t trust this deal, other than the fact that it almost seemed too good to be true. Looking up, he shot Zhang PD a radiant smile and handed him back the paperwork, which was promptly filed away into a briefcase.

“Ok, now that the admin stuff has been taken care of, why don’t I give you an official tour of HQ? I’m sure that Zhangjing probably went over the basics, but the layout can be pretty confusing when you first start out… or even after you’ve been here for a while,” Zhang PD empathized. Well, if what his teammate had gone over was just the “basic” portion of the layout, Linong was fairly sure he’d never learn his way around this building. Mentally preparing himself for what was sure to be an onslaught of information, he stood up and followed his boss out of the conference room, into the maze of hallways that made up the office.

“The building has 25 floors above ground, which are the resource and lab floors; and an additional 10 basement floors where the common rooms and dorms are. For each of the top 25 floors, there are 3-digit room numbers assigned to each room. The first digit is the floor number, and the last 2 digits are the numbers that give the rough location of the room. For example, we were just in room 929. That’s the 29th room on the 9th floor. I get it’s really confusing, but the room numbers are engraved above every doorway, and they’re arranged numerically, so you’ll eventually sort of get the hang of it - hopefully. To be honest, I have no clue why the architects set it up that way, but it makes this building way more secure since any potential infiltrators will never be able to navigate it properly.

“Now as for the basement floors, they’re thankfully a lot simpler. Since Nine Percent will be 9Spies’ biggest – and hopefully best – team, you guys will have a whole floor to yourselves whereas the rest of the floors house 2-3 teams each. Each floor has its own password that you enter into a keypad in the elevator, which by the way is behind a secret door and separate from the main elevator set – have I mentioned that this building is insanely complicated? Because it definitely is, as you’ve probably already figured out for yourself—Ah! Here it is, pull the third book from the right and it should open up the doorway,” Yixing rambled on to a bewildered Linong as he somehow managed to open up a passageway that led to yet another hallway from what looked to be an inconspicuous bookcase. Yeah, Linong was never going to learn his way around HQ, better-than-average brain or not.

The pair stepped into what Linong could only assume was the second set of elevators at the end of the hall, seeing as there was a keypad where one could input their “password”, and it was, well, an elevator.

“The password to your common room is ‘Nongfu Spring Vitamin Water’, and before you ask, yes, it’s named after the drink. Why Minghao would do that, I don’t know. Then again, when it comes to that kid, you can never tell what he’s thinking. You’ll see what I mean in a moment,” Zhang PD explained with a resigned sigh as he keyed the password in. The elevators started moving and Linong fervently hoped that the rest of the day wouldn’t be as hectic as it had been so far, because he wasn’t sure how much more it would take before his brain would be sent into overdrive.

#nine percent #nine percent scenarios #idol producer #idol producer scenarios #chen linong #cai xukun #nine percent fanfic #nine percent fic #justin huang #huang minghao #justin #fan chengcheng #lin yanjun #zhu zhengting #xiao gui #wang linkai #wang ziyi #you zhangjing

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jarienn972 · 7 years ago

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The Right Place - Chapter Three

This chapter isn’t quite as long as the last one, but there’s still quite a bit happening. This installment features the first of several flashbacks which will shift POV to different perspectives, each providing new insight to the mystery.

From the beginning on Tumblr: Prologue/Chap One Chap Two

Also on AO3 and FF.net

Tuesday afternoon, Portland Harbor

The drive to the harbor took almost exactly fifteen minutes despite hitting nearly every traffic light red on their way. Deputy McCallen pulled the early 2000s era faded beige or maybe pale gold unmarked Ford Taurus into the parking lot of a dated but well maintained convenience store that had at one time also been a gas station. Still bearing the weathered awning that once covered the pumps, Scott's Mart had long ago stopped selling any fuel other than propane to focus on the store and its fledgling coffee shop. Only a few blocks away from the revitalized Old Port area where many of the former warehouses had been converted to nightclubs and restaurants, this side of the harbor near the ferry terminal had clung to its maritime roots, frequented more by commuters and commercial fishermen than tourists or trendy locals.

McCallen already knew bits and pieces of the area's history both from having grown up here in Portland as well as from information Sgt. Haviland had shared with him earlier that morning. This shop's current owner was Jean Scott, the blonde haired fifty-something woman from the security video who was the third generation of the Scotts to operate the store, but first to be forced to make drastic changes to how her business was run so she could adapt to the new harbor front development. Her business survived mostly from her regular customers – dock workers, fishermen and the daily commuters arriving and departing from the busy ferries serving the outer islands. Her enviable location only a block from the terminal was predominately what had kept her business afloat.

During the drive over, McCallen had attempted to keep his questions related to the investigation, not wanting to offend Emma with unprofessional inquiries that would make him appear inexperienced, but he found that a few nagging queries just wouldn't remain silent – one of which made its way to his lips as he turned off the engine of the Taurus.

"Okay, I have to know something," he began, shifting to face his passenger. "What's the significance of the jewelry?"

"The jewelry? What jewelry?" Emma wondered, confused at the sudden seemingly irrelevant question.

"Your husband's jewelry – those ornate rings, the skull and crossbones necklace – like something right out of a pirate movie. Does he have some sort of pirate fetish or something?" His inquiry caught her so unprepared that she nearly choked while trying to suppress a giggle.

"Well, that's another really long story…," she chuckled. "I wouldn't even know where to begin. Suffice it to say he really loves the sea."

"So – no fingerprints in the system, no driver's license, a potentially disturbing fascination with pirates… I've got a feeling there are a whole lot of 'long stories' involved here…"

"You have absolutely no idea," Emma laughed as she pushed open the passenger side door and climbed out of the car while McCallen shook his head in mock frustration.

"Think maybe you'll fill me in on some of those long stories as this case goes on?" he asked as he exited the car. "Like what possessed you into making the decision to come over here with me rather than staying with your husband at the hospital?"

"That's an easy one to answer. I know for a fact that Killian would rather have me out here trying to track down the people who hurt him instead of sitting uselessly by his bedside feeling sorry for him. He'd never allow that. As for the rest, you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" he mumbled as they strolled toward the shop's front door which bore a very large "CLOSED" sign even though they could clearly see the proprietor inside as she attempted to replace a broken shelf on a display case. McCallen rapped loudly on the glass which garnered an angry shout from inside:

"We're closed! Just like the sign says."

"Ms. Scott? I'm Deputy McCallen with the Cumberland County Sheriff's Department. We spoke briefly earlier and I'm here to ask you a few more questions if you don't mind, remember?"

"I've already talked to Portland PD about the robbery," the woman shouted back. "I don't know what else I could possibly tell you that I didn't already tell them."

"Ms. Scott," the deputy persisted. "I'm not here to ask you questions about the robbery per se. I'm investigating a different case – what might be an attempted homicide."

"Attempted homicide?" the woman's tone softened becoming more quizzical as she placed the shelf bracket onto the tile floor, then stood up and walked over to the door. "What attempted homicide and what the hell does it have to do with me?" she asked the deputy through the door, not yet convinced to open it for the young man and his blonde companion with the messy ponytail and a no-nonsense scowl etched onto her face.

"The man the robbers took hostage two days ago – he turned up half dead on Little Diamond Island later that day…" McCallen informed her.

"Wait – the guy in the leather jacket?" Jean Scott asked, clearly surprised as she immediately unlocked the door and pushed it open. "The good looking British guy who was here in my shop was the unidentified person they were talking about on the news last night?"

"We're pretty sure he was," the deputy replied as the shopkeeper stepped aside, now eagerly inviting both of her guests inside. "We're hoping you can help us figure out how he got out there."

"Yeah, sure…," Jean said, her demeanor completely changed now as she closed the door behind them and relocked it. "I don't know how much I can help you, but I'll tell you this much, the guy probably saved my life. Guess I owe him a few minutes of my time to try and answer your questions."

"We really appreciate it, Ms. Scott," Emma spoke up. "My name is Emma Jones, Sheriff of the town of Storybrooke," she decided to use the professional title to introduce herself to establish her relevance in the investigation. "The man in the leather jacket who was here on Sunday was my husband, Killian, who also serves as Deputy Sheriff in our department."

"Killian, huh? He never mentioned what his name was, but he kept positioning himself between the robbers and me. He wouldn't ever let them get too close," Jean stated. "Him being a deputy makes sense now. He just stayed calm and kept talking to them – kind of like he'd done it before, you know?"

"What can you tell us about that morning leading up to the robbery and hostage situation?" McCallen asked as he withdrew his notepad and pen.

"I really already went over this with the cops," the shopkeeper groaned, turning her back to them as she took a step toward her coffee shop counter in the rear of the store. "Do you really want the full replay?"

"It would be a huge help to us," Emma pleaded as Jean continued over to the counter then reached across it to press a button on her industrial sized coffee maker, positioning a large chrome carafe onto the base before plopping herself onto one of three barstools.

"Well, then, coffee's brewing…," Jean sighed. "You two aren't in a hurry, are you?"

Two days earlier

Sunday had started out as a typical weekend morning – the usuals dropping by for a cup and a chat before heading out to wherever they spent their day whether that might be work or play. It had been, for the most part, a lovely day – bright and sunny although still a tad chilly for April, but it had been exceptionally windy. She'd glanced out the front windows on a few occasions to spy her hand-lettered sign swaying on its post and watched the steel awning above the long absent gas and go area occasionally heave with a strong gust. She made a mental note to have the boys next door check it out once the wind died down, thankful that at least these weren't gale force winds or she likely would have lost a section by now.

Mid-morning was always the lull of the day - especially on the weekends. Ferry traffic slowed and customers were infrequent although usually things picked up as it got closer to lunch time when a few regular patrons would drop in for a sandwich from her cooler or just another steaming hot cup of joe to thaw their insides. Some days, it seemed as though the handful of repeat customers she had was all that was keeping her going, but Jean Scott wasn't ready to throw in the towel just yet. This was more than just a business to her – it was her family's pride and joy. The shop had stood here on the harbor, a block from the Portland ferry terminal, for nearly fifty years and Jean was now the third generation of her family to run it, following in her father and grandfather's footsteps. So much had changed down here on the waterfront in all of those years, but she wasn't ready to part with the shop just yet, never mind the constant badgering she got from developers who wanted her to sell to them. It just wasn't time for that yet.

A little after 10:30am, she'd started cleaning out one of her two largest coffee carafes in preparation for the lunch rush when she'd heard the little electronic buzzer sound that informed her a customer had entered the shop, a feature she'd recently installed for times like these when her head was buried under the counter. Alerted that she was no longer alone in the shop, she perked her head up to see if it was one of her usuals, but instead of a regular customer, she laid eyes on a man she'd never seen before. There wasn't a single thing about this man's appearance that would have led her to believe he was from this area looking as out of place on this harbor as anyone could imagine. He stood not quite six feet tall wearing a black leather motorcycle style jacket adorned with silver zippers and buckles over a neatly pressed indigo blue Oxford shirt and what appeared to be a black leather vest.

But it wasn't just his clothing that drew her attention, it was the total image he presented. He wore his chestnut brown hair short and sported several days growth of neatly trimmed stubble along his jawline and upper lip that lent to his roguish charm. She wasn't really certain how to describe his demeanor but it essentially came down to a mix of biker tough meets Harvard scholar – his air of confidence oddly captivating as he stood next to the checkout counter.

"Morning!" she called out, scurrying from behind the coffee shop counter to greet her new customer. "Welcome to Scott's Mart. What can I do for you this morning?"

"I was told by a neighboring establishment that I could get a decent warm beverage here while I await the next ferry over to Peaks Island," the man replied in a strongly accented voice she suspected was British. She could see that his face and ears were flush from the cold and wind, but he didn't seem the type to complain about a chill in the air.

"You sure can get a warm beverage here," Jean smiled. "What's your preference – coffee or tea?"

"Preference would be rum but this hardly looks like a tavern so I'll settle for whatever you've got handy."

"Well then, have a seat. I'll have a fresh pot brewed in no time," she snickered.

"Much appreciated," he responded, flashing a huge smile that would have made her weak in the knees were she twenty years younger. "Don't suppose you would know what time the next ferry is scheduled to depart, would you?" he asked, placing a paper sack that she recognized as coming from the neighboring Mac's Maritime Supply store onto the counter before taking a seat on the furthest of the three barstools – the one closest to her six foot by three foot aquarium – by far her favorite feature of the entire shop. She loved to watch her vibrantly hued tropical fish swimming around the tank as they could always calm her on a stressful day.

"There's a schedule posted on the wall to your right," she informed him, "but most of these ferries have been on the same schedule since I was a kid so I can tell you that the next ferry over to Peaks leaves at 11:25am." She circled around to the rear of the counter and retrieved an alabaster ceramic mug from the shelf. "How do you like your coffee, sir?"

"As strong as you can get it and straight black," the stranger replied with a wide grin and for the first time since he'd walked into her shop, Jean realized he had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. Damn! Where had this guy come from?

"Haven't seen you around here before…," she started making a little small talk and flirting unmercifully as she filled the mug nearly to the brim with the steaming dark liquid and expertly slid it across the countertop to her customer.

"Thank you," he replied, gracing her with yet another amazing smile. Was this her lucky day or what? "And, no – I'm not from your city. I sailed into the vicinity this morning only to have the bowline on my mainsail snap. They didn't have the proper tensile strength line at the shop I visited out on the island so the gentleman there recommended an establishment here on the mainland."

"Not sure I'd call Mac's Supply shop an 'establishment', but he's got the best inventory in the area," she chuckled.

"Indeed. Found a suitable implement to at least get me back home – although it'll probably take me a fair portion of the afternoon to get it tied off properly again."

"So you're a sailor?" she questioned, enthralled by this fascinating new customer. "You don't look like any sailor I've seen around these parts…"

"Ah… looks can be deceiving, milady," he replied with a devilish smirk. God, this guy oozed charm, she thought… And that accent… She could listen to him talk all day, but she had to keep reminding herself she needed to get back to work before the lunch rush. And besides – a guy this good looking, he had to be taken.

"Well, Sailor, let me know when you need a warm up. I've got to get the rest of my machines cleaned out and ready to brew before the lunch crowd arrives." The man nodded in agreement as he took a tentative sip of his coffee to test its temperature before placing the mug back into the counter and reaching into a pocket to retrieve his cell phone. Jean watched him slowly typing out what must have been a text message as she poked her head out of the alcove that served as the coffee shop's makeshift kitchen. "Might have to duck outside to get that to send," she advised. "Signal tends to be pretty weak in here."

"Thank you," he responded as he stood up, phone in hand. "Appreciate the advice." Leaving his parcel and the coffee mug on the counter while the beverage cooled, the dark haired stranger took a few steps toward the store's entrance intending to make a quick jaunt outside to send his message. He never quite made it past the racks of candy, snacks and chewing gum as he found his exit blocked by two individuals wearing heavy down jackets and ski masks pulled over their faces barreling their way through the door. It wasn't all that unusual for Jean's customers to enter the shop with their faces protected from the elements, especially on such a breezy, cold day with the sea spray being whipped up by the wind, but courtesy dictated taking off said coverings once inside. Something about their body language was off and Jean Scott's sailor-in-black-leather customer instantly sensed something wasn't right.

Because these two weren't customers at all.

Present Day

"Don't get me wrong," Jean Scott continued with her story, "this wasn't my first time around. I've had plenty of experience dealing with shoplifters and robberies over the years, but something about this time was different…"

"In what way?" Emma wondered, finding herself both curious about the crime and amused at Ms. Scott's description and portrayal of Killian.

"Most of the crooks we've dealt with around here have been kids. They burst in, demand money and take off or they sneak in, shove things into their pockets while trying to keep me distracted. Either way, these guys – they weren't in a hurry. They came in, locked the door and demanded our cell phones – all before asking for any money from the register or my safe. It was odd and I think your husband picked up on something strange right away…"

"You're right," Emma agreed, "what you're describing doesn't sound like a run of the mill robbery."

Deputy McCallen had been busy scribbling away in his notepad, absorbing and recording all of the highlights as Ms. Scott relayed them and despite his limited investigative experience, he was also decidedly skeptical about the criminals' intent. Even without knowing that Jean Scott's security camera was a product of the late 1980s, their unusual actions didn't make a lot of sense. Why would they be taking their time? Delaying and hesitating would increase the probability of getting caught – exactly the opposite outcome that most criminals would be looking for. So why did they lock the door and take their time?

"Did they keep your phones so you couldn't reach out for help?" McCallen asked.

"Sort of," Jean replied, motioning toward her aquarium. "They dumped both of our phones in there. I pulled them out before the Portland cops got here, but they were both ruined. They'll probably end up making my fish sick too." It was becoming clear that this shopkeeper was more than a little bit pissed off at the whole situation and it certainly didn't seem like it was just about the money. She was taking this personally.

"I wonder if Killian tried to send me a message to let me know where he was," Emma found herself wondering. "If he'd been able to get that message through, things might have gone a little differently and you might not have been investigating a John Doe for two days. At least now I have the explanation as to why his phone kept registering as Out of Range or Out of Service Area when I tried to ping it."

"I've gotta agree – you getting that message would have helped us both out – both my case and your nerves," McCallen stated with an awkward half smile, immediately regretting his choice of words as he didn't want to get too personal again. "Anyway, Ms. Scott, what did they do after they threw your phones into the fish tank?"

"One of them was waving a gun around, barking orders at the other," Jean recalled. "The second guy went after the register and then the bossy one came toward me demanding the money in the safe. He got a little pushy with me so the guy in leather – your husband – came to my defense. He stepped between that bully and me – told the jerk to keep his hands off me and got himself a hell of a shiner in the process."

"That explains where his black eye came from," Emma sighed, "but we're still missing a huge gap of time between this shop and when he was rescued from the island…"

"Me. Scott," McCallen interrupted, remembering a detail from the security video he'd watched that needed clarification. "On your security camera footage that Portland PD shared with me, you can see one of the robbers removing something from Mr. Jones' jacket pocket. Do you recall what that item was?"

"Oh, that – it was a gold coin," Jean stated, then continued with an explanation of what had led up to the image the deputy was referencing. "We had just heard the ferry horn sound indicating it was arriving at the dock so I warned the crooks that there would soon be more customers arriving who would be really curious about why my door is locked in the middle of the day. They tried to drag me with them but your husband wouldn't let them. He told them about the gold coin in his pocket and even offered them more if they let me go. He told them he had more coins out on his boat and I guess they believed him because they changed their minds and took him with them when they left instead. Figured his coins might be worth more than the hundred bucks or so that I had here in the store I suppose."

"So Mr. Jones might have been leading them out to his own boat when they took him hostage?" McCallen speculated aloud. Emma cringed every time they referred to the Jolly Roger as a "boat" hearing Killian's voice echoing in her ear reminding her that she was a ship, not a boat. "You said he'd been waiting for a ferry?" the deputy's question continued.

"Yeah – heading out to Peaks," Jean stated.

"So it's likely that he left his boat docked out there somewhere?" McCallen theorized.

"He mentioned something about a broken bowline and came in carrying a bag of rope from Mac's down the block. I think it's still around here somewhere…," Jean tried to visually scan the haphazard mess that was her shop right now, surveying the damage done by both the robbers and the police during their investigation. It was pure chaos right now, but she spotted the brown paper bag lying on the floor under the counter. "Oh - over there. That's it on the floor behind the barstools." She pointed to the bag with its top rolled down into a carrying handle.

"A snapped bowline could have taken his mainsail out of commission making it difficult for him to get back home," Emma lamented as McCallen retrieved the bag of rope from the floor. "Well, now we know what brought him to Portland at least. One more piece of the puzzle."

"If he did leave his boat docked out near Peaks somewhere, they likely would have had to pass by Little Diamond on the way out across the bay," the deputy suggested. "They had to have had their own boat because they would have drawn a lot of attention holding a man at gunpoint on the ferry…"

"And they definitely had a gun shoved into his back when they stormed outta here," Jean reminded them of the scene that McCallen had watched at the end of the video. "What happened after they left here? What exactly did they do to him if you don't mind me asking?"

"We still don't know all of the details, but at some point after they left your store, someone stabbed Mr. Jones in the back and likely tossed him into the bay to drown," McCallen replied matter-of-factly. "We've no idea how he got to the beach, but we're pretty certain he wouldn't have survived much longer if a couple of fishermen hadn't come along and spotted him."

"Damn…," the store owner responded with a deep sigh. "Good looking stranger probably saved my life…" she repeated her earlier statement then turned toward Emma with a sincere, empathetic expression. "Please thank your husband for me. I owe him a hell of a lot more than another cup of coffee."

"I'll be happy to deliver that message as soon as he wakes up," Emma replied with a somewhat tepid, half-hearted smile. She didn't want to appear rude, but the reality of the situation had just come flooding back with McCallen's straightforward description of what might have happened to Killian. He was still lying unconscious in a hospital bed – still dependent on machines to breathe for him, but he had voluntarily put himself into a dangerous position to aid a woman he'd just met – and Emma couldn't have been prouder. Yet at the same time, that chivalrous act had left him stranded unknown and alone in that same hospital bed for two full days and she just couldn't shake the overwhelming sadness and trace of rage that she was experiencing. She struggled to maintain her professionalism, hoping Ms. Scott and Deputy McCallen weren't witnessing traces of her internal battle with her emotions. There would be a time for those to surface – when they found the men who'd wounded her husband. "We definitely appreciate all of your help, Me. Scott. Thank you for taking time to talk to us."

"My pleasure," Jean replied. "And I'm sorry about my attitude before. It's been a rough couple of days – obviously not as rough as what your husband's been through, but I'm still trying to put everything back together and get back to work. Anyway, Sheriff, I don't know where you found that man, but you've got one hell of a catch there. Hang on to that one!"

"I plan to," Emma smiled, this time genuinely as she and McCallen each shook hands with the shopkeeper, saying their thanks before making their egress to the parking lot. They'd been here just under an hour – a tad longer than she'd expected and her heart was anxious to get back to Killian's side. They were now armed with some new information though and while a huge chunk of the puzzle remained missing, pieces were falling into place. Killian had baited his captors with a doubloon and undoubtedly did have more of them stashed out on the Jolly Roger, but was he really intending to lead them out to his ship? Had he offered himself as a hostage strictly to protect the woman? Was he simply leading them away from the store before making an escape attempt? Maybe he'd foolishly thought he could take on both of his abductors – certainly not out of character for him to challenge a foe who clearly held the upper hand, or in this case, two of them. She had to believe that he'd let himself be taken as their captive in an attempt to reach a position where he would have a tactical advantage, but his current predicament meant he probably never reached that point. Somewhere along the way, whatever plan his brain had conjured had gone awry – but where? Why? How?

Those questions remained unanswered and only Killian himself would likely be able to answer them.

Author’s note: As I work for a cruise line, I'm familiar with a lot of nautical terms but since our company's fleet of ships don't have sails, I had to do a little research into something that would hinder a ship but be a repair that Killian could complete by himself. I decided on the bowline since it would be used to help keep the sail taut in the wind.

#cs ff #cs fanfic #cs fan fiction #captain swan ff #the right place

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