#i was willing to forgive them after they disappeared at the airport

[rabbid-rabbitt]

i think what my ex did to me is beyomd fucking me over

were both survivors of similar things, except im free and they were still stuck with their family. we knew each other for around 6 months and started dating because one of my parts fell in love with theirs, we fell quickly and many of our alters ended up dating each other passionately but most importantly my system head genuinely trusted them, she wanted to see them free and to spend our kives together. we created a planfor them to leave their abusive family and fly over to us where we would get married so they could legally settle here. my whole family knew about this and were willing to welcome them into our home, my stepdad, mum and i were going to get uo at 4am and drive 2 hours to the airport to pick them up. ny parents who have no obligation to this internet stranger who they have never met, were willing to pick them uo and welcome them into our familt because they saw how much i loved them and MY MUM EVEN SAID WE COULD END UP MOVING OUT SOON!! me moving out was something that was never mentioned before because i cant live alone and she doesnt trust others to take for me. but anyway me and my other partner (who they knew about and were friendly with) and his partner (also now my partner) spent a lot of time and emergy creating an escape plan with all of our knowledge of these groups and general safety information. my system spent hours and stayed up past exhaustion comforting our ex and giving them our whole heart in hopes they will escape and we would be able to live our lives together, we had plans to financially support them until they could legally get a job which would've been rlly hard on our situation but we were willing to do anything to get our FIANCE! YES WE WERE ENGAGED!!!! to safetyn happiness, we found them a therapist which they would aee when they came here so they could start deprogramming properly.

but on the day they were to escape, some things went wrong but we actually managed to them sorted and the airport staff themselves helped them get a direct flight here rather than a layover when they missed their first flight, we had plans to fix everything that went wrong and me and my other partner were by their side the whole time, i was shaking and on the verge of an anxiety attack irl while they were at the airport but after they got their new ticket they stopped responding. they were gone. obviously i thought i would never see them again because yk these groups work that way, fucking hell being shot point blank at an airport would be so much less embarrassing than what they actually did. i was so unwell that night my partner had ti comfort me and stayed up until i went to sleep because he was afraid id kill myself.

while i was asleep my ex talked to my other partner and a mutual friend where they apologised FOR DISAPPOINTING THEM! but when we finally got talking they had to be TOLD to apologise to me for them to actually do it then not even 24 hours after they hurt me so badly (which they coupdnt even explain btw) they asked if i would still marry them and then called my system head being angry at them a punishment over something beyond their control. they called their father to pick them up. they didnt share the fact they had a previous escape attempt that didnt work. they didnt follow the plan we worked tirelessly on and perfected. And had the audacity to be angry at our system head for being rightfully betrayed. they kept guilt tripping and acting like they were the victim until they just straight up ignored us for days, knowing that was an extreme trigger. which lead to a suicide attempt that we had an ambulance come for because my mum was too terrified to drive us to the hospital. now i did lash out at them, but they also said repeatedly to tell them how i feel and called rightful anger a punishment, im not proud of lashing out n i did apologise for it which more than they ever did for fucking us over so badly. in fact several ppl told me that i wasnt mean enough, that i handled it so well for how badly they fucked me over. during pur final talk where i demanded closure, it took them being ASKED by a mutual friend (in the chat to keep things civil) to give a half assed apology. like how are you that bad of a person you cant even apologise for fucking over your fiance who you dreamed of spendimg your life with..

anyway im out of the severe depressie episode they caused me because i had my meds upped but our system head has not recovered and in fact has changed anlot since we last properly saw her shes locked herself away and doesnt trust anyone anymore

[raineydays411]

My Father's daughter pt1

Summary: After the disastrous gala, you get an unexpected visit from your “mother”and her family. 

A/n: Hello so I feel like the mom character should have a name, so from here on out, your mother's name is Christine. Also i hope y’all like this one cause i feel like it’s going kinda slow.

Growing up was rough. 

Because your mother decided that you and Tony weren’t worth the effort, you had to mature pretty quickly. You’re father had fallen into this deep depression, where he can barely take care of himself. You had to make sure that your father woke up on time for meetings, made sure he ate, drank water, and inevitably had to make sure that he didn’t choke on his own vomit when he got shitfaced. 

Needless to say, you were very mature for nine years old.

But then, a light in the form of Virginia Potts came into your lives. She saw the way you had taken on the role of Tonys caregiver, and was heartbroken. At first she thought it was just pure negligence from Tonys end, but as she spent more time with the both of you, she realized that Tony loved you more than anything in this world. So she stuck around. 

At first you were weary of her. Not really trusting towards older woman, or motherly figures as you were scorned once. But she never gave up. Not on you or your father. No, she stayed even when you would run away on under her watch. She stayed even when you would try and steal your fathers cars for a quick joy ride through Manhattan. And she stayed when you broke down after your mother had people come pick up all her belongings from the Tower, not bothering to come herself and say goodbye. 

She didn’t leave. She held you as you screamed and sobbed as the men packed away everything she owned. She held you even when you squirmed and scratched at her arms to get away. And she held you as you gave up and silently cried then eventually fell asleep, tightly clutching her midsection. 

That's when you started to come around. You stopped running away whenever your father would leave you with her, wouldn’t talk back when she asked you to pick up a mess, and you even helped her out when some creep intern decided to put the moves on her during a company meeting. 

It wasn’t until your father went missing when you truly saw her as someone you could trust. It was the worst three months of your life.  Another parent gone suddenly from your life. You were relocated to mansion in Malibu, a big empty place where the halls echoed as you walked through them. ANd you had thought that Pepper was going to stay back in New York, she wasn’t your assistant after all. You were shocked to see her at the airport, suitcase in tow with a determined look.

Seeing the look of surprise on your face she stated,

“ I’m not going to let you do this alone.” ,then grabbed your hand to lead you through terminal.

You were grateful that she only acknowledged your tears when you were in the privacy of the private jet. She rubbed your back as you let the tears run down your face. The whole three months that you were in her care, your perspective changed.

She asked about your day, made sure you ate, tucked you in and held you whenever you had nightmares. With in that three month period, Pepper showed you what it was like to have a mother again. And she never let you down. 

Then your dad came home, and your family was complete. You were ecstatic when they started dating and even more so when your father announced that they were going to get engaged.

And even though it took years, you finally trusted Pepper enough to see her as your mother. You were happy. 

Which is why you were extra pissed when you came home from your mother-daughter day and saw your biological mother with Bruce Wayne in the common room. They were sitting on the couch and were getting glared at by the Avengers that were home from missions,(Natasha, Steve, and Sam). 

“Dad, what’s going on?” You ask, looking past the hopeful and curious gazes from the couch. 

“Kid, I think you better sit down.” Tony said through slightly clenched teeth. His face was grim, as he looked past you and made eye contact with Pepper. They had a silent conversation with their eyes, and she nodded. She squeezed your shoulders and took your bags, then with a quick glare she had the rest of the room cleared except for the four of you. 

You took a seat across from your mother, Christine and Bruce. She sent a smile your way and was met with a blank look, “ Dad, what’s going on?”

He sighs and makes his way over to were you were seated, “I don’t know, Christine, maybe you should explain.” 

His tone indicated that he knew why she was here, but wanted her to sound stupid. Pepper came over and sat on the t other side of you. 

Christine glanced at the Pepper and cleared her throat, “Perhaps should be kept between family?”

You scoffed, “ Considering that Pep has been around longer than you ever have been, you have no right to decide who’s family to me and whos not.” 

You see Pepper sit up straighter with pride and mother slump. 

You sigh, “ What are you doing here?” 

She looks at Bruce, who you honestly forgot was still there, “ Y/n...I want you to come home with us.” 

A silence filled the room. You felt Pepper tense up at the words and saw your dads and clench into a fist. 

You however just stared in utter disbelief. 

“What.” 

“I know it's far fetched.” Your mother starts, ignoring your scoff, “ But i really do think it would benefit you to come to Gotham with us, and get to know your siblings!” 

You were seething. 

“My siblings? You mean the family that you left us for.”

“Y/n that’s not-”

“No, You think that you can just waltz into my home, after nine years of absolutely no contact, no birthday cards, not even a text to let me know that you were alive, and expect me to what? Just welcome you into open arms? Leave MY family and go live with you?? Really?”  You say with a scoff.

“Y/n there is a ot of factors you are not considering” Bruce chimes in for the first time.

You turn your glare onto him, “ And what you’re just okay with the fact that your wife has a whole other child who she just fucking abandoned?

“Language.” Your father mutters causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Well, I can’t say this didn’t come as a shock.” Bruce states, “ But, I also know that I love my wife, and that I would welcome you to our home.”

Your throat was hurting with the amount if times you’ve scoffed, “ And I appreciate that, really, but I would never leave my family. Especially not for her.”

Christine's eyes start to tear up, “ Y/n please, a girl needs her mother.”

Those words triggered the anger inside you. Your blood boiled and you can tell that she knew she messed up. 

“Oh? Is that right? What about when I was six and I waited for you to come and take me to that mother's day dance, only you never showed up and I went with my nanny. Or when I was eight and you promised that you would take me to get my ears pierced but then you got a phone call and left so dad took me?” 

You saw the tears run down her face as Bruce looked like he was thinking about something.

“Oh and what about when I was nine. I was nine and you promised to take me to the park. You remember that? Cause I do.” 

Tony tenses next to you, knowing what you were about to say.

“Y/n I can never apologize enough but-” You cut her off

“I was NINE and your promised to take me to the park” You continue, “ But you left. And this time you didn’t come back.” You finish and lean forward, “ Tell me, why the HELL would you think that I would want to come live with you and your fucking family?”

The room was once again engulfed in a tense silence. The only sounds were the sniffling of your mother. 

“You’re my baby girl...my petal. I love you and always have...” She starts, “ My biggest regret is leaving you that day and you have to know that Y/n.”

You feel tears start to rise, a knot in your throat. 

Peppers hand squeezes yours and you calm down and say

“Then you’re gonna have to learn to live with it.” 

Then you stand up and walk right out of the room. Leaving the adults and marching straight to the training rooms to let out some steam. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in the common room, a tense silence weighed on the adults. It seemed like no one knew exactly what to say, or they didn’t want to speak up.

Only when Tony cleared his throat did Christine speak up again.

“I didn’t come to cause any trouble.” she said quietly.

“What did you think would happen?”Tony says crossing his arms, “Surely you didn’t expect her to leave with you?”

“No Tony I didn’t. I just thought she would’ve considered it. I am still her mother.”

Pepper snorted, causing the attention to turn to her.

Christine's eyes narrowed, “ And who exactly are you to my daughter?”

Tony tensed, knowing not to mess with Pepper especially when it came to you. He sat back and waited for mamma bear to come out.

Pepper sent a glare her way, “ Me? I’m just the woman who has been raising her for the past nine years.”

Before Christine can get another word on Pepper continued on,

“ I don’t know who you think you are, but you have put Y/n and Tony through a lot of turmoil throughout the years. And now you think you can come in here and demand forgiveness from them?? That’s not happening.”

Bruce started to speak up, “I understand the pain you're family must have gone through, and I am sorry about my...unknowing participation, but Christine is willing to work on her relationship with her daughter.”

Now Tony started speaking, “why? Why now? Y/n is practically an adult, she doesn’t need you anymore. Not like she did before.”

“I’m her mother.” Christine said stubbornly, “ She’ll always need her mother.”

“And she has one. Just not you.” Pepper said standing from her spot, “ I think it’s time for you two to leave. I have to go comfort MY daughter.”

And with that Pepper made her way to the door where you disappeared, knowing exactly where you are. But before she left, she turned and said

“It was lovely to meet you Mrs. Wayne”

and left, leaving Tony to show them to the elevator.

[catzy88]

As a 90s kid, I kept coming back to a fic idea based on the 90s/00s teen movies where the popular guy starts dating the unpopular girl because of a bet. Naturally, the girl finds out about it at some point. Cue drama and angst, but the guy is remorseful and apologizes to the girl with a big gesture, like running after her to an airport just as she's about to take off. She, of course, forgives him and they kiss and live happily ever after.

Now, imagine this, but with McEichel and a lot more dark and angsty.

Psst. Here's a playlist of the songs I was listening to while writing this:

The Smashing Pumpkins - Never Let Me Down Again

The Smashing Pumpkins - Bullet With Butterfly Wings

Red Hot Chili Peppers - Parallel Universe

My Life With The Thrill Kill Cult - A Daisy Chain 4 Satan (Acid & Flowers Mix)

Oasis - Talk Tonight

Jack seduces Connor at the Combine and steals his first everything. (First everything except going first at the Draft.) Jack just wanted to see if he could do it, and because he was jealous of Connor getting drafted as the overall #1 draft pick. But for Connor it was real. He fell in love with Jack, hard. And when Jack suddenly, and cruelly, saying it was just a game, dumps Connor, he goes into a downward spiral.

Connor starts partying a lot, so much so that it starts affecting his hockey, too. The hockey world is shocked: The Next Next One, the Savior of Hockey isn't saving anyone, the least himself. Sex, drugs, and hockey, baby! Before Jack, Connor was a good Canadian boy, but after... After, he becomes a shameless slut, snorting coke at nightclubs, getting into bed (or any surface, really) with anyone willing. By the time the World Cup of Hockey rolls around, approximately one third of the NHL has f*cked Connor McDavid more than on the ice.

But Connor is still madly talented, so he's selected to team North America. And sure, Jack has been vaguely and uncomfortably aware of what has been going on with Connor. (The NHLers are a bunch of gossips.) But he hadn't imagined it would be this bad. He observes from the sidelines Connor's erratic behavior, but things don't come to a head until one night, when the Young Guns are celebrating a win at a club.

Connor had disappeared early on, but at some point in the evening Jack sees him near the bathrooms with some guy who is aggressively pushing Connor against the wall. The guy seems to be saying something into Connor's ear, and with a smirk he takes both of Connor's hands into his and pulls Connor into the men's bathroom with him.

At this point, Jack sees red. He's not even really sure why, because he doesn't care about Connor, but this is his team mate. If nothing else, he needs to make sure Connor doesn't do anything that compromises the team and their chance to win. So, he goes after Connor and the guy to the bathroom. What he sees there, makes him absolutely livid.

The guy has Connor bent over a sink, with Connor's pants halfway down, and the guy in process of getting his own pants undone. The thought that couldn't they have gotten at least to a stall where everyone wouldn't be able to see them, hysterically makes it's way to Jack's head. His feet move him without him even noticing, but in the next moment the guy is on the floor, holding his face where Jack had punched him.

Aside from getting the guy away from Connor, Jack decides to ignore him and turns to look at Connor. Connor who is staring at Jack with eyes blown wide and mouth open. His pupils are dilated and he's sweating, but he's still the most beautiful thing Jack has ever seen. And suddenly he doesn't remember why he ever left Connor behind.

And sometime after that, after they've gotten back to the hotel and Connor has sobered up, they have that much needed talk they should've had ages ago. It doesn't magically make everything okay, because Connor will still have to battle with addiction and Jack will have to earn Connor's trust, but it's a road they're willing to take. Together.

[miss-choco-chips]

YJ College au: Zatara

Zachary Zatara is both a myth and their housemate.

In which Bart has a cryptic-buddy, Tim is stressed because cute boy insists on being annoying, and everyone else just rolls with it.

Tagging @animemangasoul and @marudny-robot cause I know you guys like this au

--.--.--.--

As usual after pulling an all-week-er (he had left the ‘nighters well behind at this point), Tim was up late that saturday. The window had been left open last night, so a soft streak of sunlight wamed his bed, waking him up slowly and peacefully. Yeah, he would have liked a few more hours, but sunbathing in his sheets for a while wasn’t all that bad either. What would make this half-awake-half-dreaming experience would be some chill music.

Muddled mind made, he rolled in his bed, hand patting the mattress for his phone, squinting his eyes open when he hit something different instead.

He found himself to be almost nose to nose with a dark haired, grey eyed boy.

Tim started that fine morning screaming himself hoarse.

-.-.-.-.-

Sitting at the kitchen’s table, getting everything ready for a late sunday breakfast, Kon raised his head when he heard the strong sound of a scream, followed by… yeah, that was a body hitting the ground. It was unmistakable, in this house. 

“Oh, hey guys”, he called to the attention of the rest of his housemates, all in equals states of zombie-ness, with not as good hearing as his. “Zachary is here.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“The fuck, Zach? My bed? Did you HAVE to crash on my bed? Why are you even here?”

Tim, four coffee cups after his pseudo heart attack half an hour ago, was ready to face the day and their intruder.

“Dude I live here as well, you know. Also your bed is literally the softest thing I ever slept on, you rich bastard. Learn to share.”

“I’ll buy you your own fucking mattress if you swear to never crawl on my bed uninvited again.”

The boy’s eyebrows rose, suggestively. “What was that about an invitation?”

Distressed and not feeling awake enough (he was still two cups away from that) to deal with bi thoughts this early in the morning, he turned his most helpless look to Conner.

Because he was the best friend ever, he threw a pillow to Zachary. And because he was a suck up to anyone who brought him food, Bart intercepted the hit and gratefully accepted the candy bag he got in thanks.

“But actually, Zat, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Berlin?” interjected Cassie, her own tea (the heathen) cup warming her hands as she cuddled with Cissie and Greta on the couch, legs in each other’s laps and generally being the cutest shit ever.

Anita, not very keen on that kind of sweet love, had been wrestling with Slobo for control over the remote for the last fifteen minutes. Miguel was keeping count on their hits for them, though it was mostly assured he would rig the whole thing up to whoever had bribed him better before the fight.

Tim just wanted to go back to sleep in his sun-warmed bed.

“C’mon guys, keep up”, moaned Bart, candy bag half empty already, “he was there two weeks ago. He had an exam yesterday so he came back last monday.”

“...come again?”

“I’ve been room-hopping ever since, though none of you seemed to mind. Until I disturbed sleeping beauty over here, at least.”

Miguel’s eyes left the fight to squint suspiciously at them. “We weren’t aware you were doing that. Where did you sleep? How didn’t we notice?”

“I'ma mystery. I also move around a lot when sleeping so I probably ended up under someone’s bed after crashing from studying. Oh, Anita, if you were wondering, your purple bra is under Cissie’s bed.”

Anita slowly let go of the grip she had on Slobo’s neck. Her eyes shone something dangerous. Cissie, the one who was apparently hosting the boy all along, also stood up and frowned.

“How do you even know that bra is mine!!”

“What the fuck were you doing under my bed, you bastard!”

Tim sipped his coffee, bitterly. “At least he was under it, and not sharing it.”

Kon patted his back.

-.-.-.-.-..- 

“I swear, Jay, he thrives on making me lose my shit. He just… comes and goes whenever, leaving no proof he was ever there, or acting like he was always around. Drives me nuts. I’m not sure he even attends classes, and I only know he actually has a right to enter our house because his rent money always appears on the kitchen table a day before its due. He doesn’t even have a room, why does he even pay? To have an excuse to scare the shit out of the rest of us. Except Bart. The little shit lives for our suffering.”

Jason arches an eyebrow, sipping his beer as he carefully examines his brother. Tim looked less tired than the last time they saw each other, and the modifications done by his psychiatrist had done wonders to the shadows in his eyes. But he seemed somehow… frazzled.

“And he was just there when you woke up?”

“His nose was touching mine.”

“I bet your little bi heart couldn't take that, huh? Is he cute? Maybe you invited him to share your bed the night before and just don’t remember. You know how you get after a week of disregarding your general wellbeing.”

“Oh, shush you. I take care of myself. When was the last time you went to your check in with Patricia?”

Jason scratched the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “I missed one session, because I have exams too you know? But I’m up to date with Silvio, and we are working on slowly easing me off the medication.” He noticed the way Tim looked at his drink, expression screaming bullshit, and he scowled in response. “Fuck off, it’s alcohol-free. Kori and Artemis would have my head if they caught me mixing my dosage with anything stronger than tea, and I can’t deal with Biz and Roy’s disappointed eyes.” 

Tim thought of the last time he refused to see his therapist, and the look in everyone’s  (specially Kon’s) eyes, and had to agree. Having friends sucked when one wanted to wallow in self destructive conducts.

“Whatever, all I’m saying is, he’s not cute enough for me to forgive his weirdness. You know the people I roll with, so this is saying a lot. And I would remember inviting him to my bed, if anything for the mortification of it. I’m also…”

The ring of the doorbell distracted them both of whatever Tim was gonna say next. Waving his brother off, Jason got up to pay for their pizza.

When he returned to his living room, Tim was no longer alone.

“Who the fuck are you?” He exclaimed, eyes going back to the hallway at his back, then again at the black haired, grey eyed kid sitting next to Tim. “And how did you get in? We are on the sixth floor and I was just at the only door I have.”

Tim raised his eyes at him, and he seemed equal parts resigned and frazzled. ‘Told ya’, he seemed to say.

“Yo, the food’s finally here. I’m starving. The name’s Zachary Zatarra, by the way. Tim’s friend and housemate.”

“Allegedly” mumbled the other under his breath, earning himself a smile and pat on the back. “Don’t question it, Jay. He’ll be gone after a while when none of us are paying attention. Just let it be.”

“But while I’m here”, the other boy continued, grinning devilishly as he looked at Tim and then Jason, “instead of questioning how did I get in, what about I tell you all about your lil bro’s crush? It 's adorable.”

Tim raised an eyebrow “I don’t have a crush on anyone.”

“Like I said, adorable. He’s so oblivious, it’s precious.”

Decision made, Jason left the pizzas at the coffee table and went to fetch a soda for their guest. Gossip, especially about his siblings, was the best way to gain his immediate cooperation. And he could always force the answers about Zatara out of Bart; the brat was terrified of him.

-.-.-.-.-.-

“Hey, who has to cook tonight? Because I’m craving chicken nuggets.”

Cassie raised her eyes from her magazine, tapping a finger against her chin.

“Uhm… Zach, I think?”

Miguel nodded. “Okay, thanks, where can I find him to suggest my dinner idea?”

Cissie, legs on Cassie’s lap, dropped her head over the couch’s armrest. “Ask Tim? Wasn’t he crashing with him this week?”

That same moment, said boy entered the room, shaking his head. “No, he was sharing with Anita and Cassie.”

“No, he wasn’t… Slobo?”

“Not with us either”, denied Miguel, sharing a look with his roommate to confirm just in case.

“Conner?”

“Didn’t Bart say yesterday he was driving him to the airport?”

“Wait, he left the country again?”

“More importantly, can Bart drive?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When Tim came back home from class, Damian was in his living room. Using a laptop. Sitting side by side with Zatarra.

This couldn't be good.

“Hey, Timbo, welcome back.”

“Drake.”

Not uttering a single word, Tim turned around and walked out of there. Sleeping on a park bench seemed like a preferable choice, compared to finding out exactly why the two banes of his life were sitting together. It was healthier, good for his peace of mind.

Something something self care? His therapist would be so proud.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Hey dude.”

“Zatara. Your presence here disrupts my room’s feng shui. Please remove yourself from the premises.”

“This disaster zone is the farthest thing from armonious. If anything, I’m improving it.”

Tim raised his eyes from the computer screen. He could always kick the other man out, but that would require leaving the nest he made out of blankets and snacks on his bed. Perhaps a more civilized option would be better. Besides, as boundary-less as the dude was, he didn’t step into the room, just remaining on the doorstep, so whatever he was here for, he most likely needed Tim’s willful compliance.

“If I listen to what you have to say, will you leave?”

Zatara smiled angelically, like butter wouldn’t melt on his mouth, but the look behind his eyes was nothing short of devious. “That’s actually what I came to speak with you about. I have a show…”

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“A magic show. Dude, you do know I’m a magician, right?”

Tim didn’t, in fact, know that, besides baseless suppositions about his disappearing-and-appearing abilities. But he had an all knowing facade to maintain, so he grunted in acknowledgement.

“Right, so, I have a show scheduled for tomorrow, but I took Bart out to dinner yesterday so I’m all dried up, and I need to buy a plane ticket asap.”

“Are you asking me for a loan?” he inquired, incredulous. As a general rule, all their housemates refrained from that. Something about not wanting to take advantage of their billionaire friend…

“No, no. I’m offering you a…. service.”

“Look, Zach, no offense? But you ain’t cute enough for me to stoop that low and pay for the… pleasure of your company. I can just give you the money and you pay me back whenever, dude.”

“No! I didn’t mean it like that! You wish I was offering something  of the sort” he laughed, arms crossed and side leaning against the doorframe, chest and arm muscles perfectly visible. Tim kept his eyes carefully above neck-level. No need to give any weakness away.

“Then?”

“I know you love me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t make you miserable, right?”

“That is correct, yes.”

“Are you familiar with the ‘Buy my silence, $8.000 a month’ meme? Then get ready for a ‘pay for my absence’, my good bitch. I thought maybe you’d like...”

“Sold. I buy it. Take my credit card and go, be free, roam the world. Just get out of my room and fucking text once in a while so I know you’re alive.”

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

‘This Love Came Back to Me’ Chapter 9: Half Agony, Half Hope

Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee?

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.

               They were stuck in limbo. Molly had no idea where they stood. She was leaving all of it up to Sherlock. If they only stayed friends, she’d be okay with that, but there would always be a pang in her chest to remind her something was missing. If he didn’t want to see her again…she felt it could very well kill her inside. Those two options seemed more likely than what she truly desired. She had been clear with him about what she wanted, but he hadn’t said a word. He would be leaving for the airport soon with John and Mary, and nothing else had been spoken on the subject.

               Molly so desperately wanted to fly back to London with them. She loved Galway, but it wasn’t home. In fact, she realised she hadn’t been home in a long time. Home was Sherlock; his heart, his arms, his lips. Her heart practically screamed at her not to let him go. She didn’t want him to leave, but she would gladly go back if he asked. Soon, Sherlock and the Watsons would be swinging by her flat. They had gone and checked out of their hotel, and Molly had offered for them to pass the rest of the time at her place.

               When they did arrive, they kept their luggage by the door, and gathered in the sitting room with her. Molly dragged out Cluedo and the four of them played a quick round. She had bested Sherlock at the game much to John and Mary’s amusement. It wasn’t much longer before it was time for them to take their leave. Sherlock waited until it was just him and Molly left. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace and he did the same, in no real hurry to leave her.

               “Molly…” he sighed, stroking her hair. Why was it so hard for him to say how he felt? It was as if his words were wrapped in barbed wire, unable to escape.  

               She sniffled, knowing they would never be the way they once were. Molly willed herself not to cry as he pulled back to kiss her cheek. She closed her eyes, savoring it, wanting nothing more than to turn her head just enough for their lips to touch. His arms dropped, letting her go, leaving her chilled. “Take care of yourself, Sherlock.”

               He offered a reassuring smile. “I’ll try. You do the same.” Picking up his bag and stepping out the door, he turned his head back to get another glimpse of her face. He had hoped more would be said between them, but he couldn’t get the words to slip out. The only thing that kept him going down the stairs was the fact it wouldn’t be long before he knew for a fact where they stood, having left her a letter she had yet to find. Sherlock knew she loved him, but he also knew that love wasn’t always enough. He knew he’d get his answer before touching down in London.

.

.

               Her flat felt so empty now without her friends—without Sherlock. She decided to pop in a movie in order to get her mind off things. Only twenty minutes in, and she could hardly pay attention. Cluedo was still sitting on the coffee table, so Molly put the lid on it, picking it up to put away, but beneath the box was an envelope with her name on the outside of it written in Sherlock’s hand. She set the game aside on the ground and quite literally took her future in her hands, seating herself back on the sofa to read it. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and retrieved the written words hiding away inside.

Darling Molly,

               I’m afraid words are not my forte…at least not when spoken aloud. I write this to you with love in my heart, of which I have decided to leave with you. If you want it, it is yours—my heart, my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Two years ago, you broke my heart, but I cannot help to think that I am partially to blame. Perhaps if I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my work, I would have noticed your worries. I should have tried to contact you, should’ve tried to go see you. I fear I haven’t tried enough, and for that, I am sorry.

               I do not wish to leave Galway without you, but perhaps, it will give you time to think of what you truly want. I know what you said the night before on the beach, but perhaps it is not best to jump right into things like we did the first time. My heart has always been yours. It beats for you, alone. In our time apart, I have loved none but you. I have never given myself to anyone but you.  I know I was callous and cruel; resentful, even. But know it was not due to hatefulness; instead, it was because I hated having to admit to myself that I still loved you despite your actions.

               I welcome these feelings again most fervently. I remain devoted to you, to us. I still burn for you, blazing in the dark. I want to write concertos on your skin with my lips. I ache for you. I miss you. I forgive you. I love you so much. Tell me that it is not too late for us. Come back home to Baker Street, to me. Is ceol mo chroí thú (you are the music of my heart.)

Affectionately yours,

               Sherlock

               Her hand covered her mouth, her breathing ragged as tears slipped down her cheeks. Quickly, she wiped them away and tucked the letter back inside the envelope. She needed to get to the airport as soon as possible. Their flight was due to leave very soon. Though a light rain was falling, she didn’t bother grabbing a coat. Molly slipped on her flats, grabbed her keys, and ran for the door. She threw it open, flew down the stairs and out onto the street. The rain had picked up and goosebumps arose on her skin. She slid on the slick pavement. A pair of familiar arms caught her just as they did in London and set her upright. Her breath caught in her throat.

               Eyes only for her, blue as the sea after a storm, Sherlock Holmes stood before her, soaked to the bone. Relief, desperation, and love were all reflected in his expression. “I couldn’t bear to leave you—not without saying anything. I love you, Molly. I love you so damn much.”        

               Raindrops mixed with her tears, and she smiled, a light laugh escaping her. “Oh, Sherlock, I love you too!” And with a tilt of his head, Sherlock’s lips pressed firmly to hers, one hand at the small of her back whilst the other slid up into her wet hair, cradling the back of her head. She moaned as his tongue slipped in to meet hers, her hands at his back, pressing his body tightly against her. It was all so dizzying. Just moments ago, Molly feared she had lost him forever, and here he was holding her, kissing her, loving her. Sherlock slowed their kisses, exploring her inviting mouth and soft lips tenderly as if getting to know her all over again. He nuzzled his nose against hers with such warm affection. Molly pressed another long, lingering kiss to his lips, pouring her entire heart and soul into it, and it left him breathless.

               Sherlock felt her shiver in his arms and he slid his coat off his shoulders to wrap it around hers. Their foreheads touching for a moment, he smiled, grabbed his bag, and led her back inside. He was happy to know he had made the right decision to get off the plane, but perhaps, not as much as when he realised she had been on her way to find him. For the first time in a long time, everything felt like it would be okay.

.

.

               Her damp hair fanned out over the pillow, Molly’s face brightened when Sherlock appeared in the doorway. He had just changed into his tartan pajama pants, and much to her delight, he hadn’t bothered putting on a shirt. As soon as he slipped into bed beside her, she crawled over to him and kissed him, playfully tugging on his bottom lip. His tongue darted out to lick her lips, teasing her without mercy. “Mmm,” he hummed, kissing her fully, her honeysuckle scent enveloping him—the one he had tried to replicate because he had missed it so much. He was home.

               Goosebumps arose on his skin as her fingertips trailed down his side. He wanted her so much, and his body sensed the familiar press of her against him, his desire stirring. Sherlock felt he could get so lost in her that he might disappear. She sat astride him, leaning over to trail her lips down his neck, and he closed his eyes, giving himself over to the sensation. This time when his heart ached, it wasn’t from being heartbroken, but from being so in love and being loved in return in the same capacity. His quiet moans and sighs pleased her—he could tell by the way she wriggled herself against him.

               Her hands seemed to burn him where they roamed over his skin, no longer cold from the rain. Her hair tickled him as she lowered her head to leave kisses on his chest, making sure she pressed a very tender one over the scar from his bullet wound, and another right over his heart. All he could think was, she loves me so much. Sherlock slid a hand to the small of her back, rubbing circles against her skin with his thumb. With the other, he lightly squeezed her bum and she giggled, lifting her head to meet his eyes. “Cheeky bugger…I’ve missed you.”

               “I’ve missed you too,” he said softly, reaching up to tuck a few damp strands of hair behind her ear. Molly rolled off him and snuggled up to his side, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “Have you read my letter?”

               “I did,” she replied. “It was so lovely, but Sherlock, none of this was your fault.”

               He hugged her tight, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I should have known something was wrong. Observation is what I do—how could I fail to notice such an important detail? Especially after you met with Mycroft. Surely, I should’ve been able to figure that out.”

               Sleepily, she replied, “Despite what you want others to believe, you are only human. What is it you say? ‘There’s always one thing?’”

               Sherlock chuckled. “I suppose you’re right, but I still should’ve called at the very least, even if you didn’t pick up. At least you would’ve known I still cared.”

               “You were heartbroken—calling me was probably the last thing you wanted to do and I don’t blame you for that,” she assured him. “Please don’t blame yourself. You were so good to me. You still are. Thank you for loving me all this time, even when I didn’t deserve it.” Shifting her eyes upward briefly to glance at him, Molly saw the expression on his face, telling her that he knew she was right.

               He gently brushed his fingers through her hair, her words having brought him the comfort he sought. Half-whispering, he confessed the truth of his heart aloud. “I will always love you, Molly.” She smiled sleepily at his declaration, falling asleep not long after. Sherlock carefully reached over to turn out the lamp and wrapped his arm back around her, settling himself in for the first good sleep he’d have in a long time.

[just-another-ficwriter]

Serendipity - Part Two

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Words: 2100ish

Warnings: Heartbreak, cheating, pregnancy, lying

Summary: Sweet Pea and Y/N are on different paths in life, yet something keeps bringing them back together.

Notes: Surprise! This is out earlier than expected it as I finished it earlier than I thought, I’d love to know what you guys think!

Read part one here.

It was only two years later when they found their paths crossing again.

To celebrate Sweet Pea’s 24th, Fangs had decided to throw a party and on a hopeful whim invited Y/N. He hadn’t even expected her to respond let alone turn up but he was excited all the same.

When Sweet Pea walked into the bar, more shocked to see her sitting on the same bar stool she had two years prior than the chorus of ‘surprise’ that was shouted at him. He could tell by the way the smile he loved so dearly didn’t quiet reach her eyes, that something had changed. He fought his way through the crowd, nodding politely at those who wished him a happy birthday, thanking them for turning up, sighing in relief when he finally reached her.

He’d expected some big gesture of affection, that longing hug that the two of them always seemed to share when they’d been apart too long. Only she didn’t even stand when she saw him, instead just giving him a wave and a subtle hello. The lack of physical contact had his heart aching and he found himself wondering if he’d stone something wrong. Had she really come all this way to act like their past hadn’t mattered to her? 

He could barely focus on what she was saying, eyes trained on her lips as his mind wondered else where. The tension around them grew thicker second by second, the distance between them unbearable and just as he was about to question her his eyes caught a glimpse of it.

A silver band wrapped around a finger on her left hand, a single diamond glimmering in the Wyrm’s low lights and he was sure he was going to be sick right there and then. She caught onto what he was looking at fast, a slur of words falling from her lips like she had to justify it. She’d met her fiancé a year ago, a whirled wind romance resulting in a engagement. She was happy, or so she said, and Sweet Pea had to pretend he was too.

She was only in Riverdale for the weekend, her time shared between him, her other friends, and her family. Sweet Pea didn’t know why he found himself offering to drive her to the airport that rainy Sunday, maybe he was simply craving those last few seconds with her before she disappeared again and he knew he had to move on properly. A few more seconds of pretending like it wasn’t going to hurt like hell.

The drive surprised him. She laughed at the way he sung badly alone with the songs on the radio, joining in when she knew the words. The two danced in their seats, the same way they did when they bunked off school at seventeen and Sweet Pea wished they could be that age again.

When they reached the car park a sadness surrounded them, Sweet Pea’s hand shaking with all the words left unsaid. He wondered if she could sense the way he felt, if part of her felt the same as her lips ghosted against his cheek and she left his car. He watched as her blurred figure disappeared into the rain before he finally let it all go.

Tears spilled from his eyes, his breathing shallow as harsh sobs erupted through his body. He was so distraught that he didn’t realise she’d made her way back until she was reaching for him from the passenger seat. She willed him not to speak as their eyes met and her hands grabbed fistfuls of his t-shirt, pulling him closer. Their lips met in desperation, every thought and feeling being poured into a single kiss. And as they clambered into his back seat, he found himself suddenly grateful that the heavy down pour of the weather outside was acting as a shield against his windows, blurring what was going on inside.

When it was over a darkness swept over Sweet Pea once more as he pretended he couldn’t hear her apologising before she left him confused and even more broken than before, all his hope disappearing with her into the heavy down pour.

-

At twenty seven Sweet Pea felt like he might never see her again. Part of him was glad. Glad to have some sort of closure, glad that he was attempting to escape the never ending circle of loving her that only ever ended in misery and despair. Yet part of him clung onto a happy ending with her for dear life, not ready to move on and let go.

So many things had changed since he’d last seen her. Fangs had gotten engaged, moved in with Kevin Keller into a nice house on the Northside and after he worked his way to a big promotion at the garage, Sweet Pea followed his friend across the tracks, the rift between the two sides long forgotten and he was glad to be swapping his small apartment for a two bed house. Even if it did feel lonely with having no one to fill that void in his life despite the many dates Toni and Fangs had continued to set him up on.

And just when he’d given up all hope and accepted the fact that maybe a relationship just wasn’t for him, she showed up on his doorstep with a shy smile and a nervous look in her eyes.

It never failed to amaze Sweet Pea that just the mere sight of her was enough to get his heart racing and his head spinning, even after all these years. He smiled into her hair as she wrapped her arms around his waist, forgetting every way he’d told himself he didn’t need her. Who had he been trying to kid? He practically craved her existence even if he had told his friends he didn’t care where she was anymore.

He missed the warmth of her body instantly as she pulled back a little, hands still lingering on his hips as she whispered his name and Sweet Pea wished he could play that sound on repeat. He relished in the way their bodies were only inches apart as he listened when she explained that Jughead had given her his address when she ran into him at Pops, laughing when she asked if he minded.

As she continued to speak he felt his eyes reluctantly trailing to her hands that still remained on both his sides, knowing that he was subconsciously looking for a ring. But when he saw all her fingers were bare he couldn’t help but grin.

She hadn’t gotten married.

Or if she had, she wasn’t any longer and Sweet Pea had an overwhelming urge to invite her in and finally confess everything he felt when he was caught off guard.

Sweet Pea felt like the word ‘Mommy’ floated through the air and stabbed him in the chest. His eyes flicked up to hers, a mixture of hurt, anger and betrayal as the little boy ran to her and wrapped his arms around her leg. Sweet Pea watched as she picked him up with easy, balancing on him on her hip. He was so shocked he barely heard her introduce them, too mesmerised by the way the young child clung onto her, shyly heading his face in her neck before brushing his dark hair out of his eyes, her eyes, and staring at Sweet Pea with a fierce curiosity.

It was only when she emphasised her sons age again that something clicked within Sweet Pea.

The boy she held in her arms was three years old. Meaning she had found out she was pregnant around four years ago.

But four years ago Sweet Pea had walked into a surprise party thrown by his best friend to find her waiting for him.

Four years ago they had done something they shouldn’t in the back of his car in a rainy airport car park.

He found himself staring between the two, throat going dry but all it took was one nod from her to know the truth.

The boy wasn’t just hers.

He was Sweet Pea’s too.

After that it was as if Sweet Pea’s body transitioned into autopilot, his mind working on over drive. Without a single word he moved aside to let her in, remaining silent as he watched her lay the boy on the couch, soothing him to sleep before joining him in the kitchen.

He listened as an explanation flowed from her in a hurried rush. She confirmed that Y/S/N was his, that she’d found out she was pregnant 2 months after leaving Riverdale, broke off her engagement straight away and in a dazed haze decided to stay away. He continued to say nothing as she apologised for only now coming to her senses, confessing that she’d realised her son needed his father and that Sweet Pea deserved to know the truth.

“Stay.”

Sweet Pea didn’t think it through before the word fell from his lips but he knew he meant it with every fibre within his body, he needed her to stay this time, he wasn’t about to just simply let her leave again.

She replied with a laugh, a mixture of confusion and shock as she told him that he should be angry at her, hate her even instead of forgiving her too quickly and now it was his turn to laugh.

“That’s the thing Y/N-“ He whispered, his fingertips dancing across her cheek, smiling when she nuzzled her face into his hand. “I could never hate you, I love you too much for that.”

She grinned at his confession, tears in her eyes over the words that had never been uttered between them. She revealed she felt the same, she’d always felt the same, and if he wanted them to stay then she’d stay.

In that moment, Sweet Pea swore he’d never been happier and he couldn’t help but pull her closer, squeezing at her hips as their lips met in sweet moment.

And that’s when it hit Sweet Pea, an overwhelming amount of hope that always seemed to roll into town the same time she did.

Hope that this was it, hope that he’d finally get everything he’d ever wanted.

Hope that they could finally be together.

-

At thirty years old Sweet Pea couldn’t wish for more, he had everything he wanted.

A son. A bright and bubbly six year old boy who loved pancakes for breakfast and playing football for hours on the weekend. His features mirrored his Dad’s more and more everyday and Sweet Pea prayed he’d stop growing up so fast, desperate for his son to keep his childhood innocence a little bit longer.

A wife. It hadn’t taken him long to propose, in fact he’d got down on one knee three months after she moved in. They married less than a year later, Fangs as best man, Toni as a bridesmaid, neither of them willing to waste anymore time than they already had.

And just when Sweet Pea thought his heart couldn’t grow anymore Y/N threw in another surprise.

He came home from work that day to find a gift box with his name scribbled on top sitting on the kitchen table. His curiosity got the better of him as he shrugged off his jacket and rushed straight to it. His fingers grazed the lid as he thought of the date. It wasn’t an anniversary or a birthday, and it certainly wasn’t Valentine’s Day or Christmas yet she’d gotten him something.

“Open it then.” He turned to see her staring at him from the stairs, a grin instantly forming on his face at the sight of her and if wasn’t for the box and his need to know what was inside he would have reached for her instead.

When he eventually lifted the lid off and peered in he heart began to hammer in his chest, the beating so loud it was all he could hear. His throat was instantly dry, his hands shaking as he picked up the test to see two clear blue lines.

“Is this- are you?” He stammered over his words, tongue heavy in his mouth as he struggled to form a sentence. “I’m gonna be a Dad again?”

She nodded, laughing at his reaction as he raced towards her, a large hand splaying across her stomach as if he could feel the baby inside.

He could have sworn he stopped breathing when she looked up at him and smiled, that same smile she’d given him at five years old when she’d found him alone in a corner of class room. The same smile that had Sweet Pea hooked from day one, the smile that gave him hope even in his darkest of days and he couldn’t stop the tears that trailed down his cheeks.

“I love you.”

Sweet Pea Masterlist

Serendipity Taglist: @madaboutlili @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @devineanguish

Notes: Well done to @madaboutlili for guessing what Pea saw haha!

[shewillreadyou]

Becoming: Chapter 11- A woman’s worth

As always. I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

A/N: Will Karis break under Madeleine’s pressure?

Disclaimers: All characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: Language, sexual content, tw character death

Catch up: Becoming

Word Count:2638

Pairings: Liam x MC (Karis Vasquez

Song inspiration: A woman’s worth- Alicia Keys

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.​

“Excuse me, may I have this dance?”

“Raymond, wow of course, well if it’s okay with you Liam?”

Liam smiles but it does not reach his eyes.

“Of course. I’ll catch up with you soon,” he says as he heads towards Rashad.

On the dance floor

“Karis, you look…damn.”

She blushes furiously but her blush quickly fades.

“Raymond, you look great too. But what are you doing here?”

Raymond looks around to see who is within earshot. He pulls her close and speaks in a low voice in her ear as Liam eyes him from across the room.

“Are you ok? Just squeeze me if you are not. I got a phone call from some chick named–”

“Let me guess, Madeleine?”

“Yeah, she wants you out of the way. She asked me what was going on between the two of us. I told her that we were colleagues. She insisted that I come here tonight as her plus one and talk you into going back with me. I was about to hang up the phone on her when I realized that you might be in danger.”

“Really? You are just as bad as Liam? You flew here to save me? Well thank you but I’m fine, really.”

“Kar, these people don’t want you here. They were willing to fly me here, on the off chance that I could talk you into leaving. Is this really the life that you want? Come back to Paris with me. You can finish school, go to law school and come work at the firm. You don’t have to have drama for the sake of love. Come back with me tomorrow, I can’t offer you a palace but once your internship is up my flat is yours.”

“Raymond, you’re sweet. Clueless but sweet. I don’t care about living in a palace, or whether Madeleine wants me here or if my relationship looks like drama to you. All I want, all I ever wanted was Liam. So, I’m sorry you wasted your time coming here, but if you would do me a favor, go tell Maddie, that she can go to hell.”

At the head table

Liam approaches Rashad with fire in his eyes. “I want answers. Why is he here?”

“Why is who here, Li?”

“Raymond Perry!”

“You mean Madeleine’s plus one? I have no idea? Do you know him?”

“Yeah, we’ve met. He’s Karis’ co worker.”

“Wait, he’s that Raymond? And you let him dance with her?”

“Yes, because I didn’t want to cause a scene and I trust her.”

Karis saunters up to Liam, her expression is unreadable.

“Rashad, Russell, thank you both so much for your hospitality. This has all been lovely. I look forward to seeing you both soon. Liam, a word?” she said calmly.

“Sure angel.”

“Can we go now? I can not be sure I won’t embarrass you if I run into Madeleine.”

“Absolutely. I’ll say a few goodbye’s.” He makes the rounds and instructs his guard to escort Karis to the car.”

While she is waiting for Adonis, the door to the car opens and Madeleine gets in and closes the door.

“Madeleine.” Karis never even looks at her.

“You know Karis, I have tried being nice to you. I even flew your little boyfriend here to talk some sense into you to no avail. There is no reasoning with you. What would Liam think if his little miss perfect was caught in a compromising position with her boyfriend?”

“Oh, you think i’m perfect? Liam knows better. Besides, I have never been in a compromising position with Raymond or anyone else for that matter. And you know Madeleine, I could say the same for you. You are impossible. No wonder Leo left you for some random girl he met on a cruise. You want Liam?” She turned to stare at her with an icy gaze.

“Take him from me.”

Just then there is a knock on the window. Madeleine opened the door to find a livid Olivia standing in the breezy night.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Maddie? Liam is going to flip his shit. Is this what you think is going to win him over? What did you do, threaten her? Give it up. She isn’t afraid of you?”

She pulls Madeleine out of the car by her arm and the two of them head back into the estate arguing quietly. Moments later Liam joins her and they head back to his apartment. The moment the car starts to move Liam reaches for her hand and she begins to sob uncontrollably.

“Whoa, Karis. What’s this about?” He slid closer to her on the seat and wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed on his chest.

She was so overwhelmed with emotion she could not get out a coherent sentence. When they arrived a short time later at his apartment, he held her close carrying a great deal of her body weight as they entered the elevator. When they made it inside, he helped her settle on the couch and got her a box of tissues and a glass of water.

He sat next to her rubbing soothing circles on her back. When she was finally calm enough to speak, she took several cleansing breaths and turned to Liam.

“I didn’t come to Cordonia to be arrested for murder. Keep Madeleine away from me Adonis.”

“What did she do? Is this about Raymond?”

“No, it’s about you. It’s about the crown. She is relentless. Raymond was just a pawn. She doesn’t have an issue with me, outside of I am in her way. She sent for him thinking that he could talk me into leaving tonight with him and when that didn’t work, she threatened to blackmail me.”

Liam’s mouth falls open, he wipes her tears.

“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I will handle it. Promise.”

He kissed her lips sweetly and they settled into a comfortable silence.

“So, it’s still early. What else did you have planned for tonight?”

“It’s funny that you asked. I’ll be right back.”

Liam disappears onto the terrace and is gone a few minutes before he comes strolling casually back into the living area with a devilish smirk on his face.

“What are you up to?”

“Oh, nothing dear.”

“You’re lying, but ok. Have you checked on your Dad today?”

“Yes, he is stable. But they still aren’t releasing him.”

“I was thinking we should get up early tomorrow and go see him. Maybe take him a decent cup of coffee and a heart healthy breakfast.”

Liam stares off in the distance, lost in thought.

“You have to forgive him, you know.”

“Huh?” Her words snatch him from his reverie.

“Not for him. For you.”

He nodded his head, still not focused on her.

“Earth to Adonis!”

“I’m here. I’ve never had anyone I’ve wanted so badly to please.”

“Most people want to please their parents.”

“Not him.” he finally focuses, looking at her with adoration.

She looks confused.

“You.”

“Me?” she looks puzzled.

“Yes, you. Have I told you how incredible you are today?”

“Nah, but i’m listening.”

“After the day you’ve had, you’re still thinking about me.”

“Of course I am.”

“You are discerning, and sincere, and quick-witted, and courageous, and diligent, and capable,” he dotes on her as he peppers her neck with kisses. She squeals with a smile from ear to ear.

He picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder and smacks her ass.

“Where are we going?” she giggles.

“You’ll see. Patience my queen.”

When they stopped out on the terrace he sat her down they were met with a large hot tub with candles lit all around.

“Did you do this for me?”

“Yeah, I did. I wanted it to be romantic. Is it cheesy?”

“No, it’s sweet. But aren’t we a little over dressed?”

Before she could get the words out he had shrugged out of his suit coat and was reaching for the zipper of her dress. When it pooled at her ankles she stepped out of it and he held her hand helping her into the steamy water of the hot tub.

“OMG, it’s amazing!”

He looks at her and slowly takes his clothes off piece by piece until he is standing in only his boxer briefs.

“You know, It’s not nice to tease, your majesty.”

He joins her in the water and shivers as his body adjusted to the temperature. He sat on one of the underwater benches and pulled her on to his lap. She straddled him and he gazed into her eyes for what felt like an eternity. She poured them both a glass of champagne.

“What?”

“I was just thinking…What does love mean to you, Karis?”

“Love is…sacrifice, dedication, loyalty, compromising, and commitment.

“All important to making a relationship work.”

“What does it mean to you?”

“You know it’s funny. I never even gave it any real thought before I met you. I certainly wasn’t raised to have any expectation of romance in my life.”

“That’s funny coming from you. You are incredibly romantic.”

“You think so?”

“I do. Now, answer my question.”

“Hmm, love is patient, honest, kind, protecting, giving, thoughtful and trusting. I have never known love in this sense until I met you. I knew that  I loved you the morning I left your apartment back in New York for the airport.”

“Really? Day one?”

“Absolutely. You didn’t feel it?”

“I clearly felt a strong connection. I don’t think it was love. But it was something. That’s probably why I was so hurt.”

“When I found out what Madeleine did, I knew that her character was not one of a queen. Leo tried to warn me to keep an eye on her. Let me ask you this, when did you know?”

“I knew the moment I smelled your cologne in Paris. It was like every bit of logic went out the window.  My emotions came storming back in, like a flood. I was hurt. But longed for you, I craved you, I missed you.”

She tried to blink away the tears but, alas it was in vain.

‘No, no crying right now. We are being romantic.”

She smiled.

“That’s what I want to see. Let’s talk about something else. I know we briefly talked about it and you said that you wanted kids and I know my father mentioned it, but… How many kids do you think you want?” he asked as he sipped his champagne.

She takes a moment to consider her answer.

“I dunno, maybe 7 or 8,” she said casually.

He spit out his champagne.

“How many kids?”

She smirked. “Your father did say that heirs equal stability.

“Clearly you intend to be very stable.”

She takes his glass from his hand, and places both glasses carefully on the side of the hot tub. She turned to him and clasped her hands behind his neck.

“I don’t have a set number of children I want. I will be happy with whatever number of children we have.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and she kissed him sweetly.

“Does it freak you out at all that this time next year we could be married and expecting our first child?”

“Only slightly. Definitely not as much as I expected it to freak me out.”

He kisses her again. This time it was urgent and deep. His hands traced her curves and found the clasp to her bra. It plopped into the water and floated at the top as his mouth moved openly down her pulse line. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

His tongue teased her collarbone before he took her perky breast into his mouth. His tongue flicked her nipple while his hand gently massaged the other. The water lapped around them as she grinded on his lap. He lifted his hips and slid his boxers off freeing his hardened length. She took him in her hand stroking him as he groaned in pleasure.

He lifted her by the waist to stand on the bench. He pulled her black lace thong to the side as his mouth found her center. Her knees buckled and his strong arm circled her waist pulling her closer and supporting her at the same time. “Je veux seulement te plaire.”

“Adonis!” she screamed his name as she rubbed his bald head. When she was starting to come undone he pulled away with a smirk.

“You are teasing me again,” she said slightly shivering.

He pulled her back down into the warm water and wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m not teasing. I need to be inside of you,” he says as she straddles him again.

She reaches for him guiding him to her entrance. She took in a sharp breath as she stretched around him. Her eyes widened at the sensation.

“Go slow. We have all night.”

“Like I have a choice.”

“God, you feel incredible. It’s so tight.”

“You feel large.”

“Sorry.” He grinned sheepishly.

“Don’t be,” she said as she picked up the pace.

He lifted his hips, winding them slowly at first, then rolling them thrusting harder.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No.”

“Well, stop running from this dick.”

“Oh my god. Adonis, I can’t!” she moaned.

“Yes you can. Take it,” he said as he began thrusting like a jack hammer.

She wrapped her arms around him tightly and began contracting around him as she plunged up and down on his length.

“I’m, I’m soooo close. Give me every inch of you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please love.”

“If you insist..”

Her once straight hair was now dark and curly from the way the water was splashing, just how he liked it.

He tangled his hands in her dark wet curls exposing her neck. He didn’t know if it was the way the moon was glowing against her caramel skin or the way the water beaded up as she bobbed up and down out of the water, but he couldn’t have been more turned on. He thrusted into her completely filling her. Her eyes went wide.

“Take it. Take this dick.”

She was sure she felt it in her stomach. After a few more powerful thrusts they fell over the edge together. He carried her bridal style to bed where slumber found them both quickly.

The next morning they arose early to visit with Constantine before they got their day started. Karis had made breakfast and snuck it into Constantine, in her purse. She also had a canteen full of his favorite dark roast coffee.  

“She is thoughtful, smart, beautiful, fearless and can cook. Keep this one Liam.”

“That’s the plan, father.”

“Thank you, sir. You flatter me. Adonis, I’m going to give you two sometime alone.”

A few moments later, Liam joins her in the waiting area where she is chatting with Kenyon, the guard charged with looking after her while she was visiting.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, nurse Emily is in with him. I told him I would come back when she was done. Karis, what do I say to him?” he asked, his eyes threatening to spill tears he had been holding a lifetime.

“Keep it simple. Tell him that you love him. That you forgive him and that you hope that you have made him proud. Remember, this is for you.”

She gives him a hug and whispers, “I’m so proud of you,” in his ear as she squeezes him tight, before he heads back in to chat with his father.

About thirty minutes later, Karis was sitting checking social media when there was an announcement on the intercom.

<Rapid Response Cardiac Unit Suite A, Rapid Response Cardiac Unit Suite A, Rapid Response Cardiac Unit Suite A.>

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[kiss-my-freckle]

Because people keep claiming Red never leaves bodies behind. Three bodies in The Samaritan Killer. Wujing's tech. The Stewmaker. Floriana Campo. He sent Mako Tanida's head to Ressler. Anslo Garrick. Fake Berlin. T. Earl King VI. Sir Crispin Crandall. The Director. Scottie Hargrave's tactical team, Bradley, and more of Scottie's men at the airport. The body he cuffed to Miles McGrath. The Debt Collector. Smokey Putnam. Dennison. Colin Kilgannon. Sutton Ross. He was in a shootout to save Liz in Braxton: Conclusion. He was in a shootout to save Tony when he stole from Big Willie. He was in a shootout to save Koehler from The Corsican. He was in a shootout to save the task force in the S6 finale. He was in a shootout to save Cooper in his Kuwait episode. He killed Devane right in front of Ressler. He left bodies behind in Cornelius Ruck's episode. I don't recall anyone cleaning up Berdy's body. Or Gordon Kemp's. Or Roy Cain's.

Red could’ve left everything there (including the bodies), since Liz already witnessed him kill the woman. Because she was there, Liz can confirm that he also killed Heidegger. Instead, he took both bodies. He had them recover his gun even though he wore gloves and destroy the woman’s DNA even though Liz just watched her die. Let’s say the woman from Paris was the real Katarina Rostova. It would’ve done nothing to leave her body there with all the evidence to prove as much. Neville and the rest of the Townsend Directive players would simply learn that she faked her death - only to get killed later. There’s nothing to lose under these circumstances. Actual confirmation of Katarina’s death and her body literally handed right to them. What could protect Masha better than that? Nothing. It was the entire reason Dom and Ilya set her up to begin with. Dom and Ilya spoke of this. The woman and Liz spoke of this. It would’ve brought that danger for Liz to a complete end. Literally. 

Young Ilya: Are you worried they’ll find you? Young Dom: I’m worried they’ll find Masha, try and leverage her. Young Ilya: Look, Dom, I - I can’t help you. Young Dom: You made a promise! To Katarina. You told her you would look after Masha if anything happened to her.

Woman: He lied to you to hide the truth, that he tried to assassinate his own daughter. Liz: Why would he do that? Woman: Because if the people hunting me saw me die, then the person he really cared about would be safe. Liz: You’re his child. Who could he care about more than you? -- No. That can’t be true. Woman: I’m a mortal threat to you, a mother whose very existence puts her daughter’s life at risk. Liz: My grandfather tried to kill you to protect me. Woman: And in the process, he killed the man I loved. 

People would rather believe Red just killed Liz’s mother right in front of her, and actually believe she’ll somehow move past this and forgive Red despite it because they don’t want to accept what is. Red took the woman’s body because he wants the world to continue believing she was Katarina Rostova and for the Townsend Directive to continue believing she's dead. So long as they believe that, they won't go looking for Katarina or Masha. He's able to protect both mother and daughter that way. He had to take William Heidegger's body to avoid a future war againt Neville Townsend. The only thing William's secretary knows, is that Katarina Rosova called and William disappeared soon after. I doubt she'll talk, and I doubt Neville would believe her even if she did. Leaving her body and her DNA would only confirm the woman from Paris was an imposter, and in doing so, leave Katarina and Masha to the danger of the Townsend Directive. Red would never kill someone that close to Liz without compromise. He was willing to spare Kirk on the rooftop, Tom when he married her, and even spared Kate in the end. He spared all three despite the danger he felt they presented to Liz. His actions always lean in her favor because his love for his daughter makes him powerless. The woman being an imposter is more believable than Red killing Liz’s own mother right in front of her, and for no other reason than protecting himself. Because Liz comes first. Period. Dom would never kill his daughter. Ilya would never kill the childhood friend he pledged his life to. Katarina Rostova herself would die before placing her daughter's life in danger. She walked into Cape May waters for that very reason, would’ve changed her identity for that very reason. She sought help from Ilya, who suggested she become Reddington, and she did. In doing so, Red was able to build a criminal empire with the sole purpose of keeping himself free and his daughter safe. That's why Dom took a bullet and Ilya hung himself from a ceiling fan. "She loves you. She always has. Nothing could ever change that." Not even a gender transition. Red always loved and needed his father, his father simply didn't accept who he became. 

Perhaps Liz will. Because “Love wins.” 

[fantasyoverreality98]

Fight the Darkness Pt. 6

Masterlist

Pairing: Gaius Augustine x MC

Summary: Amy and Gaius begin to make their way to Greece, and the darkness grows.

Word Count: 3,757

-----

There was a moment of silence when Amy emerged from the bathroom, still wearing her soaked outfit. She refused to meet Gaius’ surprised stare, instead grabbing the clothes she had bought from the shop earlier to change into.

“What happened?” He crossed his arms over his chest and watched her change.

“Nothing.”

Telling the truth was not an option. No one could know about what she had done. All she could do was hope that it wouldn’t happen again. Yet, the tiniest part of her didn’t care. The power she felt was stronger than ever before.

“Amy.” His voice was soft, the concern for her only serving to make her feel worse. “You can tell me.”

She took a deep breath and tried to steady her shaking hands. “Nothing happened, okay? I’m fine.”

They stood facing each other for a minute, neither willing to back down. Gaius knew something had happened, and Amy would rather die than admit to what she had done.

“I need you to trust me,” she whispered, looking him in the eyes, silently begging him to let the topic go.

Frowning, Gaius eventually relaxed, nodding as he took a step back. “Okay. I trust you.”

Amy turned before he could see the panic on her face. They needed to get out of town before someone discovered the bodies. “Do you think the next biggest city is within walking distance?”

It was hard to believe that it had only a couple days since they’d been reunited. She felt like it had been ages since they’d walked side by side to that abandoned house.

“Perhaps if we leave immediately.” Gaius watched her hurry to pack up her things, shoving whatever she could into her backpack before she grabbed Jax’s katana and strapped it to her back. “Are you sure you feel alright?”

“I’m positive. I just want to get to Mydiea as soon as possible.” She turned to face him, forcing a smile. “The sooner we deal with this problem, the better.”

Her wording seemed the wrong choice. “Has it gotten worse? Is that why you’re in such a hurry to leave?”

Screams echoed in her mind, the overwhelming smell of blood still clinging to her. She knew that Gaius could probably smell it too, even if he chose not to say anything. “I just want to get to Mydiea as soon as possible.” Amy realized she had just repeated herself, and turned away from him again.

“Okay. We’ll leave then.” He grabbed his things and slipped the rest of his clothes back on. She noted how he kept his old outfit, and couldn’t help but laugh quietly to herself.

Less than ten minutes later, they were walking down a deserted street. The night was silent, and Amy chewed on her bottom lip as she continued to scan the stores in search of an area for feeding. There were no places. It seemed like they were in a town that did not approve of vampires. As if her earlier encounter hadn’t already confirmed that.

Gaius grabbed her hand after they’d been walking for what seemed like hours. Surprised, she looked up at him, fighting the urge to tell him the truth when he smiled at her.

“Tell me about your travels after you left New York.” It occurred to her that she had barely asked him what he’d been doing for the past two decades.

“I stayed in Germany for a while. Nearly five years.” He kept his eyes trained straight ahead, the expression on his face making it obvious he was thinking about the past. “And then I was in France for a little over a year. Many were not very forgiving when they realized I was still alive and free.”

Amy frowned, turning her head to look at him. “Who?”

The smile Gaius gave her was not genuine. “I have many enemies in many places. Their names do not matter.”

“Think they might change their minds in a thousand years?”

To her surprise, he laughed, wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes as he grinned. “Possibly.” The moment of joy didn’t last long, his expression returning to one of regret once more. “Kamilah will never forgive me. Neither will Adrian. Not even five thousand years will be enough for me to repent for all my sins.”

“That isn’t fair. And it isn’t true.” Amy once more thought about what she had done, and shivered, wondering if her own actions were worthy of forgiveness. “A thousand years is a long time. I can’t even fathom that amount. You’ve already changed so much, and you still have nine-hundred and seventy-five years to go. Wow, I just realized how insane that sounds.”

“You get used to the passage of time eventually.”

She highly doubted that.

Their conversation died out as the two continued to walk down the road. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance, the sound echoing off the trees. It was hard to believe that a city could be anywhere near them.

The moon cast a pale light over them, its circular shape in the sky larger than Amy had ever seen it. For a while, she simply stared at the road ahead, listening for any approaching vehicles.

“Did you get a chance to feed?” Gaius’ voice drew her out of the silence that had taken over.

It was a question she had no idea how to answer.

Amy pulled her hand away from his, trying to keep her features indifferent. “Yes. Why? Are you hungry?”

He was staring at her. She could feel his eyes on her face, studying every movement as they walked along the side of the road. Try as she may to pretend everything was fine, it seemed he could see right through it.

“I can manage.” The longer he looked at her, the harder it became to keep her composure.

Finally, Amy couldn’t deal with it anymore. She turned her head towards him and frowned. “Can I help you? Stop staring.”

Gaius bit his bottom lip, not saying a word.

Shaking her head, she began to walk faster. The air somehow felt heavier than before. As if she could sense every atom that made up the world.

And all of it belongs to you.

The voice inside her head had once sounded like a different person, as though someone else resided within, but it was beginning to sound more and more like her own. Amy thought about her dream, of how a voice had called to her, coaxed her into bringing the physical form of the First Vampire back.

What if she really was becoming like Rheya?

“There’s still one more package of blood if you need it.” Her voice sounded louder in the quiet night. “I can always get more once we reach get to Greece.”

Something moved within the bushes, and Amy froze, her entire body tensing as she prepared for a fight.

Instead of a dangerous beast, a badger emerged from the trees. It clambered up the small hill beside the road, not sparing a glance in the direction of the two vampires, before hurrying to the other side and disappearing into the forest once more.

“I think I might actually miss this place,” Amy said, her smile fading when she looked at Gaius and saw him still watching her. She cleared her throat, focusing on the long walk ahead of them. “We’ll have to come back someday.”

When he did not answer her, she felt rage start to build in her chest. The mood swings had been growing worse with each passing day. Eventually, she would snap. And she wasn’t sure if she wanted him around when that happened. There was no telling what she might do.

After they’d been walking for a few hours, lights appeared in the distance. They’d finally reached a city. At least, that’s what she hoped.

“Now we just need to find an airport.” Gaius spoke for the first time in hours, and the way he looked down at her was startling. Amy opened her mouth to answer, but found that she could not find any words to say.

He looked scared.

Dammit. He knew. Gaius knew what she had done. She had been a complete and utter idiot to think he wouldn’t.

“Do you want to see if there’s somewhere you can feed first?” Amy tried to mask her fear, forcing another smile. “I’m sure we have some time to spare.”

“I’ll manage with what we have left. We should just focus on our task.” He hesitated a moment before pulling her close, brushing his lips against hers briefly. “My main concern is you, Amy.”

That just made her feel worse. She gripped his biceps, afraid of when this moment would end. He held her close for a while, the two of them ignoring the rest of the world. Every time she was left alone for too long, the voice returned. She knew it was wrong to almost use him as a distraction, but he was the only one who could make her forget momentarily about everything.

“And mine is you.” If things got worse, if she found it harder to resist feeding on anyone who happened to be near her at the time, she knew that it would be too dangerous for Gaius to remain with her. If the darkness won, she had to convince him to leave before it was too late. Or, what seemed like the only true solution, she had to get him to kill her.

Again.

Amy shook as she tried to breathe in, remembering how it felt when Jax’s sword entered her chest. The idea of dying again wasn’t pleasant. There would be no coming back this time. But if that was what it took to stop this power, she knew it was what must be done. Otherwise, she would destroy the world and everyone she loved with it.

“We can get through this,” she said, reaching up to touch his face.

“I will be here for you every step of the way.” Gaius ran his fingers through her hair, his expression serious. “But you need to trust me, too.”

She tensed and pulled back. “I do trust you.” But even she could hear the hostility in the tone of her voice. The world around them seemed to shudder, thunder rumbling somewhere in the distance.

Gaius raised an eyebrow, giving her a knowing look. “Do you?”

Did she? How could she know that he really had changed? Perhaps it was all an act to get her to lower her guard.

The thought was preposterous, and Amy laughed out loud, pushing him away from her. She shook her head and continued walking toward the city. A question like that didn’t deserve an answer. Of course she trusted him. He had been willing to sacrifice himself to stop Rheya. If anything, she was the untrustworthy one now.

“You did not answer my question.” Gaius walked alongside her, and it still surprised her to look over and not see a cloak trailing behind him.

“I don’t think an answer is necessary. If you have to question if I trust you, then that means that you don’t trust me.” She was growing tired of this constant debate. It would get them nowhere.

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the short walk to the city. When they reached the lights, the bustle of traffic, Amy had to stop. She gasped as she felt the energy of thousands of people around her. Every heartbeat, every breath, every movement. The potential roared inside her.

Yes. YES.

It would be so easy to call to all those lives, to claim them as her own. Mortals were so fragile. Their lives were ever changing, always ending. That man’s wrist had snapped back in that town, and she’d barely touched him. Humans were weak. Inferior.  

Suddenly, she was hungry again.

“I think we should find somewhere to feed,” Amy said, turning to Gaius. “The flight to Greece might be long.”

“We don’t have time.”

Frustrated, she turned her back to him, the temptation to call upon her power hard to ignore. It wasn’t like she needed permission to feed. She could do whatever she wanted. All she had to do was distract Gaius long enough to get her fill.

A few minutes. That was all she needed. Then, she would feel better. Just a little more power. Surely he could see her side of things.

He doesn’t understand. You stupid girl, did you think he would?

“Get out of my head,” Amy whispered to herself, trying to focus on the sounds of the city to drown out the voice in her head. It wasn’t her.

After walking around the city some more, they finally found somewhere to get more information on where an airport would be. It was a short taxi ride away. Amy hesitated to turn her phone back on, but eventually gave in and pressed down on the power button.

There were dozens of missed calls from all of her friends. Lily had somehow managed to send over a hundred texts in the hours between the phone call with Adrian and this moment. One message from Adrian stood out from the rest of them, its five words striking fear into her heart.

We’re coming to get you.

Ignoring the lump that had formed in her throat, Amy dialed a taxi company and gave their current location while Gaius paced in front of the building. He looked like the more normal of the two now. That thought made her want to laugh again, but there was nothing funny about the situation. Once the bodies were discovered in the town—if they hadn’t been already—she would no longer be able to hide her location. Adrian, Kamilah, and Lily would know that it had been her doing.

Let them figure it out. No one will be able to stop you, anyway.

The voice was becoming stronger as her power grew. What had once been whispers, slight suggestions, was turning into her inner thoughts. She wanted to do these unspeakable things. It was taking less and less coaxing now.

Closing her eyes in an attempt to escape did not help. Jax awaited her on the other side.

“Amy?” Gaius stepped toward her when she fell back against the stone wall of the building they stood outside. She couldn’t hear his voice, shutting her eyes as more memories washed over her.

“Listen…if I start to go Feral…you need to promise me you’ll kill me. I don’t want to live like one of those things.” She remembered Lily agreeing, and Kamilah’s insistence that no one was turning Feral. Her assurance that it would all be okay.

It wouldn’t be okay.

Waking up in the middle of the night screaming, watching as Lily scrambled to find a way to comfort her.

Adrian holding her while she sobbed for the hundredth time in his office.

Kamilah going for walks with her in hopes it would help.

All three of them having secret conversations when Amy was in another room, their hushed whispers still loud enough for her to hear fragments.

“—power is growing.”

“Don’t know how we’ll be able to stop her if—”

“—will not have you even suggest that as a way to—”

Amy jumped when a bright light shone in her face. She opened her eyes again, surprised to see the taxi approaching. Gaius stood beside her, one hand on her elbow while the other pressed into the small of her back, keeping her on her feet.

“Taxi’s here,” she mumbled, trying to insert some playfulness in her voice. “Better hurry before we miss it.”

Vibrant blue eyes stared down at her, every muscle in Gaius’ face perfectly still. She wished he would smile again. She loved it when he smiled.

“Hurry up! I haven’t got all night!” The taxi driver was nothing like Seth. Amy wouldn’t feel so bad if she slipped up and used her power on him.

She broke away from Gaius’ gaze to glare at the driver, standing up straight as she made her way toward the vehicle. Once they were both in the back seat, she read off the airport address from her phone, pausing when she saw her lock screen. It was a picture of her and Lily. With a sigh, she turned the phone off again.

“What happened back there?” Gaius muttered the question under his breath, keeping his eyes trained on the taxi driver. “You were like that for several minutes.”

Amy shrugged, resting her head on his shoulder. “It happens a lot. I was just remembering things.”

“That does not reassure me.” He took her hand in his, running his thumb along her knuckles. “Were you thinking about Jax again?”

“Yes.” She could hear the pounding of the driver’s heart, the steady rhythm calling to her. She wondered how long it would take to drain his energy. The men in the town had been finished off in less than a minute. This would probably take seconds.

Her attention was diverted from the idea of gaining more power when Gaius reached for her face, turning her head to look at him as he leaned forward to kiss her. His lips were warm, and she couldn’t help but sigh quietly, welcoming the distraction.

They continued to kiss until they reached the airport. Amy pulled away, ignoring the irritated clearing of the driver’s throat. “Thank you,” she mouthed to Gaius, shooting the driver a glare as they left the car.

A smirk tugged at her lips and she focused on the small light near the driver’s head. It surged with energy, glowing brighter, before it shattered. The man yelped, and quickly drove off after they’d paid for the ride.

“You cannot do that.” Gaius watched the vehicle disappear, turning back to her with a look of disappointment. “Not only will actions like that raise suspicion, but you’re using the power. Which you should not do.”

“Oh, come on, if we’re all doomed, I may as well have a little fun.” Her head felt clearer than it had all night. The brief moment of amusement had lightened her spirits. “Fine. I promise not to do that again,” she said when Gaius continued to look at her with disapproval.

Hardly anyone was around the airport, but they were lucky that a flight to Greece was departing in a few hours. If only they had a private jet, it would make things a lot easier. Amy made a mental note to one day become rich enough that she could afford her own plane.

“So, what happened before I woke up? Why were you wearing your clothes in the shower?”

Shit. There was no avoiding that question. “I, uh, fell. In some mud.”

“We both know that is the worst excuse you have ever come up with.”

Amy took a seat, dropping her back on the floor. “I had an accident.”

There was a moment of silence before Gaius spoke. “You killed again.”

It startled her how nonchalantly he said it. She watched him from the corner of her eye, not sure whether to admit to it or try to deny her actions. The last time she had said it out loud, had told the story about killing the human in New York, the darkness had returned stronger than before.

“Am I correct?”

Another moment of silence. Amy sighed, slouching in her chair. “Yes.”

“How bad was it?”

She frowned, watching a plane outside on the runway prepare for takeoff. “Why are you so calm about this? Shouldn’t you be furious with me? Adrian and Kamilah would—”

“Do you forget who you are talking to?” He cut off the rest of her sentence, watching the same plane as her. “Was it truly an accident, or did you do it on purpose?”

Amy had no idea how to answer that. She wanted to believe that it was an accident, and yet she was the one who kept using her power. Those people would not be dead had she not answered the call she’d spent twenty-five years ignoring. “I don’t know.”

Gaius sighed, craning his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “Let’s just get to Mydiea.”

By next week, all of this could be a distant memory. The struggle she had been going through might end in less than twenty-four hours.

Or, the world could be destroyed.

As they sat in the airport, the people inside started to grow quieter. She was sure it was her imagination, but the lights seemed to flicker. An older woman sat across from them, her eyes fluttering shut after a few minutes of silence.

Everything felt warm. Amy had to take her jacket off, grabbing a magazine she’d shoved into her backpack during her first flight to Europe and using it to fan herself.

The hum of electricity grew deafening. Someone yelped somewhere else in the building, the sound echoing off the high ceiling. Their laughter soon followed. This time, she knew it wasn’t her imagination when the lights flickered again. Energy hung in the air, and Amy tapped her fingernails against the armchair of her seat as she sensed dozens of lives around her. Beyond the airport, she could feel the people of the city. Hunger stirred within her, but this was not the kind of hunger that could be quelled by feeding on blood.

“Let’s get ready to board the plane.” Gaius’ voice sounded far away, and it took several seconds for Amy to pull herself back to her body. It was as though her mind had wandered elsewhere, studying all the people around her, dreaming of the amount of power she could gain from them.

Smiling, Amy nodded, grabbing her things as she followed Gaius to the gate.

As they boarded the plane, she could feel the life pulling toward her once more. She tried to keep a straight face, tried to hide the surprise and undeniable pleasure that whatever was happening gave her. There was no blood this time. Only the familiar sense of growing power.

The lights went out in the airport, shrouding the occupants in darkness. Screams still rang in the air long after the plane had left the city far behind. Over a dozen lifeless corpses were scattered throughout the building. But when Amy realized what she had just done after the initial intoxication of power had faded, it was much too late.

[jackiejacks923]

NYE

Summary: Just a NYE wedding…that’s all….

Pairing: Shownu x reader

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!! Wishing you all the best of everything this life can offer in this new year. This is just a little piece that @prettywordsyouleft had put in my head and said I should write. I hope you enjoy!

——-

New Year’s Eve. A day that was celebrated in so many different ways in your life. In your youth, you remembered it as an excuse to stay up way past your bedtime to make as much noise as possible to ring in the new year. In your teenage years, you experienced that first New Year’s kiss with the boy that would eventually break your heart, which would lead to many New Year’s Eves you would spend on your own in your pajamas.

Until that fateful New Year’s Eve when your BFFs dragged you out of your funk to set you up on a blind date with their significant others’ friend, Hyunwoo. It was awkward at first, but his gentleman-like tendencies had you warming up to him and attempting to draw him out of his shell. When the countdown started and couples began to kiss at the stroke of midnight around you, you looked up at him smiling, still contemplating if you should or shouldn’t. His lips then met yours as you were still lost in your thoughts and you felt that zing. A zing that would change you forever. A zing that he felt, as well, that told him he wanted to be the only man you kiss ever again.

That zing was the reason he stayed by your side every day since that day. After two Christmases spent together, he popped the question to be by your side forevermore. And here you were a year after his Christmas proposal on New Year’s Eve, your wedding day, hours before the countdown.

You both wanted a simple beach wedding, but in order for that to happen in the winter, you had to plan for a destination wedding. That is how you found yourselves in separate hotel rooms in Hawaii with only a handful of family and the closest friends joining you in celebrating your nuptials. Your guests were currently enjoying dinner and music underneath a canopy on the beach as the cool, salty ocean breeze blew around them before the actual ceremony. Dinner for you and your groom were served in your respective quarters with your wedding party accompanying each of you.

Your hair had been did and make-up done. You stared at your wedding present to your future husband in your hand with your personal note while pictures were being taken to capture the memories being made this night. Like the time this watch keeps, as is my love for you…everlasting, your note read. You handed off your gift to your maids of honor, Tani & Chelle, to deliver to your groom.

“Thank you,” you expressed to them as you smiled brightly. At that same moment, there was a knock on the hotel door. Tani answered it and discovered Hyunwoo’s best men, who also happened to be her and Chelle’s husbands, Hoseok and Kihyun, there with a delivery of their own. They each greeted their wives with a kiss as they entered the room.

“You look amazing, Y/N,” Hoseok commented as he walked over to give you a hug.

“Here, this is from Hyunwoo,” Kihyun said as he handed you the tiny box he had in his hands. You opened it to discover a beautiful diamond star necklace with a blue sapphire in the center. Hoseok handed you an envelope and with that, they took their cue to exit and accompany Tani & Chelle on their delivery mission to Hyunwoo, as well as to check that everything is going well at the pre-reception party.

You opened the envelope and inside you found a note with Hyunwoo’s handwriting. Like this star you continue to be the light that shines brightly in my life, lighting up even the darkest of corners. I can’t wait to start my forever with you. You smiled as you placed the note back and pulled the necklace out of the box as you placed it around your neck to wear. It was the perfect “something blue” you needed.

You took a picture of the necklace around your neck and sent it to Hyunwoo. Thank you! It’s perfect ❤.

Moments later your phone pinged. It looks beautiful on you. I love the watch. I’m wearing it tonight too ❤. A pic of his wrist adorned with the watch and his hand throwing up the thumbs-up sign followed shortly after.

You smiled at your phone. Honey, I’m nervous 🙁 I need a hug right now.

Shall we ignore superstition? I’ll be there in one second if you want.

I think maybe we should’ve just eloped.

I would’ve been OK with doing that, too. Shall I go get a taxi for the airport?

But everybody spent money to get here to celebrate with us.

Baby, I’m sure they’ll forgive us…eventually. So long as you’re happy and I grow old with you, it doesn’t matter to me.

I’m just being impatient. I haven’t seen you all day.

I miss you too 😘

You and Hyunwoo texted back and forth talking about everything under the sun to pass the hours away as you both waited to be reunited. It was one of his super powers you knew he had. He was always able to calm you down when things started to get overwhelming for you.

Tani & Chelle returned from checking on the guests.

“Y/N, are you ready? It’s time!” Tani stated excitedly. You nodded with a smile.

The girls are back. It’s time! I’ll see you soon. You quickly texted Hyunwoo.

I’ll be the one in the suit that can’t stop smiling 😁.

I’ll be the one in white trying not to run down the aisle ❤.

You placed your phone on the table in the room as Chelle handed you your bouquet and your two BFFs assisted you as you made your way to your waiting groom.

You had timed it just right. 30 minutes before the stroke of midnight the wedding march to start the ceremony began. Hyunwoo made his entrance first looking sharp in his white and black suit with Hoseok and Kihyun following behind him in their matching white suits with rose gold accents. Then entered the ring bearer, Chelle and Kihyun’s son, in a suit matching his father’s with a serious face as he focused on balancing the rings on the white satin pillow. Following him came the flower girl, Tani and Hoseok’s daughter, smiling in her blush pink dress adorned with white flower accents as she tossed flower petals like she practiced for so many weeks. Tani and Chelle then made their entrance side by side in their pink and white floral dresses.

The music then started to cue your entrance. You opted out of the traditional Here Comes the Bride song that every bride had walked down the aisle to. Hyunwoo’s friend, Minhyuk, had so kindly agreed to sing as you walked to your future husband. As he sang The Rest of My Life, you focused on Hyunwoo and tried not to cry. You have never seen a smile so big on his face than you did on this night. It made you smile just as brightly. You couldn’t help but thank your two lucky angels that were at their designated spots to stand beside you as you took each step forward to the happiest chapter of your life. As you continued on your journey down that, what felt like a never ending aisle, it truly felt like it was just you and him in the world at that moment. Nothing else mattered, but trying to reach him. You weren’t lying about wanting to run to him when you texted him, but you had to keep that cursed pace to the music.

As Minhyuk ended the chorus, you finally reached Hyunwoo. He took your hand in his and as you looked up at his smiling face, you noticed a stray tear on his cheek. You smiled up at him as you wiped it off his cheek with your thumb, your own tears threatening to spill over, but you willed them back in their places.

The ceremony began with the blowing of the conch by the wedding officiant…you are in Hawaii, after all.

20 minutes to go as time continued to count down…

The officiant continued with his opening speech and then a reading of the excerpt from Plato’s Symposium, the myth and theory of love and soulmates that you’ve always held dear.

10 minutes to go…

You and Hyunwoo then exchanged your vows and “I do”s to be forever faithful, to be each other’s support, to be a constant friend, and to always love each other through the good and bad.

5 more minutes…

You both then exchanged wedding bands engraved on the inside with your special date.

3 more minutes…

The officiant then began his closing remarks of well wishes to the newlyweds and as he looked at his watch, he signaled the guests of the 1 minute mark.

Guests then readied themselves with the supplied confetti poppers. Kihyun and Hoseok made their way to their wives and children, holding them close as they anticipated the seconds. You looked up at Hyunwoo, tears of happiness now spilling from your eyes as he smiled back down at you.

“By the power vested in me,” your officiant stated.

“10 - 9 - 8 - 7…” your family and friends all chanted simultaneously in the background.

“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the officiant concluded.

“6 - 5 - 4 - 3 - 2…” the countdown continued.

“You may now kiss the bride!” he announced.

“1!” everybody screamed and yelled and cheered and set off the poppers.

Hyunwoo took you in his arms and kissed you right at the stroke of midnight memorializing the start of the new year as husband and wife. All those around you shared kisses with their partners and loved ones, but you were oblivious to it. The world around you disappeared from view and it was just you and him as you wrapped your arms around his neck as he continued to kiss you and pulled him in closer. And just like the many New Year’s Eve kisses of the past that you shared with him, the fateful zing was ever so present.

[jovialyouthmusic]

Uneasy Lies the Head

Followup to Charlotte’s Choice, a Royal Romance AU Fanfic

9 Crisis in Cordonia

Will Drake escape his captors? How is Charlotte coping with his disappearance?

Charlotte wept and stormed but no trace of Drake was to be found. There was footage from the car park of him being bundled into the boot of a car, but it was found abandoned close to the border of France where there was no webcam footage to see where he might have gone. Kiara had apparently followed him to the car, only to have been abducted herself. She was discovered at the border of Cordonia with a message from Anton’s men that Drake was being held captive. They demanded Anton’s release, and there was nothing Charlotte could do. Her heart went out to Savannah, and she promised to stand by her if news of her unfortunate past came out to the press.

Savannah was inconsolable to have been reunited with her brother, only for him to vanish, and Bastien was devastated, blaming himself.

‘Your Majesty, I didn’t warn him never to go anywhere alone. I didn’t consider there to be any threat to him – or to any of our party. It was unforgivable of me.’ He turned to Kiara, her face tear stained.

‘Non, monsieur Lykel, it was my fault. If only I had not sent him to the car to fetch my bag…’ she broke into fresh tears ‘Your Majesty, how can you forgive me?’ Charlotte patted her arm

‘Don’t cry Kiara, it’s not your fault’ she said softly ‘It seems your friend Pascalle was sympathetic to Anton and had taken advantage when you contacted him.’ Kiara sobbed again.

‘But your Majesty – if I had never contacted him…’ she grew incoherent. Hana spoke to her, her arm around her shoulders

‘Shhh Kiara, there are so many ‘what if’s. You suffered too – you must have been terrified, you poor thing’ Kiara nodded

‘Oiu, I was so scared. And poor Monsieur Walker…’ Charlotte couldn’t take any more, and left the room, running to her suite to throw herself down on the bed and sob her heart out. She heard someone enter the room, and Hana came to sit next to her. She managed to calm down and stop, sitting up, and Hana held her tenderly.

‘Charlotte’ she said quietly ‘All is not lost’ Charlotte reached for a tissue to blow her nose and wipe her eyes.

‘Wh - what do you mean Hana?’ she sniffled

‘It’s all an act – Kiara’s not telling the truth’ she said

‘What? How do you know?’ she asked in amazement.

‘Call it instinct – I know Kiara, and I’ve been trained to read body language and in various interrogation techniques. She knows more than she’s letting on, I’m sure of it’

‘Oh Hana – do you think we can find Drake? I can’t bear it’ Hana looked thoughtful

‘We will have to tread carefully – but I’ll play the innocent and see what I can get out of her. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll interrogate her properly’

Olivia waited at the airport for Brad’s flight. He had gone back to England to see to his new found property – a grand house in the English countryside that had deteriorated through misuse, but revenue from other property that he now owned provided enough money to renovate it. He had set things in motion, and as he had promised to return for the wedding, he made his way back to Cordonia. It wasn’t until he landed that he discovered that Drake had gone missing, and his return to the palace was a sombre affair. Hana had been true to her word and was spending some time with Kiara, apparently chattering about inconsequential things to help her to recover from her ordeal, but in reality she was gaining her confidence and preparing to find out just how she was involved in Drake’s disappearance.

Charlotte was withdrawn and depressed, not sure of what to do or where to turn. She withdrew to her suite and Bastien and her friends grouped together to discuss what could be done. Hana had talked to the guard about her suspicions, and they scrutinised the security footage taken in the car park at Monte Carlo, showing it to the others – to Olivia, Brad, Savannah and Maxwell.

‘If you look here, you can see Kiara talking to one of the men who supposedly abducted her. Drake was treated roughly, overpowered as soon as he left the lift and knocked out once he was in the boot of the car. Lady Kiara seems much more relaxed, though she does a good job of acting surprised, and she enters the car more or less willingly rather than being bundled in. I have arranged for the authorities in Monaco to tell us as much as they can about the car that was used. It seems to have been hired by Kiara’s contact Pascalle, who she claims was mastermind to the kidnap and sympathetic to Anton.’ Brad nodded and Olivia scowled. Savannah was tearful, unhappy to discover that her supposed friend had betrayed both her and her brother. She begged to be allowed to go to her room and avoid her for as long as she could.

‘That snake Kiara – you should hand her over to me, she’ll soon talk once I get her into the dungeons at Lythikos Castle’ Brad put his hand on her arm.

‘Careful Livvy, we need to try and get her to trust Hana first, see if she gives something away before we do anything more drastic’ Olivia made a huffing noise, and Bastien cleared his throat and continued.

‘I have asked my contacts to track down the other two men in the video footage, though they wore hooded tops so that won’t be easy. They are also looking into any other vehicles Pascalle had access to and tracking them down, checking all the border crossings to see if he left in another.’

‘Can they track the men back to where they came from?’ asked Brad, and the guard nodded.

‘Well thought out, de Montfort. You’d make a good detective’ Brad opened his mouth to speak, and Olivia groaned.

‘Please Brad, spare us the story of how you read Sherlock Holmes as a boy and set up a detective club at school’ Brad shrugged.

‘Inspector Rebus, actually’ he sad shortly, and Olivia sighed heavily.

‘Despite appearances, we’re in a strong position.’ Bastien went on ‘Kiara doesn’t suspect we know she’s part of all this. There are strong indications that she’s in league with the kidnappers and Anton. We need to keep her under surveillance and see if she lets something slip. I’ll ask Charlotte to invite her to stay at the Palace – she won’t be able to refuse and she’ll be easy to watch. I want the three of you to treat her as if she’s the victim she pretends to be.’ He turned to Olivia ‘If you find that too difficult, I suggest you go back to Lythikos and leave us to investigate.’ Olivia huffed again

‘I suppose I can treat her with civility’ she said reluctantly ‘If I remind myself that she’ll pay for her deceit when we find Drake’

That night, Charlotte came down for dinner, and picked at her food. Under instruction from Bastien, she invited Kiara to stay, and as predicted, she agreed. When the meal was over, the Queen went back to her suite. When Kiara had gone to her room for the night, Hana reported to Bastien in his room.

‘She’s definitely hiding something ‘ she said ‘She knows where Drake is, I’m sure. Just give me some time and I’ll find out. Oh, and here’s her phone details, we can tap into any calls she makes’ The Royal Guard had the latest equipment for monitoring calls and text messages – all that was needed was the relevant phone number and ISP.

‘You’re an accomplished agent, Hana’ Bastien said ‘It’s a pleasure to work with you’ She smiled

‘That’s a huge compliment coming from you’ she said ‘And I want to do my very best for Charlotte and Drake’

‘I’ll let you know if she makes any calls or texts’ he said ‘I’ll monitor her phone myself’ Hana left to go to bed, and Bastien set up his equipment and settled into his easy chair, closing his eyes to take a nap, hopefully to sleep deeply. However, only a few minutes had passed before an alert came in, and he popped in his earpiece to listen in. It was a brief call.

‘Hello Pascalle’ came Kiara’s voice

‘This had better be urgent, we might be monitored’

‘Impossible, they don’t suspect a thing’

‘Go ahead then’

‘I’m staying at the palace, the Queen invited me so I couldn’t turn her down. How is our guest?’

‘Noisy – at least until I informed him he wouldn’t be heard’

‘Good, let him waste his energy. Take care of him, we need him alive – for now.’ The line went dead just before Bastien got a solid lock on the location of the person she was calling – but he already had enough material to incriminate Kiara if they wanted to take the option of confronting her. Further, he didn’t know the exact location of the recipient, but he knew that he was within the borders of Cordonia. Another call and he would know exactly where. He smiled with satisfaction, and got ready for bed.

Charlotte woke again to a cold empty space beside her, and she willed herself not to cry. She had to trust that Bastien and Hana would find Drake. However, she couldn’t face seeing anyone that morning and didn’t feel like eating so she went to the window to stare out toward the stables.

‘Race you to the middle!’ Charlotte had only known Drake for a few months, but after Olivia had gone home to Lythikos, they became firm friends. They were allowed to play in the formal gardens as long as there was someone nearby to keep watch over them. However, like all children they were mischievous and often gave their guardians the slip. That day Drake had wheedled a good supply of chocolate from the cook and they had run off to explore the maze.

Although Charlotte had of course lived at the Palace all her life, she had always been cautious of the maze. Her mother had designed it and although it was still growing, it was tall enough for the two children not to be able to see over the top. She was scared of getting lost, but didn’t like to tell Drake and be called a sissy. It was easy to see where they were going, as a tall oak tree stood at the centre, but getting out again was not as easy.

Deeper and deeper they ran into the maze, the hedge appearing dark and impenetrable to the young princess. She lost sight of Drake and could only hear him laughing, his feet scuffing over the grass as he ran. She couldn’t work out which way to go, and stopped to work it all out. She couldn’t hear Drake any more, and she felt panic rising in her chest. She kept moving ahead, her heart pounding in her ears.

‘Drake? Drake, where are you?’ she called out, stopping still to listen ‘I can’t hear you’ All was silent and the tall dark hedges closed in around her. Tears started to her eyes. ‘This – this isn’t funny’ she said in a small voice. She started toward the tree again when suddenly, Drake jumped out of the hedge.

‘Boo! Gotcha Charlotte’ he cried, but as he saw her frightened face his expression changed ‘Are you alright Princess?’ he asked, and she fought back the tears, suddenly angry with him. If she had known the way out, she would have stormed off - but she was frightened and didn’t want to be alone. She stepped toward him and hit him in the chest with her palms, shoving him.

‘You’re mean!’ she shouted ‘You scared me’ but Drake saw through her anger, saw the fear in her eyes and took the blow, staggering back into the hedge. His tone softened as it did when playing with his baby sister.

‘I’m sorry - we’re close to the middle – see?’ he pointed to the tree ‘Race you there - come on, we can have the  chocolate when we get there’  Charlotte pulled herself and set off. Drake ran behind her, pretending to stumble so she got there first.

‘I win’ she said ‘See, girls are just as good as boys’ He grinned, glad to have cheered her up. There was a bench at the bottom of the tree, and they sat side by side, legs swinging, and shared out the chocolate. Charlotte felt much better with Drake there, and the chocolate did its magic.

‘I’ve never got to the middle before’ she said, and he looked at her wide eyed.

‘Really? I’ve been here at least five times’

‘I get lost every time’ she confessed, and he grinned.

‘There’s a secret to it’ he said ‘you just keep your left hand on the hedge and follow it round, and to get out, it’s your other hand. Charlotte looked at her hands doubtfully, not entirely sure which was left and which was right, but she said nothing. ‘Let’s climb the tree, and we can see it all’ Drake said. He knew she was partial to climbing trees despite being told it wasn’t seemly for a Princess, and eagerly the two of them climbed up into the canopy. She didn’t care that her clothes got dirty, or that her top snagged and tore.

The view from the top was breathtaking, and Charlotte could clearly see the way out. Suddenly it didn’t seem as scary, and she smiled, seeing the staff out looking for them and calling their names.

‘Let’s stay up here and finish the chocolate’ she said, and Drake grinned back at her. She wasn’t the little goody goody he first thought she was – she liked running and climbing trees and she liked horses and chocolate, and giving the grown ups the slip - and he thought she might possibly like him too...

Charlotte hugged herself at the memory and gathered herself together. The demand from Anton’s men to release him in exchange for Drake had shaken her to the core. As a woman, she wanted to comply and would have done it without question – but as Queen she could not let the country fall into Anton’s hands. The wedding plans had been put on hold and there was little official paperwork to look over, so Charlotte decided to go out for a ride. Bastien insisted that she not go alone, so she chose to go with Olivia.

At the stables, Charlotte stopped at Sultan’s stall, rubbing his nose and speaking gently

‘You don’t understand do you boy? Why he’s not here’ The tears pricked at her eyes, and the stallion whickered and nudged her hand ‘I miss him so – if he doesn’t come back I don’t know what I’ll do’ Olivia appeared at her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

‘Want me to ride Sultan? He needs the exercise.’ She asked. Normally Charlotte would say no to anyone else riding Sultan save one of the more experienced stable hands, but she knew Olivia could handle the stallion, and she found the creature oddly comforting despite Drake’s absence. Perhaps he had a little of Drake in him, she told herself.

‘Of course Livvy, you’re a good rider. He can be a little headstrong but I’m sure you of all people can handle him.’ Olivia patted the horse’s flank.

‘Oh he’s a pussycat, I’ve definitely ridden worse’ she replied, and the horse turned to nuzzle her hand. Charlotte looked on in amazement.

‘He’s definitely taken to you Livvy, he’s not normally so gentle with strangers’

‘Oh, he understands that I’m boss’ she said, grinning widely.

The two friends saddled up and set off. Once they were clear of the stables they cantered on, Charlotte leading, and slowly built up speed until they were at full gallop. Normally Charlotte found it freeing and cleansing, but there was something missing today, and her heart ached. Faster and faster she rode, feeling the fresh air whipping past her, the muscles of the horse bunching underneath her, her feet pressed into the stirrups so she rode free of the saddle. She heard Olivia shouting at her, and she turned to see what was the matter, slowing a little.

Suddenly Phoenix faltered, and her rhythm broke. Charlotte clung on to the reins but she was thrown off the horse, letting go when she realised what was happening. Luckily  she fell cleanly without being tangled in the stirrups. She thudded to the ground and rolled clear, but just as she thought she was safe, she rolled into the trunk of a tree and the shocked Olivia saw her strike her head and pass out.

Bastien and Hana were interrupted by a panicked call from Olivia, and Lewis, as the most experienced of the King’s Guard in emergency first aid, went out on a quad bike. The Queen was unconscious but appeared not to have broken any bones. The air ambulance came quickly and airlifted her to hospital. It was impossible to hide the news from the press, but Bastien kept tight control on the news that was released, making a statement that the Queen had taken a minor fall and was being checked for injuries. In reality, Charlotte remained unconscious and unresponsive, though from the reaction of her pupils, it seemed there was no brain damage.

All was confusion at the Palace. As Charlotte was sole monarch and Drake was not only missing, but would not even be considered to take control as he was not officially Consort had he been there, the question was how power was to be wielded. The Council was called to an emergency meeting and after long discussion, Olivia was declared as temporary head of the Council and allowed to make minor decisions in lieu of Charlotte, but most matters had to be voted on before being authorised. Members of the Council were assigned rooms at the Palace in order to be on hand for any emergencies. Bastien was of course given free rein in the matter of tracking down Drake, and Hana went to the hospital to talk to the doctor in charge of her case.

‘There’s no reason why her Majesty is still not conscious’ he said ‘There is no obvious injury to her brain, just a little bruising where she hit her head. It’s as if she doesn’t want to wake up, which is understandable under the circumstances. It would be useful to have someone close on hand round the clock, talking to her, playing music she might like in the hope that she effectively wakes up. Can you organise that Ms Lee?’

‘Of course, I’ll get onto that as soon as I can’ She made her way back and spoke to the others, setting up a rota. Olivia took first shift as she still felt guilty that she hadn’t stopped Charlotte from riding so hard. Luckily Phoenix wasn’t injured and she had led the mare back to the stables before the air ambulance arrived so they wouldn’t be spooked by the noise.

Two days went past with little progress in the matter and Charlotte remaining in the same condition. Bastien at last got news from Monaco that a car belonging to Pascalle had crossed the border into Cordonia not long after the other car had been abandoned, but after that the trail went cold. Kiara had not made or received a call from him or anyone else but he remained on alert for that. The two men who had attacked Drake had turned up on a list of known sympathisers of Anton’s but nothing was known of their whereabouts. Hana had little time to spend with Kiara but did what she could.

That night, finally Bastien got an alert that Kiara was making an outgoing call.

‘Pascalle? What’s our position? How is our guest?’

‘He’s quiet, and Anton’s men are getting restless. They’re insisting that they take custody of him’

‘Really? Have they said when?’

‘They’ll be coming for him tomorrow and pushing for the exchange to take place whilst the Queen is out of commission. What’s the real deal? Why isn’t she communicating?’

‘Mon ami, she is in a coma.’

‘Interesting. So we should try and get things moving as soon as we can’

‘Mais oui, I will continue to play the victim, sway them toward the exchange’ Bastien smiled grimly – now he knew exactly where the call was coming from, but he continued to listen whilst tapping Lewis’s number up on his smartphone.

‘Very well. Call tomorrow and I’ll let you know how the exchange went’ The line went dead, and Bastien swung into action.

@ao719 @agent-bossypants @andy-loves-corgis @sleepwalkingelite @boneandfur @blackcatkita @brightpinkpeppercorn @choicescommunity @darley1101 @drakewalkerrosenberg @debramcg1106 @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @goirishsunshine @gardeningourmet @livingthroughchoices @likethetailofacomet @mrs-nazario @mind-reader1 @ooo-barff-ooo@silviasutton1989 @speedyoperarascalparty @zaffrenotes @missevabean @mrsdrakewalkerblog @cora-nova @missameliep @tanelle83 @endlessly-searching-for-you @jlouise88 @drakenazario @tabithacarlisle @furiousherringoperatortoad @notoriouscs @classylady1234 @wickedgypsymoon @carabeth @choices-fangirl @indiana-jr @indiacater@noey718-blog @katedrakeohd @bobasheebaby @annekebbphotography @kennaxval @sirbeepsalot @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @aworldoffandoms @iplaydrake @drakesensworld @drakewalkerisreal @samcpossum @melodyofgraves @khakie4 @museofbooks @be-still-my-aching-heart

[ghostbustermelanieking]

reconsideration

s6 vignette: the beginning, triangle, dreamland, the rain king, tithonus, one son, arcadia, milagro, the unnatural, field trip. part of my series that i write as i rewatch the x files

summary: Times Mulder and Scully reconsidered the status of their relationship.

note: I realize this is, like, the thinnest premise ever, but season 6 UST is some of the best UST. This story most directly links up to Flights and Renegade (and leads into Auld Acquaintance), but it does contain part of the Tithonus scene from The Fountain. (It is not necessary to read any of these works to understand this story, as they can all technically stand alone.)

i.

She’s been wondering about the kiss.

In the days between their mad escape from Antarctica and their flight back to DC from Australia, she’d been considering the encounter in the hallway. The things she said, the things he said. How close they came to kissing. Some culmination five years deep. The sudden pain in her neck, the way she’d dodged it even though she hadn’t meant to. And then everything that had happened after, blurring together into a horrifying montage. The paramedics, the gunshot. The pain and the cold, the freezing cold. Mulder’s mouth on hers, breathing life into her. He came to Antarctica for her. Antarctica. To the ends of the fucking earth.

Scully is having some trouble wrapping her head around it all, but that doesn’t change what happened. That he saved her, that he said she saved him, made him a whole person. That he tried to kiss her—even if it was only to make her stay, he still wanted to kiss her. Wants to kiss her. And she wanted to kiss him, she has realized. She wants to kiss him back.

She hugs him in the hospital when he gives her the cross back and she leans against his shoulder in the airport like it’s effortless. She faces down the Office of Professional Review back in DC for him, for their X-Files. She meets him at the reflecting pool, tries to reassure him that they can bring down the people who did this, and he tries to push her away in return. He tells her that she was right to want to leave, that he is not going to watch her die. Almost the opposite of what he said in the hallway. He tried to make her stay because he cares about her, and now he is pushing her away because he cares about her. Because he is scared.

She doesn’t know how she would’ve reacted if he’d said these things when she wanted to quit, but she knows how she will react now. He pushes and she pushes back. He was right before, about wanting to quit with a clear conscience, but she can’t do that, there’s too much left to fight for. She takes his hand and repeats his earlier words back to him: “If I quit now, they win.” It’s some sort of reassurance—reassuring him that she isn’t leaving, or maybe reassuring herself that she wouldn’t have left in the first place. She squeezes his hand. She thinks that maybe something can happen between them now. She thinks maybe it’s time.

And then everything goes to hell.

She can’t find what Mulder wants her to find, what he wanted to show OPR. Or rather, what she finds is not what he wanted to hear. They really should have discussed everything before the meeting itself. Mulder is clearly upset with her, and things only escalate when they don’t get the X-Files back. Instead, Jeffrey Spender and Diana Fowley are assigned to it. Scully doesn’t even have time to process it, to maybe have a bit of contempt for the woman who is apparently Mulder’s ex swooping in and taking their jobs from them, because Mulder is too busy feeling betrayed himself. Skinner has led him to a file, some attack in Arizona, and by some paradox, he manages to convince her to go. She doesn’t know what she’s thinking—maybe that they can find more proof, more reason to go back on the X-Files. But Mulder’s theories at the crime scene don’t make sense, even if the evidence doesn’t fit with the crime report.

He is upset with her, at the scene, angry that she is doing exactly what he said has kept him honest, has saved him, and she doesn’t understand it. She tries to understand, takes his hand and repeats his earlier words back to him. “You told me that my science kept you honest. That it made you question your assumptions. That by it, I’d made you a whole person,” she says, trying to remind him. What he’d said was why she’d stayed. “If I change now… it wouldn’t be right, or honest.”

He doesn’t listen. He waxes some poetic bullshit about extraterrestrial life, says, “I’m sorry, Scully, but this time your science is wrong,” before he walks away from her, leaving her blinking in astonishment. Maybe a little hurt. She stayed because he said he needed her. But this is one of the times that she thinks he would like it better if she just wasn’t here to debunk his theories. In this brief moment of chest-stinging hurt, everything Mulder said in that hallway feels like a taunt.

It gets worse. It actually gets worse. They find Gibson half-dead in their car. She convinces Mulder that they need to protect him, but the next thing she knows, Diana Fowley is popping up and dragging Mulder off to chase some lead, leaving her behind to protect the boy. Which she can’t do, apparently; Gibson disappears from the hospital she takes him to. Supposedly, he shows up at wherever Mulder and Fowley went off to, locked in a room with what Mulder claims killed those people in Arizona. He doesn’t reappear.

After it’s all over, Mulder is still unwilling to forgive and forget. He says some biting things that cut her to the core, credits Fowley over her, makes some allusions to Diana not refusing to believe things because of science.

Scully clenches her jaw and plunges on, although she’s not entirely sure why. She reminds him that she doesn’t doubt him, that it comes down to a matter of trust. She asks him to trust her. He has said before that she is the only one he trusts. Maybe she wants that faith back. Maybe she wants him to acknowledge how much he claims to need her. One in five billion, making him a whole person. What else is she supposed to think?

If he is willing to forget what happened in that hallway, then she can forget it, too.

ii.

He is in love with Dana Scully, and he wants to tell her how he feels.

He might be an official time traveler who’s high off his ass on painkillers, but goddamnit, he is in love with her. He has been in love with her for months, years. He wanted to tell her over the summer but he was scared; he thought that if he pushed her away, she would leave and be safe from the X-Files forever. And then he’d been an asshole to her, really fucked it up. But it’s been good since then. Good. They do background checks and manure checks, drive the country like they always have and Mulder books them haunted hotels, passes her glossy brochures over the center console of the car that announce urban legends he can sometimes convince her to chase off hours. They eat together in diners, eat lunch in the break room or go out sometimes in a cliquish way that makes the other bullpen agents whisper. They see each other on the weekend, sometimes, when Mulder isn’t chasing ghosts or ghouls. They spent Halloween looking for demons in a cornfield, and Scully had nearly bent in half laughing at him when it turned out to be kids in crudely-made masks. God, he loves her. He loves her and he wants to tell her.

He can find her anywhere, he proved that today. He found her in 1939. She was beautiful in that wine-colored dress, her hair all curled and her eyes icy the way they get when she is absolutely done with his nonsense. It wasn’t really her, but she was brave and confident and faced down Nazis like it was nothing. She saved the world and he kissed her because he thought he’d never see her again. He deserved that punch. But he is in love with his partner—his partner who is right here beside him. He loves her and he wants to tell her.

“Hey, Scully?” he says as she starts to walk away, rising up on one elbow.

She comes back, standing close so that they are almost nose to nose. “Yes?” she says, very serious.

He looks deeply into her eyes, trying to tell her everything he wants to tell her without even having to speak. When she’s this close, he could kiss her again. Or for the first time. “I love you,” he says, very sincere. He wants her to know.

She rolls her eyes, mutters, “Oh, brother,” and stalks off. And that is the end of that.

Still, he isn’t sorry that he told her. The side of his face stings when he puts it down on the pillow, from where 1939 Scully socked him, and he smiles dopily to himself. She knows, and he will tell her as many times as it takes to make her understand how he feels. How much he cares about her.

He grins at the ceiling. He is in love with his partner. He is in love.

iii.

They fly to Nevada against orders, to investigate some lead an informant gave Mulder. The airport is a couple hours out from their destination, so they rent a car and drive together into the desert. In Area 51, the only thing that is waiting for them is a slew of Men in Black or whatever, who stop them in the middle of the road. There is a confrontation. A light passes over them, and Scully is left blinking, her mind foggy. How much time has passed? She is holding Mulder’s hand.

“Come on, Mulder,” she says, unnerved. “Let’s go.”

—

They don’t talk a lot as they drive away, stirring up red dust behind them. Scully rests her head on the window pane, his fingers tapping the dashboard​. Mulder is quiet, his jaw working back and forth as he stares out at the road ahead. “What happened out there, Scully?” he asks finally.

It was a brief, meaningless​ encounter, completely unmemorable, but it feels like something more and she can’t explain it. She shrugs. “We got stopped. Found nothing,” she says. “What else is new?”

Mulder nods, chewing his lower lip. They pass a diner, the lights startlingly blue. “You hungry?” he offers.

The diner is packed to the brim, something Scully isn’t entirely used to; they usually frequent half-empty shitty places in the middle of the night. There is a family sitting across from them, three kids jammed in one booth, shoving at each other. Scully remembers that she said something about raising families, having something approaching a normal life, on the drive up. It seems like something she said days ago for some reason; she blinks in sleepy confusion. Mulder smudges fingerprints on the glossy menu, waving it at her. He orders her drink for her, exactly the way she likes it. She thinks that sometimes they may be able to read each other’s minds.

“Sorry I dragged you out here for nothing, Scully,” Mulder says after the waiter takes their meal orders and leaves.

Scully pokes at the sugar holder. A baby squeals somewhere across the diner, a couple argues at the counter. The Nevada sky has so much more stars than back in DC. “That’s okay,” she says, more agreeable than she would’ve expected of herself. “Better than background checks.”

Mulder smiles, his teeth too white under the fluorescent lights. She has some faint memory of saying goodbye to him, of sunflower seeds slipping into her palm and through her fingers, clammy from Mulder’s hand, but she has no idea where it came from, because she knows that never happen. Maybe it’s because Mulder has been eating them since the airport. She wonders if his fingers would taste like salt, and then blushes on instinct.

“It’s too bad that lead never panned out, though,” says Mulder, a little regretful, maybe a little bitter, leaving starburst fingerprints in the condensation on the side of his glass. “This was a waste of time.” He snorts out a bitter laugh. “An entire day’s waste of time.”

Scully shrugs, her coat loose around her shoulders. She is unusually jovial, happy to be with him. “It’s like you said, Mulder. This is a normal life.”

Mulder smiles again, almost involuntary. She smiles, too. She steals fries off of his plate when their food comes and he makes a gremlin face at her and she giggles. She has an odd feeling of longing that she can’t explain, and she doesn’t bother to try. They’re in a diner in Nevada, off the clock. Who the hell cares?

Mulder takes a shift driving after they eat, and Scully curls into a ball in her seat and falls asleep. She has some strange dream of standing opposite Mulder in the desert. There are seeds, like the one in that strange non-memory in the diner, and she tells him, I’d kiss you if you weren’t so damn ugly. Well, she notes when she wakes up, the sentiment isn’t entirely off. But still. What the hell is that about?

iv.

They’ve slept in the same bed before, but never quite like this.

Scully can tick off every time they’ve shared a bed. The awkward time in the first year of their partnership where she’d set a token pillow between them and slept on the edge of the mattress (but Mulder sprawls in his sleep, so he’d ended up drooling on her shoulder in the morning, the pillow stuck under his belly). The case in ‘96 where her feet had snuck over on his side every single night. The times she’d fallen asleep in Mulder’s hotel room or he’d fallen asleep in hers. But every time had been different then this somehow, she thinks.

She’d woken up this morning with Mulder’s face half-buried in her neck, an arm thrown over her ribcage, his fingers hot against her side where her shirt had ridden up. His stubble rubbing her neck as he muttered things in his sleep. She had counted to ten in her head. Twenty. And rolled away. His hand had slid over her stomach in a long trail; he snorted and buried his face in the pillow. Scully had shivered, curling into herself on the edge of the bed. And now they are in bed again. He is asleep and she is not and he’s jammed up against her in bed, nose against her upper arm and knees pressing into her leg. Their fingers tangled together on the mattress. Scully stares at the ceiling, ignoring the tickling sensation of Mulder’s breath against her skin. Or trying to.

Sheila was surprised that she isn’t with Mulder. Which apparently the entire town of Kroner can join her in. The missus. Boyfriend. Holman had bid Mulder farewell by saying, “You should try it sometime,” looking at the two of them like he expected something out of them. She supposes her big “relationships-spurning-from-friendship” speech to Sheila didn’t help their Kroner reputation. She doesn’t know why she cares.

Mulder is too warm, jammed up against her with his raspy breathing and the blankets tangled around them. She should move away. She doesn’t know why she doesn’t move away. She told herself that she wasn’t going to do this last summer, after everything with Diana Fowley, after he tried to kiss her and never brought it up. For a little while last fall, in Nevada, she thought she might, but she’d relegated herself, insisted that they are friends and friends only. And despite whatever lover’s pacts some ghosts tried to force them into, despite her falling asleep on his couch at six a.m. on Christmas morning, she has been able to push back the thoughts in her mind of taking their relationship a step further. But now…

Mulder mumbles something in his sleep—something that sounds like the lyrics to Islands in the Stream, which played on repeat at the reunion when one of the speakers glitched—and presses his nose harder against her shoulder. Scully shivers. We are just friends, she tells herself sternly. He’s my best friend. That’s it. That’s all. But Mulder tugs at her hand in his sleep, rolling over so that he lands almost on top of her, and she almost loses her resolve, shivers. She didn’t know it was so cold in Kansas. Or that her partner is a furnace. She shifts in her sleep, cold feet brushing against his feet and trying to wiggle out from under him a bit. Mulder stirs, lifting his head from her shoulder and blinking groggily. “Scully?” he mutters, tugging at her hand before he realizes that he’s holding it and lets it drop. “Oh, jeez, I’m on top of you,” he says, scooting backwards so he’s on the other side of the mattress. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says quietly. She hasn’t moved.

Mulder flops over on his stomach, still half-asleep. “We’ll be home tomorrow,” he mumbles into his pillow.

“Yeah,” says Scully. His hair is sticking up on one side; she resists the urge to pet it down. She turns on her side and closes her eyes, determined to get some sleep tonight. But her words to Sheila are still bouncing around in her head. You know, one day you look at the person and you see something more than you did the night before, she’d said. And the person who was just a friend is… suddenly the only person you can ever imagine yourself with.

She wakes up in the morning with her face pressed up against Mulder’s shoulder. She tells herself sternly that it means nothing. She knows she is lying.

v.

When she wakes up in the hospital, Mulder is there. He’s leaning over her hospital bed with his hands in his head. He looks tired, haggard, as if he’s been there for days. Scully has a groggy, overwhelming affection for him, and though she cannot speak, she reaches for him. He looks up, sees her hand moving, and his entire face lights up. “Scully,” he says, engulfing her hand in both of his. “You’re awake.”

She looks up at him, tiredly tries to tell him everything that she is thinking with only her eyes.

Mulder laughs a little, squeezing her fingers. He is practically grinning with relief. “I-I’ll go get your doctor,” he says, standing from his spot next to the bed. Before he puts her hand down, he leans over and kisses her knuckles, and she feels it from head to toe. “You’re gonna be okay,” he says before he leaves. Scully smiles a little to herself. She can’t believe he’s here.

Mulder is there when she wakes up and Mulder continues to be there, through every awkward moment with her mother and brother (both of whom Scully is incredibly relieved to see), through every talk with the doctor, through nearly every moment Scully is conscious for the next two days. She is immensely grateful. She’d missed him. She loves him, she thinks rebelliously to herself one day. She loves him and is so incredibly happy to still be here to tell him so. All those doubts flickering in her mind, leftover from last summer, are gone now. She is ready.

There is a brief moment where she is uncertain, wondering whether or not Fellig was right about immortality, right about love not lasting forever, but she talks herself out of it. She is being ridiculous. People don’t live forever. Life is too short, actually, and she has plenty of proof of that right before her.

Mulder thumb-wrestles her over the blankets tucked around her body, kisses her cheek in farewell every time he leaves. He flies back down to DC with her when she is finally discharged, cracking peanuts between his teeth like makeshift sunflower seeds and trying to distract her with in-flight movies. He visits her frequently in the evenings while she is on medical leave, calls in the middle of the day to complain about Kersh and background checks and the embarrassment of being stuck in the bullpen. He is her best friend and she is in love with him; there was more truth to the things she told Sheila than she thought. She keeps looking for moments to tell him, but keeps coming up short. She doesn’t know how to say it. (They’re both awful at expressing their feelings; is she just supposed to sit him down and say, “Mulder, almost dying has made me realize I’m in love with you?” What about, “So, about that one time you almost kissed me and we never talked about it…?” All utterly ridiculous.) But the time will come. She is confident that the time will come. These things have a way of happening with them.

Later, after the entire ordeal at El Rico Air Force Base, she will attribute the entire thing to what Fellig told her in his apartment. Fear of eternity staring her in the face, loneliness. Vulnerability after almost dying. But she cannot really be in love with him, she tells herself. She cannot.

vi.

He can’t explain why trusting Diana is so important to him.

He is not in love with her. Not anymore. And when he was, it was never as house-on-fire fierce as the way he cares for Scully. But something in him cannot let go of their relationship. Their years together. She remains the only woman he has ever proposed to. The longest relationship he’s ever had. She was there when he discovered the files. He cannot let that go, for some reason. He just can’t.

He doesn’t know why he is so stingingly hurt when Scully is sharp to her in quarantine, because he is done with her romantically and has been for years. She broke his heart. But something in his stomach curdles in annoyance when Scully keeps snapping at her, acts like she’s the enemy. He chides her a little when she gets petty towards Diana, because a part of him is protesting, She isn’t working against me, Scully. She knows how important this is. She left me because the work is important. And he doesn’t know that Scully would go that far for him, for the work. It’s a horrible comparison to make, but it’s true.

The Gunmen turn against her, too. Scully calls him to their apartment, just so she can present all the reasons why Diana is untrustworthy, and Mulder’s annoyance continues to grow. You wouldn’t be saying this if you knew everything she’s done for me, he wants to say to her. What she meant to me, once.

He tells her she is reaching. He tells her she has given him no reason not to trust Diana. He tells her that she is making things personal, and he senses he has gone too far. It’s been personal since Day One, with them. He’d like to take it back almost as soon as he says it, but Scully storms out and Mulder is too annoyed with her to follow her. But Frohike’s glare and the way Byers and Langly avoid his eyes speak volumes.

Embarrassed and maybe a little guilty, he slinks off to find out the truth about Diana, just to prove that he is right. He finds the smoker at her apartment, who offers him a way out. A way to save himself from what’s coming. Himself, he thinks, and Scully, and maybe even Diana. If they can really avoid death on Earth, he and Scully, then it would be wrong to leave behind the woman who is partially the reason he has gotten this far.

Diana comes home and reaffirms her loyalty to him. He tells her how they need to survive and she kisses him. It is a brief kiss, and his mind is buzzing too much to process it all, but he wraps his arms around her on instinct.

—

After it’s all over, he’s overwhelmed with guilt.

He doesn’t go to the air force base because he is chasing a lead with Scully, and he is relieved that they don’t because the entire thing goes up in flames. Diana doesn’t reappear in the immediate days after. Jeffrey Spender gets them back on the X-Files, and then his blood is found staining their office. Scully won’t return his calls.

The guilt is thick in his stomach over the possibility of Diana’s death, the encounter in her apartment. What he perceived as a betrayal of Scully. They may not be together, but he is in love with her. He told her he loves her and he meant it with everything in him. And now, and now. He has hurt her to the point of nearly no communication between them. He has kissed another woman he is not in love with. He has ruined it all.

Diana calls a few days after the entire ordeal, reassuring him that she is alive, and he is relieved. Truly relieved. Maybe some feelings do linger for her, but not in the sense of wanting to actually be with her. It’s mostly nostalgia from his old relationship, mostly loyalty. He’s happy she’s alive. But he’s in love with Scully and he’s pushed her too far away.

He wishes he knew how to make this right.

vii.

She almost resigns after it’s all over.

She gets drunk one night, furious and raving against Mulder, and types up a resignation letter, prints it out and even signs it. She leaves it on the dinner table, determined to give it to Skinner in the morning. She is done with the FBI, the way they’ve scorned her and thrown her out. She is done with the X-Files, tired of the way they beat her up and leave her frustrated and embarrassed when she is proven wrong. She is done with Mulder.

In the morning, she chickens out. It seems ridiculous in the daylight, with the sun shining unevenly across her pillow and her pounding hangover headache. She did hang on this long to resign. Personal interest is all she has, and she can’t give up for her sister or her daughter or herself. And even Mulder. She still cares for Mulder by instinct, knee-jerk reaction.

But there is not going to be a relationship between them now. Not a chance.

In the process of rebuilding their office, reorganizing everything, Scully works quietly, talks as little as possible. The resignation letter stays on her table, like a glaring spotlight. Reminding her of the way she felt when she thought she was leaving. She goes back and forth on it a few times in the weeks following El Rico. She almost changes her mind the day after Diana drops by the office to congratulate Mulder on getting the X-Files back. Mulder almost dies twice. The second time, she is haunted by nightmares of him dying in her arms, gunshot wound to the chest. It breaks her. She can’t resign, she can’t leave him anymore than she could last summer. She has tried, and it doesn’t work. She has not hung on this long, through dead family members and abductions and cancer, to quit because Mulder hurt her feelings. She cares about him, and it is more than a knee-jerk reaction. She isn’t going to resign. She throws the letter out.

But her stance on a relationship between them stays the same. He is her partner, her friend, but nothing more.

xiii.

The Petries has a nice ring to it. Mulder picked the name because of all the Dick Van Dyke Show reruns they’d watched together while Scully was recovering from her gunshot wound. Scully rolled her eyes and smiled a little at the floor when he told her, but sobered up quick. Told him that they had to pronounce it like the dish.

There has been a definite distance between them lately. A distance that only comes down after one of them almost dies. He wishes he knew how to fix this.

Being able to call Scully his wife, though. Being able to put his arm around her and ham it up in front of all the citizens of Arcadia Falls. He kind of likes it—which is unexpected, because he never associated Scully and marriage in his mind until now. He hasn’t been very keen on marriage ever since Diana mailed his ring back, broke off their engagement that had crumbled to nothing at that point. But he could get used to this, coexisting with Scully in a house, their house, sharing a bedroom and eating dinner together. (Maybe without the dorky planned community, though.)

They end up cooking dinner together because neither of them can agree on who should be the one to cook. They’re both terrible at it. Scully rolls up the sleeves of her cute little soccer mom sweater and huffs angrily when she burns the chicken. Mulder abandons the potatoes and pulls out one of the salad kits that Scully had insisted the Bureau buy them. (They’d made a grocery list together, for God’s sake; he loves this case.)

“You liking married life, Scully?” he asks her at the dinner table, after they manage to construct a decent salad.

She snorts a little, stabbing lettuce with her fork. The windows are open, to air out the kitchen from where the chicken was burned, and they are speaking quietly in an attempt not to blow their cover. “Truly blissful, Mulder,” she says dryly. “The honeymoon never ends.”

Mulder chuckles, a little awkwardly, looking down at his plate. “Did you ever daydream about your wedding as a kid, Scully?” he asks.

“Oh, sure, when I was younger.” She drums her finger against the table. “But the daydreams kind of faded in high school, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” says Mulder knowingly.

Scully is still staring at her plate. “I thought I’d get married in my twenties, actually,” she says in a stilted rush, almost like she had to talk herself into saying it.

Mulder’s fork drops from his hand; he was not expecting that. “Really?” he asks in a neutral tone. “What happened?”

Scully shrugs. “I joined the FBI. Broke it off when I saw the full implications of the relationship. I was young, and I thought I was in love. But it would have been a mistake.”

He’d never known that about her. He nods. Scully scrapes her fork through the salad dressing, lifts her chin to meet his eyes. “What about you, Mulder?” she says, and her voice is very serious, like she understands what the answer will be. “Any previous run-ins with marriage?”

He swallows uncertainly. “Diana and I were engaged,” he says carefully. “She broke it off.”

Scully nods, her face neutral. She says just as carefully, “She must have meant a lot to you.”

“She did,” Mulder says. “At one point, she did.”

She holds his gaze for a moment before looking away. Mulder lifts a glass of water to his mouth and gulps a mouthful. It’s too cool sliding down his throat.

He wants to fix this more than anything. He wants Scully to understand why he did what he did, what she means to him. He just wishes he knew how.

ix.

Agent Scully is already in love, Padgett had said, looking straight at him as if he was supposed to have any idea at all what he was talking about. Who Scully could be in love with. If Padgett is even right at all, if he even knows her. Mulder knows that he doesn’t, that he couldn’t possibly know anything about her.

It is stupid to be jealous of him, this creepy little man who has been stalking her for years now. He is not jealous as much as he is furious, wants to shout at him, tear him apart for what he has done to Scully. Padgett does not know her, not the way he does. He is presumptuous, a little voyeuristic shit who thinks he knows and loves a woman because he’s followed her around for a while. He doesn’t know Scully and he is likely a murderer and Mulder wants him gone, wants to make sure he never gets near Scully again.

Agent Scully is already in love. It can’t be true, because Padgett does not know her. Not like he does, not at all. And Mulder doesn’t know who it is that she could possibly be in love with. How he could have missed it. Or if it’s the yearning possibility, the off chance that she might be in love with him…

No. Padgett does not know her. He is lying, playing some new angle. Mulder throws himself into the case, into trying to catch Padgett. It isn’t true, he tells himself. Scully isn’t in love with him. Believing that weasel is the most egotistical thing he could do.

It isn’t until Scully is clinging to him as she sobs hysterically, blood smeared up and down her front, fingers digging desperately into his shoulders, that he considers that it might be true.

x.

His breath on the back of her neck, his nose in her hair, and his arms wrapped all the way around her as they move together, the bat whooshing through the air. Scully giggles helplessly, more delighted than she’s been in months. She feels like she’s in high school again, her heart racing to the point where she’s sure Mulder can hear how nervous she is. How excited.

It’s spring, not very cold at all, but Mulder’s arms are warm around her, the length of her spine pressed to his chest and stomach. Her shoes that are not at all suited for baseball scuff the red dirt. Her feet almost slip out from under her with one swing of the bat, and Mulder’s arms tighten around her, lifting her almost off of her feet as he tries to keep her from falling. Scully belly-laughs, leaning her head back as the bat wavers in her hands. Mulder stumbles backwards under her weight, lowering her to the ground. “I got you,” he huffs, exhausted from holding her up.

Scully lets the bat droop, tapping the dirty ground with its edge. “Yeah,” she says, breathless. She thinks of the latest, unhappy time he had his arms around her like this, while she fell apart on his floor. She thinks of the first moment of arriving at the park, realizing what he meant when he’d said, “Get over here, Scully.” The shivery feeling she’d gotten when he pressed up against her. His lips brush the back of her neck—whether it is on accident or on purpose, she can’t tell, but it makes her think his mouth against hers. The possibilities.

She smiles, leaning back into his chest. “Yeah, you got me.”

xi.

Things are better between them, he thinks. They have been, they are. Less steely silences, less tense conversations. Scully smiles at him now, even bursts into laughter on occasion the way she did on that one golden Saturday. “We should work on the weekend more often,” he’d said the Monday after, a little suggestively, and Scully had smirked back at him just as suggestively. Surprised him so much it almost bowled him over. He loves it.

Things are better between them, their partnership starting to get back to normal, and Mulder is starting to consider the possibility of their friendship finally starting to shift into new territory. (Hey, it only took them a year.) He doesn’t know when or if it will ever happen (although the suggestiveness between them both would suggest that it will), but either way, he’s just grateful to have Scully back. Her friendship, her partnership.

They fuck it up, of course. There is a case in North Carolina, and he presents his theory of UFOs, and she dismisses it, maybe even jokes a little bit about it. And it annoys him, for some reason. “Sounds like crap when you say it,” he says, working his jaw back and forth, wondering why she can never believe him, just once. “I’m just wondering if there’s a connection, Scully,” he adds, defending the theory. “I mean, the conditions of these bodies are reminiscent of certain southwestern cattle mutilations. Those are cases where there’s no physical evidence and they’ve long been associated with UFO activity.”

She replies like she doesn’t know him at all, “Mulder, can’t you just for once, just… for the novelty of it come up with the simplest explanation, the most logical one, instead of automatically jumping to UFOs or Bigfoot or…?”

Irritated, he stands and says, “Scully, in six years, how… how often have I been wrong?” She scoffs. He says, “No, seriously.  I mean, every time I bring you a case we go through this perfunctory dance. You tell me I’m not being scientifically rigorous and that I’m off my nut, and then in the end who turns out to be right like 98.9% of the time?” She looks a little hurt now. She says nothing. “I just think I’ve… earned the benefit of the doubt here,” he says, and walks away before either of them can say anything else, because he doesn’t know why this is bothering him this much. He doesn’t know what else he expected.

— As difficult and as frustrating as it’s been sometimes, your goddamned strict rationalism and science have saved me a thousand times over, he’d said in that hallway. Maybe it’s stupid to keep referencing back to something he said a year ago, something he said to manipulate her into staying. But the sincerely behind it had felt real. Everything that has happened between them lately has felt sincere. And once again, Scully doesn’t know what to think

xii.

He knows it isn’t real as soon as she admits that she is wrong. She knows it isn’t real when everyone tells her she is right, again and again. She never really believed she’d lost him anyway.

Their minds meld together through the mushroom hallucinatory haze. They come together, just like always. That is what they do.

Skinner pulls them out of the ground and puts them in the ambulance together. They reach for each other at the same time, Scully searching blindly. She opens her eyes to look at him when he takes her hand. She doesn’t take her eyes off him. They keep looking at each other until they’re unloaded at the hospital.  

She misses him at the hospital, through the haze of drugs and pain. She sleeps on and off for a few days, bandages scratchy against her skin, dreams strange and vivid. She’s cold. She is tired of doubting this—their partnership, how well they work together, whether or not they can never be in a relationship. The only reason they survived was because they’d realized what was happening. That something was wrong. The way that they balance each other out, it’s unmistakable. She misses him.

A few nights after the whole ordeal is over with, she slips out of bed and pads down the hall to his room. He’s awake, staring out the window absently when she steps inside. He turns towards her, startled, and his eyes soften at the sight of her. “You okay?” he rasps.

She nods, stepping closer to the bed. “Couldn’t sleep,” she rasps.

He scoots closer to the inside of the bed, shoulder pressed to the wall. She climbs in beside him, their arms pressed together. He tucks the blankets around them both, brushes some hair off of her face before settling back against the pillow. She takes his hand.

“I’m sorry, Scully,” he rasps.

She shakes her head, intending to tell him to save his voice, but he keeps going. “I shouldn’t have… acted like you were being unreasonable. You… I need you. I need your science, and I need you.”

He squeezes her fingers. She closes her eyes, snuggling into the blankets, reminds herself that he is not dead. She is tired of doubting, of lying to herself. They’re both high off their asses on painkillers, but this time, she believes him. “I need you, too,” she whispers, letting her head fall on his shoulder. “I do. I do.”

He kisses the top of her head. She hums raspily, letting her eyes slip closed.She does need him, she knows now. They need each other.

[jdmainman123]

The accident may be how funny this is 5800 years after yachtfish to report to some failed f****** father who wants to take all the blame

Something that he couldn't create. It almost seems like he had a taste of power like maybe a free drink or taking off his underwear or a finger and p****

BUT IF IF THIS IS FUNNY TO YOU PEOPLE THE WAY IT ENDS IT'S VERY FUNNY TO ME THE ONLY PROBLEM IS YOUR IMMATURE AND JEALOUS SATELLITE OH

I know exactly what this dead n***** daughter famous they want to take my my phone away and kick me out of the airport so I continue talking but this is not Fort Worth and I will avoid the train from now on and just stop at stop at a gas station

Last thing I want to do is be on a train with your dad f****** daughter black hair white son and his f****** failed homosexual buddy

AND AGAIN I'M NOT HERE TO ENTERTAIN THIS F****** RETARDED F****** DAUGHTER WITH THE FIRST TIME F****** JOB.

About most importantly IF THIS IS FUNNY AND AND THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FRIEND THEY SAID THE DATA BREACH KILLED YOUR FAMILY. And I said well maybe they shouldn't have involved Las vegas. That was just my first assumption. Yacht fish here

You guys can't claim my beats holds up your sunlight Las vegas. You have to say my beach is underwear we buried your daughter you f****** coward

For this to all and about the satellite blaming black man at first I was in disbelief and then I was released I was free as a bird but for it to have picked up and for me to find out just to blame Las Vegas another f****** name THAT SENDS ONLY BLACK SKIN MEN INTO ANY AND EVERY CITY.

May Atlanta show you people no mercy here may Washington Beach so you people no mercy here simply because if yacht fish is here laughing at it you boys need to stop crying so much and I went satellite making would allow you guys to stop crying so much

MAYBE BECAUSE I I TOOK IT VERY WELL AND LISTEN IF YOU FELL BEHIND IN OUR COWARD IN A WEAK F****** BOY WAS AFRAID TO DIE. THEN IT'S GOING TO BE FUNNY WATCHING YOU IT'S GOING TO BE HILARIOUS

But more importantly for you guys to blame black after all this time I already saw where I called it but the problem is

THE THE UNSCIENCE THE NO SCIENCE THAT WE ARE LISTENING TO AND WATCHING ONE MAN THINKING HE'S BETTER THAN ANOTHER MAN

Is going to be the joke after this is all said and done and one girl will see the one man after this is all said and done and a second man will disappear THERE IT IS I THINK YOU'RE JUST TALKING S*** ABOUT THE BOYS AGAIN

All of them

AND FORGIVE ME AND FORGET ME BOYS AND GIRLS IF I CAN'T READ WHAT I'M WRITING STILL. IT SEEMS I'VE FALLEN INTO A CITY THAT'S WILLING TO STICK UP FOR ANOTHER CITY THAT FAILED SOCIALLY. An example if I'm talking to that dead daughter stinky p****. Maybe she should try out one of these tiny dick boys

[numinousmysteries]

Vanquish by Wisdom Hellish Wiles (3/9)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 On AO3 @fictober @today-in-fic

Chapter 3

Mulder's first instinct was that William must be nearby. Back when he was exposed to the rubbing from the artifact that washed up on the Ivory Coast, he’d experienced the same sensation Scully had described—that someone was speaking to him from within his own head--but it had only been people in a close vicinity.

There were images from those days right before his impromptu brain surgery that had stuck with him nearly two decades later. When Scully had come to see him in the hospital he'd felt the immense force of her love for him and her fierce desire to protect him. It felt different from the emotion emanating from Diana, which was tainted by an instinct for self-preservation.

He'd felt the same way about her for years but always feared that the feeling wasn't mutual. As he lay on an operating table unable to speak or move, her warm tears fell on his face and any doubt he had about her affection toward him vanished. It's what gave him the courage to tell her she was his touchstone and, although it took a few more months, to finally kiss her.

Achieving the high school fantasy of being able to read your crush's mind was one of the very few perks of being at the center of a global conspiracy. If his sister had never disappeared, he never would have joined the bureau nor met and fell in love with Scully. If his abnormal brain activity hadn't allowed him to read her thoughts he'd probably never have worked up the balls to do something about it. He asked Scully once why she'd named their son for his father and not her own. She said it was because if his father hadn't done the things he'd done, no matter how morally questionable those actions were, they wouldn't be together and William would never have been born. He understood the sentiment but he didn't know if he could ever forgive him father for the cowardly choices that had torn their family apart.

It was also then when he saw the boy building sand castles on the beach. At first he thought the boy was the manifestation of his inner child’s frustration of never being able to save his sister. But the boy didn’t look exactly like he did at that age. His features were softer and his eyes were a bright blue he’d only seen on one other person before. It wasn’t until Mulder held his son for the first time that he realized the boy on the beach was William. More than a year before he was born, months before he was conceived, back when the very idea of a son of his and Scully’s was an impossibility, he’d seen his son and felt his thoughts in his head.

During the years since he’d last seen his son, he’d tried to conjure the memory of being able to connect with him psychically, if only to know that he was safe and still alive. He tried techniques to induce lucid dreaming and even dabbled with self-hypnosis, but he was never able to make the connection again. But now Scully could, and although he couldn’t explain why, he knew that William was in trouble and they had to find him.

If what Scully felt was right, he had to believe that their son would make the right choice and not be tempted by whatever beautiful lies the other side was offering him.

******************************************

After Scully assured him she was alright in the hospital, Mulder headed back to their office. On the drive over he knew who he’d have to call. He hadn't been in contact with the Gunmen for more than a decade since their deaths were staged. It was their plan all along. In a series of heavily encoded emails before their disappearance, they'd reached out to him about the attempts made on William's life. They'd figured out a way to monitor certain channels where the existing members of the syndicate still communicated, but to ensure their access wouldn't be detected, they had to go deep underground. Beforehand, they had showed Mulder how to navigate a messaging service on the deep web through which he could reach them through a series of encrypted IP addresses, but it was only for life-or-death, the-planet-is-at-stake emergencies. He figured this qualified.

Back at the office he followed the instructions he'd memorized and typed, in the code they’d crafted years ago: NEED HELP. ASAP.

He didn’t know what to expect after sending the message. Would they see it right away? Was it being sent from server to server getting further encoded and secured? Would they even be able to help him?

He sat dumbfounded with his head in his hands. The worst part of all of this was feeling helpless. He was better at handling disasters when there was some piece of evidence to be found or someone to point a gun at and demand answers from. He'd be willing to do anything to find William, but he didn’t even know where to start. In one way or another, Mulder had felt helpless for the past 15 years. He couldn't keep William safe nor could he erase the pain and guilt Scully felt for giving him away. Instead he retreated inward and, when Scully finally walked out, he knew there was nothing he could do to stop her.

Suddenly a notification popped up on his computer. In the reply to his message was simply a link, written in nonsense characters. As soon as he clicked the link, his phone began to vibrate on the table. A FaceTime request from a hidden number. He accepted and saw Langley on the other end. If the end of the world wasn’t imminent he’d tease his old friend for still managing to look so young while his own visage was marked with wrinkles and hair graying on his temples.

“Long time no see, old friend,” Langley greeted him. But he wasn’t smiling either. “I’m assuming you know it’s starting?”

“Colonization? The alien virus? Is that what’s starting?”

“We’re hearing chatter on certain channels. Byers and Frohike are furiously digging in right now trying to get more info. But all we know right now is that something big is afoot.”

“And William?”

“Mulder, I’m sorry—“

“What? What happened to him?” He shouted at the phone.

“We have every reason to believe he’s alive. They seem to think he’s more valuable to them that way. But he was taken from his adopted home early yesterday. We would have reached out to you if we could, but we’re doing all we can to find out where they took him.”

“Who took him?”

“The same bastards who are trying to save themselves at the expense of all of us. I wish I had more to tell you," said a familiar voice just out of view.

The image on Mulder’s cell phone screen shifted suddenly and he found himself looking at Frohike’s disgruntled face.

“We started gathering information as soon as we could," Frohike started. “I don’t know how helpful this is, but we found an address.” He recited a South Carolina address that Mulder hastily jotted down.

“Is that where William is?”

“I don’t know. But it seems like there’s some sort of meeting about to go down there. And if what we’re hearing is true, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone who knew what happened to him is there. Shit, man. You know we were doing everything we could to keep an eye on him. But something happened this yesterday and all of our lines of communication were jammed. When we got back online today we realized he’d been reported missing. Supposedly never showed up at school yesterday and didn't come back home all night."

“I understand,” Mulder said. He knew it wasn’t their fault. If anything, the blame laid with himself for leaving his fledgling family nearly nearly sixteen years ago. Now he ached, too, for the other set of parents who were missing their son because of him. “I’m going to head down there now. You’ll be able to reach me if you get any news?”

“Yeah, Mulder, we got your info when you reached out to us. How did you know, anyway?”

“I didn’t,” he said. “Scully felt he was in trouble.”

“She felt it? Like mother’s intuition?”

“I’m scared it’s something a little more powerful than that. Call me as soon as you hear anything.”

“Of course. Be safe out there, man.”

He was already out of the elevator on the ground floor when his cell phone rang again.

“Mulder.”

“Mulder, it’s me. Where are you?”

“I’m following what’s either a very promising lead or going on a wild goose chase to somewhere in Spartanburg, South Carolina.”

“South Carolina?”

“I got an address from the gunmen. I don’t know if William will be there but if there’s any chance, I have to go now. I’m headed to the airport now to get the next flight down there.”

“Come pick me up on the way.”

“Are you being discharged? Did they say you’re alright to leave?”

“I’m checking myself out, Mulder. We have to find our son.”

******************************************

She was waiting for him when he pulls up in front of the hospital. She looked nearly back to normal in her black pantsuit but on closer inspection he saw blood splattered on her white blouse and a sizable bump under the bruise on her forehead.

“How’s the noggin, doc?” he said as she slowly eased herself into the passenger seat. She cringed and he realized she must’ve gotten more banged up in the crash than she'd thought.

“I’m fine. It’s so strange though, I remember getting in my car to go to work, and then having that vision, and then nothing until waking up in the emergency room. I don’t even know if there was another car involved or what happened.”

“That is strange, Scully. But if William is somehow reaching out to you through psychic ability, it wouldn’t be unusual for you to experience missing time or lapses in memory. I don’t know how any of it works, but when I was experiencing it I remember time seemed to bend and contract in ways that didn’t make sense. And there were stretches of time I can’t account for.”

“None of this makes sense, Mulder.”

“I know. But if he did reach out to you, we have to go on every lead we have to try to find him.”

“We'll find him,” she said. “I know we will.”

He felt her small, warm hand on his thigh and he looked down at in surprise as she gave him a reassuring squeeze. He covered her hand with his and they interlocked fingers. He didn't know if it was just meant to comfort him, or comfort her, or if she was trying to tell him she forgave him for acting like an asshole for the better part of the past year. He didn't question it, just held her hand tightly all the way to the airport.

Their hands found each other’s again during the flight and she leaned her head on his shoulder. He turned and gently kissed the crown of her head right above the bruise and she didn't pull away. They had spent hundreds of flights like this before, her dozing on his shoulder, but this time neither of them could sleep. They just clung to each other and counted down the minutes until landing.

They followed the directions of the rental car's GPS away from the airport and down narrower and narrower roads until they were driving on a gravelly path with long stretches of nothingness between driveways.

"You're sure this is right?" Scully asked. It was such a familiar question, one that he'd heard dozens of time whenever they were on the back roads of Anytown, USA, chasing down a lizard monster or a demonic high schooler. They used to rely on AAA maps that Scully opened up from their origami folds and spread across the dashboard trying to find their location on the veins and capillaries crisscrossing the map. Now they had the calm if robotic female voice of the navigation system leading the way. He preferred the spectacle of Scully trying to navigate on a map that was longer than she was tall.

"Well, it's certainly taking us to this address, wherever it is," he said. They squeezed hands on the console as they followed the electronic map.

Your destination is on the left

Mulder stopped the car the left side of the road but there didn't see to be any house or driveway.

"Look," Scully pointed, "Up there, it looks like there's a turn-off."

He drove slowly forward and sure enough there was a clearing farther down between the thick elm trees framing the road. The driveway, if it could be considered one, was narrow and branches scraped up against the side of the car. After about a quarter mile the path opened up to a clearing with an inconspicuous white clapboard house. Tires were tossed in a pile of weeds in front of the house and clothing were draped over the railing of the small deck.

"I guess this is it," he said. If he were to imagine a location for the most powerful men in the world to meet and discuss the fate of humankind, this small rundown home wouldn't top the list. But the address matched the one he'd been given by the gunmen so it was all they had to go on.

"Let's check it out," he said.

"Right behind you, partner." He glanced back and smiled at her wishing they were just going to interview a citizen who witnessed strange lights in the sky, and not possibly about to see their son for the first time in sixteen years.

"Oh, Mulder!"

Mulder spun around and saw Scully crouching over the car in pain with her hands on the sides of her head.

"Scully! What's wrong? Is it your head, from the accident?"

"Ah," she gasped and he came to wrap himself around her. "Yes. No. I don't know. I think I can hear him again. And I hear--oh god--that noise!"

It must be the same high-pitched, ear splitting sound that he had heard in the presence of the imprint from the African ship.

"Let's get you back in the car."

He opened the passenger side door and helped her back into the seat.

"Shut the door!" she shouted and he did, running over to enter again on the driver's side.

"This is better," she said. "He's close, Mulder, I can feel it. But I can't go in there, you have to go alone."

"I can't leave you here."

"You have to--you saw what happened to me outside."

"You seem better now, do you want to try again?"

"No, it'll be worse the closer I get. Just go."

He didn't want to leave her alone in the car but from what he remembered about the same crushing head pain and excruciating noise, he knew she wouldn't be able to go in with him.

"Be safe," she said before he stepped out of the car and shut the door.

The front door was unlocked so he entered slowly with his gun drawn. The interior of the house felt more spacious than it looked from the outside. He stepped slowly through the entrance way and into what looks like a study, with hardwood floors and bookshelves lining the walls. The sound of a deep exhalation startled him and he spun around to aim his gun at an older, heavy-set man sitting in a leather chair.

"Mr. Mulder," the man said. "I've been expecting you."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Someone you can trust."

"I've heard that before," Mulder said with his gun still directed straight at the man's head.

"Please, put that down," the man said. "You must trust me. I'm on your side. I want the same thing you and your partner do."

"I doubt that. We want to save humanity, you want to see blood on the streets, the extermination of 7 billion people."

"No, you've got it all wrong. There's only one man left who wants to carry out that plot. The rest of us, the few who remain, we want to stop him before he puts the plan in motion leaving only himself and his cronies to rule over a zombie race of people infected with the alien virus."

"Who? Who is this man?" Mulder shouted.

"The only man vile enough to sacrifice the entire human species for a taste of ultimate power. It's your father, Mr. Mulder."

"CGB Spender? The smoking man? That's impossible, he was killed sixteen years ago in the desert of New Mexico."

"Men like him don't die, Mr. Mulder. He's sold his humanity years ago in exchange for alien technology that gives him capability beyond what you and I could dream of. You're the only one who can stop him. Kill him before he kills us all."

"Why me? How can I stop him?" Mulder asked more gently but didn't lower his gun.

"Because you can find the one thing he needs to set his plan in motion."

"My son."

"He needs the boy, Mr. Mulder"

"My son is none of your business," Mulder shouted again, feeling his anger at this man and for the injustice of it all.

"He's a very special child"

"He's a child. That's all he is. He doesn't deserve to be dragged into this."

"A child with exceptional abnormalities in his DNA. He can thank you and your partner for that. He has the power to save humanity or, if your father gets to him first, to destroy it."

Mulder shook his head. "My son was taken from his home earlier today and I have reason to believe you're behind this."

"We tried to take him, Mulder, we tried to take him to protect him but he escaped. I don't know where he is, but it's imperative that you find him before Spender does. Your father will promise his grandson eternal life and a seat alongside him as omnipotent ruler of what's left of this planet in exchange for the genetic material within him that can protect them while the world burns."

"William wouldn't agree to that. He wouldn't take that deal."

"Are you sure about that? When was the last time you saw your son, Mr. Mulder?"

Mulder tried not to think about that day, so many years ago when he was forced to leave the two people he loved most, the only two people he'd take a bullet for without a second thought.

"You're wrong," Mulder said. "He's my son and I know he wouldn't do that. Now where the hell is he?"

"I told you, I don't know. I had my men sent to Wyoming to get him and bring him here, but they were unable to find him. They're out looking for him now but I suspect you and his mother will have a better chance of finding him."

"I swear, if anything happens to him, anything at all, I will personally put a bullet through your brain and find every last one of your henchmen and kill them myself."

"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that, Mr. Mulder."

Mulder shook his head and turned away from the man. When he walked out of the house he saw Scully was motionless in the passenger seat with her eyes closed. He ran to her side and opened the door.

"Scully," he gently shook her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

She didn't flinch or open her eyes. He could see she was still breathing but when he squeezed her hands she showed no response.

"Shit. Scully." Mulder ran around to the driver's side and got into the car. He found the address for the nearest hospital and keyed it into the GPS.

He kept trying to rouse her during the short drive over but she remained slumped over in her seat.

He pulled up directly in front of the emergency room exit and carried her in his arms through the sliding door.

[wordsturnintostories]

5/ Remnants of Time

Masterlist

Chapter 4 | Time |… | Chapter 6

Word Count: 7.920 Song Choice: That Which You Seek Finds You - Zack Hemsey; Teachings of a Ronin - Zack Hemsey Special a/n: the first Song Choice is for the second part; the ; finally things are getting interesting! Make sure to leave a comment :) Thank you, sweetie, for your marvelous translation into Russian, @aoimidzu! :D

Wakanda was a mess. After “a mysterious attacker slaughtered over a dozen of palace guards, a failed attempt at assassinating the king”, how the journalists put it, the conference was cancelled, of course. No one really knew what was going on, if maybe something else would happen, if people would be safe here anymore. Some were transferred to Birnin Djata, but the majority was sent back into their home countries right away. The three Avengers had been placed in the medical ward by royal order, all of them injured from their nightly fight with the intruder. Lomawu had made sure they were all safe and then, flown off with a promise to get this situation figured out. To come back with a name belonging to the intruder. Out of all three of them, Wanda was probably the most affected, not physically, but psychologically. Clint kept an eye on her, guiding her through nightmares like he did with his own children, staying up with her to offer comfort. She was incredibly frustrated she hadn’t been able to protect Barnes and she blamed herself for that more than she should. But no matter how bad he thought was with words, for her, he found the right ones. Soon, regret and shame turned into determination. Cap would be proud, Clint thought when he watched Wanda exercise in the gym. Then, all of the sudden, the simple silence was interrupted by doors slamming into walls and footsteps crashing against the floor. Scott barged into the room, immediately picked up by a red streak of energy and pushed into a wall. “Scott!”, Wanda shrieked and brought him down. “It’s Lomawu!”, Scott whispered. “He’s the Hydra mole!” “Shit. They’re gonna kill Cap”, Clint cursed.

“How do you know that, Scott?”, Wanda yelped as they were running through the compound. Where they were headed - she had no idea. The man that could shrink to the size of an ant had rushed out of the gym and now, he had Wanda and Clint on his tail. He stopped all of the sudden and immediately had Wanda crashing into him. Scott sent quick looks to both sides, he looked very confused, then frowned. “What is it, Scott?” “I still have no idea which hallway we’re on. What!? This palace is huge and every level looks the same!” “Oh God”, Clint mumbled, “not again. For starters, just tell us what you know.” “The ants”, Scott whispered. “We found proof he paid a lot of money to the CIA. For what - no clue. But he did. And you saw the Winter - Buck- Barnes’s file.” “Okay. Let’s go to T’Challa with that. He might be able to do something, at least get us out of here so we can help.” Wanda’s head turned and she sent a look through the big windows lining this hallway. She noticed the unusually busy runways of the royal airport. “Are you coming?”, Clint asked, already standing by the other end of the hallway. She nodded, flowing her two friends, hoping that the king would be able to do something for her friends. They arrived at the palace’s royal quarters after thirty minutes, after having had to wait at least ten minutes at the over-conscientious security control of the Hatut Zeraze. To their surprise, they were urged to wait. The king was busy, in a confidential political meeting right now. Hadn’t all politicians been secured?

“It’s not a secret that I have a past with the CIA, your highness. Against the council’s notion, I could arrange a collaboration and turn this situation to our favor. The CIA in London operates on a lead that points at a yet unknown asset, my king.” He eyed the king, for a reaction revealing what the Black Panther felt about the head of the SIW’s leader and his line of action that had undoubtedly been bold. To go behind the Council’s back had definitely not been a wise decision, but this wasn’t a standard situation either. But T’Challa’s face was unreadable. “Unknown? How is that? No entries in our databases?” “Not a single one. The only trace you could establish would result from putting his name behind all unsolved victims of the past… fifty, maybe sixty years?” “Another Winter Soldier?” Lomawu shook his head, pulling out the modified beads lining his wrist, special high-tech devices every authority in Wakanda was equipped with. Several passwords protected the classified content he stored on there. A hologram was pulled up, containing a file with not just a few, but more than half the standard categories blank, a true testimonial of this asset’s nebulous identity. “If you were looking for the wind, you would not find it in this breeze.” “Agreed, my king. I have information, however, that claims the current mission of the Remnant is to kill Steve Rogers.” “Is that definitive?” “Very. Based on the calculations we applied after the incident surrounding Mr. Barnes in his quarter, based on, well, everything we could collect, the asset is unpredictable. There has been a direct attack on Captain Rogers and Mr. Wilson in Belgium yesterday. To continue engagement in my protocols, I require permission of lethal action on sight, Sir.”

The Black Panther still sat on his throne, unmoving, like the real beasts out in the jungle that could stay in a position for hours. One of his hands was touching his chin and cheek, he was thinking while staring what seemed like a hole into his advisor and subordinate. “Do you not recommend our incarcerating facilities?” “May I quote one of your grandfather’s sayings, your highness? Every fortress has a door. I’m convinced that this asset is enhanced and Hydra holds the leash tight. Forgive me for being blunt, but how many more Wakandan lives are you willing to slaughter for the Americans?”
The king furrowed his brows, gaze steady and his body in an elegant posture. It was a good question, one that he couldn’t afford to have overseen and trampled over. A guard stepped in, bowing his head respectfully. “Mr. Barton, Miss Maximoff and Mr. Lang request an audience, Sir.” “They shall not speak to me today, but my words may reach them still. They are expected to pack their gear and meet at the hangars in two hours.” The guard disappeared right away, honoring all the strict palace protocols. “You have never disappointed me or my father, Lawrence. I trust your judgement. Permission granted. Make sure to prevent any further disaster.” Mr. Lomawu bowed, stepping forward to display the traditional gesture of gratefulness before his king. He took the fine, ornamented spoon from the side of the throne to dip it into the small bowl of the king’s exquisite oil and sprinkled it onto his feet, Immediately, a wonderful, rich scent between the two men, telling tales of childhood and secret places deep within the jungle. After that, he removed himself from the mighty Black Panther’s presence, backwards, like ancient rule prescribed. He had just reached the door when T’Challa raised his voice again. “Oh, and Lawrence? Take the Americans. They shall assist you in your hunt.” Lomawu bowed and left the room. He couldn’t say he was happy about this turn of events, but he didn’t complain. Obstacles were challenges, not stop signs.

It would be easy to convince the three leftover Avengers to join the hunt for the unknown attacker that had freed the Winter Soldier. Also, it had attacked them during the Captain’s absence. Lawrence smiled. Zola had shown him his plan and it was a plan of victory. Pierce had failed, but the Avengers were split. Good conditions for Project Awakening. The loyalty these three remaining Avengers had for Steve Rogers was going to be his fall.

Germany. The Autobahn was a blessing. In just two and a half hours, the silver Audi had covered over 230km and flown by two major cities, each offering hundreds of places to stay. And they had stayed at a tiny little motel to just rest and nurse each other up, to eat and sleep, even despite Natasha’s determinedness to keep their course on Cologne. But now, they’d reached Germany’s Ruhr Area, they’d reached Cologne. “The whole city’s celebrating the Carnival right now. With those masses of people, surveillance is a bitch. We’ll be safe for… well, at least a day.” Steve wasn’t sure if they would stay hidden there for long enough to figure everything out - what Hydra was planning to do and what would happen to Bucky, but they had an important source in their car and Steve swore to himself that he would make this man talk if he denied them information. His mind couldn’t relax, even with the humming of the car and the jazzy music Sam had put on. It went over the conversation from the hotel room over and over again. She’s asking me a question she already knows the answer to and he doesn’t ask the one question he actually wants answered. What did that mean? Of course, Steve hadn’t mentioned Bucky once, keeping his vulnerable spot hidden, but Natasha? What did she ask that she already knew? Steve had supposed the doctor just asked that to create a feeling of uncertainty, that it didn’t mean anything else. That’s how Hydra works, he told himself, even when they know they lost, they still create confusion and chaos everywhere they can.

So, making sure the man who was spread out over his side of the back row was still unconscious, Steve searched for Natasha’s eyes in the rearview mirror. She was quiet, too quiet, hadn’t even complained about Sam’s music once by now. What was she thinking about? What if she knew much more than she pretended to - no. Steve didn’t want to believe that Natasha was pretending anything right now. She’d shared all the relevant information with them - right? Then, all of the sudden, he remembered how much time Nat actually spent at the Hydra building. The video hadn’t been that long. And she still hadn’t explained why she didn’t make it out on time. The little bag that was placed in the foot room of the back row caught his attention. She’d kept the file about Bucky in there. He remembered how for a moment, he thought he’d seen brown paper in there. Brown like a manila file. Was there a second file? About Bucky? Slowly, he bent down, grabbing the bag. Natasha didn’t notice, she kept her eyes on the street. Steve’s fingers brushed against hard paper and when he pulled it out, his eyes went wide. It was a file. It wasn’t thick, just like Bucky’s, but it wasn’t about the Winter Soldier. Red letters, all Russian, covered the front and when he opened the file, there was no photo, just text. He knew a few Russian words Nat had taught him, enough to decipher “Hydra property” and “assassin”. His eyes went wide. What was this? Then, there was one entry on the bottom that made him wonder what was actually going on. It was in English and dated. “Recent status: Instructions enforced”. Just then, the paper made a sound and Sam turned around. “Where did you get that?”, he asked, clearly confused as Bucky’s file was safe in the glove compartment. “Maybe you should ask Natasha that”, Steve replied and Sam’s eyes shot to Nat immediately. Her face pulled into a frown. “That’s none of your business.” “Oh yeah, it is. If this is what you compromised our trip to Paris for, I wanna know what I’m holding right now.” Sam wasn’t sure when he’d heard Steve so full of authority the last time, but it definitely took him back to when they infiltrated the Shield headquarters. He was glad he was sitting in the front of the car right now. “I agree”, he stated. “I’m not risking my ass for just any secrets.” Natasha clenched her teeth. She’d wanted to keep this confidential, not making the two men feel like she’d used them for her own goals. Although she had, maybe just a little. “Those are files about a Hydra asset I’ve tried to locate since a few years - without success. That one is untraceable. But I believe it was him who stole Stark’s tech a month ago.” “I can’t believe you just - wait. What happened to Tony’s tech?” Steve’s face went from mad to worried. Why hadn’t he heard of this? No matter how big the break-up of the Avengers had been, this was a big deal for Tony. Damn it. That idiot was way too proud to ask for help. Steve rolled his eyes. “As if you missed that too. The SIW must’ve kept you out of everything.” “Nat, what do you know?”, Steve was impatient. If she didn’t have a good explanation for this… well, he didn’t know what to do, but he would be deeply disappointed. Natasha hesitated, it was obvious she insisted on keeping the intel to herself, but with the pointed look Steve shot at her, she complied. “Okay, so Tony was working on some tech that was gonna help Rhodes walk. You know that he’s still paralyzed. The device was supposed to send electric impulses from the brain to Rhodes’ legs so he could overcome his body’s disability. It was almost finished, then someone stole it, leaving no traces. As soon as I heard of it, I went over, looking for leads.” “Tony asked you for help? I can’t imagine he wasn’t pissed at you after your stunt at Leipzig.” “Oh no. He didn’t even know I was there. I found a mark I remembered from Russia, way back, when I was trained in the Red Room.” Sam furrowed his brows while he Steve noticed how tight Nat was gripping the steering wheel. It must be incredibly hard to share all of that, he thought. This was personal stuff, after all. Behind the windshield, the autobahn disappeared and rows of city houses came into view. “Check the file”, Natasha continued. “The asset is called-” “The Remnant”, the doctor finished. Sam jumped; no one had noticed the doctor had regained consciousness. “And there’s not a mission the Remnant failed.” “What’s his mission now?”, Steve pressed. The grin the doctor gave him annoyed every single cell in his body, but he didn’t act on it. Not yet. “Well, it’s almost over already. The Winter Soldier is back out there and you’re not going to escape Hydra this time. You should know, the Remnant is like the Sergeant, a little more compliant, luckily. A real animal, aggressive if kept hungry. There’s no getting away, there has never been. Once you’re a target, you can choose your tombstone.” “We’ll see about that”, Steve replied. “I liked him better when he was sleeping”, Sam mumbled.

Natasha steered the car deeper into the city, proving she’d been right. Thousands of people were on the streets, celebrating Carnival, all dressed up and throwing around candy. Everything was colorful and loud and suddenly, the four of them were only crouching through the streets. Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to come here. Sure, they wouldn’t be spotted here, but a getting out of the city quickly? Not possible. Sam opened the roof’s window, shrugging when Natasha shot him a worried look. “Maybe we’ll catch some candy.” Steve still wasn’t satisfied with the information they’d received. He figured it was logical the mole in Wakanda had supplied Hydra with the information of Sam and his’ departure. It was all planned, somehow. He still eyed the doctor very suspiciously. He hadn’t told them everything. “What else do you know? How do you know the Remnant?” “Barnes wasn’t my only responsibility, Captain.” Steve felt very uncomfortable. His eyes flitted back and forth from the windows to the doctor, wary of police presence and any signs of danger. He spotted mounted police. “And what are they gonna do to him?” Because whatever it is, I’m not going to let that happen. The doctor stared at him for a long while. “As much as you blame yourself, you never actually had any control over life, Captain. You know that you can’t protect me from their assets, right? If they want me to die, I will. This shot“, he pulled his shoulder forward for display of the nasty wound, “was a promise. I probably won’t make the night.” Sam huffed. “Do you even know who you’re sitting in a car with!? This is a veteran of World War Two. This is Steve Rogers.” Obviously, Sam tried to defend Steve, but the latter just wished Sam hadn’t. “And tell me, Steve Rogers, how did protecting your family work out?” Steve was grim. “I don’t have a family.” There was bitterness in his eyes. “What else do you have on the Remnant? When is he coming for us?” They came up to a red light at an intersection. “Faster than you think. Actually, the Remnant is not-”, something crashed through the window, right before Steve and into the doctor’s head. A bullet. Blood spilled everywhere. Headshot. He was dead right away. Sam yelped, Nat pressed on the gas. Steve’s head shot towards the high buildings. He didn’t see any sniper. Where the heck…? Suddenly, something sunk into Sam’s arm. It was a split second, but Steve saw it. It came through the roof’s window. Sam pulled out a little dart, smearing the blood on his arm. Natasha couldn’t go fast, too many people in the way. “Get out of the car!”, she screamed. Right then, Sam passed out. The dart. Steve gasped. It must’ve been poisoned. He jumped out of the car and pulled his friend out. He needed to get to a hospital right now. Crap, crap, crap. What were they supposed to do? They’d be detained before they could reach the front desk.

Right now, they stood in the middle of the street. They couldn’t stay here, not with a sniper around. But Nat positioned herself behind the car, using it as shield while pulling her handguns out. She shooed a lot of people away, too. “Steve!”, she shouted. “Wash the wound with water!” Steve looked at Sam on the ground. His eyes were closed. Save him. Just when he took the arm in his hands, Sam started to convulse, and, much worse, to choke. Steve wasn’t sure what this poison was, but he poured a whole bottle of water over the wound. He couldn’t actually do much for Sam right now. Nat spotted the sniper quickly, he stood on the roof of a multi-apartment house, already packing his gear. She watched as he moved over the edge, climbing down the balconies with rapid ease. But he hadn’t reached her range yet. Suddenly, there were two mounted police riding towards the same house and Nat let out a breath of relief. “Looks like we’re not the only ones who spotted the sniper“, she said, half-turning to Steve and Sam to see how they were doing. Sam had stopped choking and Steve, an almost- panicked Steve, was performing CPR. A shiver ran down her back. They couldn’t lose Sam. Oh God. She turned back, back to where the attack had come from. The sniper just reached the ground, jumping the last three stories down at once. The police was waiting down there, one of the officers had gotten off his horse, and walked towards the sniper. Shit, this is the guy who freed Barnes. The Remnant. He’ll kill them. The police won’t stand a chance against this asset.

Momentarily paralyzed by the realization of how few options she actually had, Natasha watched the scene before her eyes unfold like a nightmare. The police officers walked right up to the Remnant, but to her surprise, the different parties only exchanged a few words. The police officer took the asset’s long range gun and handed over his horse. With one swift motion, the Remnant sat in the saddle, rifle on the back and knives in his belt. The other police officer threw a semiautomatic at him, then rode off. Shit. The Remnant was maybe 250 meters away from her and with Sam in need of CPR, they couldn’t run. A police car appeared in the street. Backup. They wouldn’t make it out alive either. Suddenly, shots were fired. Horrified, Natasha realized that the Remnant had killed every police officer in the car. The good guys. “We need to get away”, she yelled at Steve, turning around to see him holding Sam in a sitting position. He waved slowly at her. Thank God. Nat could already hear the clattering of hooves against the asphalt and with every second passing, she grew more anxious. Steve stood up, looking at her very seriously. “You two, run. The Carnival is a huge event. There should be ambulances around. Find one, get him out of here.” She nodded, but wondered if Sam could run. He stood up, but she realized immediately how dizzy he was. The horse came closer. Nat handed Steve a gun and a knife. “Kill him”, she warned before hiding under the car with Sam. As soon as the rider had passed them, they crawled out on the other side and leave.

Steve, however, began running immediately. He passed a few houses, following a street, yelling at people to get away, to get into the houses and stay in there. A bridge came up before him, a bridge over a river. He ran onto it despite realizing that the long trail didn’t really offer many hiding spots. Blood rushed through his ears. More shots. Crap. Where do I go? The Remnant must be close already. From the corner of his eye, he saw a post with a little sign on top, picturing a man falling into the water. Probably a warning. Steve needed it, the post, pulled it out of the ground and ran. The doctor’s words rushed through his mind. If they want me to die, I will. No, Steve would not die. Not again. Not today, Steve swore. Too many people needed him. He noticed, though, that the shots sounded different than usually. The attacker used silencers, they didn’t want anyone to notice. A bullet whizzed past his arm and Steve jumped behind the railing that separated the sidewalk from the railroad tracks on the other side of the bridge. Thousands of padlocks hung there, on the metal grating, deflecting bullets for him. He ripped part of his uniform on something sharp, but didn’t get shot. The sniper had reached him by now, the police horse galloping past his position. Steve jumped out just in time to stick the metal rod in his hands out, creating an obstacle for the horse, to knock the rider out of the saddle. But no one was on there. The horse complained loudly, skidding over the rough asphalt. It got back up quickly and ran. At least it shoved people out of the way. But the Remnant was gone. Steve’s head whipped around, eyes narrowing in concentrated anticipation. Where was he?

For a moment, Steve heard only the rushing of the water underneath him and some music from the city parades. The next second, the tiniest gush of wind reached him. In one fluid motion, the asset jumped onto his shoulders, attacking without mercy. He must’ve hidden higher up in the bridge. Steve’s muscles protested against the sudden weight. His hands shot up, came back bleeding. The Remnant pressed against Steve’s windpipe. The rough knuckle gloves dug into his skin, creating marks. He’s gonna choke me. The grip wound tighter and Steve’s throat was on fire. He couldn’t breathe! His hands grabbed the shin of the Remnant. With one fast motion, Steve yanked at it and the grip on his throat loosened. Steve sensed his opportunity and slammed himself against a big pillar. To crush the attacker up there for almost making him suffocate. But the Remnant jumped off at the last moment, rolled over on the asphalt. He was moving way too fast. His quick reflexes had protected him from Steve.

The Remnant wore a muzzle too, like the Winter Soldier, and a dark gray uniform. Something like a stick was on his back, right next to the gun. His face only showed two cold blue eyes. The face’s skin was smudgy; dirt, blood and paint were on there. Steve had never fought anyone radiating aggressiveness like the Remnant. Maybe Batroc. But Batroc moved slower. It made the super soldier wonder what barbaric things Hydra had done to this person. They’d turned him into a thing. An animal. Steve received an elbow into his throat, making him cough, making his back vulnerable. The Remnant kicked him in the back of his knees. He brought Steve to the ground. A knife gleamed over the soldier’s head and to get free, he kicked the asset in the balls. He didn’t get a reaction from him. The asset wasn’t in pain. Without hesitation, he swung around, sending Steve flying onto the rails. Gravel and stones dug into Steve’s body, grazing the skin on his hands with a stinging hotness. He could feel bruises forming almost everywhere. This guy was not as heavy as expected, but incredibly agile and fast. A strong succession of punches followed, both of their knuckles bled at this point. There was no beauty in it. Only pain. Suddenly, the metal on the ground vibrated softly, making an odd sound. The train! The train was coming. Steve jumped up, leaving the rails and tried to move onto the small ledge the Remnant stood on. But the latter kicked him down, not allowing him to get away from the rails. His eyes were so hard, so focused, screaming dominance in this fight. As if that was the default in every fight. Had Steve ever fought someone who resisted that much? Other than Bucky Barnes? Steve tried to climb up the ledge again, but received a hard punch in the face. It split his lip. His tongue felt numb. With one strong pull, Steve slammed the Remnant onto the rails. Something cracked. Probably the Remnant’s arm. The feeling of the break echoed through Steve’s mind, making him shiver when it mixed with the sound. But it was a good sign - no metal limbs. Not another Winter Soldier. But something was off - he knew that since the first punch he’d had to swallow, even before that. This asset was too quiet, his punches too strong. Steve had fought experienced fighters before, the STRIKE unit had given him a taste of it in DC, the Wakandan SIW had shown him their skills. But this one - it was a mix of sly experience and incredible skill. Because it felt like Steve couldn’t get a grip on him, the asset’s blue eyes calculated so much faster than normal soldiers did, he anticipated and reacted aggressively. He resisted against Steve, much like the Winter Soldier had before. The Remnant was an opponent able to hurt Steve. Not only because of his body’s abilities but because he must’ve studied the soldier beforehand. He’d watched him and learned. It made him unpredictable. Steve felt a hue of cold fear crawling up his spine like a ladder. It scared him that Hydra had a second soldier who was familiar with his movements and his body. As if the Remnant had been specifically trained to kill him. Impossible. Right?

Steve remembered the gun Nat had given him. Kill him. He reached for it. It was gone. Nothing in his belt. Where -? He looked up, his eyes narrowing. Steve’s gun was in the hands of the Remnant. He’d stolen it. The doctor hadn’t been exaggerating. The Remnant lunged at the soldier, from the left side, the one that was slightly weaker than the other. Steve gripped the asset at the neck, suddenly holding dark brown braided hair in his hand. Braided? The Remnant was strong, squirming under the super soldier’s iron grip. The asset kicked his shin multiple times and crushed his toes. Steve would be blue and green tomorrow. But he held onto the hair. Nat had supplied him with a knife as well. He didn’t manage to cut the Remnants’ throat, not with that shaking and squirming. Hold still, damn it! All the knife reached was the braids. It was a strange sound when it cut through the hair. Steve shoved him, onto the rails again and down there, the mask of the Remnant fell. It was a terrible déjà-vu, one that even Steve’s nightmares couldn’t have created. He froze instantly, ignoring the vibration of the rail tracks. No. He could feel his heart skip a beat, just like back in DC, when he’d suddenly recognized Bucky in the Winter Soldier. No, please no. The word came out shakier than he intended, but he needed to make sure. Please, no. “Rebecca?”, he breathed, but there was no reaction from the girl. The face, the eyes, and, the hair, brown and now, shoulder-length. She looked just like Bucky. Exactly like him. But she didn’t speak. They must’ve conditioned them to not react to anyone after Bucky talked to me and went rogue. Then, the girl bared her teeth at him, moving into a defensive position. A gush of wind reached him and new adrenaline bolted through his system. The train! As fast as he could, Steve ran and jumped over the grating of the bridge, into the river. The river slammed against him, forcing the air out of his lungs. From down there, he could see the girl - Rebecca? - jumping up easily and climbing up into the green steel construction of the bridge, even with a broken arm, right before the train thundered over the bridge. A chopper appeared in the sky and moved towards the bridge, close enough to have the girl jump. She held onto the helicopter’s landing skids with the one intact hand, her eyes scanning the river underneath. A boat rushed through the water next to Steve and the suction pulled him under, thrashing his tired body against the wall of the ship. The waves were powerful, pulling from below with vicious, greedy arms, but he grabbed onto the front side of the boat and remained there, invisible to Hydra. When he looked back to the bridge, they were gone. Police cars had appeared on the bridge. But she was completely gone. The cold water licked Steve’s wounds until they burned. Now he would just have to find Natasha and Sam. All Steve could feel was nausea. He couldn’t believe it. Rebecca. You never actually had any control over this life, Captain.

The evening was rough. Steve had left the river hours ago, but still felt the cold seeping through his muscles. He hadn’t managed to find Sam and Nat. After realizing how stupid he was for telling Nat to get Sam to a hospital, he had thrown away the city map he’d taken from a small, messy souvenir shop. Everyone would recognize them, after Berlin and especially, after thrashing the airport in Leipzig. Crap, he thought. Nat and Sam could be anywhere. That led him to get another city map, which he unfolded, huffed at and put back into his pockets. While most of the people here remained carefree, running around in costumes and yelling words he didn’t understand, Helau Alaaf, a drunk person with a hideous green wig even complimenting him on his outfit, Steve just stood in front of the over-towering cathedral, shoulders slacked, head hanging and heart low. Steve sighed and after a few more minutes of resignation, he shook his head. Rebecca. It wasn’t her, she had died and Steve had seen her grave and Steve just didn’t know. Bucky had died too. Right? The thought of him buried in an empty coffin. But Rebecca hadn’t even joined the war, how would Zola-? What if they took her for leverage against Bucky? To break him? Steve didn’t want to believe it, but the memory of her face told him otherwise. Sure, there were a few features that were different, that didn’t look entirely like Rebecca’s, but the young woman was her. Undoubtedly. She must’ve grown. Steve scratched his head. Buck had been 26 when he entered the war, Rebecca was five years younger than him, she would still be in her twenties, depending on when Hydra had torn their dirty claws into her. Rebecca, sweet Rebecca. The last time he’d seen her was 1940, she’d been just out of boarding school and returned to Brooklyn to visit. She lived with Grandma Barnes then and made the best casserole Steve had ever eaten, he still remembered the feast that had been. She’d worn Sarah’s old apron. And now, she was ready to kill him, just like her brother.

His eyes flitted over the big plaza before the dome, carefully checking all the rooftops for snipers and all the advantage points for any sign of Hydra. One last look up the stunning architecture of the huge cathedral, a remnant of the past, just like him. He turned around but noticed the police officer standing a few steps behind him. He wasn’t looking his way, but Steve would have to just assume that he was Hydra, or, if not, still looking for him. The soldiers’ eyes fell on the radio that was clipped onto the policeman’s belt. If he’d be able to snatch that away, his chances to find Sam increased by a hundredfold. Surely, the “police“ had spotted Nat and maybe there was a way to get Rebecca’s location. Also, a police radio was a good alarm system. If they followed him, Steve would know. So he reached out, and with a slow, but controlled motion, the radio was out of the belt. The first steps, Steve walked, but then he jogged, to the other side of the cathedral, his heart beating fast. But the radio was his. “That wasn’t very nice”, someone said and Steve turned around, caught in the act, heart beating fast. His knees were bent, his arms ready for the next fight. A girl was staring at him, with an eyebrow raised. Had she seen him? But then he noticed the cane in her hands and how her eyes were closed. Blind. That still didn’t give him any relief. What did she know? How long had she been standing there? “You’re right”, he answered slowly, hoping to get out of this situation as fast as possible. “Aren’t you supposed to beat the bad guys?” If not before, he was definitely struggling with his words now. What did she know? Who else knew? He looked at this girl who couldn’t even see him. “You recognized me.” “Yeah, the police is trying to catch Captain America since hours. That idiot fell into the Rhine. We don’t have any suicide jumpers and only few people are stupid enough to take a bath in that filthy soup people call a river. Your shoes are squeaky.” “Look, kid, I don’t want to get you in trouble. You should get out of here.” She grinned. He wondered how old she was. She looked like fourteen, fifteen. “I’m already in trouble. We all make mistakes, don’t we? But your friends. They’re in the St. Antonius hospital, that’s three kilometres from here.” She actually pointed into a direction, although Steve wasn’t sure if he could trust her directions. "Thanks, kid”, the smile Steve did was a little crooked, but he meant it. “No, thank you for saving us.” However kind-hearted that sounded, it felt like another punch in the gut. Steve didn’t have the heart to crush this girls’ hopes and dreams, so he just whispered his reply to himself. “I haven’t even saved anyone yet”, it sounded pathetic. But this girl, with the stunning hearing range of a blind person, heard better than Steve had hoped, and replied with a kind smile. “But you will. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.” He furrowed his brows, because, well, how could she know how strong he was? “You haven’t even seen me.” I’m a mess. “I don’t need my eyes to see. I know they’re not gonna catch you. Have they ever, really?” She walked off after that, joined by two teenagers who’d just run up the Domplatz stairs. They linked their arms with hers, laughing when she said something funny. One of them took her cane and with her in between them, they guided her over the stairs. Was that what family meant? That your family carried you despite your disabilities? While he got moving, that thought didn’t let go of him. Maybe for once, he wasn’t the one carrying everyone around, maybe this time, he was the blind girl in the middle.

Doors opened, letting in a gush of cold air that swept up the nervousness that the five scientists exhaled in this former hospital room they occupied. Guards entered, mercenaries with enough weapons to bring down an entire police station. Steps echoed in the empty hallway, announcing the presence of three more people. Handcuffs clicked. It took a dozen more nerve-rattling seconds for the people to enter the former medical room, two of them with heavy steps, but the third with steps not audible despite wearing combat boots. The asset’s eyes were on the ground, guard’s hands on her shoulders, restraining her additionally to the obligatory harness on her back that had her wrists chained behind her back and fixated by chains of the collar around her neck. It wasn’t that - the heavy restraints, not even the kevlar- reinforced muzzle in front of the lower half of her face - that took the scientists’ breath away. Especially one of them, a younger staff member who’d worked in this job for only two years, was taken aback with the change in atmosphere the moment the asset had stepped into the room. By the belligerence radiating off this subject, like she understood combat was her purpose and aggressiveness her truest self. And maybe it was. It was an understatement, however, to say that despite all confidentiality, this asset had a reputation. At least in his department, seeing that no one else was allowed to even know she existed.

The asset had taken place in the center of the room, on an examination table. Its surface shimmered silver in the grey gleam of the moon’s light that fell though the windows, but now, drops of blood flew onto it, destroying its former sterility. Following protocol, the room’s lights were turned on slowly, everyone was trying to create a soft increase of light. The young scientist nervously checked the sheet of paper on his clipboard, stepping towards the asset on the table, who was surrounded by two other scientists assessing vital signs. Of course, he’d heard the rumors where people said that this asset could smell fear on you. And of course, he’d also seen the damage the asset had done last week, the broken necks and the bloody throats. A bead of sweat tickled his neck and the young scientist just prayed the asset wouldn’t know he was scared. Too bad Rumlow wasn’t around anymore. He’d been a beast himself. At least they could trust Rollins to have their backs. But he tried to push his fear away, to focus on the numbers dictated to him and to scribble them down in the correct order. Everyone was following the security protocol this time. They’d be alright.

The young man knew the orders. Avoid touch, any kind of contact and verbal approach. He breathed heavily when he stood right before her, awaiting his colleagues’ next request, determine her pulse, desperately trying to ignore how blood-stained these combat pants were. How much power these legs held, how several knives stuck in sheaths on there, how the asset’s eyes followed him the entire time. He just wanted to get this over with, to be honest. Because his heart was beating way too fast right now at the possibility of a very sudden and very painful death. He’d seen it happen before to the personnel. He knew she could do it. She never had hurt him, not really, but who knew when that streak would end? Even with his trust in Hydra’s conditioning, there was no way to underestimate this asset. They took the upper part of her combat gear off, leaving an open view of the damage on the asset. A thin shirt and a sport bra covered her skin, but let them see all they needed to focus on. Thanks to years of training, she knew what they wanted to see. Not the many scars hidden under her skin, covered by the SecondSkin- Technology™ developed for her. In the blink of an eye, her skin changed from a healthy color to what needed to be worked on. Everything on the surface right now were some deep bruises and a terrible looking arm. They’d work overtime to get the asset mission-ready again, but there was nothing the team couldn’t fix. For now, though, anesthetics would have to do the job. Finally, they were done. The young scientist made the mistake of looking up for a brief moment, meeting the Remnant’s eyes. Icy blue pushed him back with a determination only intensified by how she bared her teeth at him behind the half see-through muzzle. He staggered backwards, until his back hit the wall and he felt the distance between him and the asset was big enough to be called safe. If there even was a condition called safe when the assassin was in the place.

More steps sounded through the hallway and one of the asset’s supervisors stepped in, accompanied by a man resembling the man he worked for only in skin color and attitude. The young scientist immediately recognized this man from last week, when he had come with Mr. Lomawu, who, apparently, didn’t have the means to appear today. Well. This man, with the military haircut and a determination in his step that probably shared the origin of military, eyed the room with a strict gaze and waved a handful of STRIKE unit guards in. Rollins secured the doorway. Whatever the man - his name tag spelled Djenge - planned, it couldn’t be good if he needed more guns in the room for it. The young scientist could tell Mr. Djenge wasn’t one to be messed with, one of those who were the top dogs in Hydra right now, in a time that the organization was reduced to only very few units and divisions. The man exchanged a few words with the subject’s supervisor, demanded vitals plus further information and nodded. Next, the mission report was delivered, but it didn’t take a scientist to tell that her voice sounded way too raspy, too rough. “What day is it for her?”, Djenge inquired. “Day Fourteen, Sir.”

They talked a few minutes longer, in hushed tones. As much the scientists wished that things hadn’t changed, that they wouldn’t have to switch up the schedule or their treatment, things didn’t look good. Things started to look even worse when they noticed how restless the Remnant was becoming on the table. She was moving around, shifting her weight. The young scientist held his breath. No one had strapped the asset in, if she got up… They really needed this to get over with. Another pearl of sweat rushed down his neck. Mr. Djenge’s voice cut through the quiet lab, ending all whispered conversations between the scientists and doctors. “New mission objective”, he announced loudly. Obviously, the Remnant wasn’t listening. They all noticed how her eyes whirred around the room and how her fingers had started to shake. “Soldier”, he bellowed. When nothing happened, he dared to step forward and grab the asset’s chin. The scientists froze. A throaty growl vibrated through the air, a warning that could turn into an attack every moment now. They all saw how the asset’s teeth were bared again, how her body language switched to belligerent in a matter of seconds. Someone had the mind to prevent another bloodbath and pull this incredibly stupid handler back. He grabbed one of the spray bottles that were always prepared for this asset and used it. Cold water was sprayed right into the asset’s face. There was an almost inaudible whimper and she sat back up, gaze clear and focused, betraying her skin that was rising in little goosebumps.

“Bring the tranquilizers, quick!”, one of the scientists shouted in the background. All guns were set on the asset in the center of the room now. Stick to the protocol, dammit! Was that so hard? “Soldier”, Djenge repeated. He ripped his arm out of the scientist’s hold, stepping forward. “You got a new mission target. Find the Winter Soldier, trace him.” When it stayed quiet and the asset’s fingers curled around the table, he continued. “Captain America took him prisoner. The Winter Soldier is held captive by criminals. He deserves his freedom. Bring him back and he can finish his good work.” Apparently, he’d read the reports issued for him and his supervisor, the part on how to talk to the asset. At least he put in a little effort. The Remnant listened, now, the confusion swimming in the blue eyes slowly being replaced by worry. A worry that was precious, because it worked like a motor, giving drive when everything was taken from this person. The man read lines from the book now, obviously carrying out his orders, trying to get this done and over with. “The world is brittle…” She struggled, clenching her jaw. Her eyes were pressed close. As always, she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t resist. But boy, this asset tried. “The world is brittle / seamed with cracks…”, he repeated, with more emphasis. Everything Hydra had planted into the young creature screamed far too loud to be hidden much longer and she broke. Too weak in the shadow of her full power. “The world is brittle”, she repeated with a husky voice. “seamed with cracks / ready to shatter.” “German”, he demanded. “Die Welt ist brüchig / gesäumt mit Rissen / bereit zu zerbrechen.” “Russian.” “Мир хрупок / весь в трещинах / готов разбиться.” “Wipe the asset, prep it and get it going.” The man checked his wristwatch with a frown, then turned towards the supervising scientist. “How long do you need?” “We can get the asset out in three hours, Sir.” “Good. Make sure to keep the leash tight. Can’t afford any slips. We need the Winter Soldier. Prepare her and send her in, three more missions have come up.”

At this point, there was nothing more to fear from the asset. She was completely compliant now, knowing the futility of struggle. The effect of her presence was gone like the light of a faded candle. A strong hand, it was Rollins’, gripped one of her arms while someone else guided a needle into her veins. Then, they pressed the asset into a seat right into the neighboring room, where a familiar machine waited. The machine secured the Remnant’s arms, strapping them in tight. A mouthpiece passed the muzzle on the Asset’s face and finally, everyone could do their work. The young scientist smiled. Hydra was good at what they did and today, he’d contributed to the big picture. And, no injuries on his part. They’d done a quite excellent job today.

Masterlist

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[its-cullenminating]

A Crash Course In Apologies

Hey! Here’s my entry for DaiharuWeek2017 -- sorry it’s late, and not from any prompt, but I’ve been working on it for a while at this point and what better time to post it, right?

Anyways, you can read the rest of my works here or here. Thanks, and enjoy!

By Arceus, he missed Hoenn.

The islands, the moody storms, the smell of the tropical sea that’s so different from Johto’s grey, industrial spray. Johto was fascinating, by all means -- the Ice Path in particular, but it’s not Steven’s home. He went to learn, to study, and with three separate college-ruled notebooks filled cover to cover with smudged ink and diagrams, pages warped with highlighters and stuffed with pamphlets, he’s more than ready to return with his findings and add his new specimens to his collection.

There’s just one problem -- he went to Johto on an impulse. Something about being alive in the region he almost lost made him need to go, and he left overnight with only a note left in his home and an email to his father as warning. He’s been gone for eight months.

He’d given May his house key as a gift of trust -- much like with many of his other gifts, he can’t say why he’d done it, just that it had seemed right at the time. He hopes that she had gone to visit, despite the guilt that weighs in his stomach at the thought, and that she’d kept the Beldum.

May Maple is going kill him when she sees him.

He doesn’t know whether or not to be eager despite that fact.

His plane lands in Lilycove, tourist destination that it is, letting the lead in his chest sink below the asphalt. As much as he wants to enjoy those first breaths of familiar Hoenn air they’re shaky. Despite himself, he wants to get on the return flight to Johto. At least there, he wouldn’t have to crunch Devon Corps’ numbers.

“It’s about time you showed up,” Wallace says outside the airport, a hand on his hips and eyes alight. “It was getting pretty boring without you, Stone.”

Steven flashes him a small smile. “And here I thought I wasn’t much for company. Something about the mysteries of accounting being lost on you, if I remember right.”

“I don’t recall ever saying such a thing! The wonders of numbers are all my soul craves, Steven. Equations are what I live for!” his friend cries, throwing one dramatic arm over his eyes even as his face breaks into a cheek-splitting grin.

Steven laughs for the first time in a long while. The knot in his stomach loosens the smallest bit, and he breaths a little easier. “Well, I’ll have to remember that next time we go to dinner. There’ll be plenty to go around, what with all the work I have to catch up on.”

“Not our fault you flew yourself halfway across the globe on nothing but a night's notice.” Wallace shrugs, smile fading to a more serious expression. “What did you expect?”

“Exactly what I’m getting. Look, I know it wasn’t the smartest thing to do--”

“Oh, you can say that again--”

“But we almost died! Wallace, we almost -- I almost died. That meteor, Deoxys and Rayquaza, they could have killed everyone. Destroyed the world! I could have died without seeing,” he throws his arm back towards the airport, to the plane taking off to Arceus-knows-where, “anywhere else!”

Wallace crosses his arms, fingers tapping an irritated rhythm on his bangles. “You’ve been to other places. Just a couple years ago, there was that conference in Unova, and before that you went to Indigo Plateau --”

“That’s just it, though. Business. That’s not seeing the country. If I have specimens from another country, they’re either gifts or from the web. I wanted to see more than a glimpse from a skyscraper.”

There’s a long silence, punctuated only with the bustle of people around them and the irritated tapping of Wallace’s fingers on his arms. Under the weight of his friend’s glare, Steven lowers his own to find a shiny, if otherwise nondescript, rock on the asphalt. Iron pyrite inclusions, perhaps.

“I just wanted to live for a minute,” he finally says, hoping the remorse in his chest comes through in his tone. “I’m sorry.”

A weight settles on his shoulder, followed by a low chuckle.

“You’re an idiot, Steven Stone. A human calculator and a geology buff the likes of which the world has never seen, yes, but you, my friend, are a dunce.”

Steven squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he’d never left the Ruins of Alph. As much as he expected this, and as much as he knows he deserves it, by Mew’s teeth it still stings.

“And not because I don’t forgive you --” Steven’s eyes snap up to Wallace’s face and he’s wearing that smarmy smirk of his, one eyebrow cocked and his other hand resting on his hip. “Oh no, I did a long time ago -- but because you forgot one crucial detail.”

Everything in Steven’s body freezes; he doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even think.

The smirk on his best friend’s face widens almost maliciously and Steven’s gut twists with anxiety.

“May doesn’t know you’re home yet.”

“I did you a favor, you know,” Wallace chirps as the two walk through Ever Grande an hour later. There’s a spring in his friend’s step so big it’s suspicious, and Steven can’t seem to shake the sense of impending doom that’s settled over him since Lilycove.

“And what would that be?”

“Thought it would be obvious. Johto really didn’t test your observational skills, did it?”

Steven sighs once, then again at Wallace’s laughter.

“Don’t be so glum, Stone!” he says, elbowing Steven in the ribs. “It’s more fun this way.”

“I’m sure you’ll all have an absolute riot at my funeral.”

“Drama always was your specialty. She’ll be happy to see you, stop worrying.”

“She’d probably be happier if you told her I was coming, Wallace.” Steven rolls his eyes at his friends’ wicked cackling and sends a prayer to whatever Legendary’s looking his way -- with his luck, probably none, but he has to try -- that this isn’t going to end in complete catastrophe.

They continue walking at a decent clip, but even though it’s only a couple blocks it feels like forever. What’s she going to do when she sees him? Hug him? Cry? Scream? She’s entitled to it, but if May is one thing it’s unpredictable. When he’d gone to Johto he’d hoped to learn more about her, where she came from and how she operates, but instead of going one step forwards he’d gone two backwards; there’s a part of her Hoenn carved, and the strange mix of the two cultures makes everything she does come out of left field.

In a world of numbers and patterns, where the days blend in without end, her unpredictability is addicting. Thing is, he doesn’t even know if she’s still going to want him around after his disappearing act.

He wipes his sweaty palms on his pants and hopes she will. Hopes for more than that, really, but by Arceus, if she’ll take him at all he’ll be happy. For the rest of his days, he’ll be happy.

Please, don’t let me have ruined everything, he thinks. Let me fix this.

“Steven?”

He snaps out of his trance, stare whipping up from the sidewalk to look at Wallace, who’s almost half a block behind him, one foot on the doorstep of a small white house, expression one of amused exasperation.

“You have an issue with the sidewalk?”

Steven shakes his head and speed-walks back to his friend, fighting the anxiety rising in his gut. Once Wallace rings that doorbell, there’s no going back, no way out.

His fight or flight instinct kicks into high gear and he almost books it back down the road, back to Johto, anywhere else but here, but then, before Wallace can knock, before he can even move --

The door slams open. There’s a shout, then another, Wallace is a blur of turquoise and white and Steven hits the ground. Hard.

On top of him is either a dumbbell the size of Kanto, or a Beldum. Two-hundred-odd pounds of excited, sentient metal, sitting on his chest like a Lillipup and making a high pitched ringing. Granted, the Pokemon is taking just enough of it’s weight off of him to keep his ribs from breaking as he squirms beneath it, but it’s going to leave a nasty bruise come morning.

“Ferrous!”

The Beldum immediately changes tune, and even though it can’t do much in the way of expressing emotion the low, apologetic note it hums out vibrates through his chest.

“What,” says a disgruntled-sounding May, “have I told you about jumping people at the door? You’re not a guard dog -- no, I don’t care who it is! You’re going to hurt someone.”

“I’m pretty sure your little pal just ruined my best suit,” Wallace mutters from the lawn. “I’m never going to get these grass stains out.”

The Beldum hovers off of Steven’s chest, still humming the apology as it floats to it’s trainer. Steven props up on an elbow, prodding his ribs with his other hand to make sure there isn’t any swelling while Wallace rights himself and May quietly scolds the Beldum he gave her. It’s normal, for a second, and he almost forgets he was gone before the reality of the situation hits him like a sack of bricks. He continues poking his chest long after May has fallen silent, and he can’t move through her glare.

When all is said and done, and Wallace has helped him up, nobody says anything. The Beldum hovers near May’s leg, Wallace picks at his suit and mutters under his breath, and Steven tries very hard to dissolve into air. In Johto, he imagined a hundred different ways this could go, how he could fix it -- apologies, gifts, anything, but now that he’s here...

There’s just nothing to say.

Wallace -- beautiful friend that he is -- is the one to break the silence.

“I feel like the front lawn isn’t the place for a battle of wills,” he says, flicking a ruffled turquoise lock out of his face. “Steven’s already publicly lost once. I don’t think his pride could handle another round.”

May’s gaze doesn’t break from Steven’s face; it’s hard and appraising, the same unrelenting grey of Johto’s sea. “Not until I get an explanation.”

“You should probably do that inside. I would stay, but I am a terrible third wheel. That, and I think I may have to replace my pants -- my ass is bright green.”  

When she looks away to give Wallace a once-over and have a laugh at his expense, he takes a few deep breaths. His organs feel like they’re in a vacuum, collapsing under the pressure of his own emotion. He runs a hand through his hair, wincing at a bruise forming on the back of his head. He’s lucky, he supposes, that May hasn’t evolved the Beldum yet. If it had been a Metang, or even worse, a Metagross, he’d be a couple ribs short at least.

“You coming in? Or are you planning on standing there until you take root?” May snaps, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“I -- oh, well -- yeah,” Steven manages, and follows her inside. Wallace shouts a farewell and he gives his friend a short wave, but keeps his eyes on the light brown hardwood as she closes the door behind him and leads him into the living room.

It’s a simple space, with a dark brown overstuffed loveseat and two chairs to match, a small tv tucked into the corner, and a couple bookshelves lining the walls between windows. Knick-knacks and picture frames fill the spaces not occupied by well-worn novels. Nothing too expensive, but not entirely thrift-store chic like she was when they first met. And this small, brightly lit, comfortable room feels more like May than her younger, shabbier self ever did.

“Make yourself comfortable, I guess,” she says, gesturing to the seats.

Steven perches on the edge of the loveseat, hands folded and back ramrod straight. The couch is a tad too short for him, and his knees stick up just enough to make him feel like a teenager, all limbs and no grace. It doesn’t help that the Beldum settles next to him, excited and humming. May nods, satisfied, and turns towards the kitchen.

“Water or tea?”

“Water’s fine, thanks.”

“Yeah.”

The room feels different without May filling the empty spaces. When he left, she was still living with her parents in Petalburg, and nothing ever really felt her own. This space is teaching him more about her than their Championship battle, or her victory against the legendary pokemon did. A pokemon battle can teach him about will, courage, teamwork, the like. An educating experience, to be sure, but he never knew that she’s fond of sky blue, or that her favorite genre is, by the sheer number of books, sci-fi. Small things, yes, but damn if it doesn’t make him --

“Sorry, filter’s out. I hope tap is fine,” May says as she turns the corner from the kitchen proper. “Martin got a bit overexcited last week and flooded half the kitchen. I had to get the pipes fixed.”

Her Swampert, Martin, chirps from somewhere upstairs, a distinct throaty sound he remembers well.

May glances upstairs, an exasperated grin curving her lips for the first time since he arrived. “He’s not supposed to be upstairs.”

Steven takes the glass she offers, returning her grin with an awkward one of his own. She holds the smile for a second and if he didn’t know May’s nature as he does he would’ve thought everything is fine, but she sobers as she sits, legs crossed and eyes turning hard. The knot in his stomach tightens under her stare, threatening nausea.

There’s a long silence, punctuated by the occasional tap of a fingernail on May’s untouched cup and Steven’s small sips.

The silence wears thin as May waits for answer Steven doesn’t know how to give.

Thinner as Steven’s glass slowly empties, as the Beldum gets bored with the inattention and bobs away with a heavy hum.

Steven flinches when May speaks -- I should have spoken first, he thinks. Guilt blossoms in his chest and he stares at the small film of water in the bottom of his cup.

“I’m feeling there’s something you need to get off your chest,” she huffs. “I suggest you start. Now.”

Steven sighs, sets his glass on an end table and cards a shaking hand through his hair. One of the few perks of growing up as a businessman is learning to internalize everything -- casual, calming gestures that put both yourself and an upset opposite party at ease are practiced, facial features are schooled, and voices remain neutral. Good to utilize, when one’s head is clear and negotiations are on the table.

Bad, when one is actually trying to connect with someone. Someone that’s not as easy as Wallace, who will always be there. Someone who might not forgive him, no matter what he says or how he says it.

“I’m not sure what to say.” His voice is calm, steady despite the anxiety rising into his throat. “I don’t know how to make this better.”

“You could start with an apology.”

He steals a glance at her to find those beautiful grey eyes of hers still stormy with anger and confusion, and locked on him. The humor that was almost in her words didn’t make it onto her face.

“Right. I’m sorry, then. I wish that I had gone about it better, and I’m sorry that I hurt you.” It's awkward and harder than it should be to say, but her eyes soften the smallest bit.

May nods. “That’s a start. Now,” she says, leaning forwards, elbows on her knees and hands clasped between them. “What the fuck?”

He almost laughs at her tone, but something says that if he does she’ll deck him.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, hunches inwards for a second, pinches the bridge of his nose. “I had to.”

“Had to what?” she snaps. Her voice is hot, and she’s no longer Johto’s frigid spray but a hurricane brewing in Hoenn’s waters. That softness that was in her eyes a moment ago has been blown away in her storm, been crushed to dust in her sudden anger. This is the trainer that fought Groudon tooth and nail, that punched Maxie in the face, that won the Championship of a region she wasn’t native to. “What, in the name of the Burned fucking Tower, did you have to do?”

“Leave!” It explodes out of him in a fire to equal hers. “I had to go! I almost --”

The room is a dead kind of silent when he cuts himself off. Tension damn near sparks off the both of them -- he’s surprised that the arm of her chair doesn’t tear from how hard she’s gripping it.

“I almost died,” he says, and it’s almost a whisper. All the fire leaves him as quickly as it came, leaving him exhausted, defeated. “Me, you, everyone. We all almost… died.”

May stares, mouth agape, startled at his outburst -- he doesn’t think she’s ever seen him this way, angry and desperate and lost. He can tell she doesn’t know what to do with it.

“You mean Rayquaza? That debacle?”

“Yes. That debacle,” he sighs.

She finally, finally, looks away. He watches her eyes flit over the room: the ceiling, the walls, the pictures on her bookshelves, anywhere but him.

“I didn’t want the world to become a giant ball of fire before I’d seen it,” Steven whispers, dropping his own stare to his hands. Rough, after so many months of digging and sifting, but strong and long-fingered. Like they were meant to play an instrument, at one point, but Steven’s path in life had built callouses in all the wrong spots.

“It was a spur of the moment decision, I know, and not a smart one, or very well thought out, but there are some things you just have to do, you know?”

“I didn’t know it affected you that much,” she says, voice quiet and free of heat. “I never really considered it. I mean, you’re -- well, you. You bounced back so easily after the Elemental Incident, I just thought…”

He chuckles then, shakes his head and twirls his thumbs. “Me, too. Instead, it took about two hours before I had a panic attack, scribbled out a note, threw a Beldum on the counter and sprinted out the door on the phone scheduling the closest flight to Johto. I didn’t send Devon Corps a notice until I was at the airport, and Wallace didn’t find out until I was already there. Those first couple days weren’t very fun. I forgot to pack anything in my rush to get out the door.”

“That bad, huh? I know how it is. After Groudon, I didn’t get out of bed for a week. Couldn’t stop shaking, nightmares every day -- my parents were pissed. It made dealing with Rayquaza easier, though. What’s one more Legendary pokemon, right?”

“You,” he says with a small, hopeful grin, “are one of only two people I’ve ever met that can say that.”

“Guess life-risking escapades aren’t for everyone.” She shrugs, returning his fading smile with a half-hearted one of her own.

“A near miss with a meteorite is apparently where I draw the line, if it makes you feel better.”

She laughs, that kind of surprised bubbly sound that warms his bones to hear. It’s been so rare since May fought Groudon. “It does. Makes my reactions seem a bit tamer in comparison.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, after the mirth has faded a bit from them both. “I should have told you, or given more notice, or something --”

“A phone call would have been nice.”

He frowns, twists the rings on his fingers. “I didn’t know what to say, to be honest. I didn’t even know if you’d want to talk to me at all after you found out I was gone.”

“Of course I wanted to talk to you!” she says, affronted. “I was worried sick, Steven! I love Ferrous, but he’s not your replacement. We -- I -- missed you.”

It’s his turn now to gape at her, eyebrows somewhere near his hairline and jaw sitting on the floor. He half expects his old etiquette instructor to snap his mouth shut with her ruler.

May isn’t Wallace -- Wallace is easy. When he says he missed Steven, it was friendly -- if a tad embittered -- and relaxed Steven. Let him know he was wanted, that his absence was noticed and unpleasant. May, on the other hand, is the one person that can knock eloquent and prepared Steven Stone, heir of Devon Corps., completely speechless. Because when she says she missed him, that she was worried --

He swears he hears what he feels, and by Arceus above, his heart misses a beat.

“Just…” she heaves, turning away from his stare even as her cheeks turn as red as her old tank top, “don’t do that to me again. We need you here, Champion or not.”

“I promise.”

She nods and he flashes a half-grin. The daylight outside has faded to brilliant, seaside orange. She follows his eyes and stands when she sees the sky.

“Come on. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen a proper Hoenn sunset.”

He follows her out the door and onto her doorstep. Behind them, Ferrous the Beldum hums happily, and nudges its way in between their legs. They can see the ocean horizon from her front door, and he can breathe.

In silence, shoulders pressed together, alone in all the world ignoring them, they watch the sun sink behind Hoenn’s ocean.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” May murmurs, placing her head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay.” His voice is just as soft as hers despite the heat in his stomach. He could fly, right now, could reach the stars appearing in the sky, but instead he just leans his cheek on her hair, takes in the texture and the faint smell of mago berries as an arm loops around her shoulders. “I would have snapped at me too. I was being...”

“An ass?”

He snorts, smiling into her hair. “That’s one way to put it,,” he says.

The sun’s almost sunk below the horizon when she speaks again, hesitant and careful.

“You promise that you won’t leave like that again?”

He pulls away to look at her face, at the caution and almost childish hurt written in the furrow of her brow and the purse of her lips. Once bitten, twice shy it seems.

“Here.” He holds up a hand to her, pinky finger extended from a fist. “Pinky swear.”

The grin that splits her face is blinding and relieved, full of something he doesn’t dare to name. She grips his pinky with hers and moves their hands up and down handshake style. “Pinky swear.”

“And so mote it be,” he rumbles, voice down as low as it can go, head bowed as if in prayer, ruining the effect on purpose with a shit-eating grin.

She laughs then, and pulls him back to her side, tangling their hands together in the process. Her head returns to its previous perch on his shoulder, and in content quiet, with only the sound of the ocean and the curious ringing of Ferrous as it examines something in the yard, they stare at the sky and the moon, reveling in the cool sea breeze.

She squeezes his hand almost hard enough to hurt and heaves a content, heavy sigh.

“I’m glad you came home, Steven.”

Something warm and bright and filling him like helium replaces that knot in his stomach. He clutches May’s hand, runs a thumb over her knuckles and watches her face turn splotchy in the yellow of the porch light. He missed her, by Arceus and Mew and every Legendary of every pantheon, he had missed her.

“Me, too.”