#i’m extremely pale so it’s not surprising but my sister who is even paler was out there almost as long as me and didn’t burn at all??

[steviescrystals]

i love the sun so much but she hates me 💔

[peachyunjinnie]

❝there’s always a first time❞ hjs ― m.

― summary:

your brother seungmin is very protective over you, but one day your best friend gave you a stick and poke tattoo and you get an infection. fortunately seungmin’s friend jisung as a hobby tattoo fanatic helps you take care of it and when seungmin wasn’t there you two decide to run away.

badboy!jisung/goodgirl!reader | fluff, smut | 5.3k ↬ content warnings: swear words, the mention of alcohol and drugs. drunk/high sex, with a little size and corruption kink.

a/n: i had this idea a couple of days ago and i tried my best to get this idea into a fic, i hope you enjoy it !!

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The relationship between me and my cousin Seungmin is better than with anyone else, you could say that we could consider ourselves as siblings and even best friends. We had the same taste in humor and even better lived in the same house after my mother died right after she gave birth to me. My father ended up bringing me to my aunt and uncle at the age of 2. 

Seungmin is 1 year older and has ‘BBPI’ as he calls it which means Big Brother Protection Instinct. I know, complete nonsense and as a 16-year old I don’t get why I have to be protected. Well, as Seungmin said I am still ‘his small sister’. Pathetic. As said before Seungmin is 1 year older to be exact 11 months and 28 days and has friends, for whatever reason, he has a whole group. Well, he warned me about one of them, the walking trouble: Han Jisung. He basically is the opposite of me, a 180 if you want to say it.

He stole the car of his stepfather numerous of times and I remember seeing him drunk and completely stoned in school, that I will never forget. Last year he was stumbling through the hallways of our school. His hair messy and his smile never leaving his lips. He had the hardest time trying to keep his eyes open, or even just keeping his legs moving. And the best part, he puked on his teacher's chest. It was the highlight of the whole day, no the whole semester. His stepfather thank god is very wealthy and managed to keep him in school, somehow.

I heard a lot of rumors about this Jisung and I really do not want to believe that he was in the Russian mafia boss nor do I want to believe that he killed his father and is living with his mother who helped him. It was really funny though to hear how unique and ridiculous the fantasies and the gossip was at our school, I mean a Russian mafia boss, seriously?

I hung out with my own friends, but sometimes I would get to talk and just meet my brother’s friends. In conclusion, we even had the same taste in friends. They were really nice. I really have the best friendship with Felix and Changbin. Felix firstly has an excellent taste in music and humor, secondly, he is by far one of the most concentrated gamer I’ve ever met. Changbin is just Changbin. He is kind of annoying and clingy with his friends. Which you would’ve never expected from this buff hulk. And to be completely honest with you, Changbin and Lix...are kind of cute together.

Well, with Seungmin being as protective as he is, he has told me clearly that dating is already a picky topic but dating one of his group members. I think he would be as angry as he was when I asked him what a ‘Day6′ was. He really ignored me for 3 weeks straight, with a text message saying ‘if you know who wonpil is then you are allowed to talk to me’. (stan day6, cowards.)

“Stop moving so much, I’ve done it before and you’re overreacting.” She whisper-screamed. She was nearly done with her K on my thigh, It was way bigger than I thought it would be, but it looked good.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m just getting poked by a hot needle on my thigh over and over again.” My sarcasm was louder than the thoughts in my head that were shouting lines of ‘you’re so in trouble’ or ‘you will never be able to get this off your skin’. 

“So.. Here we go. Done.” She said as she was looking at her masterpiece of a K on my thigh of the size of a thumb. But it looked even and nice. She has done a (The first letter of y/n) on her thigh. I cannot believe how red it was though, and swollen. Extremely swollen

“Kim, when will it be ‘okay’?” I asked her with a slight nervous undertone. I really am the biggest chicken on earth. She opened her bag and got saran wrap. She took some out and wrapped it over her creation with such a soft touch. I still cringed and squinched.

“Maybe a week or two. It doesn’t take too long.” She smiled at our bond. I smiled with her. We ended up in a big hug and stayed like this for some time before she packed her stuff and headed out.

I admired her work on my thigh and stood up, with an overwhelming pain spreading across my thigh. I couldn’t stand up on my own feet, my thigh stung extremely and harshly. 

Panic rising through me, what the heck should I do now? Should I call my mom and tell her about it? Should I tell Seungmin and ask him for help? Should I just emigrate to Brazil and start my new life as a Silvia Theresa Rodriguez? 

I crawled to my bed and tried my best to let the 2 years drama club pay off. I called my mom and asked for a painkiller. She came up to my room and sat on the edge of my bed.

“Honey, is everything okay?” Her concerned eyes scanned my body and noticed my messy hair and my pale face. I coughed.

“Mom, I-I’m sick.” She sat there and looked at me and gave me the painkiller with a glass of water. 

I snatched it out of her hand and gulped the pill down as if it were the only banana in the jungle. Her concern grew faster and she shook her head.

“I’m going to call your teacher. You’re not going to school.” She said as she got off my bed and walked off with her phone in her hand, dialing the number.

After the longest 8 hours, Seungmin came home, and thank god came into my room. With a bag of McDonald's and a big smile, he went to my bed and sat down. 

“Why didn’t you come to school?” He gave me the bag and with a breathtaking smell of fat and fast food filling my nose and getting the best of me. 

“Oh, I am sick my head hurt a little, and mom overreacted.” I said with a huge load of fries in my mouth.

With a small pat on my thigh, he hit the right spot of the K and a shriek came out, my whole body tensing up and Seungmin looking at my covered thigh. He took the blanket off. My shorts relieving the now swollen and slightly scabbing spot. 

A moment of silence filled the room and Seungmins face has gotten from a healthy color to a concerning red and then to a frightening purple.

“Surprise...” I smiled awkwardly.

“Y/N, you got a fucking tattoo...” His voice was a low growl, but still, you could clearly hear the pure panic in his voice.

“Uhm, haha yea. So I made it myself, you like it?” My shaking voice showing the state of mine. My thigh looked pretty bad and as painful as it would’ve been, without the painkillers.

“Did you disinfect it?” My whole head went blank. Of course, it was so swollen and scabbing, Kim didn’t disinfect it. My face went paler than pale and I rethought the consequences of an infection.

“Okay, I’ll take that as a no. Get your shoes and we will get to my friend he will help you.” He really was very serious about the infection so I stood up with a numb pain, but not as overwhelming as it was yesterday. I searched for my shoes and directly followed him.

A quick bus ride and a small foot-march later there was a big but still small and cozy house. Red and white, reminding me of a red velvet cupcake. Looks fancy but is cute at the same time. The grass and the dwarfs decorating the beautiful view. A middle-aged lady working in the garden, planting in seeds and watering the red tulips. 

“Hello, Mrs. Han is Jisung home?” He grinned at her.

“Oh hello, Seungmin. Nice to see you again!” She smiled at him with a motherly aura surrounding her. She hugged him and I could see that she liked Seungmin a lot. He didn’t really know what to do awkwardly stood there and let her do. She noticed me standing there and hiding behind Seungmin's tall figure and met with her warm brown eyes.

“Hello, and who are you?” she asked with a bigger smile.

“Uh, I am Seungmins sister.” I immediately trusted her and her warm embrace.

“Ah yes, I can see the model genes going in the family. You seem like you’re in a big rush to see Jisung, he’s in his room.” She told us and saw my embarrassed blush across my face as Seungmin took my hand and yanked me downstairs to where Jisung was.

The basement as a room, interesting. It was colored black and had a lot of posters of some bands that I have never heard of. There he was on his bed smoking a cigarette and admiring his newest addition to his arm, a slightly red and in saran wrapped tattoo. A small skull drinking from a glass bottle, very precise and well made. He sat there and continued to smoke.

“Seungmin, what’s up.” he took a puff. Not giving anyone a single look. His hand tapping over his forearm and keep admiring his skull. 

“I need your help. My sister made a tattoo and now it’s infected. Do you know what to do?” Seungmin seemed very concerned and worried. Jisung stood up and chuckled a little.

“The little Y/N, has a tattoo?” He asked me and looked down at me. 

His eyes have the same warm brown as his mothers and I weirdly trusted him regardless of his reputation. His hair was dyed a very light blonde and his face was very chubby, unlike his body which was athletic: muscular but slim. He had two tears on his face and my thoughts went crazy. Who in the actual hell did he kill and the rumors of Jisung being a Russian mafia boss came into my mind and I reconsidered if I should be worried to be in a room with him?

“Seungmin, I have some lemonade for you.” Mrs. Han's voice echoed through the basement and he looked at Jisung.

“Go for it, I will take care of her.” He gave him green light and Seungmin looked at him with a look in his eyes. Which could be translated into ‘If you hit on my sister, I will drag your corpse to the nearest forest and let you get eaten by the birds’. Jisung nodded and Seungmin went upstairs.

“So tell me, how did you do that?” He said with a smile as he pointed to my infected K. His hair falling on his face, a little messy but still perfectly proportional.

“Uhm, a long story...” He went to his desk and took out a liquid and a cotton pad. He pushed the chair next to the bed and patted the bed. I quickly sat down. Him in front of me.

“I have time, come on.” He looked up and gave me a simper. I felt a small tickle again and wanted to trust him with it.

“Well uh, my friend Kim wanted to get us bonded. She took a needle and poked my skin for some time until it was done.” He laughed a little, letting me see his whites. 

“You stick and poked and didn’t disinfect it?” His eyes still on mine and not leaving the look they had, of the warm and soft chocolate brown.

“No, we didn’t and stop making fun of me- Ah-” His cold hand touching my thigh. My body stiffened and it was hard to relax.

“Calm down, relax. You wanna listen to music? disinfecting this will be a little uncomfortable.” He stood up and walked to his stereo. He took out a cassette and stuck one in. A prehistoric cassette, I haven’t seen this since I listened to Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban one years ago. After some seconds of silence, ‘All The Small Things’ by blink-182 boosted through the speakers.

He turned around and sat down again and wet the pad with this liquid. He took off the wrap and the air hit the wound. It was a stinging soreness, that leads me to look away and bite my lower lip, hard.

He took the wet pad and started to clean up the wound as careful and gentle as possible, the stinging and burning pain was a very harsh rush of pain. I whined and groaned loudly.

“Does it hurt?” He asked as he was still cleaning up.

“Well, yes,” I said with a small whine.

“Good. If I see you with a new tattoo I will get you punished.” his voice getting raspier and raspier. But he still cleaned the wound up and was done with the disinfecting. He stood up again and got some of the saran wraps and pointed his finger, signaling me to stand up.

I stood up from his bed and he kneeled down to wrap it up. His hands still very cold and tickling my thigh. 

“So Kim, is your friend?” His voice a little absent.

“Yes, my best.” I had to automatically smile.

“Tell me about her, how is she like?” I was surprised at his interest in my personal life but answered him.

“Oh, um she is reckless and she never thinks about her actions. She makes out stupid things that I have to box her out of. But she also has a nice and gentle side that not many know. I love her a lot.” I smiled at our memories and how easy it was to be myself around her.

As I was in my thoughts, Jisung took out a bottle of Jack Daniels and takes a glass. He gets him a good amount and gets another glass after seeing my big eyes. After a long friendship with Kim who was known for drinking, I have never drunk any alcohol, well until today. He gave me a glass full of brown fluid.

“I- I can’t believe we did that.” I laughed as Jisung was holding my hand walking on an abandoned street in the middle of nowhere. He had given me a big sip of the whiskey, it was a burning sensation of my taste buds being confused and curious for more. 

“It’s better, not being sober right?” He asked stumbling into the sunset.The bitter taste of the alcohol and the adrenaline of me running away with a friend of my brother without his permission. I felt every single touch of his hand tightening and holding my hand in his clutches not letting go.

“Come on drink it, Y/N. The painkillers are not going to help you any better than Jackie will.” He smiled and waved the glass in front of my nose. I mean I never was drunk and I want to know what it’s like. My curiosity and stupidity have gotten control of me and I accepted with a shaky hand. 

I took a small sip of the whiskey and the bitter and stinging sensation was so disgusting. I couldn’t swallow it and started to look around for somewhere to spit it at. But with Jisung forcing me to look up at him with his fingers, pushing my head upwards. 

“Swallow it, now.” his eyes burning holes into mine and letting me breathless with no other choice other than swallow. I gulped the fluid down and the burn in my throat was unbelievably harsh. 

“Good girl, now. If Seungmin sees your ass drunk this will be very dangerous for both us. Do you have any other clothes or is this everything you’ve got?” He already searched in his closet and gave me a black hoodie with some jeans. 

“Here you go. Hurry up, my mom is not going to keep him for any longer.” He went upstairs and left me with there a little tipsy and with some clothes from this boy that I barely knew. 

After getting them on I noticed the size difference, Jisung has it in L. On me it was XXL. The size was really funny and the jeans that should hug his waist like they are on the ones he is wearing, are now hanging from my pelvic bone. I saw my reflection of the mirror and busted out in laughter. 

Jisung came down and looked at my new outfit, and laughed as well. He came in front of me and squished my cheeks. He played with them and ruffled my hair into a mess, I officially am looking like I just woke up with my PJ’s. 

“You look so cute, this stuff is the tightest clothing that I have and your body is just sliding through.” He smiled and looked into my eyes, his hands still cupping my cheeks. A strong smell of alcohol and cigarettes leaving him, mixing with his cologne.

He stepped back and admired this baggy look. He had a hand on his chin, thinking about what can make it look even better than it already does. With an idea in his mind he sought for.... a belt. 

He took the of course black belt and put it over my waist. I almost wanted to remind him that I am not a toddler and can put on a belt myself, but the sudden closeness of him and his firm grip on his jeans on me. My heart did a small tap dance, but he continued to put it on with no sign of hesitation.

“This looks better. Take your shoes and let’s get out of here.” Trouble, that was what I am going to get after this. Am I out of my mind going with Jisung with no other thought? Am I dumb for trusting this dude that threw up on his teacher's chest in the hallway last year?

He packed his bag with a shit ton of bottles and some other stuff that I don’t even want to know what it is, the curiosity of what is in this bag now really bugged me. What did he have in this bag? He started to notice my glare on his black backpack.

“You ever had drugs, little one?” He asked as if it was the most normal thing to ask a 16-year-old. If I ever had drugs, the small sips of this weird and burning stuff and the coffee I had in the morning.

“N-No.” My stutter surprised me and the sudden tension started to get harder and intense. My subconscious shouted in my head to get out and go home with Seungmin, but this Jisung really had something and I wanted to explore that.

“There’s always a first time and I needed to go out anyway. You wanna meet my friends?” His smirk was absolutely precious and there was no way in hell that I could say no to this face. After my agreement, he smiled even brighter than before. He took some of his rings and gave those to me and some chains. I looked so different from what I daily wear and with a hat my appearance was complete.

“I-It’s so much better. Not having this pressure.” After another big gulp of the whiskey, he threw the bottle to the road and opened his bag. A see-through water like a bottle. He gave it to me and I opened it after some seconds of struggle. We stumbled through the sunset of the lonely and empty roads of a beautiful panorama.

“Le-Let’s sit down for a while. I am so ti-tired.” I laughed and sat down on the empty road. He joined me and took the opened vodka bottle from me and took a small sip after gasping dramatically and getting a green bag out of his pocket. It looked like leaves and after a long time of finding out what it was, I knew it when he started to build a joint.

I took the bottle and drank the alcohol. I couldn’t believe this scenario, I am drunk and I am about to get high. I will get so much damage for this one night, but it still felt like it was a Bonnie and Clyde after play. Such a euphoric moment, and a moment I would’ve never have dreamed of.

So deep in my own thoughts and my own actions and with this alcohol in my hands, I didn’t see that Jisung was already done with his work. He saw my lazy eyes and pointed out to his bag.

“Hey, listen to music on my phone the code is 0325.” I crawled over to his bag and searched for the perfect song and here it was. New Flesh by the Current Joys, a carefree and a lighthearted song. The song started playing and Jisung snickered.

“I start to really learn a new si-side of you. Little miss Y/N.” He finished his joint and licked it clean. He grabbed in his bag and pulled out speakers. This bag really is a survival kit. He connected them to his phone and the music blasted out with such an enormous volume.

He took out his lighter and the fire sneaked it’s way through the marijuana and gives out a really unique smell. He seemed relaxed and fell on his back. He now was lying on the hard and cold cement road, his little relaxing tool between his fingers.

“So you never smoked before, like ever?”He has gotten up again and let his arm over my shoulder, giving me a really focused look.

“N-Nah.” I giggled for no reason. My head felt dizzy and my vision getting blurry after breathing in second-hand smoke.

“So I’m gonna show you, ho-how to do it the right way.” He smiled and almost closing his eyes completely.

He took my face into his hand and held the joint on the other hand. He gave it to me and I held it the best way I could, trying to let it fall down. I took a big hit and coughed all of the smoke out in a matter of 3 seconds.

He laughed uncontrollably and as he was laughing my head started to turn, my stomach started to growl and my mouth was getting dry. I honestly did not expect it to work that easily but I felt the difference in my body. I took another puff of it and another.

With a little time it has gotten easier and better to not cough. Jisung after not talking for what seemed like a whole eternity, started to notice that the sky is getting darker. He saw a whole field next to the road and threw his stuff in there and threw himself as well.

“Come here! The field is soft.” He shouted from his new spot and I giggled and jumped on top of him. His laugh resounded through the emptiness surrounding us and my giggle became a little quieter when I felt his hand on my hip. As before, when he put on the belt for me, my face grew hot and my eyes stayed on him and I played with his hair. He stroked my body with his fingertips, it feeling like electric wires rushing through my hot body. 

I leaned down and then kissed his soft lips. Right at this moment I didn’t care about anyone. My brother, my parents, my friends not even my own thoughts that screamed in my head to cut it off and go home. I wanted to live and wanted to enjoy, feel this moment. Exactly live in this moment right here and there. In a field in the middle of nowhere with the music still blasting somewhere near us and the taste of alcohol still running through my mouth and most importantly, Jisung being right here and there. 

“I d-don’t want to pressure you to anything, Y/N.-” I shushed him up with another kiss and his smile making the butterflies in my tummy explode into a mess. He tucked on his hoodie and leaned into my ear.

“I am sure you look even better without my hoodie on.”

I giggled loudly, his hand getting lost on the inside of my hoodie. Grasping on my bra and massaging it softly. My world turning in circles and the music still playing on the highest volume from the speakers, somewhere in the grass.

“I want you, now.” I said, looking down to him. I took off my hoodie and threw it next to Jisung beneath me. His hands still on me, my hair falling down to the side of his face. I was needy and what could feed this hunger was him.

“If your brother could see his little girl…” he smiled at my face being some small inches in front of his. the taste of the marijuana in my mouth mixed with the strong vodka and whiskey was driving me into the dumbest things.

I kissed his soft lips, touching them a little and his tongue rolling with mine. He tasted like danger and everything forbidden for me, giving me a thrill of my life. I continued to go down his neck, sucking the best I could making it hard due to the lack of energy.

“You’re doing great, little one.” He moaned when I once reached his hard and perky abs, leaving a trail of bruises and hickeys all the way down here. He groaned once I unlocked his belt and pushed his jeans down to his boxers. The outline of his dick was hardly poking out, getting me to an idea of my first blowjob ever.

I pulled the off and there he was, poking at me. The hard and red tip, cum dripping on them slightly. I took him in my hands, carefully pumping him. His eyes following my actions his whines and stares telling me to put him in my mouth, I couldn’t get him all in, him laughing at me trying my hardest to deepthroat.

“Your little mouth is amazing.” He mumbled with his eyes closed tightly, his hands getting lost in my hair. Moans and grunts getting me wetter and wetter. I couldn’t breathe and with my mouth being filled up completely, my eyes turning to the back of my head.

I backed up and took some time to breathe, a string of saliva connecting my lips with his wet and throbbing dick. He pushed his hair back, his hand still on my head, grabbing and pulling at it hardly. I choked lightly on his pressure on my head, pushing me down and forcefully getting me down. After some seconds of complete silence he let go and a broken groan echoed through my dizzy head.

“Uh fuck, how can this small mouth get all that in?” He smiled looking down at me with his lazy eyes on the string of saliva connecting his tip to my lips. I started to laugh out, the feeling of a dick in my mouth reminding me of a Popsicle. He laughed as well, this whole scenario being unbelievable. It was deep dark outside, the only light being the lanterns of the side street and the moon, shining out heavily. The wheat among us, the music that still played beside us.

He suddenly stopped giggling immediately and closed his eyes. His head was thrown to the ground and he held my head in his hands, still thrusting into my mouth hardly.

“Wh-Where can I c-cum?” He stuttered and I just continued to bop my head down his length, feeling every inch in my mouth, I choked a little on the twitch of his cock. “Fuuuck.” He groaned loud through the hard beats of the music. I felt his dick twitch again in my throat and as I moaned the vibrations got him to spill his load into my mouth. The warm liquid running through my throat, I choked once again and the shivers went down my spine mercilessly.

“Ah fuck.” He tried to collect his breath, moaning more curse words. I still sucked at the tip and popped him out of my mouth, his seeds running down my lips. I looked up at his brown eyes, stars above us reflecting in them. He had the warmest and softest expression on his face, starring down at my cum filled mouth, trying my hardest to swallow everything.

“Now it’s your turn, princess.”

[ghostsray]

kin assigned fenton

(’nother @phicphight entry for @darks-ink‘s prompt: "Fenton/Phantom AU where during the Portal accident, a ghost bonds to Danny Fenton's body, bringing him back to life but maintaining their own ghostly memories and none of Danny's. Meanwhile, Danny himself died and became a ghost, keeping his own human memories.")

(words: 8645) (AO3)

(part 2)

The first thing Phantom noticed when he woke up was that he felt heavy.

Gravity did not exist in the ghost zone. He never felt heavy unless he was being pinned by another ghost. As such, he was filled with fear, and his eys flew open.

He immediately regretted this action, because the harsh light that met his eyes made him wince and close them again. How could his eyes hurt? Ghosts shouldn't even be able to feel pain unless it was dull, but just looking at something bright made his head ache.

Now that he noticed it, he felt much more than just a headache. There was the cold floor underneath his arms, and when he tried to stir, a sharp ache flared throughout his whole body.

What, sincerely, the fuck was happening?

There was ringing in his ears, but that faded over time. When the ringing was no longer there, he was able to make out voices. They seemed to repeat the same name over and over: "Danny!"

"Who's Danny?" he managed to say. Ancients, even his tongue felt heavy.

The voices suddenly fell silent. "Um," said one of them, "you are."

Phantom hesitantly opened his eyes again, slowly this time. He found two people standing over him, but something about them looked odd. Their skins weren't like any shade of blue, green, or gray he had seen on other ghosts, and they lacked any sort of glow emanating from their bodies...

Phantom's eyes widened, and he blurted out, "Humans!"

The concern on both humans' faces immediately deepened. "...Yeah?" the darker one, which wore glasses and a ridiculous red hat, said. "Should we not be?"

The paler one, which looked like a girl with black hair and even blacker eyeliner, leaned over Phantom with knitted brows. She held up a hand with four fingers raised and asked, "Danny, how many fingers am I holding up?"

Phantom wanted to scramble away from these strangers, but his body was too tired and--ugh--heavy for him to move, so he frowned at the human girl and said, "Four. But why do you keep calling me Danny?"

The two humans exchanged a glance, then the girl asked, "Do you remember anything about yourself?"

"Yeah," Phantom said, a little (okay, a lot) confused. "My name's Phantom."

Another exchanged glance, and the human boy said, "No, it's not."

Phantom eyed the two of them in turn and said, "How do you know? I've never even met you before."

The girl grabbed his shoulder, which made him wince because he was still in a lot of pain (which shouldn't be possible, but he was). She stated sternly, "Yes, you have. We're your friends--I'm Sam, he's Tucker, remember? And you're Danny."

Despite his pain, Phantom managed to push her away and sit up against the awful pull of gravity. "No, I'm not! I--" He froze, because just then a strand of black hair fell over his eye. His hair wasn't black. If that wasn't enough to confuse him, he then noticed his own hands, which in fact were not his own. He was dressed in a white jumpsuit, except it looked like it had been blown apart--tears and holes riddled it, and through these, the skin underneath was visible. Pink skin, just like the paler human's. Phantom brought the hand up to his face. Hundreds of tiny grooves were etched into it.

Again, what the fuck? This was not a ghost hand. It didn't even have any claws! Realization dawned on him. He wasn't in a ghost body...he was in a human's.

"Uh, Danny?" the boy--Tucker--asked.

Danny. That must be the name of the human he was inside. Phantom didn't even remember overshadowing this guy, but that must be what was happening, right? He focused on leaving Danny's body so the human can talk to his friends and get them to leave him alone. Except, well, no matter how hard he tried...

"I'm stuck," he said.

"Stuck?" Sam repeated.

Phantom was really filled with fear now. This--yuck--human organ in his borrowed chest began to beat harder the more anxious he got, which wasn't helping. "I'm stuck inside this body! Why can't I leave?"

He glared at the two humans before him, who looked dumbfounded. "...Um," Tucker finally said, "are you saying...you're a ghost?"

"Yes, I'm a ghost!" Phantom snapped. Ouch, his head hurt. Phantom tried to push Danny's stupid body to its feet, which was enormously hard with this stupid gravity, but he managed to succeed. "I'm not Danny, whoever he is. I need to get out!"

"Er, Da--Phantom," Sam said. "How do we know you're really a ghost and not just, uh..."

"Off your bonkers?" Tucker completed.

Phantom raised an eyebrow. "Why? What's so hard to believe about your friend getting possessed?"

"Nothing much," Tucker answered, "except that ghosts don't exist."

Of fucking course he would say that. Why would humans ever believe in ghosts? The two species interact so rarely that Phantom himself would not have believed in humans if several ghosts didn't previously exist as them in life. Phantom opened his mouth, trying to find a valid argument, but he came up empty. Not that it mattered anyway, because the blood rushing from the chest organ was growing too heavy for his thought organ to handle, and he felt Danny's knees buckle and send him falling to the floor again while his vision filled with black.

He woke up. Again.

This time, the surface underneath him wasn't so cold. In fact, it was warm and soft. Likewise, the torn up hazmat suit he was wearing before was now replaced by soft cotton clothes.

Phantom hurriedly brought a hand to his face and was immediately disappointed. He was still in Danny's body. How? Why? Why was he stuck?

"Danny, you're awake!" a voice next to him said, making him jolt in surprise. He expected to see the same girl as before, but when he turned his head (Correction: Danny's head) to the side, he saw a different human. She had ginger hair and teal eyes.

"I'm not Danny," he told her.

The girl frowned. "Sam and Tucker told me about this. They say you think you are...a ghost?"

"I don't think I'm a ghost, I am a ghost," Phantom retorted.

"Really?" the girl replied skeptically. "Can you prove that?"

That should have been easy. Ghosts still kept a few of their powers even while they were possessing someone--at least, that's what he heard from the few ghosts who did interact with humans and managed to overshadow one. He focused on Danny's hand, willing it to turn invisible.

It did not turn invisible.

He frowned and tried to phase it through the soft surface he was lying on. The hand only pressed against it, but it did not phase through.

Invisibility and intangibility were a ghost's two simplest powers, so why was he unable to use them?

"You're not a ghost," the girl said when she sensed his failure. "You're Danny Fenton, a human."

"I'm pretty sure I just told you that I'm not."

The girl's gaze was intense as she continued, "You just went through a traumatizing experience. It would be normal for your brain to make up memories to..."

"Woah, woah, woah," Phantom said before she could finish. He rolled his borrowed eyes and grumbled, "Awesome. You're a psychologist."

"I'm your sister, Jazz," she stated simply. "And...are you saying you know what a psychologist is?"

"Of course I do! Do you think all ghosts are eighteenth century peasants or something? Psychologists can die, too, you know."

Jazz was undaunted by his comment. "As I was saying, though..."

"I'm not crazy--I mean, Danny isn't crazy," Phantom cut her off. "Like I told you, I'm a ghost."

All of a sudden, the door slammed open, causing Phantom to jump in his bed. A very large human man dressed in a vivid orange jumpsuit walked in, followed by a shorter human woman in a matching teal suit.

"He confesses! So he's guilty," the man said.

Jazz groaned. "Dad--"

"Your father is right, dear," the woman in teal said. "You said Danny might be having a psychological crisis, so we let you talk to him, but it's clear now that the ghost inside him is saying the truth."

"Yes, thank you!" Phantom said, spreading his arms out gladly. "Finally, someone who believes me!"

The woman gave him a smile. "We believe you, dear. And we'll get you out of my son."

"Really?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh, yes," she said, and then whatever happiness Phantom felt immediately plummeted as she pulled out a very large weapon and aimed it at him. "And the only way to do that is by exterminating you."

Phantom's eyes widened, and he chuckled nervously. "Um, sike?"

The gun powered up, and Phantom yelped and shut his eyes as a blast came out at him.

Silence fell over the room.

Phantom opened one eye, then the other. The weapon's nuzzle was smoking slightly, so it must have fired already, but he wasn't harmed. He scanned the room to see any sign of where the shot might have landed, and he found a scorch mark--right behind where he should have been hit.

"Huh," the large man said. "I guess Jazzy-pants was right."

Phantom snapped his attention to him. "What?"

"The weapon didn't affect you," the woman holding the gun said. "It only affects ghosts, which means you're a hundred percent human."

"Wait, hold up," Phantom said, growing a little nervous and extremely confused. "How do you even know it works against ghosts? Did you meet any?"

The woman sighed, like this was a topic she had to explain many times over. "I assure you, it works. We don't need any practical testing to know that the theory is correct."

"But it's not," he argued, then gestured down to himself. "It didn't shoot me."

"Trust me, I know what I'm talking about," the woman said. "You're human."

Phantom paled. "But..."

He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and saw Jazz looking at him pityingly. "It's okay, Danny. I know you're confused."

"I'm not Danny!" he shouted. He couldn't be. There was no way his memories could be fake. The Ghost Zone, the lairs he visited, Frostbite, Dora, Sidney, all those ghosts he befriended...he was certain those couldn't be fake. Right?

But the humans seemed sure about their conclusion. The woman put her weapon away, got close to Phantom, and actually kissed his forehead. "I'm sure youre tired, Danny. Why don't you go back to sleep?"

Phantom wanted to argue that he wasn't tired, that he was the opposite of tired, but unfortunately, she was right. After she lowered him back into the bed with an immensely strong grip, he felt his (Danny's?) eyelids grow heavy. Well, heavier than usual.

The other people in the room, Danny's family, filed out as Phantom reluctantly fell asleep.

He saw himself back in the Ghost Zone, where he should be. He was flying around lazily, doing loop de loops in the air and poking the clouds of swirling ectoplasm that littered the Zone. He was bored. The Ghost Zone was a neat place, but he felt hed done all the exploring he could, and he wished something new would happen.

Luckily or unluckily, something did. Not very far, a spark of light appeared. Phantom raised his eyebrows curiously and approached it, but it disappeared. Weird. He floated to the spot where it had been.

Big mistake. The spark reappeared, except it was less of a spark and more of an explosion this time. Electricity burst through Phantom's form and fried him from the inside out. He screamed. His surroundings melted into nothing, and at some point, he thought he heard his scream mix with someone else's. His molecules were split apart, and he felt his consciousness go somewhere else, some body that was not his own.

And then he felt heavy.

Phantom gasped and jolted awake. He blinked several times, his brain filled with confusion. He wasn't in the Ghost Zone. He was still trapped in the human realm, so what was up with that vision?

Oh, he thought, remembering what Nocturne had told him about visions that humans saw in their sleep. That was a dream.

From what hed heard about dreams, they rarely ever made sense. This one did, though. He was certain that was a memory of what brought him here.

A lot of good remembering did him, though.

Phantom looked over the room he was in, which he didn't get a chance to do previously. It was too dark to see clearly, which was frustrating, because darkness had never impeded his vision when he was a ghost. Although, the soft light coming through the window was enough to let him make out a few things in the room, like the various models of what he recognized had been described to him as spaceships, and posters of what he heard were called stars.

There was also a mirror in the room. Phantom rose from the bed, and he noticed that the pain had blessedly subsided, although he still felt heavy. Stupid gravity. He managed to stand on his own after a few minutes of nearly falling off balance, then shuffled his way to the mirror.

Shit, he thought, because even though he knew he was in someone else's body, he never had a chance to actually see it before now. The boy he was inside had black hair and blue eyes, which he remembered were the same colors as that large man in orange had. This body was smaller, though, more similar in structure to the woman. That damned black hair kept falling in front of his eyes. He looked around as young as those two humans who first greeted him, which was also around the age Phantom (as a ghost) usually appeared, although he never kept count of how many years exactly that was. Not like keeping count of years was easy inside a dimension where there was no sun.

While Phantom was busy despairing over the frail body he was trapped inside, an object in the room fell with a sudden crash. Phantom jumped a foot in the air. For Pariah's sake, why was he so jumpy in this body?

He turned around and jumped yet again as he noticed the green glow that had fallen all over the room. A few objects started floating on their own, including the bedside clock that was knocked onto the floor before.

If Phantom were a regular human, he probably would have shitted himself. But Phantom was not. Instead, his face split into a relieved smile, and he opened up his arms and exclaimed, "Thank Clockwork! A ghost! You have to help me."

The floating objects paused, as if they were put off by Phantom's weirdly positive outburst. Then they fell back to their original places, and the glow gathered into a certain spot in the room until they formed a person.

Phantom frowned and tilted his borrowed head. The ghost that appeared before him looked familiar. Just as he was wondering why, he realized: it was the same image he had just seen in the mirror, only with inverted colors, so that he had white hair instead of black, grayish-blue skin instead of pink, and ectoplasmic green eyes instead of blue.

"You're Danny," Phantom said. Then he slapped a fist on an open palm and said, "Ohhhh, so that's why I couldn't return control to you! You're dead."

The ghost, who was indeed dead Danny Fenton, stiffened and yelled, "I'm not dead!"

"You're a ghost," Phantom said, gesturing to Danny's floating, glowing form. "I'm pretty sure that means you're dead."

Danny pursed his lips. Then he grabbed Phantom by the collar and repeated, "I'm not dead, because my living body is right here, and I would kindly like you to give it back."

Phantom chuckled and slowly raised a finger. "Um, about that..."

Danny's glare was intense. Phantom didn't think he could be a very strong ghost, considering how recent his death was, but he didn't have any powers to protect himself anymore, so he shrunk warily under his eyes.

"What about that? Give me back my body."

"Yeah, um, I'm kind of, stuck?" Phantom informed him.

"Stuck?" He shook his head rapidly and said, "Quit joking around! Let me get back in my body, or I'll get my parents to beat your ghostly ass."

Phantom paused, because he heard Danny's voice falter at the end. The hands grapping him were shaking. He realized Danny must be afraid.

"It's okay," he spoke soothingly, trying to pat his shoulder reassuringly. "You just died, I'm sure that's--"

"I'm not dead!" Danny screamed and threw him to the ground. Ow, ow ow, stupid human body that feels pain.

Phantom tried to get up and reason with him again, but then the door opened. Danny's mom was there, holding the gun from before.

Danny turned around, and he widened his eyes and smiled. "Mom--"

But the woman didn't hear him. She crossed the room in a few bounds and formed a barrier with her body between Phantom and Danny, except, well...she was protecting the wrong one.

"Leave my son alone, you ghost," she spat at Danny, aiming her weapon at him while Phantom lay behind her back.

"What?" Danny's smile fell, and he stared at her and said, "But that's not--"

He didn't have a chance to complete his sentence before she shot him. A ray hit him right in the chest, pushing him back and slamming him against the wall. When he looked up again, her stern expression didn't change, and her weapon did not lower.

Fuck, thought Phantom, and he pulled himself up behind her. "Miss, um, Mom--"

"Don't worry, Danny," she said over her shoulder. "Mommy's gonna take care of this nasty specter."

She powered up the gun again, causing Danny (the real one) to flinch. "Please, listen to me..."

She did not. When she pulled the trigger once more, Phantom saw one last heartbroken look in the ghost's eyes before he phased through the wall and fled from his mother.

Danny's mom blew on the gun and flipped her hair. "See? That ghost was no problem."

Phantom picked his jaw up and looked at her. "Why did you shoot at him?"

She frowned. "Because he was a ghost, of course. You can never trust a ghost."

"Why not?"

She looked like he had just asked her the dumbest question on the planet. "Because they're evil. Malicious. Violent."

"That's not true," Phantom said, truthfully feeling a little offended.

Danny's mom only laughed and patted his head. "I'm sorry, who is the ghost expert here? Me or you?" She smiled at him and said, "Don't worry, I'll protect you from any ghost that tries to harm you."

Phantom would have argued further, but the resolution in her voice scared him a little. For the first time, he found himself grateful for being in Danny's body, because he wasn't sure what she would have done to him if she saw him as a ghost.

"Come on, go back to bed. There's still a couple of hours left before morning," she told him, guiding him back to Danny's bed. After he was settled in, she started to leave the room, but he stopped her by asking, "Wait...did you add anything to your gun?"

She smiled at him and said, "Nope. I told you it works on ghosts."

"Oh," he said, feeling his stomach organ churn.

Danny's mom left, only pausing at the doorway to tell him, "Good night, sleep tight, and don't let the bad ghosts bite."

Phantom lay in bed for a long time, but he didn't sleep. He stared down at Danny's hand...at his hand.

Danny was dead, and he was fully human, which meant this body was now his.

That thought burned in his mind until the light from out the window grew brighter, and the alarm clock beeped from its fallen spot on the floor.

Jazz knocked on his door. "Oh, good, you're awake," she said. She grumbled something inaudible then told him, "Mom and Dad want you to go to school."

Phantom hesitated. "...School?"

"I know," she said with a huff. She rolled her eyes and said in a mimicking tone, "It doesn't matter if you got into an accident that almost killed you and made you lose your memory! As long as you can walk, you can walk to school." She shook her head then asked, "Are you feeling better, at least?"

"Um," Phantom said, "define 'better'."

"Whatever. I'll drive you to school." And she left.

Phantom stayed in bed for several moments while the alarm continued to beep sadly. And then...he felt his bladder act up. He knew, from talking to ghosts who were humans, what this meant.

"Fuck," he muttered. "I have to pee."

.

After wandering around the top floor of the house, he finally found what he was pretty sure was called the bathroom. Figuring out the mechanics of the toilet and the faucet were easy enough, as well as the mehcanics of the actual peeing itself. He tried not to look at Danny's private parts while he did his business...even though he wasn't sure how long he would be spending in this body.

He went downstairs, which was difficult for someone who spent most of his existence flying, but he reached the bottom safely and found Danny's family sitting around a table with some stuff on it.

As he watched, Jazz scooped up a spoonful of the stuff inside her bowl, and she stuffed it into her mouth and chewed. Oh, so it was food.

Jazz caught him staring and asked, "Well? Are you going to eat?"

"Oh," he said. That's right, didn't humans need to eat to survive? He sat at the table, across from Jazz.

Phantom looked at the bowl in front of Jazz and noticed it was filled with a white liquid with pieces of multicolored circles swimming in it. He turned his attention to the jug that held the same white liquid, the box with a cartoon toucan on it that he guessed held the small circles, and the empty bowl in front of him. Well, he could put two and two together, and in no time he poured himself a bowl of milk and cereal and brought a spoonful to his mouth.

Holy Unworld! That tasted great. I mean, food did exist in the Ghost Zone for those who missed eating, but it all had the same acidic taste of ectoplasm. This was different. It was tooth-rottingly sweet.

Jazz raised an eyebrow at his dreamy expression. "You look like you're enjoying your Froot Loops."

"Froot Loops," he repeated the name. "We didn't have this in the Ghost Zone." Or maybe they did, but it wouldn't have tasted the same.

Jazz lowered her spoon and frowned. "Ghosts. Are you still going on about that?"

Phantom stopped chewing. He cast his eyes downward and twirled the spoon in his bowl. "I'm right," he said. "You were wrong about the fake memory stuff."

"Oh really?" she said, sounding like she didn't believe him. "Why is that?"

Phantom opened his mouth to speak, but his words died when he noticed Danny's mom. She had her back on them and was washing the dishes, but he thought he saw her tilt her ear toward them. Had she been listening?

"It's fine," Jazz sighed. "We'll talk about it after school. We're going to be late."

Phantom nodded and finished his Froot Loops, happy not to talk. Not with the ghost hunter in the room.

After the breakfast was drained, Jazz made for the door. Phantom followed her, but she blocked him with a hand and raised an eyebrow at his clothes. "You're not going to school in pyjamas, are you?"

Phantom glanced down at himself and saw that he was still wearing the same soft clothes he had slept in. "Uhh..."

Jazz rolled her eyes. "Go change clothes."

"Right," Phantom said and went back to Danny's room.

Honestly, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to wear. Ghosts didn't have different clothes for different occasions (most of them spent their entire existence in the same set of clothes--either whatever they had died in, or if they were born in the Zone like Phantom was, then whatever they thought made them look scarier), and the Fentons weren't exactly a good example of what humans normally wear.

As he rummaged through Danny's stuff, he came across a photograph. It showed Danny with those two friends of his--the ones who greeted Phantom when he first woke up. The trio stood in a grassy park, smiling, their arms linked together.

Phantom was filled with guilt as he thought back to Danny's ghost, begging him for his body back. If only he knew how to do that. He set the photo aside, but at least it helped him in one thing: the three teenagers were wearing regular clothes. He managed to find some clothes that matched the ones Danny wore in the picture, and when he returned downstairs, he was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a red-and-white T-shirt.

Jazz was waiting for him. The two teens walked outside and entered her car, a small convertible. He sat in the passenger seat and copied what Jazz did to strap her seatbelt, but his mind was still thinking about that photo of Danny he found. After a moment's hesitation, he said, "I saw him."

Jazz's hand stopped in the middle of turning the key in the ignition. "Saw who?"

"Danny," he told her.

Jazz pursed her lips. She started the car and drove. "If you saw him, then where is he now?"

"Your mom shot at him."

"What?"

"He's a ghost. I don't think she recognized him, but...well, he's dead."

Phantom finally learned what the seatbelt's function was when he lurched forward as Jazz suddenly stopped the car. She gripped the wheel in tight fists and breathed through flared nostrils. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't say that," she pleaded. "It was bad enough when I thought you... I thought you might die. But you didn't. You're alive."

Phantom felt guilt gnaw at him from hearing Jazz. What could he tell her other than Actually, your brother did die, oops haha, sorry?

Jazz took in a deep breath, then she kept driving like nothing happened. Phantom stayed quiet.

Eventually, the car stopped, and Jazz unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out. Phantom looked at the building they arrived at. Numerous humans around his general age were either milling about or going inside.

School. He never went to one himself, but he heard some stories from Sidney. They weren't nice stories.

Phantom gulped and exited the car. No sooner had he done that than he noticed the two teens rushing toward him.

"Danny!" that girl from last night said. What was her name...Sam. She hesitated and asked, "Do you...remember us?"

"You mean to ask if Danny is back," Phantom told her. That gave her the answer she needed, and she deflated.

Tucker glanced between them, then hooked his arm around Phantom's shoulder and said, "Hey, if you're amnesiac, you need someone to guide you through school again, right?"

"I'm not..." He sighed. Then he eyed the building warily and asked, "Are there bullies?"

"Oh, definitely," Tucker answered, which made his stomach sink.

His time at school actually went by pretty smoothly. He had wondered if anyone would notice that he wasn't Danny, but nobody paid him much attention, not even the teachers. He managed to breeze by two subjects already--one was math, which was admittedly gibberish to him, but Tucker told him no one understood it anyway. The second one he knew better--English literature. He had visited Ghostwriter's library a bunch of times in the Zone and knew about Lord of the Flies when the teacher asked him about it.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't remember your name, but you remember reading a class assignment?"

Phantom almost screamed out "I'm not Danny" again, but he held himself back. He knew they would never believe him, not unless...

"Look, Sam, Tucker," he said nervously. He wasn't sure if they would react the same way Jazz did, but considering how close friends they were, then they probably would. The two waited for him expectantly while he tried to pick out the right words. "Danny...your friend...he's--"

"Hey, Fentina!" a sharp voice interrupted him.

"Oh bother," Sam grumbled.

Confused, Phantom turned around to the source of the voice. What greeted him was a tall and muscular blonde human in a letterman's jacket, sneering down at him. "I didn't see you at the beginning of the school day. I think we have some beating to catch up on," he taunted and slammed a fist into his palm.

"Oh," Phantom said numbly. "You're a bully."

The blonde released a laugh that sounded like a pig getting choked. "Me, a bully? More like you're a loser who deserves to get bullied."

"That...makes no sense."

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because blonde dude's face turned beet red, and he picked up Phantom by the collar and slammed him into a row of lockers. At this point, pain was becoming a constant in Phantom's new, stolen life.

"Lay off, Dash," Sam snapped at him.

"You lay off, Manson," Dash bit back. "I'm only interested in Fenturd here."

"I hear you mispronouncing Fenton a lot," Phantom said in spite of his nerves. "It's really not that hard a name to memorize."

Dash's face turned an even deeper shade of red, and he punched Phantom in the face. All Phantom could think was, Man, Danny would not be happy if he found out I broke his face. Then Dash opened a random locker and stuffed him inside.

"Have fun, FenTON," he yelled at him and slammed the locker door shut.

This was fine. Phantom could handle being trapped inside a tight space with no intangibility to bail him out. I mean, he was already trapped inside this body, wasn't he? Haha.

But after the first few minutes passed, he grew nervous. There was no way he would be left here forever, right? Oh, Ancients, he was going to die just like Sidney, alone in a school locker.

Apparently, that was not to be, because suddenly the air inside the locker grew colder. A soft green glow washed over it, and Phantom felt two cold hands grip his arms. A tingle ran across him. He recognized the sensation: intangibility. The arms pulled, and he was tugged through the locker wall and brought face to face with none other than Danny.

Phantom blinked. "You again."

Danny scowled. "You're still in my body."

"Well, yeah," Phantom said simply. "If I left, it would die."

Danny pulled him closer so he can feel his glare more intensely, probably. Phantom felt it all right, and he squinted his eyes because dear Clockwork, were ghost eyes always this bright?

"I asked you before, and I'm asking you again," Danny growled. "Give me back my body."

"And I already told you, I can't," Phantom retorted.

"Why not? It's mine!" His grip on Phantom's arms were tight now. "I can't live as a ghost!"

"I mean, technically you wouldn't really be living because--"

"I'm not dead!" Danny denied. "I can't...I can't be..."

His grip on Phantom felt weak now. His eyes were dimmer.

Phantom gulped and hesitantly patted Danny's arm in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "Hey, it's fine. Lots of ghosts I know went through a crisis when they died."

"Did they have parents who wanted to hunt them down?" Danny asked softly. Phantom paused and didn't know how to respond.

Well, they were alone, at least. The hallway was empty except for the two of them, and he had a feeling that whatever teacher he had would be wondering where Danny Fenton was. He wasn't sure if this fact was a good thing or a bad thing, because then Sam and Tucker would not see proof of their friend being dead, and he wasn't sure if that knowledge was good or bad.

"No," Danny said, snapping Phantom out of his thoughts. "No. I'm not going to stay like this while you live my life."

"But I already told you..." Phantom began, but Danny's eyes returned their brightness, and he stared directly at Phantom.

"I'm a ghost. I can possess stuff, right?"

Phantom's eyes widened, and that was all the answer Danny needed before he overshadowed him.

A minute later, the bell rung, and students filed out of classrooms. He heard footsteps approach him and turned around to see his friends.

"Thank god, you made it out!" Tucker said once he saw him. "I swear, I told Lancer that Dash stuffed you in a locker again, but he didn't believe me..." He trailed off and pointed out, "Your eyes are green."

"They are?" Danny asked. "Huh, that's weird. I'm not surprised about Mr. Lancer, though."

"Um, didn't you technically only meet him today or something?"

"Today? I wish," Danny said, rolling his green eyes. "That guy's been following our class since third grade."

Tucker gaped. "You remember?"

"Third grade? Unfortunately."

Sam was staring. She stepped forward. "Danny?" she slowly asked.

Danny grinned. "Hey, Sam."

She laughed and hugged him. "You're back! How?"

Danny shrugged. "Come on, you can't expect me to forget you forever, can you?"

Sam and Tucker smiled. Danny smiled. In the back of Danny's head, Phantom mentally frowned.

.

The day passed. Danny was back. He took his classes as always. He got bullied by Dash as always, but that didnt bother him much. Funny how small things become once you've literally died.

Not. Danny didn't die. He told himself that.

More than once, he felt a hand twitch on its own. He sent a mental frown to Phantom and told him, Why won't you leave already?

Dude, how many times do I have to explain to you that I can't?

But I'm in my own body now.

Temporarily. Overshadowing someone isn't the same as taking their body.

Danny tuned him out and continued with his day.

There was a price, however. Phantom tried to warn him, but he got ignored. As the day went by, Danny felt himself grow exhausted at an awfully quick pace.

Tucker noticed first. "Are you okay? You're breathing heavily, and it's not even P.E. yet."

"I'm fine," Danny panted, but he didn't look that way. His skin was pale and covered with sweat.

"No, you're not," Sam said with a frown. "It's the portal--you shouldn't be walking around school after a near-death accident like that."

"I'm not dead!" Danny snapped, shocking his friends with his sudden volume. He faltered. "I mean...I need to go use the bathroom."

They let him go, though their eyes followed his back as he left. He entered the nearest restroom he found and immediately splashed his face with water.

You should stop overshadowing me, Phantom suggested.

Danny scowled. He gripped the sink to steady his shaking hands. "I'm not overshadowing anyone. This is my body."

I'm not saying it's not, but right now, you're a ghost. Prolonged overshadowing isn't healthy.

Danny gritted his teeth. "So, what? I let you steal my life again?"

It's just until we can figure out how to switch us back, Phantom said, but Danny could tell when he lied.

"You don't think we can be switched back, can you?"

Phantom hesitated. Luckily for him, he didn't need to think of a reply--just then, Danny shivered, and a blue mist escaped from his mouth.

Danny frowned. "What was that?"

Oh no, Phantom thought.

Suddenly, a shrill voice cried out, "Trespasser!" Danny jumped and whipped around to face whoever spoke. He squinted his eyes and said, "Who the fuck?"

The speaker would have looked like a regular scrawny freshman, except his skin was gray and transparent, and his torso was sticking halfway through a closed bathroom stall. It was a ghost, obviously.

Truthfully, Danny was almost disappointed in how un-scary he seemed. As a child, he had nightmares about ghosts from the stories his parents told him, but the specter in front of him was far from intimidating. He looked like one of the geeks that Dash and his gang would have picked on if he were alive.

The ghost pointed a finger at Danny and repeated in his nasally voice, "Trespasser! This is my haunt."

Danny eyed the row of empty stalls and asked, "You mean the restroom?"

"Yes! I died in this place, and I chose to make it my haunt instead of going to the Ghost Zone. I don't need another ghost like you to take it from me!"

"Okay, Moaning Myrtle, calm down," Danny spoke. "Why would I even want to steal a restroom? Also, what do you mean by calling me a ghost?"

The ghost left his stall and floated over Danny with a scowl. "I'm not stupid. I can tell when a ghost is overshadowing someone. And if you would steal a body, then you would steal a haunt."

Danny bristled. "I didn't steal this body! It was mine in the first place."

"Oh, sure, and I bet you're going to say this haunt has always been yours!"

"I'm not interested in your fucking water closet!" Danny bit back. "And this body is mine! I was born in it. I lived in it. I...it can't belong to anyone else."

The ghost narrowed his eyes. Then he said, "You're a nasty ass liar, you know that?"

"I'm not lying!"

"Whatever! You're clearly overshadowing a human, and you're clearly still standing inside my haunt, so..."

Um, maybe you should leave the bathroom, Phantom suggested. But Danny stood his ground, glaring at the ghost with his fists by his side. He was tired of this--tired of his death being pointed out to him.

"What are you going to do about it, huh? Give me a swirly?" he gibed.

The ghost's expression darkened. He raised his arm, and several stalls began to rumble. Danny faltered, and his anger melted into apprehension.

Run, Phantom said. This time, Danny decided it was a good idea to listen.

He managed to make it halfway to the exit when all the stalls suddenly exploded. Jets of slightly glowing water burst forth and hit Danny in the back, pushing him the rest of the way out and also drenching him completely.

He sluggishly picked himself off the wet floor. When he glanced to his side, he saw Kwan pausing mid-step. "...I'll just use the restroom on the second floor," Kwan said, turned a 180 and left.

Danny flipped himself over and faced the ghost floating in the restroom's doorway. "I left your stupid washroom alone, so can you leave?" he barked.

"But how do I know you won't come back?" the ghost challenged. "And you're still overshadowing the poor human."

Danny laughed mirthlessly. "Poor human?"

The ghost didn't seem to understand the irony in that. He tackled Danny, phasing the both of them through the wall and into the adjacent hallway.

A few stragglers were still idling in the hallway when they burst in. At the sudden sight of the ghost, most of them screamed and scrambled away. Only a few stayed behind: some redheaded human in a basketball shirt, and Danny's friends, Sam and Tucker.

"Danny!" Sam called out and ran to his side. Tucker froze in place. He lifted a shaky finger at the toilet ghost and stammered, "That's a g-ghost."

The toilet ghost floated away from Danny and crossed his arms. "Yeah, duh," he replied. "I'm not the only one, though."

Tucker was about to ask him what he meant by that, but then Danny began to heave. Sam hovered over him worriedly, but even she had to step away when his coughing became intense. He lurched over--then coughed himself out of his body.

Ghost Danny popped out and landed on the floor. Behind him, Phantom sighed and fell onto his side.

Sam gaped and stared between them, her mouth forming wordless questions, before she gulped and said to Danny, "Phantom?"

Danny frowned and said, "No, I'm Danny! He's Phantom." He pointed at the person inside his human body.

Sam chuckled weakly. "I think you must be confused. He's Danny, because he's a human. And you're Phantom, because youre a g..."

"He's right," Phantom interrupted from his spot on the floor. He pushed himself up, still panting heavily, and said, "That's what I've been trying to tell you. I'm not Danny. He is."

Sam stared at him, then back at Danny. "But...but that would mean--" She trailed off, and her face turned pale.

Whatever heartfelt conversation might have followed was cut off by another splash of water aimed at Danny. He growled and turned on the toilet ghost. "Will you go already?"

The ghost's fists were surrounded by swirling water (which Danny really hoped was clean). He shook his head and barked at him, "Not until you leave this school."

"The school? I thought your haunt was only the restroom."

"It was! But then you made fun of it, so I've decided to make this entire building my territory!"

He shot another beam of water at Danny. Danny grinded his teeth and wished the water would stop in mid-air...and to his surprise, it did. A transparent green shield suddenly appeared in front of him, blocking the water and keeping him dry. Danny blinked and floated back in surprise, and the shield dissapeared.

Phantom was watching him with interest. When the shield disappeared, he called out to Danny and told him, "Use your ghost rays!"

"My what?" was Danny's response right before another jet of water came at him. This time, he didn't summon an ecto-shield in time, and he got slammed back against a row of lockers. As he picked himself up, he noticed that redhead from earlier, who had been staring, trembling, as the whole encounter went down. Ah, fuck, what was his name again? He was in Danny's P.E. class. The poor boy was shivering like a leaf, which made sense--Danny would have done the same if he saw a real ghost when he was still human.

The toilet ghost approached Danny, but stopped and scowled at the redhead. "Leave, human," he ordered. "This doesn't involve you."

The guy (His name started with a W, Danny remembered. Walt? Wes?) stared at the ghost for a moment, then hurriedly nodded and ran. That left the ghost flying in front of Danny.

"Your ghost ray!" Phantom repeated from behind the toilet ghost, as if that would make Danny understand what he was saying. "Just think about shooting him with your hands!"

Shooting him...with his hands? That made no sense, but Danny did as he was told. He made a finger gun and aimed it at the ghost, then imagined a pew! pew! come out.

Pew! came out the ray and shot the ghost right at his chest.

The opponent had only time to widen his eyes before he was slammed against the opposite wall and dissolved into (grossly) glowing water.

Danny slowly blinked. "...Functioning fingerguns," he said. "That's useful."

"What the actual fuck, dude?"

He turned and saw Tucker approach him, wearing a bewildered expression. He gestured wildly to Danny and said, "You're a ghost now? And your body is conscious on its own?"

"Actually, it's conscious because a ghost is inside," he replied, not-so-subtly glaring at Phantom as he said so.

Phantom threw his (or Danny's...whatever) arms up and said, "I didn't choose to be stuck in your body, okay? It was an accident."

Tucker rubbed his forehead. "I still don't understand. How is all this happenning?"

Before either Danny could speak, Sam's voice suddenly cut through and said, "I killed you."

Danny stared at Sam. She was hugging her arms, eyes downcast, and still looked pale as a sheet. "You're a ghost," she said softly. "That means you've died. And I killed you."

Danny felt that same tightness in his chest, not exactly squeezing any heart, but something similar. "I'm not dead," he tried again, but after repeating that sentence so many times, the lie sounded weak even to himself.

Phantom sent him a pitying gaze. Sam bit her lips and squeezed herself tighter. "Yes, you are. It was the portal accident. Somehow, you died and got replaced by...whoever this is." She gestured weakly to Phantom, then choked up and continued in a wavering voice, "It was my fault. I told you to go inside that portal. You're--you're dead, because of me. I killed you."

Seeing her like that, hearing her, made any sorry feelings Danny had for himself disappear. All he cared about was wiping that melancholy from his friend's eyes. "No," he told her firmly. "It wasn't your fault. I agreed. I--" A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed it down before saying, "I'm dead because of my own fault."

He could feel Phantom's eyes boring into him. Probably, that ghost (ex-ghost?) was thinking something along the lines of Fucking finally! You admit it to yourself at last, but the emotional intensity of the situation was likely what prevented him from voicing that thought out loud.

Sam raised her eyes and met his sadly. Tucker stepped forward, his brows drawn together. "But...but that can't be it!" he protested. He grabbed Phantom's arm and pointed out, "Your body is still alive, isn't it? Can't we...I dont know...redo the accident so it gets you back in your body the same way Phantom got inside yours?"

Danny perked up and felt a sliver of hope grow inside him, but Phantom was quick to shake his head and say, "That won't be so easy. The Ghost Zone is always shifting. Whatever spot I was in when the portal thing happened, it won't be the same place for Danny."

"Oh," Tucker said, deflating. His eyes turned downcast, and his hands fell limply off Phantom's arm. "I guess it can be it, then."

Phantom looked at the trio of friends, their broken expressions. He honestly didn't see what the big fuss was about, but he hated seeing them so sad, so he hurriedly added in a forcefully positive tone, "That's okay, though! Difficult doesn't have to mean impossible! I'm sure we can...uh..."

He trailed off after spotting a person at the end of the hallway. Confused, Danny turned to see who he was looking at. He found his sister, slack-jawed, her eyes darting between him and Phantom.

"Jazz!" he said, then looked down and noticed his ghostly appearance. "Um, I can explain."

Jazz didn't leave him room to, because she promptly fainted.

Danny rushed forward to grab her, but of course, she fell right through his arms. He winced when she hit her face on the hard floor. Tucker came forward and checked her.

"She's fine," he said with a cross between a smile and a grimace.

.

Jazz's eyes fluttered awake. She groaned and turned her head to the side. On the wall next to her was a silly cartoon infographic of flu symptoms. It took her mind a minute to recognize it, but she was at the school infirmary.

"You're awake?" asked a voice nearby. She turned her head to the other side and saw her brother's face.

"Danny..." She frowned and sat up on the infirmary bed. Her face hurt. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

Jazz tried to recall what brought her here. She remembered seeing seeing Danny, and...ghost Danny? She shook her head. "Must have been a dream," she mumbled.

"What?"

She saw Danny watching her curiously. She sighed and ran a hand across her face, which still ached for some reason. "I remember seeing you standing next to your ghost. I think you might have...died. But that couldn't have been possible."

"You think that was a dream."

Danny's expression was unreadable. Jazz frowned. "It had to be. Ghosts aren't real." Mentally, she added, I hope not.

Danny averted his eyes from her. She wondered if she said something wrong, but then Danny stood up from his chair and said, "You slipped and hit your face, so we brought you to the school nurse. You need some rest...I'll leave you alone."

It sounded reasonable enough, but something nagged at her. Danny wouldn't meet her eyes, instead choosing to fidget with the hem of his shirt. She had a feeling he was lying.

"Danny," she called. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Her brother stiffened. It looked like he was about to say something, but he must have changed his mind at the last minute because he left the room wordlessly.

.

Phantom exited the school infirmary. "She's okay," he told the air.

Danny visualized in front of him, wearing a frown. "I heard what went down. She thinks it wasn't real."

Phantom shrugged. He felt a little bad, but he wasn't sure he could handle her reaction if he told her that her brother was really dead...again. The first time he tried didn't go so cheerfully.

"Where are your friends?" Phantom asked, choosing to change the subject.

"You mean Sam and Tuck? What do you think?" He chuckled humorlessly, then gazed at his boots and murmured, "They just discovered that ghosts exist and their friend is dead. Of course they needed some time to process that."

Phantom bit his lip. "We'll find some way to switch us back. Maybe."

That "maybe" didn't sound so reassuring, and Danny didn't look reassured. Phantom grimaced and tried to think of a better way to lift his spirits, but then he heard footsteps approach. Danny made himself invisible while Phantom turned around and saw a familiar couple in orange and teal come toward them.

"Danno!" Danny's dad greeted him. "The school called--is Jazzy-pants alright?"

"She's fine," Phantom said with a steady voice. "She just had some low blood sugar is all."

The man patted his shoulder, then entered the room where Jazz was held. His wife went to follow him, but Phantom stopped her by calling, "Uh...Mom."

She spun to him and smiled. "What is it, sweetie?"

Phantom hesitated. He fidgeted with his shirt and asked, "Did you really mean what you said last night--about all ghosts being bad?"

The woman frowned. "Of course I did. Was I wrong?"

"It's just, well..." He focused on a random locker and said, "What if your son...I mean, what if I became a ghost? What would you do to me then?"

He braved a glance at her and saw a shadow cross her expression. She hesitated for a moment before replying carefully, "I don't like to think about that. I choose to believe that when you die, it won't be violent. I'll make sure of that." She forced a smile, then ruffled Phantom's hair and added, "But that doesn't matter right now. You're still alive and human. As long as you're with me, then I know that any ghost who looks like you is an imposter."

Phantom's stomach sank, and he swallowed down a lump that formed in his throat. Danny's mom only smiled at him once more before she followed her husband to see Jazz.

Danny didn't reappear. Phantom didn't see him for the rest of the day. But in that moment, he thought he heard a choked sob come from the air behind him.

[mystery-deer]

Nuclear (b99 kevin/holt)

The phone call from Debbie came deep into the afternoon. It was a dismal day and rained for the better portion of it, the kind of rain that didn’t dissipate only waxed and waned.

“I’m pregnant Raymond!” She exclaimed happily. He could hear her pacing around her house, picking things up and putting them down again like she always did when talking on the phone. He remembered she almost choked him with the cord doing that. “My senses are so strong I threw up because I saw someone ELSE eating relish on a hotdog!” She continued.

Raymond shuddered. RELISH on a hotdog? It was one of the only preferences they had in common. He could recall (though he didn’t at that moment) a great many family barbeques and picnics where they’d be offered the accursed condiment and both pulled faces their mother chastised them for. “Is senses heightening a part of pregnancy?”

“Hell yeah it is!” She declared.

“Ah, I see.” He nodded, sure she must be an expert in the matter. “Well, I’m very happy for you. Please keep me updated.”

As he hung up he heard the door open and his fiancee step in. The moment they'd gotten the house it was decided that they were fiancees. “There’s no legal way to prevent us from being engaged to be married.” Kevin had stated simply, ever the romantic.

“Who was that?” He asked, shrugging off his soaked coat and slipping his shoes off at the door. He looked like a drowned rat when he was wet, his thin hair sticking to his paler-than-average forehead. He would often bemoan how 'perfect' Raymond could look even after being in the rain or having just taken a shower.

Raymond smiled, feeling fond of him. As an afterthought he said, “My sister, she’s pregnant.”

How wonderful!” Kevin said, voice lilting slightly. Raymond honestly couldn’t understand why people said it was monotonous. It had so many soft depths to it, the slight upturn when he was especially pleased by a piece of news never failed to warm his heart.

“Every pregnancy is not good news.” He said suddenly, surprised as he had not planned to say it. “People often default to saying that but there are plenty of instances in which a pregnancy is cause for alarm and panic.”

Kevin nodded and shook out his umbrella. “I see. Good news for her and not for you?” He asked, hitting the nail on the head.

Raymond looked at the nail and did not recognize it as his own. “I’m not- I am perfectly...fine. With the information.” Kevin silently communicated his doubt at this, setting his umbrella out to dry. “It’s not that I’m upset, I just feel...odd.”

Kevin kissed his fiancee’s temple and placed an extremely cold and wet hand on the back of his neck, making him jump. “Please feel free to collect your thoughts while I make us tea, it’s pouring and I know you neglected to take your umbrella.”

“The weatherman did not indicate it would rain.” Raymond protested. He had had to throw his entire outfit in the dryer and change into pajamas despite it not being nighttime. He deserved it, it was his day off.

“I told you it would.”

“You are not the weatherman. Speaking of which, the deli counter clerk referred to me as ‘the rain man’ today when I went in.”

“Which one, Rodrigo?” Kevin asked. He did not like Rodrigo the deli counter clerk. Rodrigo had once, when Kevin ordered a sausage, winked at him and chuckled a notably slurred "right on man!”

“Yes.” Raymond had had no such interactions with Rodrigo.

“I see.”

“It’s a movie.” Raymond clarified for him, thinking that the source of Kevin’s frustration. “I believe the main character has the same name as me.”

“I’m aware.” Kevin remarked, opening the cabinets and taking out their favorite mugs. He was certain Raymond would deny having a favorite mug in front of company but Kevin had noted that he would only use other mugs if that particular one was not available. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, a bluish gray. “Oh, I got your text and I bought more honey.”

“Bought more what?” “More-” Kevin turned to see his fiancee raising an eyebrow slyly and smiled, that was his Raymond. Always playing jokes on him.

“Very funny.” He said, meaning it. Raymond smiled as well and went to retrieve the bear-shaped bottle along with several other items he had realized he’d forgotten after coming home from his errands. And he certainly had no intention of going back out in that veritable storm, he had on his pajamas for chrissake.

“I don’t understand why you buy this brand and not the honey with the normal container.” He said, putting the bear down on the counter as Kevin filled the kettle.

“It’s cute.” He replied. “If you think it’s cute why would you purchase it? You’re meant to drain the honey from it. It is morbid and the same reason why I am against latte art.” “I know your stance on latte art intimately.”

(Flashback: The two of them in a Parisian inspired cafe of Kevin’s choosing, both of them in suits, Raymond’s sleeves rolled up because of the rant he’s worked himself into though he’s not yelling. It's a private quasi argument between the two of them. Kevin is drinking from his cup and Raymond's lays untouched on the table.

“I’m just saying it’s fiendish! It’s undrinkable!” “Because of Mr.Cuddlesworth?” “Don’t give it a name for chrissake!” “He’s delicious Raymond try him.” “You’re a monster.”

Flashback ends.)

“I still can’t believe you drank him.” “You’re adorable.” _______________

They had tea a few minutes later, sitting in their living room and watching the fire. Kevin had prepared it and Raymond had remarked that it made the home feel rustic.

“Rustic?” Kevin asked in disbelief, smiling for a moment. “City boy.” “You’re a city boy too now.” He pointed out. Kevin stood and clapped his hands off. “I’ll carry the scars of suburbia in my heart always.”

They sat in silence for the time it took to finish their drinks and they savored the time spent together more than the taste of honey.

“Kevin, do you want children?”

Kevin turned to look at his fiancee, startled by the question. He was staring down into his mug at the leaves left over. “Children?” He asked. “As in having children of our own?”

“Yes.” Raymond said, narrowing his eyes slightly to express his extreme confusion. “Was I unclear?”

Kevin turned to look at the fire and then up at the art hanging above it that was evocative of a starry sky. They'd bought it to christen the house and he remembered the moment vividly. “We can’t have children Raymond.” He paused. “I know some couples adopt - but not AS a couple and even then It’s difficult to adopt as a single parent.”

“I do not have any particular want to have a child.” Raymond admitted. For a brief moment he pictured his mother- looking stoic but clutching her purse so tightly her knuckles paled as the doctor spoke to her in a low consoling tone. “I am far too focused on my job and have never had a want to raise one.”

He pictured Kevin in the hospital when he got shot a few years back. Kevin waiting, hands in his lap, looking stoic except for how they shook there. He told him later that he’d asked at the front desk if Raymond Holt had been admitted and the receptionist peered up at him through horn-rimmed glasses. “Are you family?” She asked.

“I’m-” He’d paused. Thinking of the man he’d seen sitting in a chair near the entrance with a bulls hat and an American flag t-shirt. Hearing a woman by the coffee vending machine talking loudly on her phone, phrases like ‘alternative lifestyle’ and ‘not around my children.’ buzzing in his ears. The room seemed spring-loaded with violence.

“-No. We’re very close friends." He hesitated, voice cracking softly. "We’ve known each other since childhood just...please let me know if there’s any news.” He said and the woman nodded sympathetically because he looked like a wreck. He looked brokenhearted.

Raymond had woken up in his hospital bed alone. Had had to buzz the nurse in four times before she finally got around to fetching him. She kept "forgetting."

He pictured a funeral with not only Kevin but a smaller them- though they couldn’t procreate his imagination supplied a child which was composed of their halves. A mixed boy, brown skin and red hair, crying for his father.

A black boy, brown skin and black hair, holding his baby sister in his arms. Their mother bent at an odd angle, body shaking. It was sunny the day of the funeral and he remembered feeling wrong about it. Debbie couldn’t even talk then - could only babble and repeat if prompted.

Kevin looked relieved. “I must confess I also don’t have any particular want of children.” He said. “They’re fascinating and can be quite adorable but I do not have it in me to raise one.” They were both people who worked long nights. Kevin imagined taking a child to work, leaving them at the daycare (a child could not be trusted to stay quiet in class, even one that was theirs). He would either worry ceaselessly about them or they would grow distant because of the time apart.

He pictured his father- the back of him. He was sitting at his desk at home shifting through medical journals and loose papers. “He’s not to be disturbed.” Said his mother, ushering him away. “Come now.”

He pictured himself, sitting in the study, surrounded by books and grading papers. Saw himself not even noticing his son- an adopted boy who miraculously looked like them, perhaps not in his physical features but in the way he walked and talked and looked at things - lingering at the half open door.

“Come now.” Raymond would say gently, leading him away by the hand. “You will see him when he’s finished.”

“I was thinking of Debbie.” Raymond admitted, though Kevin had already guessed this was the source of their conversation. “I remember when she used to be so...small. It surprised me that she could be pregnant. That she is at the age where being pregnant is a natural thing.”

He remembered her as a child. Both of them in their father’s study. He sat in the middle of the room and watched her run around spinning all of the globes and listing fake facts about wherever they landed. The joy on her face made him want to cry and he hoped she would happy forever. Dust flew around them. He was sure that as she grew she would dim into normalcy but she only grew brighter and brighter.

He remembered her bringing home her future husband, a teacher at that time. He remembered how she shone that day and when she asked "Isn't he just the cutest?" He'd responded "Yes, he has eyelashes." He went into their father's study that day to escape the noise and spun one of the globes lazily with his finger.

“If I were heterosexual would I be married by now? Would I have children?” Raymond and a faceless woman were sitting in the same house - same fire in front of them. A smaller version of him and Debbie were running the background. A child who looked like Kevin sat with his back to them, singing. He felt a weighted sadness settle on him for a moment.

“I don’t want you to feel that you are missing out on some wonderful part of life because you’re with me.” He finished, setting his mug down. The sound transported him back to a night years and years ago. Raymond and Kevin on one end of a dining table and Kevin’s parents on the other. Classical music seeped in through the corners of the memory.

“You’ve done this.” Kevin's father growled, one eye blue with oncoming cataracts. Raymond remembered feeling sorry for him- he was a surgeon after all. “You’ve done this to our son.” And he felt like he’d murdered someone.

("Do not stand at my grave and weep." Kevin's voice read that night, raw with rage and sorrow. "I am not there, I do not sleep.")

He’d told this to Debbie on the phone and she’d succinctly said. “Fuck that old bastard! But I bet you WISH you were good enough to turn a man gay.” And just like that he was innocent again.

“Raymond I don’t feel that I’m sacrificing anything by being with you.” Kevin said. “Even if I was with a woman - and somehow enjoying it - I don’t believe I would want children. I’m perfectly happy with spoiling various nieces and nephews as they pop up.”

They both pictured themselves, older and grayer, in the middle of an intimate but large family. The image was comforting and felt right. They were complete with just the two of them, they didn't need or want anything other than to spend the rest of their lives together.

Raymond smiled, content with this answer and feeling very much the same. He relaxed against his fiancee and hummed in thought.

“What do you think she’ll name the baby?” “Perhaps Dan?” “Yes.” Raymond said, apparently enjoying the thought. “Perhaps.” "Maybe we should get a dog." Kevin suggested and smiled slightly at his fiancee's dismissive snort. "Heaven forbid."

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under a Vanilla Sky prt 47 full draft... gonna leave this on this note and swap to Keith for a continuation

Lance's nerves started to grow as he walked with Shiro and Keith through the palace. Keith was still miffed about not being able to be in the same room as he and Kre'el, while Lance was trying not freak out over the fact that Kre'el could easily divulge all his secrets. It scared him more than each Galra they passed. More than when he'd shamefully screamed at Keith that he'd been raped. More than admitting that he had feelings for Keith and being swept away into a relationship with a man he still felt he wasn't worthy of. Every little thing had his heart racing in fear. His hands clenched as he grit his teeth, not trusting himself to breath through his mouth in case those pancakes ended up on his shoes. Both men at his sides knew he wasn't ok. Shiro said he smelt like dead mouse again, and Keith had growled at him over it, insisting that Lance smelt like rotten fruit. Neither scents appealing, or what he wanted associated with him. To him, he smelt like Keith. He could smell him all over his clothes and skin. He could almost feel his soft lips against his own... But there'd be no Keith in the same room as him. No retreating once he saw Kre'el. The Cuban's throat felt tight, as if the water he'd forced himself to sip while Keith ate, was filled with poisonous thorns that formed with each step closer to Kre'el he came. What did he say to her? "I'm sorry my friends shot you after you nearly killed Keith and I?". "Come here often?", or his personal favourite "Why didn't you ask me for help sooner?". Lance knew losing his temper wouldn't get him anywhere... but she was behind it all... If she was as old as the ship, she'd had thousands of years to change her ways. To find a peaceful way to get what she wanted or needed... Did the fact that she failed to find peace, mean that there'd never be a day when everyone found common ground? The thought was thoroughly depressing. His depression showing in his leaden steps. His whole body tingled with the feeling that this was a horribly horrible idea, and that he'd be absolutely rubbish at "interrogating" her. The room where Kre'el was being held was a converted laboratory. A long double sided window ran along the far length of the room, the space where Keith and Shiro would watch on. Stopping at the guarded door, Lance stumbled back as Veronica came out the room. Holopad in hand, and fierce scowl on her face. Veronica... he absolutely couldn't let her know... stumbling back, he smacked into Shiro's chest "Lance?" Looking up to Shiro, Lance's eyes were silently pleading with the man who wasn't surprised that his sister was there "You never said Veronica would be here..." "That's nice, little brother. We're not letting you be harmed by her" Tugging him away from Shiro, Keith wrapped his arms around Lance as Lance continued to stare at his sister in shock "Shiro, I don't think this is a good idea. It could get... pretty graphic" "Veronica is..." No. Uh uh. If this was happening, it was under his terms. If he had to go in there, have his secrets spilt to the world and be put so far out of his comfort zone that he didn't know where the hell his comfort zone was anymore, he had a right to do this in his own way "No. No. I'll let her die. I'll let her die without asking her a thing. I know you can stick her back in a pod, but if Veronica doesn't leave, then I'm not going in there" Lance's words took him by surprise, yet they summed up how he felt deep down. Veronica pushed her glasses up with her pointer finger "Lance, I'm a professional. Whatever you have to say..." "You're my sister V. You've been my sister since the first time you held me. Remember how it all was before the Galra? You know how bad things got... I don't want you listening to what happened. I don't want you thinking about what could have been prevented. I don't want you listening. Shiro, please. If you and Keith are listening, don't let Veronica listen" Shiro was on the edge of his trust circle. He was trying to let him further, but it was hard to be that way with his "childhood hero-cum-space dad". Veronica was out of the circle after their fight. He wasn't useless and he wasn't a burden. His mami had said so "I'm your sister. I want to be there for you" "You can be there by letting me tell you things in my own time" "In your own time? You have yet to make a statement over what happened out there. Keith made a statement to the Blades, but that was a phoeb and a half after the incident" "It's been two phoebs Veronica! Two! I'm not ready yet!" "You need to do your job" "I have been doing my job! I am doing my job. I know it ended up with a heap of trouble on your end, but you have no idea what it was like, and frankly I pray you never do. Shiro is the Commanding Officer of the Atlas, otherwise I wouldn't have him here either. No offence Shiro. I'm just sure that if you were in my place, you wouldn't want me there" Shiro got it. He dumped the unsure manner, as he rose to the full height of "Commander mode" "Veronica, the plan was for you to stand here and guard the door externally. Kre'el had stipulated that she will only talk to Lance privately. That's why Keith can't be in the room with them. Now. Lance, remember that we can hear you and if anything at all happens, we will intervene. I trust you to handle this. I know you can handle this. You've grown past the age where you need your hand held... That doesn't mean I won't... if you need... or Keith will. I just mean that... you've got this" Giving Shiro a tight smile, he appreciated his words. Keith nuzzled into his neck, pressing a kiss against the curve to his shoulder "Say the word, and we'll get you out" "We don't have a safe word" Lance missed the way Shiro rolled his eyes at them. He hadn't even meant it sexually so he wasn't thinking of it in that way "What about chocolate?" Chocolate could work "What if I forget?" "I'll be watching babe. I know how to read those moods of yours" Lance might have been offended if he wasn't doing everything he could to be brave right now. He'd waited so long for answers, yet now he was so close to them, he didn't know if truly wanted them. Once he knew, he couldn't unknow. Whatever Kre'el had to say, he would carry for the rest of his life "That makes one of us. Now, let's do this. Please. I want this to be over" "Ok, babe. I quiznakking wish I was going in there with you" "I know..." Lance didn't reply with "me too", as he knew Keith wouldn't be able to keep his temper. They needed Kre'el alive long enough to answer everything she could "I'll see you soon" Sitting propped up on the hospital bed, Kre'el's pale maroon form seemed to be paler. The marks on her cheeks glowed so softly they looked as if they'd flicker out of existence completely within doboshes. Swallowing hard, Lance forced his shaking legs over to the visitors chair where sat down on the very edge. He could smell the death rolling off Kre'el. An unsettling scent, kind of like burnt coffee mixed with the sweet scent of rotting meat. Watching as Kre'el's cracked lips parted, Lance still jumped when she spoke "Lance... thank you for coming to see me" "You didn't leave me much choice" Coughing, her breath rattled as she then rasped "I'm sorry. You're the only one who would understand" "I understand that you sold me to your stupid friends. Now two of my friends have to watch me talk to you. Who are you? I thought we friends. I thought of you as a genuine friend, but now I don't even know if Kre'el is your true name. And why... did you have a whole prison ship?" He'd been so close to asking "why me?", but chickened out "It wasn't supposed to happen how it did... none of it was supposed to happen" "Oh, so I'm meant to forgive you, just like that!?" "No. No... I... you had what I needed, but it's too late now" "You couldn't have just asked me for my help? Instead you dangle this job in front of me? Let them fucking torture me. Let them try to kill me. Because I had something you needed?!" Lance knew he was quick to jump to emotional extremes. He wore his heart on his sleeve and would do anything just to make everyone else happy. This was a rubbish idea. Absolutely quiznakkingly rubbish. "You never would have understood" "How can I when you won't explain anything?! You know exactly what they did to me. Over and over! You came to the hospital. You helped me get my job and my feet under me. Was it out of pity?! Or to keep you experiment close? Did he send you the footage? You told him to observe me... did you watch it?!" Rising from the visitors chair, Lance started to pace "Do you know what it's like?! I came back from the dead wrong! My girlfriend died and left me behind. I wanted to stay on Earth, because for some stupid reason I thought planting junipers would bring her back. I tore my whole family apart. But none of that compares to what Klearo did! Why didn't you stop him?!" "Lance... sit down" "Why should I?" Pushing herself up, Lance stopped pacing to stare as Kre'el tugged at the bandage around her left arm, just above her elbow. What did that have to with any of it? All he wanted was answers... Oh quiznak. Shiro was watching... he'd forgotten. Shit. Shit... He was letting him down by not being professional. Fuck. Leandro. Leandro. Not Lance. Not weak and worthless Lance. Pulling the fabric of the bandage loose, Kre'el freed her arm with one hard tug. Lance clamping a hand over his mouth as the skin began to stretch, her arm slowly tearing from her body in horrifically slow motion with a kind of stretching and popping noise as it did. Arms weren't supposed to do that! Throwing up in his mouth, he backed away from the Altean "I cannot maintain this body much longer, but before I die. I want to tell you my story... I want you to understand" Nope. He didn't want to understand. He wanted out... "Leandro, please. What I did wasn't simply for myself. I did what I needed for my people. The people that Alfor and Voltron abandoned" "Alfor didn't abandon you. He died!" "He turned his back on Altea!" "He had a war to fight!" "A war his friend caused! Altea wasn't some peaceful and happy planet! You know life doesn't work like that" "I know they weren't cutting people up like you were" "Please sit. It makes it so hard to have a conversation with you standing over there" "I think I'm just fine here. You said you wanted to explain, so explain" Covering the stump of where her arm was, there was no blood, or oozing or... anything should come with losing a whole freakin' arm. He couldn't bring himself to look back at the sight, or to look Kre'el in the face. He was haunted by her oddly cute pig faced nose and curly blonde hair "You know by now that the ship was an Altean prisoner ship. Alfor thought of himself a kind and generous king. He loved an extravagant lifestyle with his friends, bragging over how peaceful his world was. Even before Zarkon, bad Galra existed. Galra that took what they wanted without mercy. That wasn't a lie. The Galra in my blood wasn't out there by choice. I hated my blood because of it. Our family was shunned. It got slightly better when Zarkon and Honerva wed, then soon whispers spread of her madness. Blinded by his own ego, Alfor had his lions. Lions he handed to his friends, who weren't even Altean! Who he valued more than his own people. Instead of entrusting the future to the soldiers who'd lay down their lives in a heartbeat. So we protested. We screamed over Zarkon's threat and we're arrested for treason. We were arrested for threatening his much loved peace. Sentenced to spend our days working the mines for ore needed for him. For phoebs you could be held on Altea before you would be moved" Kre'el paused, letting her breathing settle before continuing "There were 547 of us on that ship. 547 people he simply did not wish to deal with. We weren't even all Altean... but they stuffed us into pods and sent us away. None of us were conscious when it happened. When the wormhole we had entered was corrupted by the shockwaves of Altea being destroyed. By now your princess had escaped with her bumbling servant. For us we'd only just fallen asleep before we were waking again. Those not in the pods hadn't survived. Realising we were alone, many fled the ship and onto the planet we landed on. You have to understand, this ship was carrying everything through to the vilest people you could think of. All of us stuck together in the space with no foreseeable way off. Those who didn't kill themselves killed each other so they wouldn't starve. There wasn't enough food for us all. There was no rescue ship coming. Then the sickness began. Those who huddled close to ship at night falling ill first. We weren't medical experts or technicians. No. They were all dead. So long gone that their bones had crumbled when we crash landed. A few of us came together. When we crashed and the pods opened, there were those who locked themselves away in the bridge. Those who prayed and called it the "decision of the stars", called us wicked and tainted, who told us we all deserved to die. They died. They starved to death in the bridge because they believed that was the only choice. Phoebs had passed by now... So we broke into the bridge. We broke in and found the ship still had power, but do you know why it still had power? When we were put in the pods, our quintessence mixed with the ships as if to hold our consciousness until we woke. The ship had power because of our quintessence" Lance was starting to get a headache from trying to keep up. Dizzy and confused, he trembled as he walked over and dropped back down on the visitors chair. "So the ship was powered by your quintessence?" That was the only thing important from everything she'd said so far. Kre'el nodded, her right hand "Yes. Not all of it was transferred back in the crash. The corrupt wormhole changed the nature. The radiation fall out changed our bodies. We hungered for quintessence with no idea why. It took movements to unlock the ship. To finally open the logs. We didn't believe it at first. What was quintants for us, had been 9 thousand years. We shouldn't have been alive. We agreed to keep it secret, then one spoke. He screamed it out to the whole populace, then killed himself in front of them all. Things fell into chaos, reverting back to as they'd been after the initial crash. But activating the ship had turned the distress beacon on. Finally someone knew we were out there..." 9 thousand years had to be a shock to the system. Allura had been heartbroken and shaken to her core to find she and Coran had slept for ten thousand. "The Galra came for us. Their ships small, yet plenty. So many people were cut down by them... They screamed in confusion, holding onto the notion they'd be rescued. The Galra had thought we might be a lion. That's all they came for. Many thought fighting back was useless. Most of us had no military skill. Most of us were sick and dying. When they found they no lion, they left us to die" Lance couldn't picture it without thinking of when they'd seen Hunk's parents back on Earth, in the hands of the Galra where they had no idea if they'd ever be rescued. His stupidly selfless nature found him sympathetic towards the abandoned criminals. "We had no food. No water. Only the desperate will to survive... When the secret of the ship being powered by quintessence spread further, there were many who gave their lives so the ship might fly again... by the end of the journey, only 180 of us were left. We found a planet with food and water. We settled. Changed our faces and took personal pods to other planets. Only to find that the Galra ruled all. Alfor had failed in his duty. The criminals he'd cast away and forgot from Altea, were now the last of the Altean's. The Galra were looking for the lions, but so were we. Especially the Red Lion. Alfor's hope and dream for Altea. We spent all the time we could searching, until he began to run low on power again. That's when we realised that there was an a whole universe of Galra in front of us. No one wanted them alive. They had no right to be alive. Our planet was gone from the maps. All hails went unanswered. The ship's cameras catching Altea's final moments. Alfor had destroyed it all by not listening to his people. His idea for a utopia impossible when not all people are born equal" Lance had shifted from sympathy to anger "Are you seriously telling me, this was all because of a grudge against a man who'd been dead for 9 thousand years?! You said you found a planet, so why couldn't you be happy?" "Could you be happy? If you woke up in the future and everything was gone? You don't get it. You're clearly loved and wanted! You didn't have to fight each day to live. You didn't have to watch your whole species grow ill and die. You didn't have to live as something less than human! Even when we left the planet, we still needed to return the ship frequently or we'd grow ill. It took us hundreds of deca-phoebs to establish ourselves. We shifted and blended in. Killed and took what we could. You've done the same. You killed and killed. You painted who ships red with the blood you spilt. You have no right to take the high ground" Lance wanted to scream. He also wanted to slap Kre'el senseless "I've never killed someone who didn't deserve it!" "How do you? How do you know that they deserved it? How do you know that was the right call to make?" "They fucking tortured me, Kre'el. And you've got some sobbing backstory that we've heard a dozen times before. Boo hoo. Your precious king didn't do as you wanted. You could have found another way. There's always another way. You didn't need to start killing people to keep your ship running!" "There was no other way. If you interrupt, I won't continue. I won't explain why it was you that we needed" "You said you needed my quintessence..." Kre'el burrowed back against her pillows. Lance releasing he'd interrupted again and was forced to play her game "I'm sorry. Please continue" "As I said, we had no one. Nothing. Altea was gone, and building our own colony was slow. We took jobs for the those supporting the Galra, they didn't know what we were. We turned our backs on everyone to survive, took citizens from every planet we could. When the Galra built outposts, we helped. We filled their ranks and spread only as far as our region of space. We watched them crush everyone with well placed whispers. They were already experimenting on bodies by then and we needed the data. Then we started to grow sicker. The corrupt radiation from the ship... it'd become part of us. We couldn't leave. We couldn't stay. Children stopped being born... The children we had were sickly, most dying in their early years. We needed more people to power the ship. We needed time to find to a way to survive. We allowed the Galra to capture the ship. They couldn't move it off planet, so they sent scientists to investigate. Deca-phobes had passed between visits. They were strong. Galra genetics are impervious to most common diseases. Even half breeds live a long and mostly healthy life. We hated the Galra but we needed them. Our bodies were failing us. What else could we do? We shifted shape, we lied and said we followed the empire. We killed the teams that were sent to power the ship and studied their remains. The pods were all corrupt, taking the quintessence and powering the tainted Balmera at the core. You have no idea what it was like. My own daughter... she wasted away before my eyes..." Lance felt a tear roll down his cheek. Kre'el was right. He didn't know what it was like. He'd lost the thing inside of him before he knew it was there... but to have a daughter and to lose her... "Why me? Voltron was back. You could have turned to us..." Kre'el let out a laugh "Alfor's precious Voltron. If Honerva hadn't been tampering with things she shouldn't have been, none of this would have happened. Voltron was built with no idea how it even worked. You showed up from nowhere. Then you disappeared again. You never once came close to our corner of the galaxy. We'd already been awake for a thousand years. We were dying and the only thing we had left was our hatred for Altea. You know a government can't operate on peace alone, but that gets swept under the rug. No one wants to talk about those not living happy peaceful lives, and when or if the media hears about it, they always want to know "why did no one step in?". It's all a farce. So when Voltron returned, we wanted the Red Lion. We wanted all the lions. The lions that should have stayed rightfully in the hands of Alteans" Lance shook his heads. He didn't get it. Kre'el had said Altea wasn't the peaceful paradise Coran looked through rose coloured glasses at "It was their differences that made Voltron what it was..." "Yet it took a group of humans to save the universe. We all hated you. We hated you and you returned Earth. Then we heard the most interesting of news. That a human born male was walking around with Altean marks. Can you imaging what that was like for us? A non-Altean species with the marks? We wanted you, but didn't know how to approach you" "So you used Klearo?" Kre'el nodded "He wanted power. He a small man who thought himself large, so we helped him into the spotlight. We made small attempts at his life, so he'd have a need for a bodyguard" "Why didn't you contact me... Why didn't you contact me when I landed on Erathus?" "Because we didn't know how your body worked. He was supposed to monitor you and report. But you... Your natural magnetism outshone his. People wanted to hear from the Paladin who wanted peace for the people. The Paladin who'd tragically lost the love of his life" "I would have fucking helped you!" Screaming at Kre'el Lance shot off the chair and over to the closest to the wall "You didn't need to put me through that! You know what they did! Three fucking movements. Kept stabled naked like I wasn't even worth clothes! Do you understand what was it was like? I was hallucinating my ex-girlfriend watching the whole fucking time! These marks have ruined my whole fucking life! She ruined my life trying to help me! And I still don't know if I hate her or if I'm still hurt she chose the universe over me! You say you're a parent, you should have some idea what you wanted for you daughter! Was rape part of that? To be raped repeatedly and violently? To have Galra go crazy for your scent like you're a drug? Do you know what it fucking hurt? How much it still hurts? I can't have a normal love life with my boyfriend! Keith... God. He has the patience of a fucking Saint. I still feel them on my skin and hear them in my ear. I still fucking jump every time I see Galra and freak over the fact they can smell me. They raped me over and over until I couldn't speak. Sometimes nonstop all fucking quintant! So tell me, did you want that for you daughter!? Did you want that for anyone!?" Kre'el let out a sob. Lance whipping around so he was no longer screaming at the wall "No. No. You don't get to cry!" "It wasn't supposed to go that far. I didn't care if he tortured you. But I had no idea he'd do that to you. When we found you... When I looked into your eyes and saw your pain... I knew I messed up" "Oh, you knew you messed up, so that makes it ok!?!" "No! No it doesn't. I wish... I could take that from you... but I... I know what happened. I saw the results when I went to the hospital. The positive readings... and I grew selfish again" Positive... Lance stumbled. All support gone from his knees. She'd known for that long... She'd known and hadn't helped him "I thought..." "Don't say it..." "If..." "Don't you fucking say it! If you ever fucking cared, even once you won't fucking say it" "I put you in the club so you'd be safe... but talking with you... you had so much hate in your heart... and so much love. I wanted to hate you. I wanted to keep hating you... but the more time past... the less I could... I starved to waver on my mission. But I couldn't turn back, so when Daehra and Lucteal took you, I prayed for your sake you'd stay away. But you didn't. You wanted to fight even harder for those who'd been hurt... before I realised it, no one trusted me anymore. Lasandi was sent to be by your side and I was recalled back to the ship... I didn't want for you to be raped. That is a thing I wouldn't wish on anyone else... We just wanted your quintessence. Your reading were so high. We wanted to know how to raise our own... and how a human could carry so much without exhibiting more signs. When you zapped Keith, most of us were so excited... but I knew what it meant. You were showing signs of controlling your Altean magics. Someone who should never had had that power. We argued and I won. I told them you wouldn't let all you'd seen of our outpost experiments go. You were to brave and noble to do that..." Sinking down the wall, Lance wrapped his arms around himself. None of this needed to happen. None of it. He didn't feel brave or nobel. He felt so quiznakking stupid that he wanted to throw himself off the nearest cliff. Behind him, Kre'el wheezed and cough. Some monitor beeping "We were last... the others have gone on... to the new home. I'm sorry Lance... I did love you... you were a friend... I didn't lie about that. I didn't want your friendship... but I still... valued you... I wish we could go back to those days and work together... I'm grateful... I met you..."

[ma-lemons]

March 24: Knowledge

While in Haven Academy, Ruby and Oscar discover a book only silver-eye warriors can open.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Oscar asked. His fingers were trembling in his gloves, and his heart was beating rapidly.

The look in Ruby’s eyes were enough to answer him. Her silver eyes took on a darker hue, and she wore a grimace. She looked much, much older than her actual age. Her fingers briefly touched the old, bound book before them. It was leather, and had swirls and strange shapes etched into it. On every corner of the book, a silver stone resided.

They were a library, Leonardo’s. The Haven professor was dead, but there was still loads of information that the Hunstmen could uncover before heading to Atlas. They had split up and Oscar and Ruby headed to Haven’s enormous library. They had uncovered a vault, where they had found a book on a pedestal. Oscar was curious as Ruby seemed drawn to it.

“Ruby? Are you okay?” Oscar asked her softly, his hands on her arm. Ruby ignored him, and continued staring at the book. He had a bad feeling that something magical was going to happen. He felt some strange, unseen presence. Perhaps it was becuase Ozpin was a part of him. He could sense these things now.

The room smelled of herbs, which Oscar thought was strange for an old, dusty library. Ozpin was silent, which was strange. Oscar could sense an overwhelming amount of knowledge pouring from the books.

Ozpin. Should Ruby be opening this book?

Silence.

Well then. Oscar neared Ruby. Whatever was to happen, he promised to protect her. A part of him was telling him to not let Ruby touch the book no matter what. The other side of him was quite curious.

Ruby slowly flipped the book open. The yellowed pages began to glimmer. Oscar stepped back, and pulled Ruby back with him. She snatched her arm from him and moved back to the pedestal. A deep, but soothing voice boomed from the book. Oscar really wanted to leave before he and Ruby were struck down.

He stood behind Ruby, ready to take her if the book did something strange.

I am the book.

A certain book, but only the special ones can look.

You cannot ask me what you wish to see.

You cannot ask me what to believe.

Do not ask me questions, no, no.

For I already have the answer to what you need to know.

The book’s glow dimmed, and Ruby’s eyes widened. Oscar wished he knew what was going on in her mind. She started to tremble again, and her breathing was even.

“Ruby, I really think we should go. Whatever this book has to say, I don’t think we should stick around for it,” Oscar murmured, gripping her arm.

“No,” was all she said. She moved towards the pedestal, and gripped the sides. She leaned into the book until her nose grazed it.

Oscar was getting a bit impatient, but was ready to go get Qrow or the others, when the book’s blue glow shone brighter. Ruby’s face was soon engulfed in that glow.

“Ruby!” Oscar reaches for her and tugged her back with all his strength. “Come on!” He desperately wished Ozpin would talk to him, tell him how to snap Ruby out of her trance. Oscar felt tears brimming in his eyes as Ruby’s head whipped around.

Oscar was scared.

In the blue light, Ruby looked frightening. What was even scarier was that her silver eyes were activated. Silver flame emanated from her eyes, and she looked oddly fierce. All the innocence seemed to be sucked from her face and Oscar realized that he wanted nothing else but to run. He was scared of Ruby.

Oscar remembered Ruby’s scroll she had given him earlier in case they ran into trouble. Well now they were in trouble. Oscar kept one eye on Ruby as he dialed Yang. She just stood there, as if she was paralyzed. Her eyes didn’t seem to fade, the blue glow in as still present.

“—Hello?”

“Yang! Ruby is—“

Suddenly, Ruby’s eyes stop glowing, the blue light ceased, and Ruby dropped to her knees. Her skin was paler than usual. Her head was in her hands, and she began to shake again. Oscar didn’t hesitate and dropped the scroll, Yang calling, “Hello? Hello?”

He dropped to Ruby’s side and wrapped an arm around her body. In the silence of the library, all Oscar could hear was Ruby’s sobs. She was crying.

“Ruby, what happened back there?” he asked her gently, rubbing her back. Ruby shook her head. “I...I...”

She was clearly in no state to speak. “Don’t speak. It’s okay.” Oscar would rather have her be in peace than force her to do something she didn’t want to do. He stood up and took the book, which has stop glowing, and chucked it as far as he could.

He returned to Ruby’s side. She had lifted her head up and seemed like she was willing to embrace him. She needed a shoulder to cry on, for whatever it was.

And there they sat, for minutes, until Yang and the rest of their friends arrived. It must’ve taken them a while to find the small underground room from the library. Oscar was promptly shoved over as Ruby’s teammates grabbed her and lifted her up.

“Ruby! Are you alright? Oscar called—and hung up!” Yang said, directing her glare at the farmer boy. All eyes were on him. He looked at his boots and apologized. “I’m sorry... I was worried about her. She...”

Ruby looked up, and met Oscar’s eyes. She was pleading him, silently. She didn’t want anyone to know.

He wasn’t sure keeping this between them was the best idea... but he promised. He gave a short nod and turned back to everyone else.

“She suddenly collapsed. She used her silver eye powers during the battle... I was worried. I think she was weak.”

Weiss let out a breath she must’ve been holding. Blake, who he had been introduced to moments before, closed her eyes in what could only be relief. Yang seemed a bit wary of her, and turned back to her sister, wrapping her in a hug.

“I... I thought something worse had happened. You seemed so urgent there. But... I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks, Yang,” Ruby smiled weakly. Qrow nodded. “You must be exhausted. All of you are. But we can’t stay here. Let’s find an inn and take a few days off before we head to Argus.”

“Yes!” Jaune cheered. Nora nodded. “I’m really tired too.”

“Then let’s go,” Qrow nodded. He looked at his niece, a brief smile appearing on his face. “You did really well, kid. All of you did.”

Nora beamed at the compliment, and Ren shares a nod with Weiss. For a bunch of teenagers with incomplete training, they were doing great.

“Let’s go, Ruby,” Yang said, starting to tug her sister along. Ruby squeezed out and shook her head. “I can walk. I’m okay now.” Her voice was quiet, unlike her typical loud and high-pitched one.

“Are you sure?”

Ruby nodded. “I’m okay.” Yang nodded and let Ruby walk by herself, but she still stood next to her. Oscar trailed behind everyone, ashamed for not being able to get Ruby out of the trance.

Ruby lingered begind as they exited the the vault, and waited for Oscar. She looked at him, her eyes serious. They had returned to their original silver and her skin seemed to be less pale.

“Oscar, thanks,” she whispered. She shivered.

“Are you okay? What... do you want to talk about what happened?” he murmured back.

“I...” the girl took a deep breath. “That was a book of knowledge. I don’t know how many there are but perhaps it’s conncted to the relic. But... it told me that it knew what I wanted to know most in the world. I thought... I thought it would tell me how to defeat Salem.”

Oscar waited, his breath caught in his throat.

“But... it didn’t. I... it showed me... it showed me my mother. And how she died.”

Oscar swore for a moment Ruby stopped breathing. He looked at her, and her eyes were glued to the ground. He could tell she was trying not to cry.

“Oh, Ruby. I... I wish I could’ve stopped you. You... you...”

“No. I... I wish I wasn’t so selfish. We could’ve defeated Salem, but instead, my selfish desires won in the end. And now... oh... it was so horrible,” she muttered.

For the first time, Oscar felt Ruby was detached from the world. Even after the fall of Beacon, after the death of her friends, she still stood up and fought. Now, she looked like she was prepared to give up.

“You’re not selfish, Ruby. You’re human. And had every right to wonder about your mom. I’m sorry... I don’t know what went on, but I know that she would be extremely proud of you if she was here right now. She would hold on tight to you, becuase she’d never want to let someone so brave and kind go.”

Ruby nodded but her eyes were still on the floor. Everyone else was exiting out of the school where the Faunus were arresting White Fang members. Everyone scattered for a moment. Oscar cleared his throat.

“We’ll find out a way to defeat Salem, Ruby. It’s not your fault. If I was possessed by that book, I’d probably want to know what we would eat for dinner,” he joked.

Ruby snorted. She looked up, and she looked a little better. Still sad.

“Hey, Ruby. You’re allowed to be sad. No one ever said you have to be cheery all the time.”

Ruby smiled. “Thanks. I’m not sure when I’ll tell the others. But I will soon.”

Oscar nodded. He would allow Ruby to decide when she was ready.

Hey Oscar, promise me something?”

“Anything,” he said, a little too eagerly.

“That one day, when this is all over, you’ll come to Patch with me and visit my mother.”

He was surprised. He wasn’t expecting an invitation to a grave. He almost said no, but looked into her eyes and knew he had to say yes.

“I promise.”

And then the two, with a heavy secret weighing on their hearts, went to join the rest of their friends.

[misteria247]

Olidia: Helping Hand

*Before we go onto the next part I just wanna thank @gabe-is-back-baby for being my roleplaying partner for this chapter. I honestly wouldn’t have known how to continue on without their amazing insight for the character Gabriel and his reactions! A lot of things may be edited or taken out in order to make the story work so a forewarning on that! WARNING! CONTAINS ANGST! Anyways please enjoy and thank you for your patience!!!*

  Olidia had no idea how this would go. In all honesty she wouldn’t be surprised if the encounter would end up with her being smote on the spot. But she had to know, she had to know if there was a possibility that he might help her. Sitting herself down on her couch Olidia prayed.

“Gabriel......I need to talk to you please?”

Gabriel appeared as soon as she was finished. For he he may have sucked at being may things but he believed that he was a good friend.

“Oli? Oli what’s wrong?”

He didn’t expect the poor woman to jump, causing her to fall off of her couch. He felt his heart stop as the young woman looked up at him, looking terrified. He quickly knelt down next to her and pulled her into a hug.

“Hey, it’s me. I’m right here. Talk to me what’s wrong?”

He asked, keeping his voice gentle. He felt Olidia take a shaky breath.

“How.....how do you hide someone.....?”

Gabriel’s eyes widened in surprise, he hadn’t been expecting that.

“Personally? I’d bring them to one of my safe houses. Oli who are you trying to hide from and why?”

Gabriel asked, getting a sinking feeling. He heard her mumble something.

“I gotta keep them safe....Elizabeth and Daniel...I have to hide them Gabe.”

She mumbled, starting to shake in his arms. She was so exhausted, so afraid.

“Who are they?”

The archangel asked, pulling the human closer to him for confront. She clearly needed it, to be held. Olidia felt him wrap her up in a tighter hug and couldn’t help but cling to him. She’d always felt safe around him, he was like the older brother she never had. And right now she needed that brother.

“My...my father...I gotta keep them safe from dad...”

She whispered, she felt so small. She’d had tensed as soon as she mentioned her father. 

“Are they your siblings? Are you trying to protect your siblings from your dad? Oli?”

At this point the archangel was extremely concerned. It was clear that she was scared and seemed to be in a dazed like state. She seemed to snap out of it when he said her name and she looked up at him. He felt his non beating heart stop at the sight of her face. She looked like hell and fear was written all over her pale face.

“My siblings. If I don’t find someplace for my siblings he’ll find them!”

She said, beginning to hyperventilate. Gabriel instantly began shushing her, offering confront to the distressed woman.

“Shhh. I’ve got you, I’ve got you kid. I’ll help you. I’ll care care of you and your siblings. They’ll be safe, you’ll be safe. I’m your friend Oli, I’m always her for you okay? I’m going to bring you guys to a nice safe house near Michael and me. Is that okay?”

He asked her, his voice soft like a parent comforting a scared child. Olidia looked at him, before finally breaking down. Heart wrenching sobs shook her body as she hung onto him, repeating the words, “Thank you.” over and over again. She was going to keep them safe, he wouldn’t get his hands on them.

“You’re welcome. You’re welcome....were are they? Your siblings I mean?”

Gabriel asked.  

“They’re here, in Lawrence. They’re staying with a friend.”

She responded, hiccuping. She never in her wildest dreams thought that getting them to safety would be so easy, but thank Chuck it was. Gabriel snapped his fingers, causing her hiccups to go away.

‘Did you want me to pick them up now? Or we could wait till tomorrow if you’re not up for it-”

He didn’t even finish his sentence before he saw wild panic and terror flash across her face. 

“No!!! Please, we have to go!!! If-if we wait any longer he-he might....!”

Olidia went even more pale than she already was.

“Okay, okay we’ll go right now....did you want to fly or did you want to drive over there?”

He asked, keeping a semi-tight grip on her. Oli clutched onto his arm.

“Now, the sooner we’re gone there the better. I’ll explain to them on the way there.”

She said with a slight panicky tone. Her only thoughts were that she NEEDED to get the twins and leave.

“Okay we’ll fly. Can you stand? I can’t fly with you sitting on the floor.”

Gabe said gently. Oli nodded before forcing herself off of the floor giving the archangel a full view of just how badly the situation effected her. She was paler then usual, her normally bright happy eyes were dimmed and filled with terror. Deep bags sat under her eyes and by the looks of it she looked like she’d lost weight. He was shocked that she was even able to stand.

Gabe holds onto her shoulder with one of his hands and uses the other to push her hair from her face. He was worried for her. He hears her take a shaky breath again before trying to give him a smile, but it was more of a grimace. 

“Ready.”

She said, one hand holding on to his jacket sleeve. With a flutter of wings they found themselves in front of a small apartment. Gabe walks Oli up to the door and knocks.

“Anyone home?”

Silence before the sound of footsteps could be heard. Behind the door a feminine voice was heard first.

“Danny let me answer the doo-!”

It was cut off by a man’s voice.

“I’‘m the man dammit! If it’s him I’ll stand a better chance-!”

“Well I’m the oldest!”

The feminine voice replied angrily. Gabriel felt Olidia take a deep breath before knocking again and saying,

“It’s me.”

The door burst open to reveal two blonde haired, blue eyed young adults. As soon as they saw Olidia’s state their faces changed to horrified looks.

“Oli what the hell???”

The woman, Elizabeth, asked. The man, Daniel looked striaght at Gabriel a look of mistrust in his eyes.

“Who the hell are you?”

Daniel asked, trying to make himself look threatening. Gabriel barely manged to keep himself from rolling his eyes at the display before replying,

“Hi, name’s Gabriel. It’s nice to meet you. Oli’s been worried about you two so I’ve agreed to take you three to one of my safe houses. Sound good to you guys?”

The twins gave the archangel a look over, from what Gabe could see it was obvious that the two of them were fiercely protective of Oli. He couldn’t help but think of how he’s like that with his older brothers.

“So it’ll keep Oli safe too right?”

Elizabeth asked, a bit cautious. He may have said all three of them but she wanted to make sure that he was serious.

“No, I’m going to let one of my best friends live a life a danger. Come on! Of course she’ll be safe! Now got your stuff together?”

Gabriel had said sarcastically. Ignoring the sarcasm Elizabeth turned to Daniel.

“Go and get our bags with Gabriel. I’ll stay here with sis.”

Daniel nodded before leading Gabriel into the apartment. They head upstairs to the spare rooms and start grabbing bags.

“So I’ve gotta ask before we go any further. How do you feel about angels? Archangels specifically.”

Gabriel asked. He watched as Daniel gave a look before sighing.

“Honestly, it’s not the strangest thing we’ve witnessed. When you live with our sister you get used to strange supernatural things.”

Daniel replied. That confused Gabriel a bit but he brushed it off, making a mental note to ask Olidia about it later.

“Okay my turn. I’ve got to tell you something because if I know my sister it’s that she refuses to let others know about things if it’s dangerous or could worry them.”

Daniel said staring right at Gabe, handing him a bag. Gabe grabs the bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Alright, what is it?”

Daniel took a deep breath before speaking.

“Do you know why we’re going into hiding? Because of our father. The bastard was in prison, he got out somehow and he’s looking for us. If he finds us Gabe he would hesitate hurting you or anyone else trying to protect Oli. She doesn’t say anything, but me and Liz, we both know that if he finds us......we could lose our older sister.”

Daniel said, chocking at bit at the end, he then turned steely blue eyes back to Gabe before speaking again.

“So I gotta know, one man to another. Can you keep her safe?”

Gabriel was in shock, he HATED hearing what Daniel had said. How dare this man, Olidia’s father threaten her?

“Dan, can I call you Dan? I’m not human, I’m an Archangel. I’ve got more power than most beings in the universe. I will keep your sister safe. I promise with my immortal life.”

Gabriel said. And he meant it. Just let this bastard try anything, Gabe wouldn’t hesitate to smite him.

Daniel’s face filled with relief.

“Thank you. She’s always looking out for others, and never asks for anything in return. But me and Liz know that she can’t do it alone forever. We want to keep her safe, just like she’s done for us all these years......”

Daniel trailed off before grabbing the last bag.

“Come on, we don’t wanna keep them waiting. The faster we get to this safe house the faster we Oli can relax and take care of herself”

Daniel said, slinging the last bag onto his back.

“Sounds like a plan. And it’s no problem. I care about Oli, she’s like family. I just wished she would have told me.”

Gabriel said with a frown. He’d question Olidia later when he could speak to her alone. The two made their out of the apartment to see Elizabeth and Olida sitting on the porch stairs, taking quietly. Elizabeth heard the footsteps and turned to look at them.

“Bout time Danny! Oli’s a bout to drop!”

Elizabeth said as Olidia looked up at her with dull narrowed eyes.

“I’m fine.”

Olidia spoke, her voice subdued. The trio flinched at the tone, it was strange to hear someone who was usually so bright and cheerful sound so dull and broken. 

“We’re ready when you are Gabriel.”

Elizabeth said softly helping Olidia to her feet. In the blink of an eye the four of them stood in front of a safe house. It was dark and most likely dusty from disuse but it was two stories tall and in the middle of nowhere, so it was better than nothing. Gabriel turned to the tree siblings.

“Welcome home.”

*AND DONE!!! Again thank you @gabe-is-back-baby for helping me further the story!!! Hopefully the next chapter we’ll have more characters to introduce!!! Till next time!!!*

[geekofmanyforms]

New Beginning  Chapter Eleven

**A/N: Please let me know what you think. I hope the discussion Damon and Elara have at the end isn’t confusing and too hard to believe. It just popped into my head and I went with it. Let me know if you have any questions. Just so you know, we will be getting to Elijah and Klaus - just not yet. I know, I know - we all love the originals, but we have to get through a few more plot points before then. So until then, as always, please review. This chapter has been edited by my Beta Casey.***

My screeching alarm clock woke me from a dreamless sleep — one I was extremely grateful for.

A tickling sensation on my cheek alerted me that Elena was still sleeping next to me. I brushed her hair off my face and wiggled my nose to rid it of the annoying itch. I gently pulled my arm from underneath her and slid from the bed silently. I couldn’t help but smile as I looked down at her sleeping, hair a tangled mess and mouth ajar. She drooled onto the pillow, and I contemplated taking a picture to use as blackmail at a later time.

There was no denying that she was a Petrova. With that came acts of selfishness and an incredible ability to pit brothers against one another. On the other hand, she was still my sister and had the potential to be an astounding person. She just needed a little help, that’s all.

I removed the hair that had started to cover her face as she tossed and turned. There was something more than last night’s dream bothering her, and I was going to find out exactly what that was. I sighed as her face scrunched with sadness and shook my head at the misfortune of what life had brought us. Sleeping in front of me was a beautiful young woman whose life was about to change drastically. She would be thrust into the supernatural, no matter how much I wished to prevent it. Even if I cruelly asked Stefan to leave, she would still be entangled in the supernatural world.

As I watched her, a feeling of resolve settled within me — I would try to protect her from what was coming. There was only so much I would be able to do, but I would still try. I almost laughed out loud when I realized she had gotten to me, the little Petrova brat! Admittedly, she had always had me wrapped around her finger, but now, I was simply no longer fighting it. She was my sister in this life, after all.

I grabbed some clothes from my closet and headed into the bathroom for a shower. When I was finishing up, I heard someone close the door to my room, and I peeked my head out of the bathroom. The steam followed me as I exited, and I tightened my hold on the towel that was wrapped around my body. My wet hair stuck to the side of my face as I peered around my empty room. Elena must have woken up, I’m sure that was all I heard.

I locked my bedroom door and pulled the towel from my body. I was just putting on my black underwear when I noticed someone on my bed. I screamed and grabbed the towel, covering myself in panic. I growled loudly when I saw it was just Rebekah, smiling at me mischievously.

“Damn you, Rebekah Mikaelson,” I panted, “Damn you to the pits of hell!”

I controlled my breathing and reached for my bra, which I had dropped in my rushed attempt to cover myself. Rebekah was perched on the end of my bed, her legs crossed and curly blonde hair bouncing slightly as she threw her head back in laughter.

“I can’t say I’m sorry El, that was hilarious. Besides, it’s not like you have something I’ve never seen before,” she giggled.

I hid in my closet and quickly threw on some jeans and one of my favorite band tees, the fantastic, amazing Linkin Park. I sat down at my vanity a moment later, looking at myself in the mirror. I brushed my fingers across the dark circles that had formed under my dull green eyes. The night before had taken the brightness from not only my eyes but my skin as well. I looked paler than typical, dry, and dehydrated.

I ran my hairbrush quickly through my knotted hair, wincing when I met a particularly rough patch. I grabbed a black hair tie and threw my hair up into a messy bun, too exhausted to care what I looked like.

“You look as bad as I do,” Rebekah said.

I sent her an artfully evil glare, one her Hybrid brother would be proud of, and stood, grabbing my jacket.

“I feel like death Beka. You should pity anyone who stands in my way today. I think I could even take on an Original if I had too,” I said, my voice dry.

As she stood, I couldn’t help but notice how her gray skin matched by carpet almost exact. My stomach rolled, and I knew I’d never been able to get that image from my head.

“Well, someone is in a mood today,” she said, looking into my eyes with worry.

I brushed past her and grabbed my dirty clothes from the floor, “I had a strange dream last night and then woke up to Elena in bed with me. Something similar happened to her, she had a nightmare of my death…on my birthday…”

I was unable to finish my sentence. Rebekah froze, her face a picture of pure shock,

“She saw your death? But how is that possible? You haven’t told her, and if someone else had she would have freaked and blown up!”

I nodded in agreement. If Elena had found out, I would have had an outraged sister on my hands. There was no way she could hide knowing about my curse from me.

“I agree, and that proves that something else is going on. I don’t think she had a premonition but the idea that she saw my death happening on my birthday—” I paused for a moment as I tossed my clothes into the hamper. “that is too close for comfort. Something is going on, and I need to find out what before she starts asking questions.”

I crossed arms and looked down at the floor.

“I don’t want anyone else knowing what is going to happen. I don’t want them being forced to live with that knowledge,”

Rebekah tapped her foot on the floor her face scrunched up in thought, “Oh my God! The Salvatores, they know about your curse!” she exclaimed, snapping her fingers. “What if they put the thought in her mind? You know that’s something vampires can do.”

I found it odd she could still snap her fingers, even though she was all but transparent. I thought over her idea, and the more I did, the more it made sense. It would be the perfect way for them to tell her without breaking the promise they had made to me. My lousy mood worsened at their potential betrayal.

“You’re right, that is something they would do, especially Damon. The dream I had was more of a memory — one starring him of course,” I hit my forehead with my hand repeatedly, “Stupid, stupid. How did I not even consider that?” I said in exasperation.

Rebekah picked at her white flapper dress, lost in thought.

“Well, I say you go to their house and find out. If they did this, you can’t let them get away with it,” she said.

I looked at my adopted sister, smiling at the determination in her expression. She surprised me, even after all these years she was still so strong.

“That’s exactly what I plan to do. I’m gonna get some answers. I don’t have time for all this extra drama,” I growled, “I swear if it was one of the Salvatores, I will not be very kind.”

I grabbed my car keys and headed towards Elena’s room. Her room was dark and empty,

Great, where had she disappeared too?

I walked downstairs and found the rest of the house empty as well. I took my bag from the table beside the door and left the empty house behind.

I drove to the Grill after receiving no answer when I called Elena and Jeremy. The Salvatores and any of their little tricks were just going to have to wait until I knew what had Elena so on edge.

I pulled into the Grill and hopped out of the car. Heading inside, I was greeted with the familiar smell I had come to associate with Mystic grill — food, alcohol, and tobacco. They were fairly busy, even though it was still early in the day, but this was a small town. For the younger crowds, it was pretty much the only place to hang out on a Saturday.

I looked around and noticed Damon wasn’t at the bar. He must still be missing his ring, something I knew would have him in a violent rage. At least I had a pretty good idea where I could find him. My eyebrow rose when I noticed Elena and Stefan speaking earnestly in a booth towards the back. Elena looked about as bad as I did, her face stressed and pale. I gave Stefan a once over and could see the fear he was trying very hard to hide. After growing up with him, it was easy to catch all the telltale signs that he was barely hanging on — whatever it was that he was discussing with Elena was a big deal. There was only one thing that could be causing this much stress on both sides — she had found out.

I had to admit I was a bit relieved. I had begun to fear it had something to do with Katherine secretly lurking here in Mystic Falls. I casually put my hands in my jacket pockets and strolled towards their table. When I was close enough to hear a bit of their conversation, I lowered myself to the floor and started messing with the shoestrings of my pink converse.

“You said you would explain everything — that’s why I asked you to meet me here,” Elena asked harshly, “When you google vampire you get a world of fiction. What’s the reality?”

So, they hadn’t gotten very far into everything… yet. I stood up and looked around; neither of them were being very careful, and I was afraid the wrong person would hear something they shouldn’t. When I was satisfied that no one was listening, I quickly sat down next to Stefan with a fake smile plastered on my face. Time to get this over with — it would do no one any good if she tried to hide the world I already knew about from me.

“Hey, Lena, everything ok? You both seem stressed,” I said, throwing my arm over Stefan’s shoulder.

He gave me an ‘Are you serious’ expression, which I, of course, ignored. Elena looked at Stefan in fear and tried to smile at me, but her nervousness shone through her doe eyes.

“Elara, this is actually a private conversation… could you wait at another table for me?”

I pulled my arm away from Stefan and kept my eyes on hers. I tilted my head to the side and gave her a sarcastic half-smile.

“Oh, Lena. No, this isn’t a private conversation, because I could hear everything you were saying as I walked up,” I said, turning towards Stefan. “You should use those enhanced senses to make sure no one is listening if you plan on having such an important conversation in a public place.”

Elena’s eyes widened in fear as her cheeks inflamed. She pulled her brown hair from her eyes and tried to act casual, “Ellie, that was a joke between us. You can’t honestly believe any of it,” she laughed sarcastically.

I leaned back in my seat and smiled at her. She had a sheen of sweat covering her forehead — she was anxious. Stefan kept his face down, but I could see him fighting a growing smirk.

I leaned my head against his shoulder and whispered low enough for only him to hear, “I’m going to tell her the basics later today, say anything else, and I’ll make sure I show you how good I am at giving a witchy migraine.”

A thick promise of pain was layered in my voice; I would deal with his possible betrayal later. He stiffened beside me and gave me a questioning look. I squinted my eyes at him and shook my head. I turned back to Elena, who was watching us with annoyance and concern.

“Elena, I know about Stefan and Damon. I’ve known since day one,” I said.

Her brown eyes filled with anger, and I watched several expressions fight for dominance on her face. Her jaw was tight, and she was opening her mouth to speak when I held up my hands and stopped her,

“Listen, I told Stefan to tell you. I never planned on keeping you in the dark, and you should know on my end that there is more to this than just their secret,” my voice was firm as I spoke. “but I can’t discuss it here, and I’d rather do it with Jer present as well,”

Stefan turned towards me in surprise. I frowned at him until I realized he thought I meant to tell her about the curse. I bit my lip and ignored him for now.

“So, I’ll let you finish your conversation,” I said motioning for the nearby waitress. “But when you’re done, I want you to call me, and we will go home for our own.”

A bleach blonde waitress sauntered up, staring at Stefan in admiration. “What can I get you?” she asked sweetly, still keeping her eyes on him.

I gave her an annoyed expression and turned towards Stefan smiling sweetly. “Could you get me a shot of Vodka, please?” I said, sticking my bottom lip out. I used my best sisterly puppy dog eyes. “I’m gonna need it today,” I said.

He sighed loudly and avoided Elena, who was staring at us with her mouth hanging open.

He looked at the waitress with a smile and spoke slowly and softly. “You’re going to get my friend here two shots of Vodka, no questions asked,” he said.

The woman blinked once and repeated what he had told her in a monotone voice. She walked away, and I watched as she poured my shots. I bounced lightly in my seat and smiled at him brightly. Compulsion was one skill I’d love to have.

“What the hell was that?” Elena scoffed.

I looked at her and shrugged. “It’s called compulsion, Lena. It’s a very handy little skill that all vampires possess. Stefan will explain more.”

The waitress brought over my shots, handing them to me with a blank expression. I looked down at them lovingly and downed the first with only a slight grimace. Before I could pick up the second, it was gone. I looked at Stefan and scrunched up my nose at him.

“That was evil!” I gasped.

He sat down the empty shot glass and smirked, “One is plenty for you. Its early, Elandra.”

It took a second for my brain to realize what he had just said. I had started to get used to them using my old name, but my eyes widened when I realized he had used it in front of Elena. I ground my teeth together, and his face paled when he realized his mistake.

“Elandra? Who’s that?” Elena asked.

I looked down at the table and inspected the worn wood like it was the most exquisite table in the world.

“Elara…?”

Elena’s voice rose an octave as she spoke. Stefan kicked my shin, jerking my head upward and forcing me to look at her.

“Nothing,” I said dismissively, “something we can talk about later.”

I hoped this would deter her from thinking about it right now. I looked at Stefan with a blank face.

“You’re paying,” I said with a matter of fact tone. I rose from the booth and looked at my sister “Call me when you’re done, Lena,”

I walked towards the exit as fast as I could. Damn those loud-mouthed Salvatores! I got in my car and sat back for a minute, contemplating what had just happened. With a small sigh, I started the engine and drove towards the Boarding House — I might as well get this conversation over with too.

When I arrived at the Boarding House, I immediately knew something wasn’t right. I could sense it. I had always had a second sense about these things — one the perks of being a witch for so long.

I got out of the car and looked around. The atmosphere was eerie and stiff, like something out of a horror movie. What had Damon gotten himself into now? I rubbed my forehead and closed my eyes tightly. I should just force him to listen to me about Katherine — at least then he would consider leaving. My eyes opened slowly as the thought crossed my mind. Was that what I wanted, really?

I pulled off my jacket and tossed it through my open window and into the back seat of the car. While I walked up to the front porch, I pulled my shirt down and tightened my hair. Fidgeting had always been one of my tells, but it was something I couldn’t seem to stop doing when I was nervous. Even though I knew I could protect myself, I still felt utterly terrified of what I might find inside. I didn’t want to see Damon as the monster he claimed to be. I had already seen him attempt to hurt Caroline; I wasn’t sure how much more I could see without hating him, and I was more afraid of hating him then of what he had become. I sometimes feared that accepting what he was and that he sometimes killed people made me a horrible person, but truth be told, I’m a firm believer hat vampires shouldn’t fight their true nature. They were natural born killers, and as long as they killed for food and not fun, I was perfectly fine with it.

When I reached the door, my hand hovered over the knob as I debated whether I should knock or just go in. Damon probably already knew I was here anyway, and without his ring, he couldn’t answer. I shook my head and mentally slapped myself, then grabbed the knob and pushed the door open. I walked through the entryway and looked around, but didn’t find Damon until I walked into the living room. He stood in the adjacent dining room with his back to me. His cell was against his ear, and he was jabbering, his voice firm and angry.

“Where are you, Stefan? I’m trapped at the house — I’m getting really bored and really impatient, and I don’t do bored and impatient,” he growled. “Bring me my ring,” he walked back into the living room, his phone held tightly in his hand.

“Damn it!” he spat.

He walked over to the bar and filled a glass with bourbon, downing the amber liquid in one swift motion. I toed the rug with my shoe and was just about to speak when I noticed someone on the couch. I could smell something coppery in the air and my stomach twisted. I rushed over and bent down beside the couch — it was Vicki Donovan.

She was lying still, barely breathing, and smelling of blood and gasoline. I scrunched up my nose and removed the hand towel that was being used to cover her neck. The blood was starting to dry in places, so her skin pulled when I moved it away. I winced on her behalf, but she didn’t make a sound. Honestly, she looked too weak to care.

“What is this, Damon? Why are you playing with her?” I said, placing the towel back on her neck and applying pressure. “She looks like death! What were you thinking?!”

I yelled loudly, fury in my voice. He placed his glass on the bar and calmly walked over to us.

“Aw, don’t get blood on the couch!” he said exasperatedly.

I looked at him in horror. He took the towel and moved it away; this time, Vicki tried to protest.

“Please?” Damon asked with false politeness. “I got you good, didn’t I?” he said, eying the deep wound on the side of her neck.

My mouth was still agape as he sighed deeply and stared down at her in boredom. Would he seriously go this far just to have something to occupy his time? This was exactly what I was afraid of. I’ve been around many vampires in my time, but never long enough to deal with acts like this. I had witnessed them feed and taunt, but never had I seen one play with their food — not like this.

“What the hell, Damon?” I asked, throwing my hand in the air, still in shock. “Why did you do this to her?” I questioned.

He looked at me, his face empty of emotion. Even his crystal eyes were vacant, almost like he had flipped the switch. If I hadn’t known him for as long as I had, that would be precisely what I thought. Luckily, I knew that he was pushing everything down, but it was still there — he just wanted people to believe he was an unfeeling monster. No, I could fight for his humanity, not only for his sake but for Stefan’s as well. I wasn’t able to save them the first time, but I could now— I had to at least try.

“What? I had to feed, and for some reason, this girl just didn’t seem to want to die. So, I brought her here,” he shrugged. “I’m bored, Ellie,” he finished, his voice lacking any emotion.

I sat back on the table behind me and lifted my head to the sky as if asking for divine intervention. Honestly, at this point, I sort of was asking for divine intervention.

“Well, you’re not gonna be any fun today,” he whispered to Vicki.

I lowered my head and watched him closely as he stood up and walked to the side of the couch where her head rested. I tilted my head to the side, shaking it in disappointment. I knew trying to intervene wouldn’t make a bit of difference. If he wanted a plaything, he would have one.

“I’m so gonna regret this,” he sighed and bit into his wrist.

There was a ripping sound when his teeth met his flesh, and I shivered. He bent down and placed his now bleeding wrist to Vicki’s mouth. I looked away in slight disgust as she struggled.

“Drink up. Drink up. Don’t drip,” Damon said gently, running his other hand over the side of her face in an almost loving manner.

After a few seconds, she finally gave in and drank from him deeply.

“There you go, good girl, that’s it,” he praised softly.

I felt sickened, and I was sure that’s exactly what he wanted. Instead of running from the room, I decided to play along. At least then I could keep an eye on them.

I remained on the table with my arms crossed and watched as her wound healed almost instantly. When her eyelids fluttered, I stood and walked over to the bar. I grabbed a glass and filled it to the brim with Damon’s Bourbon. I heard him compel Vicki to go upstairs and take a shower, but I kept my gaze on the glass in my hand. I listened to her footsteps recede as she headed upstairs. I took a drink and enjoyed the burn as it slid down my throat. Sometimes I still couldn’t believe that this was what my life had become.

I sensed Damon behind me but ignored him.

“You gonna stick around for the party, love?” He whispered in my ear, his breath was warm and smelt of blood. The coppery scent made my stomach swirl.

I turned around and meet his heated gaze. He was testing me, and I knew it.

“Yeah, I think I will. I have nothing else to do today. It’ll give me the chance to make sure you don’t fuck this up even more than you already have,” I said, sitting my glass down without breaking eye contact. “Oh, and don’t call me love,” I leaned into him and ran my nose across his jaw. “You have no right.”

I pushed past him with a rough shove and sat down in an armchair by the couch. I crossed my legs and watched him make himself another drink, then pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Stefan.

“You need to bring Damon his ring NOW! Things are getting out of hand. You should have never tried to interfere with his plans, it only made things worse.”

Damon sat on the arm of my chair and leaned over me. “Who are you texting El, Boyfriend?” he asked, putting his hand behind my head. “Lover? Or…ohhhh girlfriend?” he abashedly said.

I slapped him on the chest as hard as I could. He fake pouted, and I narrowed my eyes at him. “Your brother, actually. I told him he needs to return what belongs to you. I also told him how stupid he was to try and get in the way of whatever your planning. What is that, by the way?” I asked, raising my brow.

He patted my head as if I were a small child, and pulled me out of the seat before taking my place. I scoffed loudly and started to walk away before he pulled me onto his lap.

“What makes you think I’m planning something, Elandra?” he asked.

I laughed sarcastically and tried to pull myself away from him.

“Because, I know you, Damon — probably even better than Stefan does,”

I finally got out of his tight grasp, then walked behind his chair and put my hands on his shoulders. I rubbed his muscles with a firm touch, smiling at the low groan that escaped his lips.

“I was only asking out of courtesy Damon, or did you forget that I was very close with Emily Bennett?”

Before I could even blink, he was out of the chair and beside me. “What do you know about any of this, El? You weren’t around when it happened.”

Damon looked at me in confusion. I had gotten exactly what I wanted by bringing up Emily — Damon did have a shred of emotion left.

“Just because you and I were no longer speaking when you made your deal with Em, doesn’t mean I never knew about it,” I rolled my eyes and stepped away from him. “Emily and I burned together, after all. We were pretty close,”

I cleared my throat and decided to just do it — to tell him. He needed to know.

“I never wanted to tell you this Damon, but I knew when you returned,”

I closed my eyes at the sound of his gasp. I didn’t want to open this old wound, but it was necessary.

“I knew that you were back in town and I knew that you fell for Katherine. I knew that she had you under her spell. I just didn’t know that you had fallen so hard for her. It wasn’t until someone told me that you loved her, that I finally realized the truth. You had chosen her,”

I sat down, wringing my hands, and looked up at him. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face pained. I looked away and frowned. After he returned on leave, I’d expected him to come to find me. When Katherine visited and told me he was back and had been spending his time with her, I knew he had fallen for her. She had captured his attention, and I had been forgotten. It’s a hard pill to swallow, knowing you weren’t good enough for someone you loved.

“How…did…” the anger in his eyes was hard as steel. “…was it Stefan?”

I shook my head and let out an irritated tisk. Not everything was Stefan’s fault.

“No, it wasn’t Stef — it was Katherine, actually. She told me you were home on leave. She and Emily visited me a lot. I trained with Em, and Katherine was never far behind,” I said, looking down at my hands.

He had started pacing while I spoke, and I could see the guilt in his eyes. I wasn’t bringing it up to hurt him, but he needed to know everything. I had mentioned to him several times now that I had spoken to Katherine in another life, and if I had, then it should be evident to him that Katherine wasn’t in the tomb. He had either heard me and refused to believe it, or had selective hearing.

“Katherine told you about us, and you never showed up and confronted me?” he asked in disbelief.

His face was a mixture of anger and something else, something I wasn’t able to place. It was almost as if he felt betrayed that I never tried to regain his attention.

“No, but she loved mentioning that you and Stefan fought over her. She never told me that you were sleeping with her, but it wasn’t hard to guess at, Damon. Besides, I figured if you didn’t want me to know you were home and hid away from me when I was around, then why bother with you at all?”

I sighed and stood from the seat. I walked over to him with my hands on the back of my neck — this whole conversation was tiring. I could feel the stress covering me like a lead blanket. Standing in front of him, I could see how hard this conversation was on him too. Yes, he was the one who cheated on me and had thought it was something that had been lost to time, but it wasn’t hard to see it was one of his biggest regrets. I guessed he hoped I’d imagined their relationship had started after I died, that he had returned to find me dead and gone, only moving on after grieving the appropriate amount of time. When I didn’t speak for a moment, he looked at me, running his hand through his hair. Not knowing what more to say at that moment, I let out an audible breath and let a half-hearted smile ease his worries.

“Listen, Damon, it was a long time ago. I got over it. I was told everything I hadn’t already known from an old friend in my next life. I also heard it from Katherine just a century after that,” I said, hoping he would bring up the fact that I was trying to ease him into the idea that she was living her life, and not stuck in a tomb.

When he didn’t mention it and just walked away towards the curtain covered window, I let out a loud growl of annoyance. He didn’t turn around or even acknowledge my outburst, possibly thinking it had to do with our past. In anger, I lifted my arm and opened my palm, and with one swift motion, I focused on Damon and pulled him towards me. A loud shocked gasp filled the silence as his whole body lifted into the air and came flying in my direction. I twirled my index finger, and his body twisted around and faced me. Without caring how much it would hurt, I closed my hand into a fist and dropped him. He landed directly in front of me, I smiled down at his crumpled form.

“Now that I have your attention, you are going to listen to me,” I sternly said.

He pushed himself onto his hands and knees and lifted his angry oceanic eyes to mine. “Damon Salvatore, I know how much she means to you, but you have to know she isn’t where you think she is. She never was. I - Have - Seen - Her!” I said enunciating the last part of the sentence.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes clouded. I bent down to his level and gently laid my palm on his cheek. I ran my fingers across his tense brow and bit my lip. I was past everything that happened between us, it was long since forgotten. I chose to only remember the good and to be honest, I didn’t blame him. He was a weak human man. How could I expect him to win against a beautiful vampire Goddess? She used all of his insecurities to make him believe she loved him and wanted him for eternity.

“Damon, you have two choices. One, you can remember that I would never lie to you. Or two, you can continue to try and find a way to open the tomb and see for yourself. Either way, I will be there to help you. No matter what, you are still my friend,” I whispered with a small sigh.

I stood, pulling him to his feet and leading him over to the couch he had placed Vicki on. We sat in silence, the only sound between us my slow breathing. He had long since sat still enough to remind me of a statue, not a single breath or movement to make him appear even slightly human. I watched him with concern for his mental wellbeing. I wasn’t sure what I could do or say to make any of it better. His body was slouched forward his head in his hands, elbows pressing into his knees. Tension filled his whole body, I wanted to touch him, to give him at least a small reminder that he wasn’t alone. I was buried so deep in my own thoughts that his sudden intake of breath caused me to jump so high the couch rattled beneath me.

“I’m so sorry for the way our relationship ended. If I had been around and not pushed your safety onto Stefan, then I would have been there to protect you. Instead, I was in Katherine’s bed as you burned to death,” he said, his breath hitching.

I licked my dry lips, unsure of what I was supposed to say to that. “No matter what, I would have died Damon, I’m cursed,”

He lifted his head and glared at me. “I blamed Stefan for so long, even though I should have been the one there. He knew everything, yet he kept it from you, even after I tried to get between him and Elena. He truly is the better man,” he whispered, so low I could not be sure that’s exactly what he said.

He gripped his hair tightly in frustration as he stood from the couch and paced in front of me.

“I have to know for sure. I have to see it for myself. After everything, loving her cost me, I can’t believe she would do that,” he mumbled, in an almost crazed fashion.

He walked over to the bar and grabbed the glass container of bourbon, lifting it to his lips. He started chugging it like a dying man finding an oasis in the desert. I shook my head in sympathy.

“Ok, Damon, ok. We will open the tomb,” I said slowly.

As much as I hated the idea of how broken he would be once we opened the tomb, I would help him. Until then, we both needed a distraction. Making a quick decision, I walked over to the stereo and turned it on. Loud music filled the room, and I made my way to the bar. He looked at me in confusion his brows raised in question.

I pried the bourbon from his tight grasp and filled a glass, raising it in the air with a sly grin. “We’re stuck here, for now. So we might as well have some fun!” I said, lifting the glass to my lips.

He softly chuckled with a small smile on his lips, but it wasn’t enough to reach his eyes.

“All is forgiven, Damon. But if you want to, you can make it up to me by showing me a good time. I’ve heard your good at that, Mr. Salvatore,” I playfully said.

He grabbed the small silver stereo remote and switched the song to something with an excellent beat. “That I am Ms. Miller,” he said with a tired smirk.

I sat my empty glass down and started dancing a circle around him and was quickly joined by Vicki. I hadn’t even noticed her return. I looked down to find that she was only wearing a bra and panties. I turned towards Damon, who was eyeing me expectantly. I almost laughed at the challenge and shook my head with a shrug. I connected hands with her, and we both lifted ourselves onto the table in front of the couch. I grabbed the bottle of Vodka she was holding and took a swig. When in Rome, I guess.

[cosmiicfairy]

Needlepoint

The first and probs not the last reaper76 fic i’ve actually written. I’ve been itching to do SEP era stuff lately so to counter my dumbass depression I started writing.

Also read on AO3

“Gabe?” He doesn’t sound entirely there, his voice is distant, eyes unfocused, in the way only heavy narcotics ( or, in this instance, DNA altering drugs that 90% of the program was certain were illegal ) seemed capable of doing. Pupils blown, but his sight is far off, and he makes no motion of recognizing the hand resting atop his on the bed.

“I’m here.”

This is a bad one.

Most of them are, actually; the serums were all experimental, tested on young soldiers like rats, for lack of any other real option. The world was on the brink of devastation from the omnic crisis, and the United States military was running out of options. The whole world was running out of options. The solution? A straight-from-a-comic-book experiment, in which young soldiers – such as Johnathon “Jack” Morrison, or Gabriel Reyes – were injected twice weekly with what most believed to be radioactive goop, then tested to see how said goop changed them. Each injection was brutal, though some carried it better than others ( Jack, Gabriel had realized, was one of those people ), and most were left for days with a lingering sick from the doses.

Of the millions who had joined the military at the beginning of the omnic crisis two years earlier, 40 had been chosen for what was known then as the “Special Program”, where soldiers with potential were to be trained rigorously to battle the oncoming torrent of machines. For all its wealth and power, the United States had kept the omnic threat from their shores, but it wouldn’t last forever, every soldier knew it, every family knew it – it was a matter of time. But details of the program had been kept classified, even to Gabriel Reyes, who was on the fast track to officer.

“Bet it’s a bunch of bullshit, and we’re the suicide team.” The scrappy blonde beside Gabriel had whispered to him, arms folded across his chest with something Gabriel had thought to be an unearned arrogance. Nevertheless, his lip twitched up at the comment. If that turned out to be true, Gabriel couldn’t even say he would be surprised – the world was giving up hope that anything would stop the God Codes, and the United States wasn’t above buying itself time.

Illegal injections of experimental drugs, however, did surprise him, surprised most, in fact. Less surprising, though, were the twenty or so who immediately opted out ( Gabriel didn’t know what became of them, but they were led through a chamber off in the corner, and from what he had heard, were never seen again. Rumors, but chilling, nonetheless ). Half the group gone, but Gabriel stayed, and the spunky blonde at his left did, too; in total 13 men, and 7 women were left standing.

Gabriel learned a week in that “Spunky Blonde” – as he had affectionately named him – was actually named Jack Morrison. He learned another week later, that Jack Morrison was born and raised on a farm in Indiana.

“Bloomin’ton, to be exact,” he had told Gabriel in the locker room, the sweet southern tang surprising, given that Indiana was, technically, north of anywhere Jack should have picked up the accent. He learned week three, that Jack had exaggerated it ( and week 3.5, learned he had only exaggerated it a little ).

He learned that Jack’s family owned a farm, that he had two younger sisters, that the men in his family were military men ( but that wasn’t why Jack had joined, apparently ), and he learned, though by accident, that Jack Morrison was, in fact, straight as a circle.

The first injection that came during week three was the mildest, and only one or two of the recruits had even experienced any symptoms. Jack, however, was one of them, as had been the soldier a year or so older than Gabriel whose dick was stuffed into the farm boy’s mouth in the locker room. The few who had experienced symptoms at all from the first injection had all reported the same thing, enhanced libido, and Gabriel wasn’t sure whether to laugh or run when he saw it.

He told that story now, holding Jack’s hand while they both fought off the wave of sick washing through their veins. Jack had never been the type to complain about his symptoms, had taken them all with headstrong confidence, in a way that Gabriel, himself, hadn’t quite been able to do ( more than once he had succumb to the aches, the nausea, the high fevers, but Jack made strides to fight it with that same arrogance he’d had the day they met ). But the blonde looked like he was a half-step from death’s door; eyes sunken, skin paler than normal ( jack was white bread, but this was to an extreme ), and Gabriel had had to stop a nose bleed once or twice. Three people had already died from the injections, boys whose families would likely never know the truth of what was happening – most of the program was convinced most of the military didn’t even know the truth, that this was nothing if not illegal.

Four months in, though, Jack looked ready to go next. The soldiers had stopped going to the infirmary after the first month of injections, knowing there was nothing that could be done to make any of this easier, nothing that could be done to even prevent the death associated with it. All that could be done, was to sit by their side, and pray to any god that might listen that they survive the night.

“I was honest to god surprised how well you deep throated him.” Gabriel laughed, and it earned a squeeze to his hand from Jack, and a soft chuckle. That was enough. He had moved to sit on the bed beside Jack by then, back leaned against the wall, and Jack’s head on his shoulder. “That how you got through high school? Sucking everyone’s dick?”

“You took Anderson’s up your ass pretty well, I heard,” came a snappy reply, and it earned a sharp laugh from Gabriel. He was cracking jokes, that was a good sign. That rumor wasn’t true, and Jack knew that, but it made them both laugh, and it made the silence that followed something akin to torture. Jack was still holding his hand, his eyes were still open, unfocused, but open, and despite the raggedness ( something that had prompted Gabriel to urge Jack desperately to go to the infirmary for, to no avail ) of the way he breathed, Jack was still breathing.

Gabriel hadn’t officially come clean about it, but he liked Jack a lot, and he knew that Jack knew, which made it all the more awkward, but then again, Jack hadn’t told Gabriel how he felt, either, but they both knew it. An unspoken love, but it was there, and it could be felt in the way Jack held Gabriel’s hand, and in the way Gabriel tried desperately not to think about what might happen in the night ( he could feel Jack’s fever on the skin of his shoulder, and it was harder to try to think of anything else ).

He didn’t know what time he had fallen asleep ( it was after 3 am, he remembers wiping up another nosebleed that had stained Jack’s shirt in his sleep ), but when he awoke, startled, it was well into the afternoon, and after a minute of disorientation, he realized the space beside him was empty. Panic is what set in first, shooting from the mattress as he looked around the room frantically, calling for Jack with rising anxiety.

“Jesus, relax,” came the groggy reply from Gabriel’s private bathroom ( a benefit of his position prior to joining the program ). Jack had ditched his shirt into Gabriel’s laundry bag from the blood, but his sweats still hung low on his hips. Gabriel let out a breath he’d been holding, fingers pushing through the short crop of curls on the top of his head, relieved as he relaxed back onto the edge of the bed. Jack looked like hell, dark circles under his eyes, face still pale, but he had a certain glow that only came with blowing chunks until you felt better.

“Don’t scare me like that you asshole,” Gabriel barked back without any real annoyance, palms pressing to his eyes as he rubbed the sleep from them. “What time is it?”

“Almost 2:30, woke up like 45 minutes ago and I literally just stopped throwing up.” Jack moved to take a seat beside Gabriel on the bed, lying back to stare up at the ceiling. A moment of silence, and Jack couldn’t help but snort to himself, cerulean blues trailing to look at Gabriel. “You were worried about me.”

For a moment, Gabriel stared at him, dumbfounded by the statement. Worried didn’t quite sum up the degree to which Gabriel had panicked – not only minutes earlier, but through the night. This goddamn, gay as the day was long, blonde-haired blue-eyed farm boy from Indiana was his best friend, he loved him, and the idea of losing Jack hadn’t just worried him, it had scared the ever living piss out of Gabriel, and it still made his heart clench painfully. But after a moment, he let himself lie back, too, feeling Jack’s eyes on him, though his own stayed trailed on the ceiling.

“Yeah. Yeah I was.”

Notes:

[readbookywooks]

By Ilusha's Bedside

THE room inhabited by the family of the retired captain Snegiryov is already familiar to the reader. It was close and crowded at that moment with a number of visitors. Several boys were sitting with Ilusha, and though all of them, like Smurov, were prepared to deny that it was Alyosha who had brought them and reconciled them with Ilusha, it was really the fact. All the art he had used had been to take them, one by one, to Ilusha, without "sheepish sentimentality," appearing to do so casually and without design. It was a great consolation to Ilusha in his suffering. He was greatly touched by seeing the almost tender affection and sympathy shown him by these boys, who had been his enemies. Krassotkin was the only one missing and his absence was a heavy load on Ilusha's heart. Perhaps the bitterest of all his bitter memories was his stabbing Krassotkin, who had been his one friend and protector. Clever little Smurov, who was the first to make it up with Ilusha, thought it was so. But when Smurov hinted to Krassotkin that Alyosha wanted to come and see him about something, the latter cut him short, bidding Smurov tell "Karamazov" at once that he knew best what to do, that he wanted no one's advice, and that, if he went to see Ilusha, he would choose his own time for he had "his own reasons." That was a fortnight before this Sunday. That was why Alyosha had not been to see him, as he had meant to. But though he waited he sent Smurov to him twice again. Both times Krassotkin met him with a curt, impatient refusal, sending Alyosha a message not to bother him any more, that if he came himself, he, Krassotkin, would not go to Ilusha at all. Up to the very last day, Smurov did not know that Kolya meant to go to Ilusha that morning, and only the evening before, as he parted from Smurov, Kolya abruptly told him to wait at home for him next morning, for he would go with him to the Snegiryovs, but warned him on no account to say he was coming, as he wanted to drop in casually. Smurov obeyed. Smurov's fancy that Kolya would bring back the lost dog was based on the words Kolya had dropped that "they must be asses not to find the dog, if it was alive." When Smurov, waiting for an opportunity, timidly hinted at his guess about the dog, Krassotkin flew into a violent rage. "I'm not such an ass as to go hunting about the town for other people's dogs when I've got a dog of my own! And how can you imagine a dog could be alive after swallowing a pin? Sheepish sentimentality, thats what it is! For the last fortnight Ilusha had not left his little bed under the ikons in the corner. He had not been to school since the day he met Alyosha and bit his finger. He was taken ill the same day, though for a month afterwards he was sometimes able to get up and walk about the room and passage. But latterly he had become so weak that he could not move without help from his father. His father was terribly concerned about him. He even gave up drinking and was almost crazy with terror that his boy would die. And often, especially after leading him round the room on his arm and putting him back to bed, he would run to a dark corner in the passage and, leaning his head against the wall, he would break into paroxysms of violent weeping, stifling his sobs that they might not be heard by Ilusha. Returning to the room, he would usually begin doing something to amuse and comfort his precious boy: he would tell him stories, funny anecdotes, or would mimic comic people he had happened to meet, even imitate the howls and cries of animals. But Ilusha could not bear to see his father fooling and playing the buffoon. Though the boy tried not to show how he disliked it, he saw with an aching heart that his father was an object of contempt, and he was continually haunted by the memory of the "wisp of tow" and that "terrible day." Nina, Ilusha's gentle, crippled sister, did not like her father's buffoonery either (Varvara had been gone for some time past to Petersburg to study at the university). But the half-imbecile mother was greatly diverted and laughed heartily when her husband began capering about or performing something. It was the only way she could be amused; all the rest of the time she was grumbling and complaining that now everyone had forgotten her, that no one treated her with respect, that she was slighted, and so on. But during the last few days she had completely changed. She began looking constantly at Ilusha's bed in the corner and seemed lost in thought. She was more silent, quieter, and, if she cried, she cried quietly so as not to be heard. The captain noticed the change in her with mournful perplexity. The boys' visits at first only angered her, but later on their merry shouts and stories began to divert her, and at last she liked them so much that, if the boys had given up coming, she would have felt dreary without them. When the children told some story or played a game, she laughed and clapped her hands. She called some of them to her and kissed them. She was particularly fond of Smurov. As for the captain, the presence in his room of the children, who came to cheer up Ilusha, filled his heart from the first with ecstatic joy. He even hoped that Ilusha would now get over his depression and that that would hasten his recovery. In spite of his alarm about Ilusha, he had not, till lately, felt one minute's doubt of his boy's ultimate recovery. He met his little visitors with homage, waited upon them hand and foot; he was ready to be their horse and even began letting them ride on his back, but Ilusha did not like the game and it was given up. He began buying little things for them, gingerbread and nuts, gave them tea and cut them sandwiches. It must be noted that all this time he had plenty of money. He had taken the two hundred roubles from Katerina Ivanovna just as Alyosha had predicted he would. And afterwards Katerina Ivanovna, learning more about their circumstances and Ilusha's illness, visited them herself, made the acquaintance of the family, and succeeded in fascinating the half-imbecile mother. Since then she had been lavish in helping them, and the captain, terror-stricken at the thought that his boy might be dying, forgot his pride and humbly accepted her assistance. All this time Doctor Herzenstube, who was called in by Katerina Ivanovna, came punctually every other day, but little was gained by his visits and he dosed the invalid mercilessly. But on that Sunday morning a new doctor was expected, who had come from Moscow, where he had a great reputation. Katerina Ivanovna had sent for him from Moscow at great expense, not expressly for Ilusha, but for another object of which more will be said in its place hereafter. But, as he had come, she had asked him to see Ilusha as well, and the captain had been told to expect him. He hadn't the slightest idea that Kolya Krassotkin was coming, though he had long wished for a visit from the boy for whom Ilusha was fretting. At the moment when Krassotkin opened the door and came into the room, the captain and all the boys were round Ilusha's bed, looking at a tiny mastiff pup, which had only been born the day before, though the captain had bespoken it a week ago to comfort and amuse Ilusha, who was still fretting over the lost and probably dead Zhutchka. Ilusha, who had heard three days before that he was to be presented with a puppy, not an ordinary puppy, but a pedigree mastiff (a very important point, of course), tried from delicacy of feeling to pretend that he was pleased. But his father and the boys could not help seeing that the puppy only served to recall to his little heart the thought of the unhappy dog he had killed. The puppy lay beside him feebly moving and he, smiling sadly, stroked it with his thin, pale, wasted hand. Clearly he liked the puppy, but... it wasn't Zhutchka; if he could have had Zhutchka and the puppy, too, then he would have been completely happy. "Krassotkin!" cried one of the boys suddenly. He was the first to see him come in. Krassotkin's entrance made a general sensation; the boys moved away and stood on each side of the bed, so that he could get a full view of Ilusha. The captain ran eagerly to meet Kolya. "Please come in... you are welcome!" he said hurriedly. "Ilusha, Mr. Krassotkin has come to see you! But Krassotkin, shaking hands with him hurriedly, instantly showed his complete knowledge of the manners of good society. He turned first to the captain's wife sitting in her armchair, who was very ill-humoured at the moment, and was grumbling that the boys stood between her and Ilusha's bed and did not let her see the new puppy. With the greatest courtesy he made her a bow, scraping his foot, and turning to Nina, he made her, as the only other lady present, a similar bow. This polite behaviour made an extremely favourable impression on the deranged lady. "There,.you can see at once he is a young man that has been well brought up," she commented aloud, throwing up her hands; "But as for our other visitors they come in one on the top of another." "How do you mean, mamma, one on the top of another, how is that?" muttered the captain affectionately, though a little anxious on her account. "That's how they ride in. They get on each other's shoulders in the passage and prance in like that on a respectable family. Strange sort of visitors!" "But who's come in like that, mamma?" "Why, that boy came in riding on that one's back and this one on that one's." Kolya was already by Ilusha's bedside. The sick boy turned visibly paler. He raised himself in the bed and looked intently at Kolya. Kolya had not seen his little friend for two months, and he was overwhelmed at the sight of him. He had never imagined that he would see such a wasted, yellow face, such enormous, feverishly glowing eyes and such thin little hands. He saw, with grieved surprise, Ilusha's rapid, hard breathing and dry lips. He stepped close to him, held out his hand, and almost overwhelmed, he said: "Well, old man... how are you?" But his voice failed him, he couldn't achieve an appearance of ease; his face suddenly twitched and the corners of his mouth quivered. Ilusha smiled a pitiful little smile, still unable to utter a word. Something moved Kolya to raise his hand and pass it over Ilusha's hair. "Never mind!" he murmured softly to him to cheer him up, or perhaps not knowing why he said it. For a minute they were silent again. "Hallo, so you've got a new puppy?" Kolya said suddenly, in a most callous voice. "Ye-es," answered Ilusha in a long whisper, gasping for breath. "A black nose, that means he'll be fierce, a good house-dog," Kolya observed gravely and stolidly, as if the only thing he cared about was the puppy and its black nose. But in reality he still had to do his utmost to control his feelings not to burst out crying like a child, and do what he would he could not control it. "When it grows up, you'll have to keep it on the chain, I'm sure." "He'll be a huge dog!" cried one of the boys. "Of course he will," "a mastiff," "large," "like this," "as big as a calf," shouted several voices. "As big as a calf, as a real calf," chimed in the captain. "I got one like that on purpose, one of the fiercest breed, and his parents are huge and very fierce, they stand as high as this from the floor.... Sit down here, on Ilusha's bed, or here on the bench. You are welcome, we've been hoping to see you a long time.... You were so kind as to come with Alexey Fyodorovitch?" Krassotkin sat on the edge of the bed, at Ilusha's feet. Though he had perhaps prepared a free-and-easy opening for the conversation on his way, now he completely lost the thread of it. "No... I came with Perezvon. I've got a dog now, called Perezvon. A Slavonic name. He's out there... if I whistle, he'll run in. I've brought a dog, too," he said, addressing Ilusha all at once. "Do you remember Zhutchka, old man?" he suddenly fired the question at him. Ilusha's little face quivered. He looked with an agonised expression at Kolya. Alyosha, standing at the door, frowned and signed to Kolya not to speak of Zhutchka, but he did not or would not notice. "Where... is Zhutchka?" Ilusha asked in a broken voice. "Oh well, my boy, your Zhutchka's lost and done for!" Ilusha did not speak, but he fixed an intent gaze once more on Kolya. Alyosha, catching Kolya's eye, signed to him vigourously again, but he turned away his eyes pretending not to have noticed. "It must have run away and died somewhere. It must have died after a meal like that," Kolya pronounced pitilessly, though he seemed a little breathless. "But I've got a dog, Perezvon... A Slavonic name... I've brought him to show you." "I don't want him!" said Ilusha suddenly. "No, no, you really must see him... it will amuse you. I brought him on purpose.... He's the same sort of shaggy dog.... You allow me to call in my dog, madam?" He suddenly addressed Madame Snegiryov, with inexplicable excitement in his manner. "I don't want him, I don't want him!" cried Ilusha, with a mournful break in his voice. There was a reproachful light in his eyes. "You'd better," the captain started up from the chest by the wall on which he had just sat down, "you'd better... another time," he muttered, but Kolya could not be restrained. He hurriedly shouted to Smurov, "Open the door," and as soon as it was open, he blew his whistle. Perezvon dashed headlong into the room. "Jump, Perezvon, beg! Beg!" shouted Kolya, jumping up, and the dog stood erect on its hind-legs by Ilusha's bedside. What followed was a surprise to everyone: Ilusha started, lurched violently forward, bent over Perezvon and gazed at him, faint with suspense. "It's... Zhutchka!" he cried suddenly, in a voice breaking with joy and suffering. "And who did you think it was?" Krassotkin shouted with all his might, in a ringing, happy voice, and bending down he seized the dog and lifted him up to Ilusha. "Look, old man, you see, blind of one eye and the left ear is torn, just the marks you described to me. It was by that I found him. I found him directly. He did not belong to anyone!" he explained, to the captain, to his wife, to Alyosha and then again to Ilusha. "He used to live in the Fedotovs' backyard. Though he made his home there, they did not feed him. He was a stray dog that had run away from the village... I found him.... You see, old man, he couldn't have swallowed what you gave him. If he had, he must have died, he must have! So he must have spat it out, since he is alive. You did not see him do it. But the pin pricked his tongue, that is why he squealed. He ran away squealing and you thought he'd swallowed it. He might well squeal, because the skin of dogs' mouths is so tender... tenderer than in men, much tenderer!" Kolya cried impetuously, his face glowing and radiant with delight. Ilusha could not speak. White as a sheet, he gazed open-mouthed at Kolya, with his great eyes almost starting out of his head. And if Krassotkin, who had no suspicion of it, had known what a disastrous and fatal effect such a moment might have on the sick child's health, nothing would have induced him to play such a trick on him. But Alyosha was perhaps the only person in the room who realised it. As for the captain he behaved like a small child. "Zhutchka! It's Zhutchka!" he cried in a blissful voice, "Ilusha, this is Zhutchka, your Zhutchka! Mamma, this is Zhutchka!" He was almost weeping. "And I never guessed!" cried Smurov regretfully. "Bravo, Krassotkin! I said he'd find the dog and here he's found him." "Here he's found him!" another boy repeated gleefully. "Krassotkin's a brick! cried a third voice. "He's a brick, he's a brick!" cried the other boys, and they began clapping. "Wait, wait," Krassotkin did his utmost to shout above them all. "I'll tell you how it happened, that's the whole point. I found him, I took him home and hid him at once. I kept him locked up at home and did not show him to anyone till to-day. Only Smurov has known for the last fortnight, but I assured him this dog was called Perezvon and he did not guess. And meanwhile I taught the dog all sorts of tricks. You should only see all the things he can do! I trained him so as to bring you a well trained dog, in good condition, old man, so as to be able to say to you, 'See, old man, what a fine dog your Zhutchka is now!' Haven't you a bit of meat? He'll show you a trick that will make you die with laughing. A piece of meat, haven't you got any?" The captain ran across the passage to the landlady, where their cooking was done. Not to lose precious time, Kolya, in desperate haste, shouted to Perezvon, "Dead!" And the dog immediately turned round and lay on his back with its four paws in the air. The boys laughed, Ilusha looked on with the same suffering smile, but the person most delighted with the dog's performance was "mamma." She laughed at the dog and began snapping her fingers and calling it, "Perezvon, Perezvon!" "Nothing will make him get up, nothing!" Kolya cried triumphantly, proud of his success. "He won't move for all the shouting in the world, but if I call to him, he'll jump up in a minute. Ici, Perezvon!" The dog leapt up and bounded about, whining with delight. The captain ran back with a piece of cooked beef. "Is it hot?" Kolya inquired hurriedly, with a business-like air, taking the meat. "Dogs don't like hot things. No, it's all right. Look, everybody, look, Ilusha, look, old man; why aren't you looking? He does not look at him, now I've brought him." The new trick consisted in making the dog stand motionless with his nose out and putting a tempting morsel of meat just on his nose. The luckless dog had to stand without moving, with the meat on his nose, as long as his master chose to keep him, without a movement, perhaps for half an hour. But he kept Perezvon only for a brief moment. "Paid for!" cried Kolya, and the meat passed in a flash from the dog's nose to his mouth. The audience, of course, expressed enthusiasm and surprise. "Can you really have put off coming all this time simply to train the dog?" exclaimed Alyosha, with an involuntary note of reproach in his voice. "Simply for that!" answered Kolya, with perfect simplicity. "I wanted to show him in all his glory." "Perezvon! Perezvon," called Ilusha suddenly, snapping his thin fingers and beckoning to the dog. "What is it? Let him jump up on the bed! Ici, Perezvon!" Kolya slapped the bed and Perezvon darted up by Ilusha. The boy threw both arms round his head and Perezvon instantly licked his cheek. Ilusha crept close to him, stretched himself out in bed and hid his face in the dog's shaggy coat. "Dear, dear!" kept exclaiming the captain. Kolya sat down again on the edge of the bed. "Ilusha, I can show you another trick. I've brought you a little cannon. You remember, I told you about it before and you said how much you'd like to see it. Well, here, I've brought it to you." And Kolya hurriedly pulled out of his satchel the little bronze cannon. He hurried, because he was happy himself. Another time he would have waited till the sensation made by Perezvon had passed off, now he hurried on, regardless of all consideration. "You are all happy now," he felt, "so here's something to make you happier!" He was perfectly enchanted himself. "I've been coveting this thing for a long while; it's for you, old man, it's for you. It belonged to Morozov, it was no use to him, he had it from his brother. I swopped a book from father's book-case for it, A Kinsman of Mahomet, or Salutary Folly, a scandalous book published in Moscow a hundred years ago, before they had any censorship. And Morozov has a taste for such things. He was grateful to me, too...." Kolya held the cannon in his hand so that all could see and admire it. Ilusha raised himself, and, with his right arm still round the dog, he gazed enchanted at the toy. The sensation was even greater when Kolya announced that he had gunpowder too, and that it could be fired off at once "if it won't alarm the ladies." "Mamma" immediately asked to look at the toy closer and her request was granted. She was much pleased with the little bronze cannon on wheels and began rolling it to and fro on her lap. She readily gave permission for the cannon to be fired, without any idea of what she had been asked. Kolya showed the powder and the shot. The captain, as a military man, undertook to load it, putting in a minute quantity of powder. He asked that the shot might be put off till another time. The cannon was put on the floor, aiming towards an empty part of the room, three grains of powder were thrust into the touchhole and a match was put to it. A magnificent explosion followed. Mamma was startled, but at once laughed with delight. The boys gazed in speechless triumph. But the captain, looking at Ilusha, was more enchanted than any of them. Kolya picked up the cannon and immediately presented it to Ilusha, together with the powder and the shot. "I got it for you, for you! I've been keeping it for you a long time," he repeated once more in his delight. "Oh, give it to me! No, give me the cannon!" mamma began begging like a little child. Her face showed a piteous fear that she would not get it. Kolya was disconcerted. The captain fidgeted uneasily. "Mamma, mamma," he ran to her, "the cannon's yours, of course, but let Ilusha have it, because it's a present to him, but it's just as good as yours. Ilusha will always let you play with it; it shall belong to both of you, both of you." "No, I don't want it to belong to both of us; I want it to be mine altogether, not Ilusha's," persisted mamma, on the point of tears. "Take it, mother, here, keep it!" Ilusha cried. "Krassotkin, may I give it to my mother?" he turned to Krassotkin with an imploring face, as though he were afraid he might be offended at his giving his present to someone else. "Of course you may," Krassotkin assented heartily, and, taking the cannon from Ilusha, he handed it himself to mamma with a polite bow. She was so touched that she cried. "Ilusha, darling, he's the one who loves his mammal" she said tenderly, and at once began wheeling the cannon to and fro on her lap again. "Mamma, let me kiss your hand." The captain darted up to her at once and did so. "And I never saw such a charming fellow as this nice boy," said the grateful lady, pointing to Krassotkin. "And I'll bring you as much powder as you like, Ilusha. We make the powder ourselves now. Borovikov found out how it's made- twenty-four parts of saltpetre, ten of sulphur and six of birchwood charcoal. It's all pounded together, mixed into a paste with water and rubbed through a tammy sieve-that's how it's done." "Smurov told me about your powder, only father says it's not real gunpowder," responded Ilusha. "Not real?" Kolya flushed. "It burns. I don't know, of course." "No, I didn't mean that," put in the captain with a guilty face. "I only said that real powder is not made like that, but that's nothing, it can be made so." "I don't know, you know best. We lighted some in a pomatum pot, it burned splendidly, it all burnt away leaving only a tiny ash. But that was only the paste, and if you rub it through... but of course you know best, I don't know... And Bulkin's father thrashed him on account of our powder, did you hear?" he turned to Ilusha. "We had prepared a whole bottle of it and he used to keep it under his bed. His father saw it. He said it might explode, and thrashed him on the spot. He was going to make a complaint against me to the masters. He is not allowed to go about with me now, no one is allowed to go about with me now. Smurov is not allowed to either; I've got a bad name with everyone. They say I'm a 'desperate character,'" Kolya smiled scornfully. "It all began from what happened on the railway." "Ah, we've heard of that exploit of yours, too," cried the captain. "How could you lie still on the line? Is it possible you weren't the least afraid, lying there under the train? Weren't you frightened?" The captain was abject in his flattery of Kolya. "N - not particularly," answered Kolya carelessly. "What's blasted my reputation more than anything here was that cursed goose," he said, turning again to Ilusha - but though he assumed an unconcerned air as he talked, he still could not control himself and was continually missing the note he tried to keep up. "Ah! I heard about the goose!" Ilusha laughed, beaming all over. "They told me, but I didn't understand. Did they really take you to the court?" "The most stupid, trivial affair, they made a mountain of a mole-hill as they always do," Kolya began carelessly. "I was walking through the market-place here one day, just when they'd driven in the geese. I stopped and looked at them. All at once a fellow, who is an errand-boy at Plotnikov's now, looked at me and said, 'What are you looking at the geese for?' I looked at him; he was a stupid, moon-faced fellow of twenty. I am always on the side of the peasantry, you know. I like talking to the peasants.... We've dropped behind the peasants that's an axiom. I believe you are laughing, Karamazov?" "No, Heaven forbid, I am listening," said Alyosha with a most good-natured air, and the sensitive Kolya was immediately reassured." "My theory, Karamazov, is clear and simple," he hurried on again, looking pleased. "I believe in the people and am always glad to give them their due, but I am not for spoiling them, that is a sine qua non... But I was telling you about the goose. So I turned to the fool and answered, 'I am wondering what the goose thinks about.' He looked at me quite stupidly, 'And what does the goose think about?' he asked. 'Do you see that cart full of oats?'I said. 'The oats are dropping out of the sack, and the goose has put its neck right under the wheel to gobble them up - do you see?' 'I see that quite well,' he said. 'Well,' said I, 'if that cart were to move on a little, would it break the goose's neck or not?' 'It'd be sure to break it,' and he grinned all over his face, highly delighted. 'Come on, then,' said I, 'let's try.' 'Let's,' he said. And it did not take us long to arrange: he stood at the bridle without being noticed, and I stood on one side to direct the goose. And the owner wasn't looking, he was talking to someone, so I had nothing to do, the goose thrust its head in after the oats of itself, under the cart, just under the wheel. I winked at the lad, he tugged at the bridle, and crack. The goose's neck was broken in half. And, as luck would have it, all the peasants saw us at that moment and they kicked up a shindy at once. 'You did that on purpose!' 'No, not on purpose.' 'Yes, you did, on purpose!' Well, they shouted, 'Take him to the justice of the peace!' They took me, too. 'You were there, too,' they said, 'you helped, you're known all over the market!' And, for some reason, I really am known all over the market," Kolya added conceitedly. "We all went off to the justice's, they brought the goose, too. The fellow was crying in a great funk, simply blubbering like a woman. And the farmer kept shouting that you could kill any number of geese like that. Well, of course, there were witnesses. The justice of the peace settled it in a minute, that the farmer was to be paid a rouble for the goose, and the fellow to have the goose. And he was warned not to play such pranks again. And the fellow kept blubbering like a woman. 'It wasn't me,' he said, 'it was he egged me on,' and he pointed to me. I answered with the utmost composure that I hadn't egged him on, that I simply stated the general proposition, had spoken hypothetically. The justice of the peace smiled and was vexed with himself once for having smiled. 'I'll complain to your masters of you, so that for the future you mayn't waste your time on such general propositions, instead of sitting at your books and learning your lessons.' He didn't complain to the masters, that was a joke, but the matter noised abroad and came to the ears of the masters. Their ears are long, you know! The classical master, Kolbasnikov, was particularly shocked about it, but Dardanelov got me off again. But Kolbasnikov is savage with everyone now like a green ass. Did you know, Ilusha, he is just married, got a dowry of a thousand roubles, and his bride's a regular fright of the first rank and the last degree. The third-class fellows wrote an epigram on it: Astounding news has reached the class, Kolbasnikov has been an ass. And so on, awfully funny, I'll bring it to you later on. I say nothing against Dardanelov, he is a learned man, there's no doubt about it. I respect men like that and it's not because he stood up for me." "But you took him down about the founders of Troy!" Smurov put in suddenly, proud of Krassotkin at such a moment. He was particularly pleased with the story of the goose. "Did you really take him down?" the captain inquired, in a flattering way. "On the question who founded Troy? We heard of it, Ilusha told me about it at the time." "He knows everything, father, he knows more than any of us!" put in Ilusha; "he only pretends to be like that, but really he is top in every subject..." Ilusha looked at Kolya with infinite happiness. "Oh, that's all nonsense about Troy, a trivial matter. I consider this an unimportant question," said Kolya with haughty humility. He had by now completely recovered his dignity, though he was still a little uneasy. He felt that he was greatly excited and that he had talked about the goose, for instance, with too little reserve, while Alyosha had looked serious and had not said a word all the time. And the vain boy began by degrees to have a rankling fear that Alyosha was silent because he despised him, and thought he was showing off before him. If he dared to think anything like that, Kolya would- "I regard the question as quite a trivial one," he rapped out again, proudly. "And I know who founded Troy," a boy, who had not spoken before, said suddenly, to the surprise of everyone. He was silent and seemed to be shy. He was a pretty boy of about eleven, called Kartashov. He was sitting near the door. Kolya looked at him with dignified amazement. The fact was that the identity of the founders of Troy had become a secret for the whole school, a secret which could only be discovered by reading Smaragdov, and no one had Smaragdov but Kolya. One day, when Kolya's back was turned, Kartashov hastily opened Smaragdov, which lay among Kolya's books, and immediately lighted on the passage relating to the foundation of Troy. This was a good time ago, but he felt uneasy and could not bring himself to announce publicly that he too knew who had founded Troy, afraid of what might happen and of Krassotkin's somehow putting him to shame over it. But now he couldn't resist saying it. For weeks he had been longing to. "Well, who did found it?" Kolya, turning to him with haughty superciliousness. He saw from his face that he really did know and at once made up his mind how to take it. There was so to speak, a discordant note in the general harmony. "Troy was founded by Teucer, Dardanus, Ilius and Tros," the boy rapped out at once, and in the same instant he blushed, blushed so, that it was painful to look at him. But the boys stared at him, stared at him for a whole minute, and then all the staring eyes turned at once and were fastened upon Kolya, who was still scanning the audacious boy with disdainful composure. "In what sense did they found it?" he deigned to comment at last. "And what is meant by founding a city or a state? What do they do? Did they go and each lay a brick, do you suppose?" There was laughter. The offending boy turned from pink to crimson. He was silent and on the point of tears. Kolya held him so for a minute. "Before you talk of a historical event like the foundation of a nationality, you must first understand what you mean by it," he admonished him in stern, incisive tones. "But I attach no consequence to these old wives' tales and I don't think much of universal history in general," he added carelessly, addressing the company generally. "Universal history?" the captain inquired, looking almost scared. "Yes, universal history! It's the study of the successive follies of mankind and nothing more. The only subjects I respect are mathematics and natural science," said Kolya. He was showing off and he stole a glance at Alyosha; his was the only opinion he was afraid of there. But Alyosha was still silent and still serious as before. If Alyosha had said a word it would have stopped him, but Alyosha was silent and "it might be the silence of contempt," and that finally irritated Kolya. "The classical languages, too... they are simply madness, nothing more. You seem to disagree with me again, Karamazov?" "I don't agree," said Alyosha, with a faint smile. "The study of the classics, if you ask my opinion, is simply a police measure, that's simply why it has been introduced into our schools." By degrees Kolya began to get breathless again. "Latin and Greek were introduced because they are a bore and because they stupefy the intellect. It was dull before, so what could they do to make things duller? It was senseless enough before, so what could they do to make it more senseless? So they thought of Greek and Latin. That's my opinion, I hope I shall never change it," Kolya finished abruptly. His cheeks were flushed. "That's true," assented Smurov suddenly, in a ringing tone of conviction. He had listened attentively. "And yet he is first in Latin himself," cried one of the group of boys suddenly. "Yes, father, he says that and yet he is first in Latin," echoed Ilusha. "What of it?" Kolya thought fit to defend himself, though the praise was very sweet to him. "I am fagging away at Latin because I have to, because I promised my mother to pass my examination, and I think that whatever you do, it's worth doing it well. But in my soul I have a profound contempt for the classics and all that fraud.... You don't agree, Karamazov?" "Why 'fraud'?" Alyosha smiled again. "Well, all the classical authors have been translated into all languages, so it was not for the sake of studying the classics they introduced Latin, but solely as a police measure, to stupefy the intelligence. So what can one call it but a fraud?" "Why, who taught you all this?" cried Alyosha, surprised at last. "In the first place I am capable of thinking for myself without being taught. Besides, what I said just now about the classics being translated our teacher Kolbasnikov has said to the whole of the third class." "The doctor has come!" cried Nina, who had been silent till then. A carriage belonging to Madame Hohlakov drove up to the gate. The captain, who had been expecting the doctor all the morning, rushed headlong out to meet him. "Mamma" pulled herself together and assumed a dignified air. Alyosha went up to Ilusha and began setting his pillows straight. Nina, from her invalid chair, anxiously watched him putting the bed tidy. The boys hurriedly took leave. Some of them promised to come again in the evening. Kolya called Perezvon and the dog jumped off the bed. "I won't go away, I won't go away," Kolya said hastily to Ilusha. "I'll wait in the passage and come back when the doctor's gone, I'll come back with Perezvon." But by now the doctor had entered, an important-looking person with long, dark whiskers and a shiny, shaven chin, wearing a bearskin coat. As he crossed the threshold he stopped, taken aback; he probably fancied he had come to the wrong place. "How is this? Where am I?" he muttered, not removing his coat nor his peaked sealskin cap. The crowd, the poverty of the room, the washing hanging on a line in the corner, puzzled him. The captain, bent double, was bowing low before him. "It's here, sir, here, sir," he muttered cringingly; "it's here, you've come right, you were coming to us..." "Sne-gi-ryov?" the doctor said loudly and pompously. "Mr. Snegiryov -is that you?" "That's me, sir!" "Ah!" The doctor looked round the room with a squeamish air once more and threw off his coat, displaying to all eyes the grand decoration at his neck. The captain caught the fur coat in the air, and the doctor took off his cap. "Where is the patient?" he asked emphatically.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under a Vanilla sky prt 47 full draft

Lance's nerves started to grow as he walked with Shiro and Keith through the palace. Keith was still miffed about not being able to be in the same room as he and Kre'el, while Lance was trying not freak out over the fact that Kre'el could easily divulge all his secrets. It scared him more than each Galra they passed. More than when he'd shamefully screamed at Keith that he'd been raped. More than admitting that he had feelings for Keith and being swept away into a relationship with a man he still felt he wasn't worthy of. Every little thing had his heart racing in fear. His hands clenched as he grit his teeth, not trusting himself to breath through his mouth in case those pancakes ended up on his shoes. Both men at his sides knew he wasn't ok. Shiro said he smelt like dead mouse again, and Keith had growled at him over it, insisting that Lance smelt like rotten fruit. Neither scents appealing, or what he wanted associated with him. To him, he smelt like Keith. He could smell him all over his clothes and skin. He could almost feel his soft lips against his own... But there'd be no Keith in the same room as him. No retreating once he saw Kre'el. The Cuban's throat felt tight, as if the water he'd forced himself to sip while Keith ate, was filled with poisonous thorns that formed with each step closer to Kre'el he came. What did he say to her? "I'm sorry my friends shot you after you nearly killed Keith and I?". "Come here often?", or his personal favourite "Why didn't you ask me for help sooner?". Lance knew losing his temper wouldn't get him anywhere... but she was behind it all... If she was as old as the ship, she'd had thousands of years to change her ways. To find a peaceful way to get what she wanted or needed... Did the fact that she failed to find peace, mean that there'd never be a day when everyone found common ground? The thought was thoroughly depressing. His depression showing in his leaden steps. His whole body tingled with the feeling that this was a horribly horrible idea, and that he'd be absolutely rubbish at "interrogating" her.

 The room where Kre'el was being held was a converted laboratory. A long double sided window ran along the far length of the room, the space where Keith and Shiro would watch on. Stopping at the guarded door, Lance stumbled back as Veronica came out the room. Holopad in hand, and fierce scowl on her face. Veronica... he absolutely couldn't let her know... stumbling back, he smacked into Shiro's chest

"Lance?"

Looking up to Shiro, Lance's eyes were silently pleading with the man who wasn't surprised that his sister was there

"You never said Veronica would be here..."

"That's nice, little brother. We're not letting you be harmed by her"

Tugging him away from Shiro, Keith wrapped his arms around Lance as Lance continued to stare at his sister in shock

"Shiro, I don't think this is a good idea. It could get... pretty graphic"

"Veronica is..."

No. Uh uh. If this was happening, it was under his terms. If he had to go in there, have his secrets spilt to the world and be put so far out of his comfort zone that he didn't know where the hell his comfort zone was anymore, he had a right to do this in his own way

"No. No. I'll let her die. I'll let her die without asking her a thing. I know you can stick her back in a pod, but if Veronica doesn't leave, then I'm not going in there"

 Lance's words took him by surprise, yet they summed up how he felt deep down. Veronica pushed her glasses up with her pointer finger

"Lance, I'm a professional. Whatever you have to say..."

"You're my sister V. You've been my sister since the first time you held me. Remember how it all was before the Galra? You know how bad things got... I don't want you listening to what happened. I don't want you thinking about what could have been prevented. I don't want you listening. Shiro, please. If you and Keith are listening, don't let Veronica listen"

 Shiro was on the edge of his trust circle. He was trying to let him further, but it was hard to be that way with his "childhood hero-cum-space dad". Veronica was out of the circle after their fight. He wasn't useless and he wasn't a burden. His mami had said so

"I'm your sister. I want to be there for you"

"You can be there by letting me tell you things in my own time"

"In your own time? You have yet to make a statement over what happened out there. Keith made a statement to the Blades, but that was a phoeb and a half after the incident"

"It's been two phoebs Veronica! Two! I'm not ready yet!"

"You need to do your job"

"I have been doing my job! I am doing my job. I know it ended up with a heap of trouble on your end, but you have no idea what it was like, and frankly I pray you never do. Shiro is the Commanding Officer of the Atlas, otherwise I wouldn't have him here either. No offence Shiro. I'm just sure that if you were in my place, you wouldn't want me there"

Shiro got it. He dumped the unsure manner, as he rose to the full height of "Commander mode"

"Veronica, the plan was for you to stand here and guard the door externally. Kre'el had stipulated that she will only talk to Lance privately. That's why Keith can't be in the room with them. Now. Lance, remember that we can hear you and if anything at all happens, we will intervene. I trust you to handle this. I know you can handle this. You've grown past the age where you need your hand held... That doesn't mean I won't... if you need... or Keith will. I just mean that... you've got this"

Giving Shiro a tight smile, he appreciated his words. Keith nuzzled into his neck, pressing a kiss against the curve to his shoulder

"Say the word, and we'll get you out"

"We don't have a safe word"

Lance missed the way Shiro rolled his eyes at them. He hadn't even meant it sexually so he wasn't thinking of it in that way

"What about chocolate?"

Chocolate could work

"What if I forget?"

"I'll be watching babe. I know how to read those moods of yours"

Lance might have been offended if he wasn't doing everything he could to be brave right now. He'd waited so long for answers, yet now he was so close to them, he didn't know if truly wanted them. Once he knew, he couldn't unknow. Whatever Kre'el had to say, he would carry for the rest of his life

"That makes one of us. Now, let's do this. Please. I want this to be over"

"Ok, babe. I quiznakking wish I was going in there with you"

"I know..."

Lance didn't reply with "me too", as he knew Keith wouldn't be able to keep his temper. They needed Kre'el alive long enough to answer everything she could

"I'll see you soon"

  Sitting propped up on the hospital bed, Kre'el's pale maroon form seemed to be paler. The marks on her cheeks glowed so softly they looked as if they'd flicker out of existence completely within doboshes. Swallowing hard, Lance forced his shaking legs over to the visitors chair where sat down on the very edge. He could smell the death rolling off Kre'el. An unsettling scent, kind of like burnt coffee mixed with the sweet scent of rotting meat. Watching as Kre'el's cracked lips parted, Lance still jumped when she spoke

"Lance... thank you for coming to see me"

"You didn't leave me much choice"

Coughing, her breath rattled as she then rasped

"I'm sorry. You're the only one who would understand"

"I understand that you sold me to your stupid friends. Now two of my friends have to watch me talk to you. Who are you? I thought we friends. I thought of you as a genuine friend, but now I don't even know if Kre'el is your true name. And why... did you have a whole prison ship?"

He'd been so close to asking "why me?", but chickened out

"It wasn't supposed to happen how it did... none of it was supposed to happen"

"Oh, so I'm meant to forgive you, just like that!?"

"No. No... I... you had what I needed, but it's too late now"

"You couldn't have just asked me for my help? Instead you dangle this job in front of me? Let them fucking torture me. Let them try to kill me. Because I had something you needed?!"

 Lance knew he was quick to jump to emotional extremes. He wore his heart on his sleeve and would do anything just to make everyone else happy. This was a rubbish idea. Absolutely quiznakkingly rubbish.

 "You never would have understood"

"How can I when you won't explain anything?! You know exactly what they did to me. Over and over! You came to the hospital. You helped me get my job and my feet under me. Was it out of pity?! Or to keep you experiment close? Did he send you the footage? You told him to observe me... did you watch it?!"

Rising from the visitors chair, Lance started to pace

"Do you know what it's like?! I came back from the dead wrong! My girlfriend died and left me behind. I wanted to stay on Earth, because for some stupid reason I thought planting junipers would bring her back. I tore my whole family apart. But none of that compares to what Klearo did! Why didn't you stop him?!"

"Lance... sit down"

"Why should I?"

 Pushing herself up, Lance stopped pacing to stare as Kre'el tugged at the bandage around her left arm, just above her elbow. What did that have to with any of it? All he wanted was answers... Oh quiznak. Shiro was watching... he'd forgotten. Shit. Shit... He was letting him down by not being professional. Fuck. Leandro. Leandro. Not Lance. Not weak and worthless Lance. Pulling the fabric of the bandage loose, Kre'el freed her arm with one hard tug. Lance clamping a hand over his mouth as the skin began to stretch, her arm slowly tearing from her body in horrifically slow motion with a kind of stretching and popping noise as it did. Arms weren't supposed to do that! Throwing up in his mouth, he backed away from the Altean

"I cannot maintain this body much longer, but before I die. I want to tell you my story... I want you to understand"

Nope. He didn't want to understand. He wanted out...

"Leandro, please. What I did wasn't simply for myself. I did what I needed for my people. The people that Alfor and Voltron abandoned"

"Alfor didn't abandon you. He died!"

"He turned his back on Altea!"

"He had a war to fight!"

"A war his friend caused! Altea wasn't some peaceful and happy planet! You know life doesn't work like that"

"I know they weren't cutting people up like you were"

"Please sit. It makes it so hard to have a conversation with you standing over there"

"I think I'm just fine here. You said you wanted to explain, so explain"

 Covering the stump of where her arm was, there was no blood, or oozing or... anything should come with losing a whole freakin' arm. He couldn't bring himself to look back at the sight, or to look Kre'el in the face. He was haunted by her oddly cute pig faced nose and curly blonde hair

"You know by now that the ship was an Altean prisoner ship. Alfor thought of himself a kind and generous king. He loved an extravagant lifestyle with his friends, bragging over how peaceful his world was. Even before Zarkon, bad Galra existed. Galra that took what they wanted without mercy. That wasn't a lie. The Galra in my blood wasn't out there by choice. I hated my blood because of it. Our family was shunned. It got slightly better when Zarkon and Honerva wed, then soon whispers spread of her madness. Blinded by his own ego, Alfor had his lions. Lions he handed to his friends, who weren't even Altean! Who he valued more than his own people. Instead of entrusting the future to the soldiers who'd lay down their lives in a heartbeat. So we protested. We screamed over Zarkon's threat and we're arrested for treason. We were arrested for threatening his much loved peace. Sentenced to spend our days working the mines for ore needed for him. For phoebs you could be held on Altea before you would be moved"

 Kre'el paused, letting her breathing settle before continuing

"There were 547 of us on that ship. 547 people he simply did not wish to deal with. We weren't even all Altean... but they stuffed us into pods and sent us away. None of us were conscious when it happened. When the wormhole we had entered was corrupted by the shockwaves of Altea being destroyed. By now your princess had escaped with her bumbling servant. For us we'd only just fallen asleep before we were waking again. Those not in the pods hadn't survived. Realising we were alone, many fled the ship and onto the planet we landed on. You have to understand, this ship was carrying everything through to the vilest people you could think of. All of us stuck together in the space with no foreseeable way off. Those who didn't kill themselves killed each other so they wouldn't starve. There wasn't enough food for us all. There was no rescue ship coming. Then the sickness began. Those who huddled close to ship at night falling ill first. We weren't medical experts or technicians. No. They were all dead. So long gone that their bones had crumbled when we crash landed. A few of us came together. When we crashed and the pods opened, there were those who locked themselves away in the bridge. Those who prayed and called it the "decision of the stars", called us wicked and tainted, who told us we all deserved to die. They died. They starved to death in the bridge because they believed that was the only choice. Phoebs had passed by now... So we broke into the bridge. We broke in and found the ship still had power, but do you know why it still had power? When we were put in the pods, our quintessence mixed with the ships as if to hold our consciousness until we woke. The ship had power because of our quintessence"

 Lance was starting to get a headache from trying to keep up. Dizzy and confused, he trembled as he walked over and dropped back down on the visitors chair.

 "So the ship was powered by your quintessence?"

That was the only thing important from everything she'd said so far. Kre'el nodded, her right hand

"Yes. Not all of it was transferred back in the crash. The corrupt wormhole changed the nature. The radiation fall out changed our bodies. We hungered for quintessence with no idea why. It took movements to unlock the ship. To finally open the logs. We didn't believe it at first. What was quintants for us, had been 9 thousand years. We shouldn't have been alive. We agreed to keep it secret, then one spoke. He screamed it out to the whole populace, then killed himself in front of them all. Things fell into chaos, reverting back to as they'd been after the initial crash. But activating the ship had turned the distress beacon on. Finally someone knew we were out there..."

 9 thousand years had to be a shock to the system. Allura had been heartbroken and shaken to her core to find she and Coran had slept for ten thousand.

 "The Galra came for us. Their ships small, yet plenty. So many people were cut down by them... They screamed in confusion, holding onto the notion they'd be rescued. The Galra had thought we might be a lion. That's all they came for. Many thought fighting back was useless. Most of us had no military skill. Most of us were sick and dying. When they found they no lion, they left us to die"

 Lance couldn't picture it without thinking of when they'd seen Hunk's parents back on Earth, in the hands of the Galra where they had no idea if they'd ever be rescued. His stupidly selfless nature found him sympathetic towards the abandoned criminals.

 "We had no food. No water. Only the desperate will to survive... When the secret of the ship being powered by quintessence spread further, there were many who gave their lives so the ship might fly again... by the end of the journey, only 180 of us were left. We found a planet with food and water. We settled. Changed our faces and took personal pods to other planets. Only to find that the Galra ruled all. Alfor had failed in his duty. The criminals he'd cast away and forgot from Altea, were now the last of the Altean's. The Galra were looking for the lions, but so were we. Especially the Red Lion. Alfor's hope and dream for Altea. We spent all the time we could searching, until he began to run low on power again. That's when we realised that there was an a whole universe of Galra in front of us. No one wanted them alive. They had no right to be alive. Our planet was gone from the maps. All hails went unanswered. The ship's cameras catching Altea's final moments. Alfor had destroyed it all by not listening to his people. His idea for a utopia impossible when not all people are born equal"

 Lance had shifted from sympathy to anger

"Are you seriously telling me, this was all because of a grudge against a man who'd been dead for 9 thousand years?! You said you found a planet, so why couldn't you be happy?"

"Could you be happy? If you woke up in the future and everything was gone? You don't get it. You're clearly loved and wanted! You didn't have to fight each day to live. You didn't have to watch your whole species grow ill and die. You didn't have to live as something less than human! Even when we left the planet, we still needed to return the ship frequently or we'd grow ill. It took us hundreds of deca-phoebs to establish ourselves. We shifted and blended in. Killed and took what we could. You've done the same. You killed and killed. You painted who ships red with the blood you spilt. You have no right to take the high ground"

 Lance wanted to scream. He also wanted to slap Kre'el senseless

"I've never killed someone who didn't deserve it!"

"How do you? How do you know that they deserved it? How do you know that was the right call to make?"

"They fucking tortured me, Kre'el. And you've got some sobbing backstory that we've heard a dozen times before. Boo hoo. Your precious king didn't do as you wanted. You could have found another way. There's always another way. You didn't need to start killing people to keep your ship running!"

"There was no other way. If you interrupt, I won't continue. I won't explain why it was you that we needed"

"You said you needed my quintessence..."

Kre'el burrowed back against her pillows. Lance releasing he'd interrupted again and was forced to play her game

"I'm sorry. Please continue"

 "As I said, we had no one. Nothing. Altea was gone, and building our own colony was slow. We took jobs for the those supporting the Galra, they didn't know what we were. We turned our backs on everyone to survive, took citizens from every planet we could. When the Galra built outposts, we helped. We filled their ranks and spread only as far as our region of space. We watched them crush everyone with well placed whispers. They were already experimenting on bodies by then and we needed the data. Then we started to grow sicker. The corrupt radiation from the ship... it'd become part of us. We couldn't leave. We couldn't stay. Children stopped being born... The children we had were sickly, most dying in their early years. We needed more people to power the ship. We needed time to find to a way to survive. We allowed the Galra to capture the ship. They couldn't move it off planet, so they sent scientists to investigate. Deca-phobes had passed between visits. They were strong. Galra genetics are impervious to most common diseases. Even half breeds live a long and mostly healthy life. We hated the Galra but we needed them. Our bodies were failing us. What else could we do? We shifted shape, we lied and said we followed the empire. We killed the teams that were sent to power the ship and studied their remains. The pods were all corrupt, taking the quintessence and powering the tainted Balmera at the core. You have no idea what it was like. My own daughter... she wasted away before my eyes..."

  Lance felt a tear roll down his cheek. Kre'el was right. He didn't know what it was like. He'd lost the thing inside of him before he knew it was there... but to have a daughter and to lose her...

 "Why me? Voltron was back. You could have turned to us..."

 Kre'el let out a laugh

"Alfor's precious Voltron. If Honerva hadn't been tampering with things she shouldn't have been, none of this would have happened. Voltron was built with no idea how it even worked. You showed up from nowhere. Then you disappeared again. You never once came close to our corner of the galaxy. We'd already been awake for a thousand years. We were dying and the only thing we had left was our hatred for Altea. You know a government can't operate on peace alone, but that gets swept under the rug. No one wants to talk about those not living happy peaceful lives, and when or if the media hears about it, they always want to know "why did no one step in?". It's all a farce. So when Voltron returned, we wanted the Red Lion. We wanted all the lions. The lions that should have stayed rightfully in the hands of Alteans"

 Lance shook his heads. He didn't get it. Kre'el had said Altea wasn't the peaceful paradise Coran looked through rose coloured glasses at

"It was their differences that made Voltron what it was..."

"Yet it took a group of humans to save the universe. We all hated you. We hated you and you returned Earth. Then we heard the most interesting of news. That a human born male was walking around with Altean marks. Can you imaging what that was like for us? A non-Altean species with the marks? We wanted you, but didn't know how to approach you"

"So you used Klearo?"

Kre'el nodded

"He wanted power. He a small man who thought himself large, so we helped him into the spotlight. We made small attempts at his life, so he'd have a need for a bodyguard"

"Why didn't you contact me... Why didn't you contact me when I landed on Erathus?"

"Because we didn't know how your body worked. He was supposed to monitor you and report. But you... Your natural magnetism outshone his. People wanted to hear from the Paladin who wanted peace for the people. The Paladin who'd tragically lost the love of his life"

"I would have fucking helped you!"

 Screaming at Kre'el Lance shot off the chair and over to the closest to the wall

"You didn't need to put me through that! You know what they did! Three fucking movements. Kept stabled naked like I wasn't even worth clothes! Do you understand what was it was like? I was hallucinating my ex-girlfriend watching the whole fucking time! These marks have ruined my whole fucking life! She ruined my life trying to help me! And I still don't know if I hate her or if I'm still hurt she chose the universe over me! You say you're a parent, you should have some idea what you wanted for you daughter! Was rape part of that? To be raped repeatedly and violently? To have Galra go crazy for your scent like you're a drug? Do you know what it fucking hurt? How much it still hurts? I can't have a normal love life with my boyfriend! Keith... God. He has the patience of a fucking Saint. I still feel them on my skin and hear them in my ear. I still fucking jump every time I see Galra and freak over the fact they can smell me. They raped me over and over until I couldn't speak. Sometimes nonstop all fucking quintant! So tell me, did you want that for you daughter!? Did you want that for anyone!?"

 Kre'el let out a sob. Lance whipping around so he was no longer screaming at the wall

"No. No. You don't get to cry!"

"It wasn't supposed to go that far. I didn't care if he tortured you. But I had no idea he'd do that to you. When we found you... When I looked into your eyes and saw your pain... I knew I messed up"

"Oh, you knew you messed up, so that makes it ok!?!"

"No! No it doesn't. I wish... I could take that from you... but I... I know what happened. I saw the results when I went to the hospital. The positive readings... and I grew selfish again"

Positive... Lance stumbled. All support gone from his knees. She'd known for that long... She'd known and hadn't helped him

"I thought..."

"Don't say it..."

"If..."

"Don't you fucking say it! If you ever fucking cared, even once you won't fucking say it"

"I put you in the club so you'd be safe... but talking with you... you had so much hate in your heart... and so much love. I wanted to hate you. I wanted to keep hating you... but the more time past... the less I could... I starved to waver on my mission. But I couldn't turn back, so when Daehra and Lucteal took you, I prayed for your sake you'd stay away. But you didn't. You wanted to fight even harder for those who'd been hurt... before I realised it, no one trusted me anymore. Lasandi was sent to be by your side and I was recalled back to the ship... I didn't want for you to be raped. That is a thing I wouldn't wish on anyone else... We just wanted your quintessence. Your reading were so high. We wanted to know how to raise our own... and how a human could carry so much without exhibiting more signs. When you zapped Keith, most of us were so excited... but I knew what it meant. You were showing signs of controlling your Altean magics. Someone who should never had had that power. We argued and I won. I told them you wouldn't let all you'd seen of our outpost experiments go. You were to brave and noble to do that..."

 Sinking down the wall, Lance wrapped his arms around himself. None of this needed to happen. None of it. He didn't feel brave or nobel. He felt so quiznakking stupid that he wanted to throw himself off the nearest cliff. Behind him, Kre'el wheezed and cough. Some monitor beeping

"We were last... the others have gone on... to the new home. I'm sorry Lance... I did love you... you were a friend... I didn't lie about that. I didn't want your friendship... but I still... valued you... I wish we could go back to those days and work together... I'm grateful... I met you..."

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

CSUAVS prt 47. Tonight's job

Lance's nerves started to grow as he walked with Shiro and Keith through the palace. Keith was still miffed about not being able to be in the same room as he and Kre'el, while Lance was trying not freak out over the fact that Kre'el could easily divulge all his secrets. It scared him more than each Galra they passed. More than when he'd shamefully screamed at Keith that he'd been raped. More than admitting that he had feelings for Keith and being swept away into a relationship with a man he still felt he wasn't worthy of. Every little thing had his heart racing in fear. His hands clenched as he grit his teeth, not trusting himself to breath through his mouth in case those pancakes ended up on his shoes. Both men at his sides knew he wasn't ok. Shiro said he smelt like dead mouse again, and Keith had growled at him over it, insisting that Lance smelt like rotten fruit. Neither scents appealing, or what he wanted associated with him. To him, he smelt like Keith. He could smell him all over his clothes and skin. He could almost feel his soft lips against his own... But there'd be no Keith in the same room as him. No retreating once he saw Kre'el. The Cuban's throat felt tight, as if the water he'd forced himself to sip while Keith ate, was filled with poisonous thorns that formed with each step closer to Kre'el he came. What did he say to her? "I'm sorry my friends shot you after you nearly killed Keith and I?". "Come here often?", or his personal favourite "Why didn't you ask me for help sooner?". Lance knew losing his temper wouldn't get him anywhere... but she was behind it all... If she was as old as the ship, she'd had thousands of years to change her ways. To find a peaceful way to get what she wanted or needed... Did the fact that she failed to find peace, mean that there'd never be a day when everyone found common ground? The thought was thoroughly depressing. His depression showing in his leaden steps. His whole body tingled with the feeling that this was a horribly horrible idea, and that he'd be absolutely rubbish at "interrogating" her. The room where Kre'el was being held was a converted laboratory. A long double sided window ran along the far length of the room, the space where Keith and Shiro would watch on. Stopping at the guarded door, Lance stumbled back as Veronica came out the room. Holopad in hand, and fierce scowl on her face. Veronica... he absolutely couldn't let her know... stumbling back, he smacked into Shiro's chest "Lance?" Looking up to Shiro, Lance's eyes were silently pleading with the man who wasn't surprised that his sister was there "You never said Veronica would be here..." "That's nice, little brother. We're not letting you be harmed by her" Tugging him away from Shiro, Keith wrapped his arms around Lance as Lance continued to stare at his sister in shock "Shiro, I don't think this is a good idea. It could get... pretty graphic" "Veronica is..." No. Uh uh. If this was happening, it was under his terms. If he had to go in there, have his secrets spilt to the world and be put so far out of his comfort zone that he didn't know where the hell his comfort zone was anymore, he had a right to do this in his own way "No. No. I'll let her die. I'll let her die without asking her a thing. I know you can stick her back in a pod, but if Veronica doesn't leave, then I'm not going in there" Lance's words took him by surprise, yet they summed up how he felt deep down. Veronica pushed her glasses up with her pointer finger "Lance, I'm a professional. Whatever you have to say..." "You're my sister V. You've been my sister since the first time you held me. Remember how it all was before the Galra? You know how bad things got... I don't want you listening to what happened. I don't want you thinking about what could have been prevented. I don't want you listening. Shiro, please. If you and Keith are listening, don't let Veronica listen" Shiro was on the edge of his trust circle. He was trying to let him further, but it was hard to be that way with his "childhood hero-cum-space dad". Veronica was out of the circle after their fight. He wasn't useless and he wasn't a burden. His mami had said so "I'm your sister. I want to be there for you" "You can be there by letting me tell you things in my own time" "In your own time? You have yet to make a statement over what happened out there. Keith made a statement to the Blades, but that was a phoeb and a half after the incident" "It's been two phoebs Veronica! Two! I'm not ready yet!" "You need to do your job" "I have been doing my job! I am doing my job. I know it ended up with a heap of trouble on your end, but you have no idea what it was like, and frankly I pray you never do. Shiro is the Commanding Officer of the Atlas, otherwise I wouldn't have him here either. No offence Shiro. I'm just sure that if you were in my place, you wouldn't want me there" Shiro got it. He dumped the unsure manner, as he rose to the full height of "Commander mode" "Veronica, the plan was for you to stand here and guard the door externally. Kre'el had stipulated that she will only talk to Lance privately. That's why Keith can't be in the room with them. Now. Lance, remember that we can hear you and if anything at all happens, we will intervene. I trust you to handle this. I know you can handle this. You've grown past the age where you need your hand held... That doesn't mean I won't... if you need... or Keith will. I just mean that... you've got this" Giving Shiro a tight smile, he appreciated his words. Keith nuzzled into his neck, pressing a kiss against the curve to his shoulder "Say the word, and we'll get you out" "We don't have a safe word" Lance missed the way Shiro rolled his eyes at them. He hadn't even meant it sexually so he wasn't thinking of it in that way "What about chocolate?" Chocolate could work "What if I forget?" "I'll be watching babe. I know how to read those moods of yours" Lance might have been offended if he wasn't doing everything he could to be brave right now. He'd waited so long for answers, yet now he was so close to them, he didn't know if truly wanted them. Once he knew, he couldn't unknow. Whatever Kre'el had to say, he would carry for the rest of his life "That makes one of us. Now, let's do this. Please. I want this to be over" "Ok, babe. I quiznakking wish I was going in there with you" "I know..." Lance didn't reply with "me too", as he knew Keith wouldn't be able to keep his temper. They needed Kre'el alive long enough to answer everything she could "I'll see you soon" Sitting propped up on the hospital bed, Kre'el's pale maroon form seemed to be paler. The marks on her cheeks glowed so softly they looked as if they'd flicker out of existence completely within doboshes. Swallowing hard, Lance forced his shaking legs over to the visitors chair where sat down on the very edge. He could smell the death rolling off Kre'el. An unsettling scent, kind of like burnt coffee mixed with the sweet scent of rotting meat. Watching as Kre'el's cracked lips parted, Lance still jumped when she spoke "Lance... thank you for coming to see me" "You didn't leave me much choice" Coughing, her breath rattled as she then rasped "I'm sorry. You're the only one who would understand" "I understand that you sold me to your stupid friends. Now two of my friends have to watch me talk to you. Who are you? I thought we friends. I thought of you as a genuine friend, but now I don't even know if Kre'el is your true name. And why... did you have a whole prison ship?" He'd been so close to asking "why me?", but chickened out "It wasn't supposed to happen how it did... none of it was supposed to happen" "Oh, so I'm meant to forgive you, just like that!?" "No. No... I... you had what I needed, but it's too late now" "You couldn't have just asked me for my help? Instead you dangle this job in front of me? Let them fucking torture me. Let them try to kill me. Because I had something you needed?!" Lance knew he was quick to jump to emotional extremes. He wore his heart on his sleeve and would do anything just to make everyone else happy. This was a rubbish idea. Absolutely quiznakkingly rubbish. "You never would have understood" "How can I when you won't explain anything?! You know exactly what they did to me. Over and over! You came to the hospital. You helped me get my job and my feet under me. Was it out of pity?! Or to keep you experiment close? Did he send you the footage? You told him to observe me... did you watch it?!" Rising from the visitors chair, Lance started to pace "Do you know what it's like?! I came back from the dead wrong! My girlfriend died and left me behind. I wanted to stay on Earth, because for some stupid reason I thought planting junipers would bring her back. I tore my whole family apart. But none of that compares to what Klearo did! Why didn't you stop him?!" "Lance... sit down" "Why should I?" Pushing herself up, Lance stopped pacing to stare as Kre'el tugged at the bandage around her left arm, just above her elbow. What did that have to with any of it? All he wanted was answers... Oh quiznak. Shiro was watching... he'd forgotten. Shit. Shit... He was letting him down by not being professional. Fuck. Leandro. Leandro. Not Lance. Not weak and worthless Lance. Pulling the fabric of the bandage loose, Kre'el freed her arm with one hard tug. Lance clamping a hand over his mouth as the skin began to stretch, her arm slowly tearing from her body in horrifically slow motion with a kind of stretching and popping noise as it did. Arms weren't supposed to do that! Throwing up in his mouth, he backed away from the Altean "I cannot maintain this body much longer, but before I die. I want to tell you my story... I want you to understand" Nope. He didn't want to understand. He wanted out... "Leandro, please. What I did wasn't simply for myself. I did what I needed for my people. The people that Alfor and Voltron abandoned" "Alfor didn't abandon you. He died!" "He turned his back on Altea!" "He had a war to fight!" "A war his friend caused! Altea wasn't some peaceful and happy planet! You know life doesn't work like that" "I know they weren't cutting people up like you were" "Please sit. It makes it so hard to have a conversation with you standing over there" "I think I'm just fine here. You said you wanted to explain, so explain" Covering the stump of where her arm was, there was no blood, or oozing or... anything should come with losing a whole freakin' arm. He couldn't bring himself to look back at the sight, or to look Kre'el in the face. He was haunted by her oddly cute pig faced nose and curly blonde hair "You know by now that the ship was an Altean prisoner ship. Alfor thought of himself a kind and generous king. He loved an extravagant lifestyle with his friends, bragging over how peaceful his world was. Even before Zarkon, bad Galra existed. Galra that took what they wanted without mercy. That wasn't a lie. The Galra in my blood wasn't out there by choice. I hated my blood because of it. Our family was shunned. It got slightly better when Zarkon and Honerva wed, then soon whispers spread of her madness. Blinded by his own ego, Alfor had his lions. Lions he handed to his friends, who weren't even Altean! Who he valued more than his own people. Instead of entrusting the future to the soldiers who'd lay down their lives in a heartbeat. So we protested. We screamed over Zarkon's threat and we're arrested for treason. We were arrested for threatening his much loved peace. Sentenced to spend our days working the mines for ore needed for him. For phoebs you could be held on Altea before you would be moved" Kre'el paused, letting her breathing settle before continuing "There were 547 of us on that ship. 547 people he simply did not wish to deal with. We weren't even all Altean... but they stuffed us into pods and sent us away. None of us were conscious when it happened. When the wormhole we had entered was corrupted by the shockwaves of Altea being destroyed. By now your princess had escaped with her bumbling servant. For us we'd only just fallen asleep before we were waking again. Those not in the pods hadn't survived. Realising we were alone, many fled the ship and onto the planet we landed on. You have to understand, this ship was carrying everything through to the vilest people you could think of. All of us stuck together in the space with no foreseeable way off. Those who didn't kill themselves killed each other so they wouldn't starve. There wasn't enough food for us all. There was no rescue ship coming. Then the sickness began. Those who huddled close to ship at night falling ill first. We weren't medical experts or technicians. No. They were all dead. So long gone that their bones had crumbled when we crash landed. A few of us came together. When we crashed and the pods opened, there were those who locked themselves away in the bridge. Those who prayed and called it the "decision of the stars", called us wicked and tainted, who told us we all deserved to die. They died. They starved to death in the bridge because they believed that was the only choice. Phoebs had passed by now... So we broke into the bridge. We broke in and found the ship still had power, but do you know why it still had power? When we were put in the pods, our quintessence mixed with the ships as if to hold our consciousness until we woke. The ship had power because of our quintessence" Lance was starting to get a headache from trying to keep up. Dizzy and confused, he trembled as he walked over and dropped back down on the visitors chair. "So the ship was powered by your quintessence?" That was the only thing important from everything she'd said so far. Kre'el nodded, her right hand "Yes. Not all of it was transferred back in the crash. The corrupt wormhole changed the nature. The radiation fall out changed our bodies. We hungered for quintessence with no idea why. It took movements to unlock the ship. To finally open the logs. We didn't believe it at first. What was quintants for us, had been 9 thousand years. We shouldn't have been alive. We agreed to keep it secret, then one spoke. He screamed it out to the whole populace, then killed himself in front of them all. Things fell into chaos, reverting back to as they'd been after the initial crash. But activating the ship had turned the distress beacon on. Finally someone knew we were out there..." 9 thousand years had to be a shock to the system. Allura had been heartbroken and shaken to her core to find she and Coran had slept for ten thousand. "The Galra came for us. Their ships small, yet plenty. So many people were cut down by them... They screamed in confusion, holding onto the notion they'd be rescued. The Galra had thought we might be a lion. That's all they came for. Many thought fighting back was useless. Most of us had no military skill. Most of us were sick and dying. When they found they no lion, they left us to die" Lance couldn't picture it without thinking of when they'd seen Hunk's parents back on Earth, in the hands of the Galra where they had no idea if they'd ever be rescued. His stupidly selfless nature found him sympathetic towards the abandoned criminals. "We had no food. No water. Only the desperate will to survive... When the secret of the ship being powered by quintessence spread further, there were many who gave their lives so the ship might fly again... by the end of the journey, only 180 of us were left. We found a planet with food and water. We settled. Changed our faces and took personal pods to other planets. Only to find that the Galra ruled all. Alfor had failed in his duty. The criminals he'd cast away and forgot from Altea, were now the last of the Altean's. The Galra were looking for the lions, but so were we. Especially the Red Lion. Alfor's hope and dream for Altea. We spent all the time we could searching, until he began to run low on power again. That's when we realised that there was an a whole universe of Galra in front of us. No one wanted them alive. They had no right to be alive. Our planet was gone from the maps. All hails went unanswered. The ship's cameras catching Altea's final moments. Alfor had destroyed it all by not listening to his people. His idea for a utopia impossible when not all people are born equal" Lance had shifted from sympathy to anger "Are you seriously telling me, this was all because of a grudge against a man who'd been dead for 9 thousand years?! You said you found a planet, so why couldn't you be happy?" "Could you be happy? If you woke up in the future and everything was gone? You don't get it. You're clearly loved and wanted! You didn't have to fight each day to live. You didn't have to watch your whole species grow ill and die. You didn't have to live as something less than human! Even when we left the planet, we still needed to return the ship frequently or we'd grow ill. It took us hundreds of deca-phoebs to establish ourselves. We shifted and blended in. Killed and took what we could. You've done the same. You killed and killed. You painted who ships red with the blood you spilt. You have no right to take the high ground" Lance wanted to scream. He also wanted to slap Kre'el senseless "I've never killed someone who didn't deserve it!" "How do you? How do you know that they deserved it? How do you know that was the right call to make?" "They fucking tortured me, Kre'el. And you've got some sobbing backstory that we've heard a dozen times before. Boo hoo. Your precious king didn't do as you wanted. You could have found another way. There's always another way. You didn't need to start killing people to keep your ship running!" "There was no other way. If you interrupt, I won't continue. I won't explain why it was you that we needed" "You said you needed my quintessence..." Kre'el burrowed back against her pillows. Lance releasing he'd interrupted again and was forced to play her game "I'm sorry. Please continue" "As I said, we had no one. Nothing. Altea was gone, and building our own colony was slow. We took jobs for the Galra. We turned our backs on everyone to survive. When the Galra built outposts, we helped. We filled their ranks and spread only as far as our region of space. We watched them crush everyone with well placed whispers. Then we started to grow sicker. Children stopped being born. We needed more people to power the ship. We allowed the Galra to capture the ship. They couldn't move it off planet, so they sent scientists to investigate. Deca-phobes had passed between visits.