#if i move that part to the next chapter it kinda starts a cascade with all the ones behind it

[icouldbemoreclever]

I get really hung up with worrying about if my fic chapters are relatively the same length as one another but like. Do people really care how long or short a chapter is, if in the end all the content is still there?

[sluttyminghao]

Part 1/?

✧ pairing: wen junhui x gender neutral!reader ✧ word count: 2k ✧ genre: smut ✧ warnings in this chapter: camboy!jun, masturbation, masturbating on camera, camboy!minghao makes an appearance ✧notes for this chapter: reader only makes an appearance at the end of the installment, i hope it makes sense as you read it! ✧ a/n: you asked, and i delivered! this is the first installment of going live! a series about camboy jun and his adventures! i hope you all enjoy, and if you would like to be added to a taglist pls inbox me! feedback is appreciated! ✧ synopsis: he’s a shy college boy who is stuck in financial difficulty, and his best friends gives him a suggestion that may or may not be a good idea.

A slight glance at the clock on his nightstand indicated that it was 10:49 pm, and he knew that within a matter of minutes he’d be doing the exact thing he said he would never do. His palms had grown sweaty and he felt his heart rate quicken at the thought, and all he could think to do was wipe his palms on his sweats. He remembers the conversation he had about his thoughts with Minghao vividly, even though it had happened months before his current situation.

“I just don’t see how you can do it, how do you not get embarrassed? Aren’t you being watched by...god knows how many people?” Junhui spoke between mouthfuls of ramen, immense heat rising in his cheeks at the nature of the conversation that had come up when talking about Junhui’s increasing level of financial difficulties. Minghao raised a brow at the older, before erupting into a fit of giggles and making Junhui cock one of his brows in confusion. Did he say something funny?

“Why would I be embarrassed about my livelihood?” Minghao began, wrapping some noodles around his chopsticks expertly and blowing them lightly to cool them down. “I make so much profit off of doing camming and making videos, that I’ve been able to pay my rent and amenities for the next six months, as well as keeping on top of all my art school debts,” he continued, an amused smirk finding its way onto his face at Junhui’s shocked facial features.

“Six months? That’s crazy... I’m basically living paycheck to paycheck at the minute,” he mumbled and let out a small sigh, picking at the small pieces of meat left within his ramen bowl with his chopsticks. “Well, that’s kinda what you get for working at a small and dingy diner run by a bunch of college students,” Minghao quipped while giving him a pointed look, letting his napkin fall to the table to signify he had finished his meal.

Junhui sighed. He knew Minghao was right, 99% of the time he generally was, but this was one thing he really didn’t want to admit to him. “But...would people recognise me? That’s one thing I really don’t want,” Junhui spoke shyly, and Minghao’s face softened towards his elder, before shaking his head slightly. “You can use blurring filters or wear items on your face so people won’t recognise you, that’s what I do, and no one knows who I am to this day.”

He thought a little more about it, and Minghao could practically see the cogs turning in his brain, deciding to offer a piece of advice to his struggling long-time friend. “Hey,” he spoke, gaining Junhui’s attention, “you should really think about it, especially if you need the money. With a face and a body like yours, I’m sure you’ll have thousands of subscribers in no time.”

Well, what did he have to lose? He sure didn’t have any shreds of dignity left, may as well give it a shot.

In all his years of living, he had been very well off financially, but in recent months his rent had become increasingly more expensive and the cost of living had jumped up exponentially. To his dismay, he found himself without a choice, needing the money as soon as possible so he would still have a roof over his head and the bare minimum of food. 

He had been staring at the webpage for the camming website for the past 45 minutes, trying to hype himself up, but he had just become increasingly nervous as the time had passed. Minghao had explained to him countless times that this website was very reputable and a great starting point for beginners going into camming, and he knew that he could trust the words of his younger friend.

But even still, the nerves would not stop pouring over him, almost acting like a cascading effect, flowing down his back like a waterfall and seeping into every crevice of his body.

He sucked in a breath before exhaling shakily and picking up his phone to call Minghao. He knew that if anyone was able to calm his nerves, it would be his long-time friend. He tapped on Minghao’s contact before placing the phone to his ear, listening to the phone ring a few times before he was met with Minghao’s groggy voice.

“Were you sleeping?” Junhui’s voice is quiet as he speaks into the receiver, awaiting his companion’s response even though he was almost sure he knew the answer already. “No, I was out feeding the ducks, of course, I was sleeping,” Minghao sighed sarcastically, and Junhui suddenly felt a pang of guilt for the late-night call to his friend. “What did you need, ‘Hui?” Minghao continued, sleep laced in his voice.

“I’m sorry for waking you up...I’m so nervous...I don’t even know how to start the camming videos…do you have any...pointers, maybe...” Junhui trailed off, and he could hear Minghao hum from the other end of the phone. He remained silent for a few beats, only further amplifying Junhui’s nerves to the point where his leg had begun to bounce incessantly.

“I think you just need to relax a little, maybe have a drink or two to settle your nerves,” he replied smoothly, wanting to end the conversation so that he could get back to sleep. “If you’re really worried, why don’t you just show everything from the neck down when you’re recording?” He continued, waiting for his older friend’s reply.

Junhui was contemplating the options laid out to him and decided to combine both, deciding he didn’t have anything to lose. “Thanks, Hao, I owe you,” he rushed, hanging up and throwing his phone on his desk and standing up to get himself a bottle of alcohol. He assured himself that he was only going to have a few sips to loosen himself up, but he figured that he may need to down the whole bottle by the night’s end.

A few swigs of his precious alcohol later, and he had finally built up the courage to remove his shirt but left his sweats on as a safety measure. Minghao was right, the alcohol definitely loosened him up, and before he had even realised what he was doing, he had pressed the record button and had started his live stream.

He didn’t know what he was doing, not a single clue. His mind was fuzzy and his last shreds of dignity left him the moment his pants were pulled down and thrown haphazardly to the side. The only thought that was now running rampant through his mind was how much he wanted to cum. He wasn’t even focused on the live video anymore, only focused on his hardening cock and the way his hand wrapped around it.

Normally when he got himself off, he would take his time and relish in the sensations, not wanting to rush. In his nervous and alcohol-fueled state, however, he wasn’t going to beat around the bush like he would if he was sober. His hand moved up and down the length of his cock rapidly, small whimpers eliciting from the man’s lips as he pleasured himself.

Junhui could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge the faster he pumped his cock, but he knew he didn’t want to cum just yet. He slowed his hand significantly to a steady pace, almost feather-like touches, and moved his free hand up to flick at his nipple, sighing at the sensation. 

Not that he would ever admit to anyone, but his nipples had always been extra sensitive and even just the slightest feather touch would have him reeling and wanting more.

The whines poured endlessly from his mouth, even as he built up his orgasm for a second time. He kept one hand on his cock, pumping up and down swiftly and gaining speed, while the other pinched at his nipples. It was getting harder for him to hold himself back, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer in the position he was in.

Before he could even think about stopping himself from cumming again, he felt the string snap in his abdomen and felt the hot streaks of white land on his stomach. He gasped at the feeling and let his hand continue to move steadily, letting the white streaks hit his chest. His head had grown fuzzy from the sheer intensity of his orgasm, and he could feel his hips lightly bucking up into his still closed fist.

When he was sure his orgasm had ebbed away, he removed his hand from his softening cock and sighed, leaning back in his computer chair. After a moment of stillness, his eyes widened upon seeing the small red recording dot on his computer, reminding him of the act he had just performed.

He clicked the stop button hurriedly and closed all his tabs before slamming the lid of his laptop shut. He couldn’t believe what he had just done; his mind was whirring with a thousand and one thoughts, his heart was about to leap right out of his chest, and he knew that there was no going back from the acts he had just performed.

He pushed himself out of the chair and headed towards his bathroom, showering in an attempt to get the cum off his body and somehow trying to scrub off the gross feeling he had from his lewd behaviour. It wouldn’t come off that easily, however, so all he could do was face the consequences of his actions and own them as Minghao told him to.

After a hot shower and a whole lot of contemplation later, Junhui knew that he would have to use his laptop again and see the damage that he had caused, so he decided to simply bite the bullet and take a look back at his video and see if anyone had commented or liked it. It didn’t seem likely in his opinion, since it was his first video and he had no subscribers, but there was a small glimmer of hope buried deep within him.

His eyes widened at the results in front of him. He truly could not believe the sight he saw when he clicked back on to his video to check for feedback.

200 new subscribers, 800 stars and 27 comments

He blinked rapidly, thinking it was all a hallucination. How could this be? He only sat in front of his computer for roughly 10 minutes jacking himself off and had garnered a huge response to it. He clicked the refresh button, thinking that it was simply a mistake on the website’s part. Surely he, a newbie to camming, did not just rack up over a thousand notifications from a ten-minute video.

When the page refreshed he saw the same notifications, except for one new comment that had caught his attention. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to look at just one comment and then head to bed, so he let his mouse hover over the little star-shaped notification icon and pressed on it. His eyes moved across the screen quickly, and he couldn’t help but feel the heat rise to his cheeks at the comment he had seen.

angelbaby96: you’ve got such a nice cock, and such pretty noises too. I would love to hear more of them sometime <3

[ms-indifferwnt]

“I’m Cold”

“I’m cold"

“And?”

“Can’t you give me your jacket or something?”

“Can’t you accept my proposal and marry me already?”

In which Prince Donghyuck’s parents are forcing him to get married and he decided to propose to the first girl he sees to shut his parents up

Genre: Prince!Lee Donghyuck x Maid!Reader, Angst, Fluff, Arranged Marriage (kinda), Slowburn

Warnings: Curse words, Suggestive (I’ll add more if there are)

Notes: Chapter 10 out of 13 of Im Cold. Im genuinely proud of this one, tell me what you guys think

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

Prev / Chapter 10 / Next

"You made me out as some kind of fool" Donghyuck raised his voice and looked at Y/n who was cowering at the anger the Prince was releasing "Why didn't you tell me about Hendery?"

You looked up at him "What?"

"The world thinks you are my Fiancé and you didn't think at all that I might wanna know if you're already in a relationship?"

"But-But why would that bother you?"

He froze, Why did that bother him? For the past couple of days he has been asking the same question, why would something like this be uncomfortable and why in the world did he care four days left and two weeks are up so why does he want to keep you more than ever especially now that he knows you do not belong to him? he looks down at his tea, bottom lip caught in between his teeth

"Your Highness?" You called and he lifted his head from looking down when he heard your voice and he see you, your head slightly poking in between the door to the tea room and he realized where he was. He just had a one sided, mental fight with you and he froze, he lost a mental fight by just a couple words, he rolls his eyes and massaged his temples, curling in on himself as if a scared animal, he bit his lip and closed his eyes, the shock and pain of everything that happened so far came crashing down and he covers his face while you entered the room with a worried expression "My Prince?" You called and he reached out for you, one hand in the air, with you following his action and moved to hold his hand, some of the maids that wee tasked to watch after Donghyuck watched as you helped the Prince sit up straight "What happened?"

Donghyuck knows that this is just him being a bit petty but his head was starting to ache from all of this and he still hasn't understood what the pain in his chest was. Ever since he has decided to join you in going home, the pain in his chest hurted more, the first it was he saw Lucas and you getting close then when you got hurt, then now after meeting both your brother and your boyfriend. He could brush it off but now, he can't even think straight.

The maids, once they saw the Prince curled their immediate reaction was to move towards him and make sure he was ok but you came first and had already assisted the Prince "Are you ok?" You kneeled down in front of him his hand covering his face while you held on to the other one that was reaching out, "Donghyuck?" You tried again slowly prying his hand out and away from his face only to be greeted to him crying, the tears were fresh and they wont stop, he attempted to wipe them away but they were still there.

Donghyuck tried to stop he did, of all people he doesn't want you to see him like this, but the moment that one tear dropped it all kept cascading down and he looks at you, you were kneeling and was now on the same face level as the Prince but the only thing  to see was how worried you looked, opening your mouth and letting go of his hands to wipe his tears and ask what could've caused this type of reaction from the crowned prince

The tears only fell more at the sight of you worrying over him and he places his head on your shoulder and you freeze "Just for a little bit" He whispers and closes his eyes, breathing in your scent to calm himself down, he wraps one arm by your waist, knowing you won't let him do this in a normal setting, he summons all of his remaining strength so say the next words "Let me put on a show" Let me hold you while I can

"Your Highness" You whisper "My knees are starting to hurt" you whisper and he smiles softly at the words, he lifts his head just by a little bit so it will no longer be heavy on your shoulders, letting you stand

The moment you did, Donghyuck had his hand grab and hold on to your hand and pulled you to sit on his lap, despite having enough space on the sofa he was currently sitting, In all honesty Donghyuck wasn't planning on you sitting on his lap, he was tugging you to sit by his side. You yelped and he raised his hands and pulled his head away in surrender, giving you a clear view of his swollen and red eyes and tears stained cheeks. It seemed he wasn't aiming for this outcome

You shifted off he lap and sat down by his side, he lowers his head and hides it by the crook of your neck and you straightened, surprised at the boldness of the Prince "Forgive me," He whispers "until my eyes are no longer swollen, I don't want anyone to see me like this" He shifts closer and kept his hand by your waist "Public Display of one's affection makes people uncomfortable, so no one will look this way" he whispers talking about the maids who were in fact looking at everything but the two of you

"I can ask them to leave" you whispered back and he hums "Your highness?"

"I don't want anyone to see, not even you"

You sigh "Please leave" And with that the maids bowed their head and left you and The Prince alone "What happened?" you shifted away from him and he sits up and turns away

"I said I didn't want you to see" He whines and you smile

"I'm sorry" He turns to look at you, the swelling and the redness of his eyes have gone down but it was still obvious that he cried from the tears that stained his cheeks, "You were upset because of me, right?" You smile and attempted to wipe the Prince's cheeks with your hanky

Yes. "Not exactly" He answered and sighed, letting you wipes his face "I was worried about you" He answered truthfully, "I'm sorry for not protecting you and even then it caused you harm"

"I told you, Your Highness, its alr-"

"Its not alright" He cut in "You got hurt and you cried in my arms, you were so afraid that you asked if I could stay in your room for the night, and when you asked to go back home and once you did, you cried into the arms of Hendery and then lost consciousness, what part of that is alright?"

"I'm sorry-"

"And stop saying your sorry" He says and pulls away from you, holding your hand "Please, Let me take care of you, you don't have to be strong, I want you to trust me the way you trust your family, I genuinely care about you Y/n and it hurts me to see you in pain so please," he bows his head and you gasped at the action not liking to see the Crowned Prince bow his head to you, pleading "Please let me take care of  you"

"Y/n" He calls once he spots heading in the direction of the lobby, after the scenario that happened this morning, this is the first time he has called for you.

After pleading Doyoung entered the tea room and Donghyuck, pulls away and stands, realizing that his words sounded exactly like a confession when he doesn't even understand his own feelings, he shakes his head, while you tilt yours cause you have no idea on what's going on "Please don't answer that" He whispers, he doesn't want to see which one'll hurt more, no and watch as you practically reject him or yes and make you choose between him and Hendery, it wasn't fair but Hendery had you first and your happy with him so who is he to take you away? "I'll call for you later, go eat breakfast" He smiles and just like it didn't look like he had a breakdown prior

"Y/n?" You blinked once the Prince snaps his fingers in front of your face "Are you ok? You're a little out of it"

You blinked and nodded "I'm ok" You smile and tilt your head "His Highness called for me?" You asked

Donghyuck tilts his head to the side and looks at the knights he has tasked to escort you "Please leave," he instructed and moved to settle beside you "Yes, I called for you, I wanted to ask about the issue about colors"

"Colors?" You asked with a slight tilt of your head

"Yes, colors" He offers his hand to lead you away, you stared at it before taking it "Its important that I get your opinion and" He pauses to bow to the knights by the door and lead you inside the ballroom and to a tray of sample colors, "Now pick"

"What for?"

"Just pick, any color at all"

"Prince Donghyuck"

"I'll tell you but pick a color first"

You pursed your lips but nodded and looked through the colors eventually picking out the color that catches your eye, and swiping it up and showing the Prince who takes it

"Pastel?" He asks to clarify if that was your chosen color, you nod and he smiles "Alright, So after I took you home and you met your family and-" he makes random hand movements to motion  for the people you met at the trip "Not only were you able to blow off some steam" He hands the color to a planner "Use this as your center, find other colors that match with this but pastel" He instructs and turns to you to continue his earlier statement "I was able to encounter valuable information" He takes your hand and leads you to a table and takes some pictures of flowers "Here, I'm thinking of these flowers or would you prefer the heliotrope?" he shows you the pictures of Peonies "they'd match well with the color you chose," He nods "Lets go with Peonies" He informs and nods at the gardener

"Your Highness, forgive me but I still don't understand why I'm here"

He nods and looks at you "Not only were you able to blow off some steam" He continued, letting go of your hand and placing his in his pockets "I also received valuable information"

"Information? about how strict my brother is?"

"No" He pouts at your teasing which was met with a smile, his heart skips "Your Birthday"

You blink "This is for my birthd-" You asked but that was rhetorical no wonder he asked you for what color or flower you prefer "No, Your Highness, You can't"

"I can" He corrected " and besides the King and the Queen also ordered this, so there really is no backing out now. Good news we'll invite anyone you want, Bad news I'm inviting the other Princes and there Girlfriends so expect to be flocked"

You looked at him "Why?" You asked genuinely confused "Two weeks will end exactly after my birthday"

He nods, sadly. It was just a moment but his eyes showed nothing but sadness before he smiles "Which will be the best birthday present" He leads you out of the ball room "Don't you agree?"

"You've started to enjoy the Patio don't you?" He teases when you lead him there after eating lunch with him and sat down on the sofa a bit far from the Prince "You're always here"

"Its relaxing" You answered and relaxed into the seat and looked out into the garden "It reminds me of home"

He looks a you and watches ho your hand was placed on the skirt, your posture relaxed and calm and he smiles. He didn't realize how much he wanted to see you like that 'till he saw you

"Thank you" You said softly and looked at him and he tilts his head "For a lot of things, for taking care of me and protecting my Grandparents home," He smiles at the memory of when he first brought you to a meeting  "And then that man who was making me uncomfortable, and then giving me sweets when I get upset" You laugh, Donghyuck looked away, a hand to his chest he can feel and hear the rapid beating against his chest and ears "Even that time you and I fought, you still told Yuta Oppa where my favorite shop was" He looks at you as you closed your eyes and giggled. Donghyuck was mesmerized at the sight, the afternoon sun bouncing off the patio floor and against you making it seem as if your glowing and angelic. Donghyuck paled, why is he seeing you like this? "And for protecting me against the Duchess and her daughter"

He swallowed and forced a smile "You deserve everything, I want you to be happy" He said truthfully "You don't need to say thank you to something that I'm willing to do anything for"

She nods and leaned against the sofa before smiling "Still, I'm very thankful"

He coughs and looks to the side to spot one of the butlers and he calls for him as you take your phone out when you felt a notification "Your Highness, Future Crowned Princess" He greats and you looked at him

"Crowned Princess?"

"He's not wrong" Donghyuck answers "Is that wine?"

"Yes, your Highness" He nods and starts to explain "Lord Taeyong and the King have asked for it"

"Great" Donghyuck says and motions with his hand "Get me a glass"

"Pardon?"

"You heard me"

He nods and places some wine in a glass as you leaned close to the Prince to whisper "Your Higness, its the afternoon"

He turns his head to look at you "I know"

"Here you go your Highness" the butler hands it off to the Prince

Donghyuck drinks it  "Thank you and uh leave that bottle with me" You and the butler stared at the Prince's request before he nods "Get The King a new bottle" He instructed and drank wine again

"Are you ok?" You asked "Why drink at a time like this?"

"I just needed to think" He answers and you tilt your head waiting for him to elaborate but he didn't

Donghyuck was stuck in his own mind, sipping wine in between. This is insane, Why haven't I ever thought about this before? Was I that dense or in denial? Oh this is insane, I can't even think straight- "May I go out your Highness?" Your voice broke through his thoughts and he looks at you

"Yeah, where are we going?" He asks and puts the the wine down

You tried not to smile "Just me your highness"

"Nonsense," He answers and looks at you "I'll go with you"

"You have schedules tomorrow" You pointed out and he shakes his head, you chuckled and showed him your phone "you do, and Doyoung Oppa has personally tasked me to make sure you do them, You've been neglecting your duties, your highness"

"I can move them" He huffs

You laugh "You did that yesterday, I'll be ok"

"Fine," He relents "but you're taking some of the knights from Honoris"

"No Your Highness, I'm just going home again, I don't need knights from the Honoris"

"You need an escort, its either The Honoris or me?"

You pout and Donghyuck had to bite his lip to remind himself that the sight infront of him is not a dream "One Knight from Honoris then and Your Highness don't bite your lip" You scolded and he stops "The natural tint of your lips will lessen if you do that"

He blushes and takes out his phone, clearing his throat and texting someone "I'll task Sir Yangyang with you" He changes the topic

"But Sir Yangyang might-"

"He knows about the deal" He cuts off "Yanyang will protect you so you don't have to worry"

You nodded "But I wanted to say that I wanted to spend time with Hendery"

He stops and slowly nods "Yeah, of course" He slowly looks at you and forces a smile and grabbed the wine from the table "I'll inform Yangyang then" he says and takes a drink

You opened your mouth to speak when your phone rang  and he rolled his eyes once he spots the caller ID: Dery💕 "Excuse me" You murmur and stood up to answer it a bit far from the Prince who refilled his glass of whine

Donghyuck looks at you and watches as the corner of your lips lifts to a smile and he takes a sip, dialing a familiar phone number and hearing ring he waits patiently for it to be answered

"Hello?" Mark says from the other line, "Wait, one second, Haegyong I swear I'm going to snarl when I meet your brother again just for the sake of seeing that face again"

"Yeah take your time" Hyuck replied

"Ok, I'm back" Mark says and Donghyuck can hear the sound of him sitting down on a chair "what's up?" Donghyuck wasn't able to reply cause the first thing he notices is you, you laughed at something Hendery said and it made Donghuck's blood boil "Hyuck?"

"Sorry, I was," He takes another gulp "thinking"

"How's Y/n? I heard about The Duchess scandal, is she ok?"

"yeah, she's ok. It scared her but she's ok"

"That's great, wait are you," Mark stops and listens to Donghyuck pouring himself another glass "Are you drinking?"

"Yeah"

"What Happened?"

Donghyuck extends his arm so Mark can hear your side of the conversation "Yeah, I asked his Highness and he allowed me to go, with an escort of course. A knight, Sir Liu Yangyang. I know you've heard of him" You laugh and coo "Hendery!" You scolded and Donghyuck places it back to his ear

"Who-?"

"Her Boyfriend"

"Oh." Mark answers and bites his lip "That's why you're drinking?"

"No"

"Then why?"

"Because my dumbass just realized how fucking stupid I am" He cries and takes another sip

"You're over exaggerating"

"No I'm not. Cause Why of all times did I have to think about it now?  or why of all people its her? or why, why of all possible 'worst case scenario' I have ever thought through my head, why, why dear lord, why this?"

"Hyuck" Mark starts and Donghyuck places his phone away from his ears once he noticed You walk towards him Your phone in your hands

"My Prince, I'm a bit sleepy" You started and he nods, smiling softly at you "May I be excused?"

"Yes, you may" He answers and stands "Get some rest, I'll call you for dinner, ok?" he reaches to hold your hand to lead you to your room

You shake your head "No thank you, I can go myself" You smile

He nods again and lifts your hand to give you a small kiss on your knuckles "Alright, be careful"

"Yes I will, Thank you" You bow and left the Patio in the direction of your room, Your phone was in your hand and he could see a clear view that your call with Hendery hasn't finished yet, he bites his tongue, anything to draw the pain in his chest away

"Hyuck?" Mark's voice drew him back to reality when his eyes watched you until you disappeared from view

"Hyung" Donghyuck's voice was shaky at best and he collapsed, sitting on the chair his hands in his face "Hyung it hurts" Mark stayed quiet on the other side as he waits for Donghyuck to elaborate "I love her Hyung," He sobs quietly into his hand and Mark bites his lip at his friend's confession "Why does loving someone hurt so much? I want to keep her Hyung," He pleads "I want to marry her, and be with her but, but, but why? Everything hurts Hyung"

I’m Cold Taglist:

@staysstrays @tyongf-sunflower99 @jackyeongljin @rebel-lious-alien @daydreamiies @channiespup @jaeshark @itlittlefangirl @ncttboo @manutuankim @annetsocial @hyuckiesoftie @little-precious-baby @sunshinedhyuck​

If you wanna be added, leave a comment♡♡

[nincompoopydoo]

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— HYMN OF THE LOVESICK ; PART 5 / ?

( gif from this beautiful gifset by @knightwayne )

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 2k

SUMMARY: Alfred definitely knows something about Bruce that you’re not willing to think about and Bruce has an epiphany that changes the way he sees you.

A/N: Guess who forgot which day pbr is usually posted? This idiot here. God, I’m sorry and this chapter can be boring. Next chapter will have a lot more going on, I promise. Also, this might end in the next chapter or two. Enjoy, folks.

WARNINGS: Kinda dramatic because I’m dramatic.

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

Driving through the Wayne estate gives you a sense of much-needed peace. The never-ending tunnel with walls of identical colossal pine trees as you faintly hum to Aretha Franklin over the low whirring of the running engine. It’s a quarter to noon, and the sun doesn’t seem to shine in the city of Gotham—clouds of grey constantly shield its optimum shine, only to ever allow rays to seep through the gaps in the moving Autumn wind. You don’t mind it and you never did, growing up in the city left clouds unnoticed to you unless it signified the arrival of a thunderstorm. Weather and nature are the least of your concerns but you would appreciate it now and then.

The tunnel of trees comes to an end as a clearing of extensive fields emerges into view. What is left of the Wayne Manor still stands with ostentation, despite its skeleton along with its dignity rotting away to be eventually consumed by mother nature herself. There’s a sense of eeriness to it; you find it odd how a building could seem so alive at times, like it's watching you, despite its apparent decay.

You turn your head away and focus on the road.

A glance at your hand on the wheel, you’re reminded of last night, when his hands held yours—it burns at the mere thought of his gentle touch. And the drive home, silent with the occasional glances and small smiles. You recall how the passing streetlights cascade hues of orange on his wearied expression and how his eyes were bright when they flit to your figure in the passenger seat for just a moment. Something must have changed between the two of you, but you can’t quite tell what. Maybe it’s your undying love for Bruce. Maybe he feels the same way. You snort to yourself, alone in your car, one can only dream but it doesn’t mean they all come true. Bruce may love but he doesn’t commit. You can’t commit too. Now, you’re starting to believe you’ve been lying to yourself.

The glasshouse comes into view as you steer around the bending road and into the driveway. It contradicts everything the manor was but only shared its sense of glory. You like the glasshouse, less deafening and structured with the purpose of bareness and vulnerability but its dark furnishings keep it grounded and secure. Its sense of balance tricks your mind into thinking you’re stable. His car is still around, parked by the porch but you don’t see him, ambling around the household.

Switching off the ignition, you snatch the paper bag from the passenger seat and clamber out of the car. Darker clouds begin rolling from afar, your hair flying in the strong wind. A storm is coming, you’re sure of it. One of the rare times it rains during the season. You dread the thought of having to drive back into the city and across Westward Bridge. Driving over bridges built over the water in the rain scares the heck out of you.

As you swing the car door to a close, you hear the shuffling of feet amongst leaves behind you. Alfred, with a barrel of chopped wood—stocking up for the winter. There’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes albeit startled by your sudden presence. He mentions your name with endearment; you greet him with a small smile. You always liked Alfred. You enjoyed his company.

“What a pleasant surprise seeing you here,” he says, pushing the barrel aside as he nears you. “I’m afraid you just missed Bruce. He left for Metropolis an hour ago—duty calls.”

You nod, ignoring the clench in your heart. He hadn’t told you anything but frankly, you weren’t expecting him to anyway.

“Well, I just came by to drop off this,” You lift the paper bag, swaying it a little within your grasp. “As a thank you gift, you know.” Alfred smiles at this, gestures towards the house in a beckoning manner. “Come on in, I’ll make you some tea.” Before you could even protest, he’s gently guiding you to the door by the shoulder. It’s hard to say no to Alfred, especially when he offers tea.

-

Your mind wonders as you watch the drizzle of rain form ripples in the lake. You sit on a chair with a contemporary structure to it; it digs into your lower back, due to your bad posture. Uncomfortable but nice-looking and great armrests. Contradicts everything a chair should be. Alfred emerges from the kitchen with a black ceramic mug in hand, steam from the brewed tea lingering above it. He holds an identical mug, for himself. With two hands, you clasp onto the mug with acceptance, a radiant appreciative smile upon your lips. “Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.” Alfred shoots you a look of disdain, “I’ve told you many times, Alfred is fine.” Taking a sip, you shake your head, a smile still lingering. “No way. I have too much respect for you to call you by your first name.” Alfred mirrors you, settling for the chair to your right, swiftly sliding the scatter of papers to the corner of the table. You find it easy to fall into a natural conversation with the older man—the two of you are mutuals after all of a certain billionaire. Yet, Alfred is more of a father figure, having practically raised Bruce and you, well, it’s complicated. It always is. You don’t know where you stand in his life, and you're not sure if you want to know.

“Anyway, where have you been? I haven’t seen you in weeks.” It’s true. The usual sight of the butler sauntering around the glasshouse or somewhere in the Wayne Estate was absent during the last two weeks. Alfred is always around, his disappearance was glaring, impossible to go unnoticed.

He shifts in his seat, placing his mug on the table, teaspoon moving with a soft clang. “I was visiting family back in England. I appreciate that you have noticed my absence,” An eyebrow raises, your laugh comes out more like a huff. “Always, Mr. Pennyworth.”

Family. Mother. Dinner—you remember the dinner with your mother on Sunday night, and you’re the host. The host hasn't decided on the menu for tomorrow’s meal. Oh God, it’s tomorrow. Procrastination is your friend but your family’s expectations for you aren't. If you pop enough wine bottles, maybe she'll be too drunk to be disappointed by the end of the night.

And the wedding. The mere thought makes you sick. You don’t want to bring a date, but you don’t want to be alone. Weddings, love, couples—it makes you tick. It’s a glaring reminder of how your love life is an absolute disaster and your inability to maintain relationships. It’s hopeless, you’ll die a spinster and everyone lives happily ever after.

“Are you alright?”

It’s funny how those three words have been the most frequent words you would hear from those around you. You appreciate the concern, really, but you can’t help but feel there’s a stronger and deeper meaning to those words. It’s a question of assurance, a reality check, and a realization that you might be broken. Everyone is broken—in their own ways.

Although you seem reserved to some people, your tendency to open up about your issues to those close to you contradicts that though you instantly regret it. Especially when people tell you to change. You hate change. It’s terrifying.

You pause, suddenly feeling...fidgety. Yet, in the words of Bruce: In Alfred, you trust.

Remember, keep it light. You don’t want to haul all this luggage of yours onto an aging man. He’s already got Bruce’s luggage.

“My cousin’s getting married in two weeks and,” you sigh, he listens intently. “And as pathetic as this sounds, I really don’t want to go to it alone.”

Your words are direct, straightforward and you sound like a whiny teenager or the main character in a Wattpad story but truth be told, there’s an underlying meaning to it and you know, Alfred knows it. You just don’t want to admit it.

He takes a beat, assessing your sentence like he’s a therapist, wanting to select his words carefully. “Well, I don’t think you’re pathetic. It’s...understandable,” he flashes you a pointed look and you find yourself straightening your back. “Why don’t you ask Bruce?”

Your brain must have short-circuited at that moment.

Oh, hell no. Not in a million years.

You’re shaking your head, laughing nervously. “No, no. No. Never. I couldn’t possibly ask him to do that. He’s already done so much for me—”

“You’ve done a lot for him too.”

A pause, words stuck in your throat. You just look at Alfred through confused eyes. You’re not sure what that means. He’s staring at you with a knowing look. You sigh, shaking your head in denial once more. “No, that’s...that’s not true.”

It’s almost infuriating how stubborn you can be sometimes that it’s even irritating yourself. You’re staring at your fingers, playing with the tag attached to the teabag by a thread. As far as you’re concerned, Bruce is...the greatest friend you’ve ever had. Through thick and thin, he’s been there for you. He’s always there. It’s partly the reason why you have fallen for him in the first place. Hard. He’s easy to love when he wears his heart on his sleeve. It’s rare but it’s beautiful. You almost feel ashamed to be allowed to see him in that light.

“Bruce will do just about anything for you,” Alfred says calmly as he watches you avoid eye contact. “And I know, you’ll do the same for him.” You throw your eyes at the older man as he cops you a look. Your heart is beating so fast, so thunderous, you hear it in your ears. He’s right and you know it. That accidental kiss to your forehead on the night you asked him to come for the play comes back to mind in a flash. It feels like a mark on your forehead, it feels like it’s burning.

“Would you like a scone with that?” He’s pointing to your tea and with that, he’s off to the kitchen once more, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

-

It’s late—a quarter to four in the morning. He spends most of his nights in the Batcave, hidden away from all the sounds and tumult of the world, shrouded in the darkness as the light of the computer screen cascades on his tired eyes. He ambles through the glasshouse, weary feet against hardwood floors, body begging to lay on grey sheets though he dreads a vacant bed.

He strains his eyes peering into the gloom when he perceives a paper bag, sitting idly on the table by the window. Nearing it, there’s a yellow post-it note stuck onto the bag and under the gentle light from the moon that reflects against the lake, he can make out words written on it.

It’s from you.

Thanks for coming to the play. I would have bought you something else, but I’m really broke. Sorry. I owe you one.

A drawn heart follows it. It’s tiny. His chest feels warm.

He should have recognized the paper bag because inside, there are four bagels. Four Asiago bagels. He laughs, it comes out more like a puff of hot air, feeling the warmth that resides in his chest spreading throughout his body.

Then, it hits him like a bullet to the heart. The impact is strong, powerful. Your impact on him is strong, powerful. There’s no mystery to his feelings for you but at this moment, he’s completely certain. For the first time in life.

He loves you.

Bruce staggers into the chair, hand carding back the strands of his hair. He can’t keep doing this to you. Whatever the hell is going on. Your friendship, the...stupid agreement. He wants none of it because it feels like he’s constantly going around in circles.

But what do you really want, Bruce?

TAGLIST

@raineeace

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch54: The Time Heist

Intro: The team split and head to their various places and points in time to retrieve the stones. But of course, it doesn’t all go to plan and one of them pays the ultimate sacrifice…

Warnings: “Language!”, Character death- we all know what’s coming with this one, angst.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: Will the real @angrybirdcr​ please stand up...and take credit for those edits!

Chapter 53

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“You’re wearing that?” Tony looked Thor up and down, taking in the scruffy grey-zip up hoody and red sweater he wore.

“Yes, what’s wrong with it?” Thor glanced down at himself.

“You look like Santa Clause with a crystal meth addiction.” Tony replied. Thor frowned, his eyes narrowing as Rocket began to laugh. 

As they continued to bicker about Thor’s appearance, Steve looked up  to see Katie emerging from the locker room, dressed in the first cat-suit he could remember seeing her in. His pants instantly felt a little tighter round the crotch as it clung in all the right places, especially now her figure was slightly different to what it had been eleven years ago. Mind you, she still looked extremely passable as a 2012 version of herself and Steve found himself wondering how on Earth he had managed to actually fight any aliens back then when she looked as hot as she did. 

She caught his gaze, flashed him a smile which he returned and she took one of the GPS bands off Tony as he handed them out to the assembled team. One by one, as the bands were activated, the red and white Quantum Tunnel suits formed around each of the Avengers. Steve picked up his shield, and nodded around to his team.

“Let’s go.” Together they strode through the hangar, Steve leading them towards the large, glass platform with the early morning sun cascading through the large glass hangar doors from where it was just starting to peak over the trees. As they walked, Katie looked over her shoulder at Natasha, winking and the red head grinned back at her, biting her lip excitedly.

As everyone took their place around the glass platform, Banner behind the control panel, Steve looked around and cleared his throat.

“Five years ago, we lost. All of us. We lost friends, we lost family, we lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams, you know your missions. Get the stones, get them back. One round trip each. No mistakes. No do-overs.” He took a breath and Katie smiled to herself as he continued “Most of us are going somewhere we know. But it doesn’t mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other.” Another breath. “This is the fight of our lives. And we’re gonna win.”

At that point Tony gave Steve a look, his eyebrow raising slightly, a soft smile playing on his face. Steve met his face, with a determined expression of his own. “Whatever it takes.” He nodded to his Brother-in-Law before he looked around at the team. “Good luck.”

“He’s pretty good at that.” Rocket conceded, his arms folded.

“Right?” Scott jerked his thumb towards Steve and Katie smiled.

“All right. You heard the man. Stroke those keys, jolly green.” Tony called to Banner.  

“Trackers engaged.” Banner nodded before joining them on the platform.

Katie took up her position between Natasha and Steve, making sure her GPS was set to the right time and date.  

“You okay?” Steve asked softly, turning to look at her.

“As okay as I can be given I’m about to time travel back to an alien invasion.” She muttered back and Steve chuckled as she turned to her left to look at Natasha. “When we get back you and me are cracking open that bottle of Kauffman vintage that I know you hid from Thor in your room.”

Natasha gave a grin. “Deal. Hey Rogers!” Steve turned to look at her, his brow arched.

“See you in a minute!” Nat wriggled her shoulders and eyebrows excitement and he huffed out a laugh at her enthusiasm. This was the most animated he had seen her about anything in the past five years.

The machine began to whir slightly as it lit up, glowing like spotlights, and the mechanism above their heads shifted. Their helmets all engaged and a second later they were sucked from the platform and hurtling through the Quantum Tunnel, back through time.

It felt like her entire body was being squeezed through a very small space, and just as it was starting to become really uncomfortable, the pressure released and Katie’s feet landed on the ground in the middle of a side street in New York, a block or so away from the tower. She stumbled a little, Steve’s strong hand catching her arm to steady her and she blinked, shaking off the dizzy feeling. As she turned to look for the rest of her group, the sounds of cries, screams, gunfire filled her ears as the red and white suit vanished from around her.

“All right, we all have our assignments.” Steve looked at everyone. “Two Stones uptown, one Stone down. Stay low. Keep an eye on the clock.”

At that point they all whirled round as 2012 Hulk passed, smashing everything in his way. Bruce put his hand on his face, embarrassed, as Steve turned to look at him.

“Maybe smash a few things along the way.” He suggested.

“I think it’s gratuitous, but whatever.” Bruce muttered, tearing his shirt off. He walked over to a car and lightly punched it, making a small dent, all the while making growling noise which Katie doubted would scare a kitten. Then he picked up a motorbike and threw it at a wall, wincing as it smashed before he continued his journey down town.

The rest of them parted to their own assignments, Tony and Lang taking off, Katie and Steve making their way to the entrance of Stark Tower.

“First rule of not being seen?” Katie stopped at the door and looked at her husband.

“Don’t hide by any chance?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You got it.” “Yeah, well I kinda figured it might be the same as the whole going on the run mantra.”

“Got to hustle, guys. Things look like they’re just about wrapped up here.” Tony’s voice sounded in their ears.  

“Got it. We’re approaching the elevator now.” Steve replied, following Katie as she strode confidently across the Tower Lobby.

She was right, no one paid them the least bit of attention as they stepped into the lift, everyone was too busy running around in a blind panic. Katie smirked to herself as the door shut. Pressing her palm to the pad at the side, she selected the button for the floor which housed Tony’s office, where they were going to hide until it was their time to make a move.

“Uh, Mr. Rogers. I almost forgot that that suit did nothing for your ass.”

Katie sorted and Steve rolled his eyes.  

“No one asked you to look, Tony.” He snapped, exasperatedly.

“It’s ridiculous.”

“I think you look great, Cap. As far as I’m concerned, that’s America’s ass.” Scott chipped, and that was when Katie gave in and began to laugh as the elevator stopped.

“I like your ass.” She grinned up at him and it was his turn to laugh as he followed her out.

“It’s all yours, Baby.” 

***** Up on the Party Floor, Tony was smirking to himself at having managed to successfully wind Steve up again on a job. Well, would it really be an Avengers Mission if he didn’t?

He and Lang ducked out of the way as the elevators opened and the SHIELD-slash-HYDRA team lead by Rumlow and Sitwell entered the floor.

“Who are these guys?” Lang asked.  

“They are SHIELD, well, actually Hydra. But, we didn’t know that yet.” Tony explained

“Seriously, you didn’t? I mean…they look like bad guys.” Lang continued.

“You’re small, but you’re talking loud.” Tony said, an edge to his voice. He was getting kind of tired of people pointing out the various flaws in judgement or errors to their methods when they went back over past missions.

“On my way down to coordinate search and rescue.” 2012 Rogers spoke. Tony had to smirk. Steve always denied he had changed that much, but he really was as far a cry from that pompous, stick-up-your-ass jerk as he could get.  

Tony watched Loki transform into Steve for a second in imitation and the Billionaire had to snort. As far as imitations go it was pretty flawless. Then, as Loki was gagged and lead way by Thor he spotted that his 2012 self was tapping at the security pad on a briefcase which contained the Tesseract.

“All right, you’re up, little buddy.” He spoke to Lang “That’s our stone.“

“Alright.” Lang nodded, speaking from Tony’s shoulder. “Flick me.”

There were so many things wrong with that instruction, but Tony didn’t have time to unpack them right there. Instead he did as he was told, flicking the ant sized Lang straight towards the box where he scrambled up Tony’s arm, to his beard and then down his top.

Tony remembered with amusement the next bit. This was when Hulk had tried to take the elevator. Grinning he watched as his 2012 self-informed Banner that the maximum occupancy had been reached, and 2012 Thor told him to take the stairs. In a fit of temper Hulk punched at the elevator door once it was shut, before grumbling to himself as he headed to the other side of the floor to get to the stairs. With a smirk, Tony backed up, threw himself out of the window, his suit reforming round him. 

*****

Katie and Steve found their floor completely deserted. As such, they’d been stood, hovering by the elevator waiting for the signal which came over their radios not long after they had heard Lang tell Tony to ‘flick him’- yeah, Katie and Steve both thought there was a lot wrong with that instruction.

“All right, Cap, Kiddo. I got our sceptre in the elevator just passing the 90th floor.”

“On it.” Steve hit the call button.

“You remember what happened last time we were in an elevator full of HYDRA dickheads?” Katie looked up at Steve. He snorted, and was just about to answer back to assure her he didn’t intend on flinging them out of the side of this one from almost twenty storeys up, but he didn’t get chance. The elevator doors stopped and then opened. Katie and Steve both glanced at the STRIKE-slash-HYDRA agents, Sitwell and Rumlow both doing a double take as they saw them. Steve gestured for Katie to go in first, and she did, turning to the button pad.  She randomly selected a floor below them before she moved to the middle, standing by Steve.

“Captain. I thought you were coordinating search and rescue?” Sitwell looked at Steve.

“Change of plan.” He stated simply as he turned to face the elevator doors as they closed.

“Hey, Cap. Nova.” Rumlow spoke, glancing over his shoulder at them both.

“Hey, Brock.” Katie smiled. It fell silent for a while, the situation feeling familiar to the two Avengers, as they noticed that the agents were sharing nervous glances. Steve looked around, before he spoke again.

“I just got a call from the Secretary. Agent Stark and I are gonna be running point on the scepter.”

“Sir?” Sitwell frowned, turning to face him. “I don’t understand.”

“We got word there may be an attempt to steal it.” Katie supplied, holding his gaze.

“Sorry, guys, but I can’t give you the sceptre.” Rumlow shook his head and Katie saw he was reaching for his gun.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to call the Director.” Sitwell began.

“That’s okay. Trust me” Steve insisted as Katie reached out and wrapped her hand around Rumlow’s wrist, fully anticipating there was going to be a struggle, but thanks to Steve’s quick thinking, it never came.

He leaned forward, his mouth close to Sitwell’s ear. “Heil HYDRA.”  He whispered, loud enough for the agents around them to hear. Sitwell looked up at him, Steve simply gave him a knowing nod and Rumlow glanced at Katie. She released his wrist smiling at him.

“You kept that quiet, Stark.” Rumlow looked at her.

“Isn’t that supposed to be the point?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Touche.”

The elevator stopped and Katie nodded to Steve.

“If you’ll excuse us.” He gestured to the case which held the sceptre. With a slight hesitation, Rumlow handed it to him and Sitwell moved to allow them to step out. They began walking away from the door, exchanging a smug glance as they went, taking care not to hurry or appear suspicious. Then, as soon as they were out of view, Katie turned to Steve grinning.

“Heil HYDRA? You clever bastard!”

“I have my moments.” Steve shrugged. “What floor are we on.”

“Errr, twentieth.” She said as she spotted the floor number on the wall. “Oooh, if we head down the stairs to the fourteenth, that’s where the ceiling of the atrium starts. There’s glass walkways and exposed stairs down to the lobby so we should be able to get a decent view of where Tony’s at.”

She led Steve over to a heavy door which housed the maintenance staircase and they both winced as they could hear Hulk yelling.

“SO MANY STAIRS!” His words echoed and Katie glanced down to see he was a few floors below them. Nodding to Steve, they began their descent.

***** In the Lobby, Tony was watching with amusement, the slight difference of opinion his 2012 self and 2012 Thor were having with Alexander Pierce.

 “Loki will be answering to Odin himself.” Thor shook his head when he was instructed to turn his brother over.

“He’s gonna answer to us. Odin can have what’s left.” Pierce shook his head. “And I’m gonna need that case, that’s been SHIELD property for over seventy years.”

“All right, move it, Stuart Little.” Tony said from his place in the lobby, he was dressed in a SHIELD Tactical Kit, one he had stolen of some guy he’d had to knock out. “Things are getting dicey up here. Let’s go.”

“You promise me you won’t die?” Lang shot back.

“You’re only giving me a mild cardiac dysrhythmia.” 

“That doesn’t sound mild”.

“Do it, Lang!”

“Get your hands off!” 2012 Tony began to yell yelling.

“Window’s closing. Pull my pin!” Tony insisted.

“Here goes!” Seconds later 2012 Tony dropped the case, clutching at his chest.

“Stark? Stark!”  Thor bellowed as Tony watched himself fall to the floor. 

 “Look, he’s convulsing.” Pierce shook his head. “Give him air! Medic!”

“MEDIC!” Tony called, some amusement as he watched his past self, writhing on the floor “This guy needs some help, some help please!”

In the rush and melee that followed, the case suddenly slid across the floor to Tony who grabbed it hastily with a smile.

“Good job.” He spoke into his comms. “Meet me in the alley. I’m gonna grab a quick slice.”

Only he never made it, as right at that point, Hulk mashed through the door from the staircase into the lobby, sending Tony flying to the ground, the case dropping from his hands.

“NO MORE STAIRS!!!!” Everyone began to run from Hulk’s rampage and then all hell broke loose.

Tony sat up, looking round, giving a groan as he realised that the Tesseract, and Loki were gone. 

“That wasn’t supposed to happen, was it?” Scott asked, as he stood on Tony’s chest. Tony sighed and looked around as the 2012 Thor and Tony began frantically talking into their coms.

“Oh we blew it.”

****

“Tony, what’s going on?” Steve demanded as he followed Katie round the corner towards the walkway. “Tell me you found that cube.” 

At that point he bumped straight into his wife who was stood stock still in front of him staring right at his 2012 counterpart.

 “Oh, you gotta be shitting me.” Steve groaned, his jaw ticking.

“Cap,” a familiar voice from behind 2012 Steve spoke and Katie’s mouth dropped open as her 2012 self sprinted onto the walkway, skidding to a halt behind the Steve from her time. “What the fuck?”

2012 Steve’s eyes flitted around at the other four people, before he drew himself up tall.

“This is clearly some kind of spell.”  2012 Steve spoke, and 2012 Katie nodded in agreement as he continued this time talking into his coms. “We have eyes on Loki. 14th floor.”

“I’m not Loki.” Steve put the case containing the sceptre down taking a step forward so he was level with his Katie. “And I don’t wanna hurt you.”

In a flash, 2012 Steve engaged. Steve raised his shield, the clang loud as the Vibranium discs clashed against one another. Katie ducked past the duelling captains to stand in front of her younger self.

“How did you escape?” 2012 Katie looked at her, taking up a fighting stance. 

“I’m not Loki.” Katie shook her head. “And neither is Steve. My Steve, I mean, the other…whatever.” She sighed. “It’s a really, really long story. And also a crazy one so…”

“You’ve seen what’s going on out there?” The 2012 her scoffed. “I doubt there’s anything that could surprise me anymore.”

“Fine, you asked…” Katie groaned. “Look, I’m you, from 2023.” She shrugged as she looked around. “Tony invented a time machine so we could come back and get something we need.” 2012 Katie raised her eyebrow before she laughed. “Whatever,” and with that she launched forward.

Through the corner of his eye, Steve saw his wife starting to engage with her 2012 self, and his moment of distraction cost him. His younger self kneed him in the chest, knocking him down harshly.

“I can do this all day.” 2012 Steve looked down at him, smirking and Steve inwardly groaned.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed, shaking his head as he waved him away whilst he stood up again. Had he really been that lame? “I know”

 With another flick of his arm, Steve threw his shield as the other him did the same, and with a loud clang the Virbanium discs ricocheted off one another flying over the side of the walkway. Without their shields the men began to fight, furiously. Blows were traded and kicks landed, and one of them, Steve had no idea who, managed to send the case containing the sceptre through the glass side of the walkway, causing it to shatter.

Katie heard the smashing behind her but she didn’t look round, she was too busy going toe to toe with her past self. She was just about getting the upper hand too as eleven years on she knew a lot more moves thanks to Natasha and Steve’s training. As her younger self leaned in with a pretty savage right hook Katie stopped it with both hands and then used her 2012 self’s arm as leverage to push up from the floor. Swinging both legs round in a scissor action she managed to lock her knees round 2012’s neck using the momentum and strength in her legs to bring her past self crashing over backwards to the ground, hard. Before she could get up Katie flicked a widow bite at her and winced as she watched her younger self convulsing on the floor.

She didn’t have much time to contemplate it however, as the sound of a loud yell made her look up just in time to see both Steve’s falling off the walk way, smashing through several glass landings and down a few of the exposed flights of stairs until they eventually came to a halt a few floors down.

Wincing, Steve managed to push himself up, taking a deep breath he swayed slightly and glanced over to where 2012 Steve was brandishing his compass at him, his mouth open and brow furrowed. Of course, he won’t have even gotten the compass back yet, and he wouldn’t do until the following year when he went through his stuff for the Smithsonian exhibit.

“Where did you get this?” 2012 demanded, his voice low. “And why does it have a picture of me and Miss Stark in it?”

Steve didn’t answer instead he ducked trying to retrieve the sceptre, and he might have been successful if he was up against a normal opponent, but 2012 Steve was quick and he placed his foot on the sceptre, throwing Steve off balance slightly. In a flash he was behind him, putting the older Soldier into a choke hold. Steve threw all his power backwards, taking the pair of them to the ground where they began to writhe along the floor, both trying to get the upper hand as Steve tried to manoeuvre them to the sceptre. Unfortunately for Steve, 2012 was just as clever and, as he reached out with his right hand his past self jerked him backwards, his legs round his waist, arms tight round his throat.

Steve knew he had to distract him, so in desperation he spluttered out something he knew would have made his 2012 self stop dead in his tracks. “Bucky…is…alive…” Almost immediately he felt the grip around his neck release, and he fell forward coughing.

“What?” 2012 Steve asked, but he never got his answer as Steve sucker punched him right in the face with his right hand, before he grabbed the sceptre, pointing the tip of it at his chest. 2012 Steve froze in mid-air before collapsing forwards, face down on the ground.

Steve let his head fall back in relief. Jesus that had been brutal. His face, ribs, neck, back all hurt like hell. At that point he heard loud footsteps and jerked his head up to see his Katie vaulting over the side of one of the staircases and landing a few feet away from him, his shield on her arm.

“You okay?” She asked, offering him her hand. She pulled him to his feet and gently cupped his face with her hands, her thumb stroking the bruise that was forming on his left cheek.

“Yeah, you?”

“Had to knock myself out with a widow bite” She grinned, before looking down at the Unconscious Steve and frowning. “What did you use?”

He held up the sceptre, before he reached down and grabbed his compass. Sticking it back in his pocket he took another deep breath before he noticed Katie was looking down at him, or rather his 2012 self.

“Lang’s right,” she mused, “that is America’s ass.”

Steve rolled his eyes, taking his shield from her as a smile tugged at his lips, “Let’s get out of here.”

****

The news they Tony and Scott had lost the Tesseract was devastating, and, as Katie watched her soldier who was glancing down at his feet, she could see he was trying to think. As he raised his head to look at her she could see the utter disappointment on his face and she swallowed, feeling it too.

They’d come so far, and looked to be set to fall at the final hurdle.  

“Are there any other options with the Tesseract?” Steve’s voice was pleading

“No, no, no. There’s no other options. There’s no do-overs.” Scott said loudly “We’re not going anywhere else. We have one particle left. Each. That’s it, alright? We use that– Bye, bye. You’re not going home.”

“Yeah, well if we don’t try, then no one else is going home, either.” Steve’s voice rose a little.  

“Wait,” Katie looked up an idea suddenly popping into her head, “we need more Pym Particles, right?” “Yeah, that’s what I said.” Scott began but Steve silenced him, recognising the look on his wife’s face. She was running through an idea.

“Let’s just go back and get some.” She breathed, astounded the idea hadn’t come to any of them beforehand.

“What?” Scott frowned.

“There has to be some point in time and space that we can get more.” She shrugged. “Let’s just go, steal some, and try again for the Tesseract.” “I can go one better than that.” Tony scrambled out of the trashed car he’d been sat in. “There’s a way to retake the Tesseract and acquire new particles at the same time.” He looked at Steve “Little stroll down memory lane. Military installation, Garden State.”

Katie and Steve looked at one another, instantly understanding before they looked at Tony.

“When were they both there?” Steve asked.

“They were there at a–“ Tony paused. “I’ve a vaguely exact idea.”

“How vague?”  Katie pressed.

“What are you talking about? Where are we going?” Scott frowned.  

“I know for a fact they were there–“ Tony began again but was cut off.

“Who’s they? What are we doing?” Scott’s voice was gathering pitch as he got more and more frustrated.

“And I know how I know.” Tony looked at Katie and she took a deep breath.

Dad.” she said, swallowing and Tony nodded.

“Guys, what’s up? What is it?” Scott demanded to know.  

“Well, it looks like we’re improvising.” Steve spoke, as the Stark siblings were still looking at one another.

“Right. What are we improvising?” Scott asked as Steve turned to him, handing him the sceptre.

“Scott, get this back to the compound”.

“What’s in New Jersey?” Scott tried again.

Katie and Steve began to program their watches to the date and location Tony was telling them.

“Are you sure?” Scott pressed again, before he stepped forward. “Cap. Captain. Steve, sorry, America. Rogers. Look, if you do this, and this doesn’t work, you’re not coming back.”

“Thanks for the pep talk, piss ant” Tony glared a Scott and Steve swallowed. Lang was right, if they were wrong, he’d never see his kids again. They’d never see their kids again. No, he couldn’t let Katie come, not knowing that. Their kids needed at least one of them…

“Katie.”

“Oh no!” She folded her arms. “You are not benching me.” Steve shook his head. “It’s too big a risk.” “So is going just the two of you! Your face is too well known, even more so back then and there, at the first SHIELD base?” She sighed “Don’t forget, half the people in that place are already HYDRA. If you’re recognized…” she trailed off. “Soldier, this needs three heads. Just in case.”

“Do you trust me?” Tony spoke, looking at his brother-in-law.

Steve looked at him, with a deep sigh he nodded. “I do.”

“Then it’s your call.” Tony glanced back at him, then to Katie. Steve was torn, he really was.

“Whatever it takes, Steve.” Katie reminded him. She wasn’t scared in the slightest, she had utter faith in Tony.

Steve took a deep breath and against every bit of better judgment he had in his body he gave her a short nod “Here we go.”

*****

Using some stolen clothes and ID Badges from the locker rooms, they managed to get into the building reasonably easy, aided by the fact that Katie and Steve knew exactly where the secret SHIELD HQ was, having already been there before they took down the Triskelion.

Steve was dressed in an old military uniform, Tony in just a plain suit and Katie in a skirt and blouse, with her hair pulled up into a high seventies style pony tail. They didn’t get challenged, although there was one woman that was definitely giving them a very attentive look over in the elevator. They hit the floor Tony needed, and wishing them luck in a coded message he left, and shortly after it was their turn.

Wasting no time, they exited and as they passed a chair outside a room, Katie noticed some files someone had left behind. Quickly, she scooped them up in an attempt to make herself look like any other normal office worker that was mooching around the area.

Eventually, thanks to Steve’s photographic memory being able to recall a floor map that was on the wall outside the elevator after one simple glance at it, they found Dr Pym’s laboratory and continued down the corridor until they reached an office that wasn’t occupied. Katie distracted everyone in the corridor by dropping the files she was carrying all over the place and making a general load of fuss, whilst Steve slipped inside, unnoticed. He looked down at the phone on the desk and gave a little groan. This hand set was something completely alien to him, but he scanned the various buttons and saw one labelled ‘operator’.

“Not that different, after all.” He mused softly to himself. He picked the phone up and hit the button, asking to be put through to Dr Pym and a few minutes later he was connected.

“Hello. Dr. Pym?”

“That would be the number that you called, yes” 

Sarcastic asshole…

“This is Captain…Stevens from shipping.” Steve winced slightly at his unoriginal name. “We have a package for you.”

“Bring it up”.

“Well, that’s the thing, Sir. We can’t.”

“I’m confused. I thought that was your job.”

“Well, it’s just– Sir, the box is glowing and, to be honest, some of our mail guys aren’t feeling that great.” He paused, waiting.

“They didn’t open it, did they?”

“Yeah, they did.” Steve smiled as the man took the bait. “You better get down here.”

He placed the phone down and glanced out of the door through the small pane of glass. As someone handed Katie the last file they’d helped her tidy up, she thanked them and looked at Steve. He gave her the thumbs up and she smirked, before turning her head to see a frantic looking man in a white coat shoot out of the lab a few doors down and run off towards the elevators.

“Excuse me! Out of the way!”

Once he was gone, Katie headed to the empty lab. She hastily looked around, searching as she passed various filing cabinets, ant farms and numerous desks piled high with research. She stood, hands on her hips, biting her lip as she pondered where else the particles could be. She glanced to her right and her face cracked into a grin.

“Bingo.”  She walked towards the large, class cabinet which bore the radioactive warning symbol on the front. Opening the door, she hesitated, and selected five of the tubes. One each for her, Steve and Tony, and then two spare just in case. She tucked them into the pockets of the skirt she was wearing and headed into the corridor, Steve joining her as she went.

“Got em.” She informed, not looking at him, as the two of them strode towards the elevator, quickly and quietly. 

And they were so close, so close…

“Shit.” Katie hissed as she stopped dead. Steve, who had been checking over his shoulder, looked round and saw the lady from the elevator talking to a number of military security guards.

“And you’ve never seen these two men, or this woman before? “

“No, I’ve got an eye for this. They looked fishy.”

They hastily turned and began to walk back the way they had come when Steve spotted an office to his left.

“In here.” He opened the door and gently guided Katie in before he stepped in after her. He flattened himself against a book shelf, watching through the frosted glass for the figures to pass.

Meanwhile, a photo on the desk had caught Katie’s attention and she felt herself still as she stared at it. She knew that photo…

…because she knew the person in it inside out.

“Steve,” she whispered. He glanced over to see her staring at something on the desk. It took him a few seconds but when he realized what it was he too frowned. It was a photo of him, the one from his SHIELD file. It was his pre-serum self in a white T-Shirt, his dog tags hanging out of his collar.

Katie had a copy of that very same photo in her office because she loved it, but what the fuck was it doing here?

The pair of them looked at one another, before they turned and read the name that was etched into the glass on the office door. And even backwards it was easy to see what it said.

Margaret Carter. Director

He’d steered them into Peggy’s office.

“Katie, honey, I swear, I didn’t-“ Steve began but they were both cut off by the sound of voices behind them causing them to spin back round and watch through the spaces in the blinds which covered the large window into the other side of the office.

Steve stepped forward whilst behind him Katie hung back, not quite sure how to deal with this. She’d been with Steve now for ten years, married for almost eight and she knew he loved her, she truly did but still she couldn’t help that feeling of trepidation which flooded her system. She watched her husband smile as his first love stalked around the other side of the office.

This was Nineteen Seventy, some twenty-five years after he had been lost in the ice. Katie found herself wondering if Peggy ever truly let go of Steve, or if she had merely spent however long in a marriage pining for a man she could never have.

Peggy was shouting at another agent for something, shaking her head in frustration and generally thundering around in a manner Steve could recall very well, and he couldn’t help the fond smile which spread across his face. It was a far cry from the old, frail lady he had imprinted on his mind.

“She looks so, well, good.” He muttered gently. “She’s not ill.” It might have sounded stupid but that was the only way he could explain it. It was nice to see her so happy, healthy and doing what she did best.

When Katie didn’t reply, Steve turned to see her watching him, her arms folded across her chest as if she was hugging herself.

“Yeah,” she whispered, managing a small smile, “she does.”

Steve threw one last glance over his shoulder to see Peggy leaving the room. He walked towards his wife, dropped an arm round her and kissed her forehead, curling her into him. Her body remained a little stiff as her hands slid round his waist.

“You know I love you.” He whispered softly, nuzzling into her hair. “There’s never been anyone who’s come close.”

“Yeah.” Katie nodded, simply to appease him more than anything. She wanted to get out of there now, and back to the compound as soon as she could, she was done.

“Good.” Steve sighed, as he released her and reached for the door handle. “Now let’s go find your brother.”

***** Getting the Tesseract had been easy. What hadn’t been easy was bumping into his dad. Tony had fumbled over his words, walked into chairs, basically lost any of the Stark suaveness he prided himself on having and had introduced himself as Howard.

Howard fucking Potts.

His Dad, however, didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, and Tony had managed to walk right out of the lab with the Tesseract in his suitcase because being with Howard Stark was keeping him from even being looked at. 

All in all, it was the perfect cover and he couldn’t have planned it better if he had tried.

“So, flowers and sauerkraut. You got a big date tonight?” Tony asked.

“My wife’s expecting.” Howard replied and Tony’s mouth fell open. Of course she was, with him. “And, uh, too much time in the office.”

“Congratulations.” Tony smiled at him

“Thanks. Hold this, will you?” Howard asked, passing over the flowers and sauerkraut.  

“Yeah, sure.” Tony took them off him “How far along is she?”

“I don’t know– Uh– “ His dad held his hands out indicating the size of his mother’s bump “She’s at the point where she can’t stand the sound of my chewing. I guess I’ll be eating dinner in the pantry again.

“I have a little girl” Tony stuttered “Well…I kinda have two actually.” “Kind of?” “Yeah, the eldest, well she’s actually my sister. Our parents died when she was very young and I ended up with Custody of her so.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” “I’m not.” Tony shook his head and as Howard raised an eyebrow he started to explain. “I mean I am sorry our parents died but not that I ended up looking after her, you know, wouldn’t have had it any other way. She’s an incredible person, smart, funny, beautiful. Married to a soldier now, couple of kids of her own.”

The other man smiled. “You know, a girl would be nice. Less of a chance she’d turn out exactly like me.”

“What’d be so awful about that?” Tony asked.

“Let’s just say that the greater good has rarely outweighed my own self-interests.”

Tony nodded for a moment, before the elevator stopped and the walked out of the bunker. “So, where are you at with names?”

“Well, if it’s a boy, my wife likes Almanzo” Howard looked at him. What the fuck mom? 

Tony shook his head as they crossed to the middle of the road in between the various military vehicles and troops that were running down it. “Huh, Might wanna let that stew a while. You got time.”   

“Let me ask you a question.” Howard turned to him as they reached the middle. “When your kid was born, were you nervous?

“Wildly. Yeah.” Tony smiled, and he had been. He’d been a wreck in the delivery suite, Pepper at one point ordering him out until he calmed down.

“Did you feel qualified? Like you had any idea how to successfully operate that thing?”

Tony shook his head. “Well, I’d already looked after my sister but this was different, you know. Kiddo turned out well despite me, not because of me so with the youngest, well, I literally pieced it together as I went along. I thought about what my Dad did, and– “

At that point, over his Dad’s shoulder he spotted Steve and Katie stood in the distance and Steve gave him the thumbs up.

“My old man, he never met a problem he couldn’t solve with a belt.” Howard shook his head.

Tony looked back to him from where he had been watching Steve and Katie glancing around cautiously before he spoke to the man again.

“You know, I thought my dad was tough on me. And now, looking back, I just remember the good stuff, you know. He did drop the odd pearl.” Tony smiled.  

“Yeah? Like what?”

“No amount of money ever bought a second of time.”

“Smart guy.” Howard nodded.  

“He did his best.”

“Let me tell you.” Howard smiled gently. “That kid’s not even here yet, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for ���em”

Tony felt his eyes beginning to well, he simply nodded as Howard walked past him towards his car.

In the distance, Katie squinted and jerked her head questioningly at Tony, trying to figure out why he was holding a bunch of flowers. He raised his briefcase pointing to it, the expression on his face telling her to calm down. She heard Steve let out a breath and a smile crossed her face, their plan had worked. They had the tesseract and the particles. She was about to jerk her thumb over her shoulder to instruct her brother to leave whatever it was he was doing, until she saw the face of the man he had been speaking to. 

“Oh my God,” her voice was a gasp, “that’s, that’s my dad.”

Steve had realized the same thing the minute the guy had turned around to shake Tony’s hand. Besides him, Katie took a step forward and he made to gently grab her arm.

“Katie, you can’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do Steve.” She snapped, her eyes blazing. “You just took your trip down memory lane, and you’re not gonna stop me from taking mine.”

She jerked her arm from his grasp and headed over to where her brother was handing over the flowers and a tin of sauerkraut, of all things, to her dad, before they embraced.

“Everything’s gonna be all right.” She could hear Tony as she approached. “Thank you–“

“Thank you?” Howard frowned.

“He means for everything that you’ve, err, done, for this country.” Katie finished, swallowing slightly as she reached her brothers side. Tony glanced down at her, shocked for a moment, before he hastily re-arranged his face.

“Howard, this is my sister the one I was telling you about. Virginia, meet Howard Stark.” Virginia? 

Katie smiled and shook her Dad’s hand, taking a deep breath. “God it’s good to see you, I mean meet you, you know, after hearing all about your work.” She hastily recovered.

“Your brother tells me you’re married to a soldier. He based here?” “Used to be.” She nodded, her eyes studying her Father’s face for a moment. The man paused and his head tilted to one side, giving her a curious look.

“You know, you look a lot like my wife, only with different coloured hair, she’s blonde.” “Yeah I know.” Katie replied, before she spluttered. “I mean, from photos, I’ve seen, I mean I’ve been told that before so-“

“You’re a lucky girl.” Howard smiled. “She’s a stunner. Now I really have to go. Nice to meet you both.” He shook their hands again and then turned and headed away.

As they watched him go, Tony slung his arm around his sister’s shoulder, as she leaned into him, wiping a rear from her eyes. “Hey, Kiddo, see the guy by the car?”

“Yeah?”

“Edwin Jarvis.” Tony replied simply, and she grinned. Then, with a final look at their father, the siblings turned and made their way back towards Steve.

“We good?” He asked a little tentatively, noticing that Katie was avoiding his gaze a little. He felt his heart sink, but they didn’t have time to go into that now. It was going to have to wait.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.” Tony mumbled, shooting another look round.

They made their way round the corner to a deserted part of the base before they each tapped their wrist bands to activate the suits and, with a fresh container of particles each they were ready. Keying in the correct time, date and location, they were sucked once more into the Quantum Realm and, as they sped through the void, Katie felt that familiar squeezing sensation again, which suddenly stopped as they emerged onto the platform, her suit disappearing.

“Did we get them all?” Bruce asked. Scott held up the sceptre, Tony waved his briefcase and Rocket was holding a vial containing the Aether.

“You mean to tell me this actually worked?" Rhodey shot back, tossing his own item lightly in the air before he caught it again as excited murmurs rang around the group. Katie looked around eagerly, but paused when she got to the space that Natasha had occupied beforehand.

She wasn’t there. 

Biting back the panic that was rising in her throat she looked to Clint. He was soaking from head to foot and, as she watched, he took a step forward and dropped to his knees.

“Clint, where’s Nat?” Banner asked as the rest of the group caught up with the fact they were a person short. 

Clint’s head remained bowed. He swallowed thickly and, when he finally did look up, his eyes met Katie’s first, then Steve’s. He didn’t speak, he didn’t need to, his broken expression told them everything. Steve looked down, taking a deep breath as his heart plummeted through his chest. Besides him, Katie shook her head frantically.

"No, no, no. She’s not gone. She’s just delayed right?” She swallowed, “Clint, tell me Natasha is going to be here!” 

There was a loud thud as Bruce knelt down, his large fist pounding the platform angrily. Katie looked helplessly from Clint to Steve, her soldier’s eyes were full of tears as he reached out to her.

“Sweetheart.” His voice cracked and she shook her head, moving out of his reach as she turned back to Clint.

"Clint?” This time it was a plea. A plea for him to tell her that her best friend was fine, and that there was just a temporary glitch, one which they could fix.

Clint looked up at her, his own tears now falling as he shook his head.

“She’s gone, Nova.” And with that his head dropped and his shoulders began to shake.

Katie’s jaw began to quiver and she felt two large hands on her upper arms, which gently turned her round as Steve pulled her to him, one hand firmly on her back, the other tangling in her hair. He held her, gently rocking her side to side as she began to cry, looking over her head at Tony who locked eyes with him, wiping his face with his hands.

It was then that Steve’s vision became blurred by his own tears and he buried his face in his wife’s hair, allowing her sorrow to hide his own.

*****

Chapter 55

**Original Posting**

[libermachinae]

Fault Lines Under the Living Room

Part IV: Touch - Chapter 13: Twisting and Snarling

Also available on AO3 Chapter Summary: A hunt is on and the jig is up. Word Count: 3272

---

Gigatron had known, upon entering the throne room, that it was his destiny to have found this place. Why else would the the throne, a grand centerpiece from which he could observe every move of his soldiers, be so perfectly fitted to his frame? From here, he’d known, he would lay the foundations for the campaign that would bring the universe, at last, to its knees before the Decepticons. A place like this was reserved for champions and kings, and his claim over it proved that he had the makings of both.

So the reports concerning the Autobot infiltrators concerned him little. In the hours since their arrival, Startle and Sweeper had alternated rushing inside with alerts to the effect of, “The grounder was spotted in the midst of sector Z4, driving inbound,” or, “The slagged shuttle intercepted and we lost visual.” They treated each announcement as if it were news. Gigatron was well aware Deadlock was headed in fast with an Autobot hanging off his spoiler. He knew his current regiment would struggle and ultimately fail to catch him. Everything was progressing as he had always expected it would, so he stayed in his throne and waited them out.

He knew, as he answered the latest hail to his comm, that while victory would inevitably be his, this would not be it.

“Report.”

“Sir,” Vanquish said, “Deadlock got away.”

“Explain.” Vanquish was among his best, the captain of his security forces and first choice for rare away missions. Hellbat had handpicked him, and Gigatron trusted no one’s judgment more. Clearly, a few years separated from his roots had done nothing to blunt Deadlock’s edge.

“We thought we had him cornered,” Vanquish said. “There were three blasters aimed at his head and a sniper up above. Pothole moved in and he took an unlikely evasive maneuver over the wall at his back.” He grumbled, his pride hurt. “He’s fast, sir.”

“Any sign of his companions?” Gigatron asked.

“No, sir.”

“Is he injured?”

“No, not that I could see, sir.”

“You had him cornered and didn’t shoot him.” This was why he so eagerly awaited Deadlock’s arrival; idleness had proven unkind to his own mechs. Deadlock, whether he ended up serving as idol or an example, would bring them back to the caliber Gigatron expected of those under his command. First, though, he had to get here, and Gigatron was growing tired of being patient. It seemed that afford this encounter the gravity it deserved, Deadlock had decided to turn it into a game. Fine. Gigatron could humor him, if only briefly.

“I’m taking my team,” he decided. “Return to base and await further orders. I don’t need you all broadcasting my location to him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gigatron cut the comm and made to gesture to Hellbat, only to remember he had left on his own errand. He waved instead to the next nearest mech, Sweeper, who straightened to attention.

“Get my squad ready,” Gigatron commanded. “We’re joining the hunt.”

~*~

Seated in the Decepticon shuttle, hovering at the far edge of Decepticon territory, Ratchet barely moved. There had been a cough sitting in his engine so long it felt like the fumes were corroding his pipes, but he batted down commands to clear it even as his internals stung and his filters felt heavy. He could distract himself by tapping against his knee, but the feeling was starting to overwhelm his rudimentary distraction technique. 

It didn’t help that his other main distraction was judging him, harshly. Rodimus hadn’t said so much in words, but he found it amusing that Ratchet was holding himself to such stringent demands when there were easier solutions. Each time he felt the wave of derision, Ratchet shot back with the simple point that Rodimus wasn’t speaking for a reason. Both of them were silent as Drift slipped into the base, desperate not to distract him but unwilling to cut the comm for even a moment, the crackling feedback of his malfunctioning comm suite their only sign he was still operational.

There had been so many close calls getting him in this far, and he still wasn’t all the way to the target yet. Somehow, he planned to sneak a pair of potentially unwilling Decepticons back out of their fortified base, and then once outside somehow maneuver around the patrols, which were growing more aggressive with each near miss. They’d all known going in this would be a dangerous, difficult operation, but Ratchet kept wondering if they could have done more to prepare. If they’d gone in not just watching one another’s backs, but being—

Rodimus intercepted the thought before it could go any further. Regardless of the fact they kept looping back to it, now wasn’t the time.

“I’m in,” Drift whispered, offering an ideal distraction.

“What are their defenses like?” The words tumbled out of Ratchet, followed by a hacking filter cough that he immediately muted himself for. His fans were still spinning when he jumped back into the channel.

“—very spare,” Drift was saying. “Could’ve walked in through the front door.”

“That’s not normal, right?” Rodimus asked, assuming the answer but trying to avoid saying something stupid in front of the expert.

“It’s not like there’s standard practice out here, but no,” Drift said. “A group with that sophisticated a defense system normally wouldn’t leave their headquarters unattended.”

“Is it possible it’s a decoy?” Ratchet asked.

“Sure,” Drift said nonchalantly.

“As in a trap?”

“Uh-huh.”

Ratchet didn’t bother adding anything else. Rodimus’ thoughts were bland and resigned; a mental shrug, perhaps a pat on the shoulder. Ratchet accepted it as the best he was going to get.

“Any signs of Grit?” Rodimus asked to fill the empty space.

“Not yet. Have an idea where he might be, though.”

“Thought you said they don’t keep standard practice in these places.”

“They don’t.”

Ratchet was going to push him further on it when he heard the subtle click of disconnection.

“Drift?”

No response.

“Drift?” he tried again, pointlessly.

“What—did he—”

He did. He did, Ratchet was certain, because the last tone of a comm being broken was completely different from one shut off manually. That knowledge, combined with Rodimus’ unending confidence in Drift, allowed them to stave off the cascade of panic they felt at being shut out so suddenly.

“Why would he cut us off?” Rodimus demanded.

Ratchet briefly wondered if they were coming to rely too much on their mind link, losing touch with how to understand other Cybertronians without it. The passing thought was swept along in the tide, though, inconsequential compared to their much more pressing concerns.

“He found something.” And now he was facing it all alone.

“Not alone,” Rodimus reminded him. “He’s got us.”

He wasn’t wrong. Ratchet reached out and held onto Rodimus’ certainty, feeling Rodimus do the same as he started to input the commands for takeoff.

~*~

Gigatron slammed one taloned foot to the ground and roared, echoing through the barren canyons. Another dead end and no sign of Deadlock. The little shuttle had made one appearance but fled the moment Gigatron gave chase, leaving him once more to wait for reports full of almosts and nearlys.

The tracks Drop Down had found led to a cliff with no apparent follow through. Same with the trail Sweeper had slithered over. Now, Rageor was chiming in, claiming he had found something. Gigatron flapped his wings twice and took to the air, homing in on the provided coordinates. Rageor stood before a tall cliff face, two members of his squad on either side of him, facing something hidden between the three of them. Gigatron let himself drop, brittle dust stone buckling beneath his feet as he landed and sending a cloud up into the air. He coiled his necks up to their full height before he stepped forward, flames licking his teeth.

“Show me,” he demanded.

Rageor nodded and stepped aside, revealing a mech cowering against the wall. Blocky and tan with green accents, his utterly plain appearance would have made it possible to mistake him for a neutral, were it not for the purple insignia splashed on the back of his shoulder. Gigatron turned to the captain of his vanguard, who raised his hands and took a step back.

“That’s not Deadlock,” Gigatron growled.

“He claims to have information,” Rageor said, turning his face away when the flames came close. Gigatron turned one of his heads to the unknown Decepticon, who cowered from the direct attention and squirmed as though trying to press himself into the rock itself.

“Well?” The thrill of the hunt was waning, glory still at bay, and Gigatron’s patience was wearing thin.

“Dr—Deadlock, he brought me here,” the Decepticon said, “on his shuttle. Rickety little thing, meant we were in auditory range the whole time.” He gulped as Gigatron pawed at the ground, talons driving furrows into the soft stone. “He and his Autobots, they were trying to be vague, but they had something on their ship. Some kinda weapon.”

“And?” Gigatron asked, unimpressed. He hardly needed to ruffle his platelets to reveal his own flying arsenal. If this Decepticon intended to use this weapon as a bargaining chip for his life, Gigatron wasn’t sure which side he was undervaluing more.

“And they specifically didn’t want you getting at it”

Hm. Hadn’t he heard a refrain like that before?

The Decepticon froze as Gigatron straightened, each of his hands rising high to scan the distant horizon. Deadlock might have been the key to this planet’s greatest asset, but Gigatron hadn’t gotten where he was by limiting his prospects.

“All patrols, update priorities,” he announced. “It seems there is a second prize in our midst.”

~*~

“That is what we are, that is why we’re here. Machines of war, of—”

Hellbat broke off mid-rant, which was fine, because with two guns aimed at his head and the tip of a sword digging into his back, Drift was only half paying attention. The rest of his limited focus was on Grit, kneeled at Hellbat’s side with his hands bound behind his back and plating locked tight as a blast container. The stone army he had tucked to the side for now, concerning but not an immediate threat while they remained in their dormant state.

“What? Gigatron, sir,” Hellbat snapped, glaring at the ceiling as though he could see his commander through the stone. “You can’t—we need the Autobots alive.”

Drift did his best not to react, though the blade digging harder between his shoulder panels suggested he didn’t do well enough.

“What’s—I don’t know—what do you care about some cheap Autobot weapon? We have the army, remember? That’s—”

Drift’s control slipped. He flinched from the edge of the sword cutting into his subplating, but it didn’t stop him from switching his comms back on. Security be damned, they were already compromised.

“Gigatron knows about the Enigma,” he rushed to say. “Get off the planet, go, they—”

“Hey, enough.”

He thought he heard the blip of a response before the gun pointed at his temple twisted around and came down hard against his helm. His vision went to static as he went down, not from the blow itself but the audible POP as his busted comms suite finally gave out. A hand grabbed his drooping shoulder and hauled him upright again, while another forced his helm up to meet Hellbat’s optics.

“If you tell me where the Autobots are, I’ll promise to put them into stasis before I begin the harvesting process,” he said. “It’s a much better end than they’ll find in Gigatron’s maw, I assure you.”

Helm swimming with pain and spark frantic with worry—please, let them somehow find a degree more sense than they had displayed throughout the extent of this ordeal—Drift somehow managed to find Hellbat’s optics and lock onto them.

“You know, you almost remind me of them,” he said. “You’re all terrible at compromise.” His voice sounded hollow, and when the next strike came he sagged down to his knees, waiting for the pain to fade and the static to clear. He tried pinging his comm suite but got nothing, not even the echo of a signal failing to reach its destination. He was fully cut off.

“Go,” he heard Hellbat bark. “Gather your team. You know what to do.”

“But sir—”

“Once I’ve gathered everything I need from him, you can do whatever you please with what remains,” Hellbat promised Vanquish. “Now go.”

The blade drew away from his back, followed by retreating footsteps. He peered up at his remaining guards, guns still aimed, and Hellbat, who had drawn out a pair of stasis cuffs. Drift glanced at Grit. The returned look was weary, but not yet beaten. The silent dialogue that passed between them might not have been precise as a comm, but it was much faster: Drift only had to leap back as Grit threw himself at Hellbat.

Both guns went off, their near misses giving Drift an opening to draw his swords and rush them. Movements simple, cuts clean: one guard down faster than the time it had taken him to get up. The other fired again, forcing Drift to dodge to the side and back. The remaining guard circled Drift, finger wrapped around the trigger and clearly waiting for him to make the first move. Drift let him, maneuvering himself until his back was to the hallway, the guard standing between him and the stone army.

Down on the floor, Grit didn’t have a way to pin Hellbat, but he was keeping him occupied, both of them twisting and snarling around each other as they fought for the advantage. Hellbat managed to curl one leg between them and shove Grit off. He rolled into Drift’s path, who hauled him up without taking his optics off the guard. Hellbat rose to his pedes with an almost insulting level of patience, dusting off his armor and brushing his hand over the minor dents Grit had left in his plating. Drift shoved Grit behind himself, swords immediately coming back up when he saw the guard twitch.

“Go,” he said without looking back. “I suspect your teammate needs help right now.”

“Which one?” Grit growled. “They’re both—uck, never mind. You want these two for yourself? Have at ‘em.” He took off, awkward gait echoing through the empty stone halls. Drift didn’t know how he would get out of the base with his arms bound, but with so much else riding on him he couldn’t worry about it.

Hellbat’s guard twitched, tempted by the easy target into opening a window. Drift spun his blade forward, going for the gun, but Hellbat shoved him to the side. The scuffle was enough to break the gun’s aim, but now it was pointed at Drift as he rolled to the side and threw off Hellbat. He swept out a leg, knocking over the guard, and used his momentum as he stood to kick the gun to the other side of the platform.

He made to chase after it, but a flash of movement to his other side caught his attention: Hellbat had taken off. Drift gave a second kick to make sure the guard stayed down, then rushed to the edge of the platform, Hellbat touching down at the control panels in the middle of the room.

“Enough of this.”

“Hellbat, don’t!” Drift launched himself over the barrier, knowing he was already too late.

“Maybe a few of you will be left well enough intact for me to finish me work, maybe not,” Hellbat said. “It doesn’t matter; destiny will have its way.” He pressed something on the panel and the whole room began to hum.

~*~

Comms were still online and broadcasting, but they hadn’t used them since Ratchet finally gave up trying to hail Drift. Since then, communication had taken place entirely within their heads, ideas and plans and anxieties cascading and mingling until once more it became a challenge to remember where one started and the other began. Unlike before, though, the overlap in their minds did not overwhelm. Instead, their shared fears were pushed down under the joint weight of their assurance and commitment, elevating a single priority above all the noise of their eddying thoughts: find Drift.

Rodimus was hovering in a canyon near the base as Ratchet moved in. To speed his approach, Ratchet was keeping the base between himself and the orbital cannon, a risky move when they didn’t know how desperate the Cons were. This was the best their combined processors could come up with, though, and addressing all of their doubts would have wasted time better spent searching for Drift.

Rodimus watched their surroundings, looking for any sign of the Con hunting parties that had hounded him and Drift on their way in. The world below was as still as the stone that made it, though, no glints of passing armor or bored blaster rounds to pinpoint the enemy. He knew they had to be out there (unless they were already back in the base, a possibility they weren’t ready to think about yet), but the deep valleys and harsh shadows were working in their favor. There was a real possibility he was being sought just as intently by mechs who would see him long before he found them, but he didn’t dare to leave his post in case Drift came running out of the base, in need of urgent pickup.

It was thanks to his vantage point he was able to witness two arrivals at nearly the same time. The first was the Decepticon shuttle sailing into view, dodging between the tallest rock formations with a dexterity that shouldn’t have been possible for the unwieldy shuttle. The second, and the more startling, was a beastformer of immense size twisting out of the shadows, many eyes locked on the approaching ship while its body rippled and coiled, preparing to spring.

Rodimus shouted something, more sound than word and utterly inconsequential. Ratchet swallowed his panic and the shuttle swerved into a tighter turn than it was designed for, swinging out of the way of the incoming pounce but directly into a stone peak. Even at a distance, Rodimus swore he could hear the terrible sound of rending metal, rattling Ratchet’s thoughts and shaking his control. Rodimus dropped the speeder into a dive, aiming for the shuttle, but Drift’s ship was already spitting out its own complaints, shaking like it was on the verge of falling apart. He could see Ratchet’s ideas forming in real time, and no, stop, that was a stupid idea, don’t—

Got each other.

The Decepticon shuttle’s thrusters heaved up to full burn. There wasn’t the space to gain much speed, but the momentum was enough, slamming into the beastformer who belched flames and raked claws across the cockpit. He was aiming to tear his way inside, but before he could he was smashed into, then through a stone wall, the entire nose of the shuttle lost into a band of an explosion and an outpouring of thick, black smoke.

“Ratchet!” Rodimus yelled, unable to tell whether all the panicked, fearful thoughts were shared between them or just his own processor knocked into hyperspeed.

The shuttle’s engines ground it forward until something gave and they flared out with a series of pops and bursts. The entire craft was forced upward once more before the thrusters finally burned out and it slumped, the angle of the hole it had made forcing it to turn like a final wave goodbye.

[shadowhuntertrash]

Hello, I read your other fanfics and absolutely adored them! I was wondering if you could write a Thomastair angst based on the song Consequences by Camila Cabello, I'd prefer if it was in Alastair's pov but it's fine if it's in Thomas'. PS, I loved High Notes, can't wait for the next chapter <33

Sorry this took so long and I kinda mixed the POV hope you don't mind <33

And thank you SO MUCH!!!

Dirty tissues, trust issues

Glasses on the sink, they didn't fix you

Lonely pillows in a strangers bed

Little voices in my head

   Thomas stared at the glass in front of him, he had stolen whiskey and rum from Matthew in hopes of drowning out the memories. He didn’t want to remember, he wanted everything to go away. He wanted to forget what the pain felt like, what Alastair felt like.

   He couldn’t stand being in his bed anymore, not after all the nights spent there with Alastair, not with all the memories. He couldn’t escape from the memories, they were everywhere, he felt so utterly trapped.

  Thomas threw the rest of the drink back and reveled in the burning sensation it sent down his throat. He wanted to drown out all the voices, all the promised whispers in the dead of night. He wanted to drown out the music Alastair played for him, he wanted to drown.

   Tears were streaming down his face but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore. With a shuddering breath, Thomas threw the glass at the wall with all his strength. His back slid down the opposite wall as he let out the sobs he had been holding in, the glass shards everywhere.

   He knew that feeling, shattering, his heart was all too familiar with it.

Secret keeping, stop the bleeding

Lost a little weight because I wasn't eating

All the songs that I can't listen to, to tell the truth

   Alastair had always hated secrets, he wondered if that’s why he hated himself. His whole life, his whole existence felt like one big secret.

   He couldn’t tell anyone about his father, he couldn’t tell anyone about Charles, he could’ve told people about Thomas but after so many lies and secrets what was one more? He should have seen it, it shouldn’t have surprised him. He shouldn’t have a bleeding heart right now, he should be with Thomas, laughing in bed. He should be eating lunch right now at a surprise picnic with Thomas instead of ignoring the meals outside his door.

   Alastair couldn’t find it in him to get out of bed, he couldn’t find it in him to abandon the place he and Thomas had spent so much time. It felt as if he were giving up on Thomas, on the memories, the whispers, if he were to get out of bed and move on.

   He used to play music when he was upset, his piano was right outside his room but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t play the piano, not after all the songs he made for Thomas that Thomas would never get to hear.

   He won’t play anymore, no one could make him. He only ever wanted to play for Thomas but if he can’t play for him he won’t play for anyone.

Loving you was young, and wild, and free

Loving you was cool, and hot, and sweet

   Thomas closed his eyes tightly, his fisted hands pressing hard into his eyes until he saw stars instead of eyelids. He didn’t want these memories, not anymore, but he couldn’t stop them from flooding in.

   He saw flashes of Paris, Alastair walking excitedly in front of him, the wind blowing his hair around. He saw Alastair’s smile as they snuck into the movie theatre, his free smile as he told Thomas animatedly about how amazing mundanes were to have come up with such a contraption.

   Thomas felt tears cascading down his cheeks as he pictured the lake they had swam in, on a hot day. The cold water felt good on their skin but it felt better when Alastair’s skin was on his. He felt as if he was finally cooling down for once that summer while also getting hotter than he’d ever been as Alastair kissed him passionately, his legs wrapped around Thomas’s middle as he kept them afloat.

   The shy, hesitant kisses they shared in the cover of night. The sweet looks they shared that no one but them understood. Thomas punched the wall trying to draw his physical pain above his emotional pain. He didn’t want to think of their secrets, their inside jokes. 

   He didn’t want to think about Alastair’s carefree smile that only Thomas got to see. He didn’t want to think about the nights where they broke down. He didn’t want to think about the fights they shared when they were under too much pressure. He didn’t want to think about the tears that ran down Alastair’s face the last time he saw him. Thomas didn’t want to think about the way Alastair’s face crumbled when Thomas slammed the door behind him.

   Thomas didn’t want to think.

Loving you was sunshine, safe and sound

A steady place to let down my defenses

But loving you had consequences

   Alastair wanted it back. He wanted Thomas back, the memories, the smiles. He wanted his bright spot back, he was drowning in darkness and Thomas was the only one who was ever able to get him out of it. 

   He wanted to be okay again, he wanted his sanctuary. He wanted that warm safe feeling he always got with Thomas. He wanted Thomas to be there for him like he was when Alastair came out to his father, like he was when Charles wouldn’t leave him alone.

   Alastair was tired of having to hide his emotions, he was tired of hiding himself. He wanted to go back to being able to be himself without fear of judgment when he was with Thomas. He wanted Paris back, being allowed to love mundane things because Thomas understood and liked them too. He missed being able to be himself.

   But loving Thomas came with its faults. The shouting when they should’ve been asleep. Thomas stumbling in late drunk because he was with Matthew. Alastair’s insecurities taking over and making him defensive and mean.

   They had their faults and things that were wrong but Alastair couldn’t help but believe that they were worth the fights, they deserved to be happy and they were happy with each other.

   He just wished Thomas felt that too.

Hesitation, awkward conversation

Running on low expectation

   Thomas hated parties, he hated weddings and meetings. He hated seeing everyone and pretending he was fine when he was falling apart. He hated seeing Alastair who looked just as broken as Thomas did.

   He hated how little he expected from people now, how he felt bad every time he said something jokingly. He hated that he watched what he said around everyone in fear of them being upset by it after having spent so long with Alastair who took everything to heart. 

   Thomas used to think it was endearing, he thought he would be able to show Alastair that Thomas only ever wanted him. He had wanted so many things for Alastair but time wore them down and it became more problematic than endearing.

   He got tired of constantly having to reassure Alastair, he was tired of Alastair being mean when he got defensive.

   He was tired.

Every siren that I was ignoring

I'm payin' for it

   

   Alastair beat himself up for missing the signs. He should’ve seen the red flags. He should have seen the silence for the screams they were. He should have noticed when Thomas spent less time with him. 

   He should have noticed when Thomas started spiraling. He should have noticed Thomas’s tear-stained cheeks and swollen eyes instead of the drink in his hand. He should have noticed when Thomas got in his own head.

   Thomas deserved someone who would notice those things and Alastair couldn’t help agreeing that he wasn’t good enough for that. He couldn’t help agreeing that Thomas deserved so much more than him.

Loving you was dumb, dark and cheap

Loving you will still take shots at me

   Thomas cursed himself for falling for Alastair’s sweet words and his secretive personality. He cursed himself for falling into the mysterious boy no one truly knew anything about. Thomas cursed himself for being so dumb and falling for all of Alastair’s tricks, all the lies about love.

   He didn’t want to love Alastair anymore, not after what he said, but the worst part is that he still loved him. He loved Alastair and it would haunt him forever, he wasted so long on a boy who never even loved him. 

   How could Alastair love him if he believed all the rumors. How could Alastair love Thomas and still betray the trust they build. How could Alastair love Thomas and still ruin his parent’s and best friend’s lives?

   He couldn’t. 

Found loving you was sunshine, but then it poured

And I lost so much more than my senses

'Cause loving you had consequences

   Alastair walked around as if nothing ever happened, he smiled at acquaintances, played with his little brother, helped Cordelia.

   He found new sunshine since Thomas had ripped his away. It had been raining so long that he didn’t remember what it was like not to be drowning. He had lost so much when he lost Thomas, he lost parts of himself he didn’t even know about.

   He missed Thomas and didn’t think he’d ever get over it but he learned how to fake it. He learned how to be ‘happy’ around Thomas. He learned how to keep himself together until he was by himself at night. 

   Thomas was happy now and that was all that had ever really mattered. He would have fought for Thomas if he deserved him but Alastair didn’t because he wasn’t.

   He sat and wished more than anything that Thomas would change his mind, that Thomas would realize he still loved Alastair. He waited for it and when it didn’t happen, Alastair realized that he would never stop waiting.

   Alastair would spend forever waiting for Thomas because Thomas was worth that.

[hyuniepot]

the butterfly effect. || chapter 6

chapter word count || 5,372

genre || thriller, angst, drama

members || mark lee, na jaemin, lee jeno, huang renjun, lee donghyuck, zhong chenle, park jisung

warnings || mentions of death, implications of depression

pairing || fem!reader x jaemin || slight fem!reader x mark

synopsis || you never thought you’d be able to play with fate so easily, especially not through some shady app. but you suddenly must say goodbye to what you know and hello to a new world where everything seems perfect.

taglist || @gothboyjisung​ @jeongyoonohs @doiewonu @huanginjoon​ @wordsgodeep @colpen

previous chapter

You woke up way later than usual. You were still in the clothes you wore yesterday. You immediately got up and showered, changing into a new pair of clothes.

You woke up way later than usual. You were still in the clothes you wore yesterday. You immediately got up and showered, changing into a new pair of clothes.

You woke up way later than usual. You were still in the clothes you wore yesterday. You immediately got up and showered, changing into a new pair of clothes.

When you were done, you checked your phone.

Mark

hey, when do u wanna hang out?

you can come over here if u want.

or whatever. its fine

oh, you probably aren’t awake yet….

lol. let me know when ur awake.

You smile.

You

hey im awake now

i can come over to ur place, is any time fine?

i just gotta get ready and stuff

You set your phone down and look at yourself in the mirror, continuing to dry your hair. You know you still had to make your final decision on whether you were going to leave or not. Your mind couldn’t make a decision. There were pros and cons to doing both.

If you were to go back, you’d return to a life with no Mark and a Jisung who isn’t happy. But you’d have Hyuck. You’d have Jaemin, and Jeno and Renjun. You’d have your old friends back. You could use what you learned here to fix your life.

But Mark. He was the only thing stopping you. You wanted to take him along with you but you knew it was impossible. You just couldn’t imagine leaving him again when you had spent so long yearning for him to be back.

You jump at the sound of your phone dinging.

Mark

yea, come on over. i’ll be here all day hahah

You

got it. i’ll be there soon

You then clicked on Hyuck’s name to text him.

You

i know this is annoying but please give me the time i need. i’ll let you know tonight what my decision is.

You turned your phone off, grabbing your camera and putting it in your new bag. Jisung was in his room so you gently knock and wait for a response.

Jisung opens the door. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you respond. “I’m gonna go to Mark’s today, are you gonna be okay here alone?”

Your mother’s workload had definitely decreased, but she still worked long hours. You only got to see her in the mornings before school.

Jisung nods. “Yep, that’s fine.”

“Okay.” you exhale. “I’ll see you later, then.”

He nods, and you turn away and head downstairs. You make your way outside and start your journey to Mark’s house. Luckily, you had gone there once since you showed up, so you knew your way.

Everything was still so familiar. Of course it was; this was the town you grew up in after all. And that’s why it was so hard to differentiate from your old life sometimes. Everything still felt right at times.

You were glad Mark didn’t live too far away. You spotted him outside, sitting on one of the concrete stairs that lead to the porch. His face lights up when he spots you, getting up and making his way to you.

“What’s up?” he smiles.

“Nothing,” you reply. “What’s the plan for today?” you both continue making your way to his house.

“I don’t have anything planned, really…” he says, scratching his head. “We just chill for a bit and then figure out something if you want.”

You nod, going up the stairs to his porch. He opens the door, letting you in. You follow him up to his room, suddenly feeling nervous. You hadn’t been alone with Mark like this. You barely even knew how to be around him without feeling awestruck.

He opens the door to his room and it hits you. It was so perfectly… him. It was just what you expected, what you always imagined it would look like. An acoustic guitar stood in the corner of his room, bed haphazardly made. A record player was set up on the left side, the records he owned displayed on a nearby shelf. Posters of all different subjects were taped on the wall, some personal photos mixed in. You spotted one of you and Mark as children, one of the photos you always looked at when you missed him.

It hurt to look at everything. But you had to force your emotions aside.

“Yeah, had to switch up the old room,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets. “I think this looks way cooler.”

You nod. “It looks great.” your voice is barely audible. You couldn’t take your eyes off the photos on the wall.

“Oh,” Mark notices you staring at the wall. He walks to where his bed is, squatting down and pulling a book out from under it. “I found a whole photo album of old photos.” he says. He motions you to come sit down next to him, and you oblige.

He opens it. The first few pages were photos of him as a baby, but it quickly changed to photos of him as a kid. It didn’t take long for you to appear. You had seen them all before, but it was still nice to look at them. There were even pictures from your trip to the butterfly enclosure, an unsure look plastered across your face. Mark was beaming.

“Do you remember this?” Mark puts his finger on an old photo of you and him at a fair — huge grins on both of your faces. He laughs. “We rode a ride and I swore I was gonna get sick after it. You were so freaked out by it that you avoided me until I convinced you I felt better.”

You laugh. You did remember it. You remembered running away from him and staying at least 10 feet away until you finally gave in.

He turns a few pages. It was time to look at photos that you had never seen, stories that you had never heard, the things that could have been. You just tried to keep your breathing steady.

There’s a picture of you and him together in somewhat formal clothing — probably your first highschool dance. Hyuck and another boy you didn’t recognize stood behind you, giving both you and Mark bunny ears.

“You remember Johnny, right?”

That must have been the other boy. You just nodded. Of course, you had no idea who he was.

“He moved here when we were like 12, right?” he looks at the photo. “I miss him. I don’t get to talk to him a lot because he travels so he’s always in a different timezone but… when I do, it’s like he never left.” he adds.

You wrack your brain — did you ever know anyone named Johnny? You were sure you didn’t. He didn’t exist in your old life. But he had somehow been a part of your life in this universe at some point. He was visibly older — not by too much, but he was definitely more mature. It didn’t help that Mark had a baby face. He had brown, medium length hair that was kind of shaggy. He seemed charming. But since there was no sign of him in your phone, you assumed you didn’t keep in touch with him.

Mark flips the pages a few more times. There’s a picture of you, Mark, and Hyuck on what seemed to be your last halloween together. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when, but you were probably 14 or 15. You were dressed up as Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Hyuck was dressed as the beast and Mark was dressed as Lumière, the candlestick.

You look at the girl in those photos. You wished you had her brain; You wished you remembered everything the way she did. Looking at yourself in the photos didn’t feel right. No matter what you did, you couldn’t convince yourself that it was you. Because technically, it wasn’t. Where was that girl now? Was she living your old life? Spending her days with Jaemin, desperately wishing for Mark?

“Are you okay?” you snap back to reality at the sound of Mark’s voice. He had closed the book and was looking at you with a concerned look on his face.

You let out an awkward chuckle. “Oh… yeah. I’m fine… I just kinda zoned out.”

“Yeah… you’ve been doing that a lot lately…” Mark stands up and slides the book back under his bed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You don’t want to reply. Your eyes start burning with tears.

“Yeah,” you reply softly.

“That’s why I wanted to hang out with you today. You’ve seemed so… off lately… No offense,” Mark sits back down and looks at you. “I don’t mean that in a mean way, I just mean… it seems like something is bothering you and… are you crying?”

Tears finally escape your eyes, cascading down your cheeks. You stay silent as Mark wraps his arms around you, tightly hugging you.

“Oh god, oh no… I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.” Mark says.

You can’t help but smile as you cry into his chest. “No… it’s not your fault…”

He pulls away from the hug. “Is something actually wrong? You know you can talk to me… I heard bottling up your emotions isn’t healthy…”

You take your time collecting yourself to try and think of an excuse. Obviously you couldn’t tell him the real reason why you seemed so out of it -- oh yeah, Mark, I’m from a universe where you died and I ended up here because I used some app to wish for you back and I have literally no idea what’s going on half the time.

“I’m just stressed,” you tell him. “I’ve never been this stressed so I don’t really know how to deal with it.”

“Ah…” Mark nods. “I get it… I mean, we’re in our last year of school. Everyone’s gonna expect us to act like adults soon. It’s… scary.”

You nod, wiping your tears. I wish that was what I was stressed about.

And that’s when it clicks. You realize you don’t belong here. You were destined to live in a world without Mark. But that thought only makes you start crying again.

Mark hugs you again. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Just let it out, okay?”

So you do. You let everything out. Your shoulders shake as you sob. To anyone, it would seem like you’re overreacting. Sobbing in your best friend’s arms because you’re stressed. But this was the one thing you felt like could make you feel better.

For years, you laid in your bed alone, sobbing because you missed Mark. Because you felt guilty. And if you weren’t crying over him, you wished he was there to comfort you. And now it finally happened, and you were gonna relish the moment. This was all you ever wanted.

You feel guilty — Mark just wanted to hang out and here you were, making him comfort you as you cried for God knows what.

You force yourself to stop crying. Mark lets you go and levels himself with you, wiping your face with his thumb. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “We’re best friends… you can tell me anything, y’know?”

You nod. “I know… I just… didn’t want to bother anyone.”

Mark furrows his brows. “Hey come on, don’t say that. You wouldn’t be bothering anyone. Don’t think like that.”

You hiccup. You could feel that your face was puffy from crying.

“Okay,” Mark stands up. “I think this calls for some relaxation, right? I’m gonna get a bunch of blankets and we’re just gonna lounge.” He grabs a spare blanket and wraps it around your shoulders, helping you stand up. He leads you to his basement. There was a large couch and a TV. You sit down.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Mark turns the TV on. “Okay. I’ll find something for us to watch. Get comfortable, okay?”

You scoot around for a bit before finding a comfortable spot. The crying you did made your eyelids heavy.

Mark joins you on the couch, clicking through the TV guide, searching for something to watch. He clicks on a movie before opening his arms. “Come here.”

Maybe it wasn’t right, but you let him hold you. You listen to his heartbeat, trying to keep yourself awake until you couldn’t fight it anymore.

[4:27 p.m.]

Your eyes flutter open. You glance around, taking in your surroundings and remembering you were in Mark’s basement. You realize you were still in his arms. You quickly sit up, making Mark jolt awake.

“Oh shit,” he says, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Did we both fall asleep?” he chuckles.

You smile. “Yeah… looks like it.” You stretch your muscles. “Did you get to watch any of movie?”

“Nope.” Mark replies. “I think I fell asleep right after I realized you had,” he says softly.

You groan. “What time is it? We didn’t sleep through the day, did we?” you ask, suddenly nervous.

Mark pulls out his phone to check the time. He shakes his head. “Nope. Only about two and a half hours.”

You sigh in relief. It was still a long time, but at least it was still daytime. “Oh, good.”

“Do you wanna go get some food? We should probably get up so we don’t fall asleep again,” he laughs.

You smile. “Good idea.”

You both make your way upstairs and you retrieve your bag from Mark’s room before leaving the house. The weather, like yesterday, was nice. A light breeze blew, but it wasn’t cold thanks to the sun. You could hear children playing in a yard nearby. You and Mark made your way to a restaurant nearby. It was one that you didn’t recognize. It was a bit retro-themed and was decorated like a classic diner.

You and Mark sit down at a booth, looking at the menu. “We haven’t been to this place in forever… they got a bunch of new menu items.” Mark mumbles.

You look at the menu. It had all kinds of different types of burgers, but most importantly, milkshakes.

Mark gasped. “They got rid of the cookies ‘n cream milkshake? Are you kidding me?” he whines.

You laugh. “Really? That has to be a popular flavor.”

“Right? It’s so good too, I order it everytime. So why would they — oh, nevermind… they just rebranded it…” Mark says softly, hiding his face with the menu.

Your eyes find their way to the milkshakes; they had simply changed the name of the milkshake from Cookies ‘N Cream to Oreo. You giggle. “Dork.”

“Hey, come on! I was panicked, alright?” Mark laughs.

A waitress swings by and takes your orders — you just order a classic burger and fries with a milkshake with your favorite ice cream flavor.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You pull it out to see who’s calling. It’s Hyuck. “Um,” you swallow hard. “I’m gonna go wash my hands real quick.” you tell Mark.

He nods. “Alright.”

You get up from the booth and quickly walk to the bathroom. You close the door behind you, praying that it was empty. “Hello?”

“God, took you long enough.” Hyuck mutters.

“Why’d you call?” you sigh.

“Because I think we need to actually talk about this… I mean, if you decide to leave, I need to be able to tell you when to send the message.” he replies.

You roll your eyes. “I told you I would let you know later. I’m with Mark right now.”

“Are you serious?”

You pause. It’s deathly quiet. You can feel Hyuck’s anger through the phone. “He wanted to hang out, he asked me last night when he dropped me off… did you really think I’d say no?”

“You should’ve,” he sighs. “You know you’re only making it harder on yourself.”

You knew he was right. “I just… wanted to make some final memories before possibly leaving,” you tell him.

“I… understand.” Hyuck adds quietly. You hear him sigh. “You know this is hard on me too, right? I’m sorry I keep being so pushy but… I just wanna get out of here.”

It’s silent again. For the first time, you realize you never even thought about how Hyuck felt. You knew he missed Mark just as much as you did.

“That’s why I’ve been kinda distancing myself from him. Because the first day we were here, it was hell. All I could think about was that day… it’s all I can think about.” he says. You can barely hear him.

“Hyuck…” you whisper.

“Being here… with him… it’s too much for me to handle. You don’t think I feel the same way? I know this is a universe where we could both be happy with Mark, but something keeps telling me I can’t stay here. Too much has changed. I can’t be comfortable here.” Hyuck’s voice starts trembling. “Which is why I refused to spend any time with Mark. Because he’s the only reason I want to stay. But I miss my old life. I miss my friends. I don’t know what the hell went wrong here, but my life is just so much shittier here. Everything that could’ve gone wrong feels like it went wrong.” he rants.

You feel so much guilt for not taking the time to think about why he’d want to leave. You spent so much time thinking about yourself and Mark because you knew you’d always have Hyuck.

“Not even Mark makes staying worth it.” he spits. You can’t tell if he’s angry or sad; it’s probably both. “We were so stupid for coming here,” he finally chuckles, although you can tell it isn’t from happiness. “We were so fucking stupid.”

“I know,” you reply softly.

“I’m sorry. Call me later, okay?”

He hangs up before you can say anything. You slowly put your phone down and shove it back into your pocket. You want to cry, but you’ve already spent too much time in here. You rush out of the bathroom, and instantly run into someone.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking up at the person. Your heart almost stops.

“No worries,” Jaemin says, flashing you a polite smile.

Your heart starts pounding. You try to tell yourself to stop staring at him, but this was the first time you’ve seen him since coming here. He doesn’t look too different — hair is darker now but everything is the same. The same eyes you fell in love with. The smile that gave you butterflies in your stomach. He’s dressed in normal clothes, so that meant he was probably eating here alongside you and Mark.

You want to lunge towards him, hugging him so tightly he could never leave you again. But you finally just nodded and forced your legs to walk past him; they had started trembling and you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand there. You were glad Mark’s back was to you. You sat back down at your seat, your hands now trembling

“Everything okay?” Mark asks.

You nod. You clear your throat. “Yeah… uh, sorry I took so long. My mom called while I was in there.”

“Oh, okay.” Mark takes a sip of his milkshake that had been set on the table while you were gone. “You’re not in trouble or anything, right?” he asks, eyes widening.

You smile. “No.”

“Okay, good! I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for hanging out with me or something…” Mark says.

You stir your milkshake with your straw. You weren’t feeling very hungry anymore, but after the first sip, it was too delicious to stop.

“(y/n)!” you hear a voice calling your name. You turn your head towards the direction it’s coming from.

Naeun walks to your table. “I didn’t even see you here! What’s up?” she smiles.

“Oh… nothing.” you reply, forcing a smile in return. “Me and Mark are just hanging out and we were hungry, so here we are.” you tell her.

“Of course. Partners in crime. Hi, Mark.” Naeun responds. “Jaemin brought me here. Can you believe I’ve never been here before? This place has been up for years and I’ve never had the chance.” she pouts.

“Really?” Mark speaks up. “You gotta try their milkshakes, they’re delicious.” he tells her.

Naeun chuckles. “Will do. What flavor did you get? It looks good.” she asks.

“Oh! Cookies ‘n cream. It’s my favorite.” he replies, smiling.

“That’s a good flavor.” You hear Jaemin before you see him. Why is he talking about ice cream? He can’t even eat dairy. You think.

“How would you know?” Naeun teases, as if she was a mind reader. “You can’t have ice cream.”

Jaemin enters your line of sight, wrapping an arm around Naeun’s shoulders. It feels like a gunshot to your chest. “Well, I’m not supposed to have it. But these milkshakes make all the pain worth it.” he jokes.

Mark laughs. “He’s right though. How’s it going, Jaemin? I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Jaemin grins. “I’m doing good. School has been way harder lately, but…”

“Yeah, I would assume so. I can’t believe you got into that school, no offense…”

Jaemin chuckles. “None taken. I was surprised I got in, too. I just wish they had accepted me earlier so I wouldn’t have had to leave halfway through a school year. But, I come back here and visit almost every weekend, so…”

Watching Mark and Jaemin talk felt weird. You didn’t even know they knew each other. That also answered your question as to why you never saw Jaemin at school. You wonder what school he had been accepted to.

“Oh, how rude of me. Hey, (y/n). How are you?” Jaemin turns his attention to you. “I was gonna talk to you earlier but you ran away from me.” he laughs. “I didn’t even realize it was you until you were gone.”

“Sorry…” you say softly. “Um… I didn’t realize it was you either.”

You can feel Jaemin’s eyes piercing into you. You didn’t want to look at him. You couldn’t.

“Well, I’d love to hang out with you guys, but after we eat I have to drive Jaemin back home… maybe we could all hang out another time? Double dates, maybe?” she says, grinning.

“Date?” Mark asks, furrowing his brows. “I mean… yeah, we can hangout but…” he laughs awkwardly.

“I’m teasing,” she says, glancing at you. “Both of you get so defensive!” she jokes. “Not trying to pressure you guys, but you’d be really cute together.” she presses.

“Okay, Naeun, enough,” Jaemin chuckles. “Mark’s gonna explode if you keep going.”

You look at Mark, whose face was red from embarrassment.

“We’ll see you guys later then,” Naeun says. The couple walk away from your table, Jaemin’s arm still around her. Your throat gets tight.

“Gosh…” Mark giggles. “Sorry. Stuff like that just gets me embarrassed,” he says, shaking his head.

You smile. “It’s okay.”

A waitress comes to the table a few moments later and sets the food you ordered on the table. Your appetite had come back. Seeing the food made you realize how hungry you really were.

Mark takes a bite of his burger. “I swear this place always hits the spot,” he says.

He was right. The food was really good. You were actually kind of mad this restaurant didn’t exist in your universe. It was perfect.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks. It’s so sudden, your first response is to just stare at him with wide eyes.

You swallow your food. “Yeah, why?”

Mark shrugs. “I just wanted to check in. You kinda froze up when Naeun and Jaemin were talking to us.” he says softly.

“Oh…” you set your burger down. “I was feeling kind of awkward because I ran into Jaemin when I left the bathroom. And then I ran away from him,” you laugh.

“Ah,” Mark nods. “I see.”

“Yeah… I’m kind of good at that. Making everything awkward.” you chuckle.

“Oh, shush.” Mark laughs. “Have you ever met me?”

You giggle. “Okay, well… if you’re the most awkward person on the planet, then I’m the close second.” you tell him.

“And that’s why we make such a good pair.” he replies.

Why did you feel so guilty every time you remembered how much you loved Jaemin?

You both finished your meals; Mark, of course, offered to pay for everything. Then you both left the restaurant. The sun was beginning to set.

“Ooh, wait,” you tell Mark, pulling your camera from your bag. He stops to look at you. “Let me take a picture of you here,” you say, pointing to one of the neon signs in the window.

Mark gets in front of it and poses, and you snap the photo. You both watch as it develops. “Perfect.” you show it to Mark.

You decide to head back to Mark’s house to hang out for a few more hours. As the sun set, the city was becoming less crowded. You passed children riding their bikes back home, people arriving home from work. Everything felt so normal, once again.

“Hey,” Mark says as you reach his room. “Check this out.” he grabs his guitar. “I finally learned how to play this song,”

“Hmm?” you lounge on his bed. “What song?”

He strums his guitar. You could already tell how good he had gotten at it; you only got the chance to hear him play twice before he died.

You recognize the song instantly — I’m Yours by Jason Mraz. It brings a smile to your face. Mark sings along softly. You realize his singing voice has gotten better as well.

You listen to him sing and shift to your side, propping yourself up with your elbow and resting your head on your hand. He’s completely immersed in the music. He looks so happy. You slowly retrieve your bag and take a photo of him.

He stops. “Oh… sorry. I kinda got preoccupied there,” he laughs.

“No, it’s okay…” you reply, feeling guilty for pulling him out of his music-induced-daze. “I was enjoying it.”

“Really?” Mark taps the strings of his guitar. “Well… I’ll finish the song then.” he continues strumming, taking a few moments to find where he left off.

You watch him, a soft smile on your face. This was a moment you definitely wanted to savor. If you were going to forget your time here, you at least wanted to remember this. It was beautiful. It was Mark.

[10:45 p.m.]

Mark offered to walk you home before it got too late — he had forgotten that it was a school night for him.

“Are you sure your mom won’t be mad?” Mark asks, nervously.

You laugh. “Once again, no. If she was worried about me we’d see flyers on the telephone poles,” you joke.

Mark chuckles. “Okay… I just don’t wanna get you in trouble for keeping you out so late. I lost track of time, to be honest…”

You nod. “Me too.” You had spent hours listening to Mark play his guitar and he tried to help you learn a song, but you weren’t as musically gifted as him, so it didn’t go very well. But Mark acted as if you were the God of Guitar, cheering when you played a few chords.

“Today was really fun.” he says softly. “If you ever wanna do this to… unwind… or whatever… just let me know.”

You smile. “Of course.”

Your heart drops as your house comes into view. It was your last few moments with Mark.

He walks you to your doorstep this time; he usually just walks to your driveway. It’s almost as if he knows. “Well,” Mark says, sighing. “We’re here.”

You grin, trying to mask your sadness. “Yeah… thanks for today. It was really fun!” you say.

Mark stares at you for a moment. “Um…” his eyes dart around, not sure where to look. “I…”

You watch him as he struggles to form a sentence. “Mark?” you ask softly.

He closes his mouth before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “I just had a lot of fun today.” he says.

You nod slowly. What did he really want to say? “Hurry and go home,” you tell him. “I don’t need you being all tired tomorrow.” your voice is barely above a whisper.

Mark stares at you for a few moments more. “You’re right,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I’m tired already… I’ll probably sleep like a baby when I get home.” Whatever tension was there had disappeared. In a spur-of-a-moment decision, you wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” you tell him. Your head is against his chest; You can hear his heart beating.

“Of course,” he breathes. He finally wraps his arms around you. “Are… you okay?” he asks again.

You feel tears rushing to your eyes again. You chuckle. “I’m fine. I just… I love you.” you whisper. “You’re my best friend, okay? And… I need you to know that.”

He rubs your back. “I love you too,” he replies. “I’m so glad to know you.” he says.

You let him go. You knew you had to.

“Well… I’ll see you tomorrow.” Mark says.

You nod. “I’ll see you.”

You knew it was a lie, but only on your end. He’d see you. You wouldn’t be seeing him. But you knew what you were doing was right. Mark starts walking away, giving you one final smile before he was out of sight.

You push your front door open, going straight to your room and letting yourself cry. You let all of your emotions out. You wanted to run to Mark and hug him again and you never wanted to let go.

You finally pulled yourself together when you heard a faint knock on your door. You wipe your eyes and face quickly, although you knew your face would be puffy from crying. “Come in.”

Jisung peeks in. “Are you okay?”

You nod, although it’s unconvincing — his simple question makes you cry more. “I’m fine.”

“Why are you crying?” Jisung opens the door completely and enters, sitting next to you on your bed. “Did something happen?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m not sad,” you lie. “I’m just… feeling a lot of emotions right now.”

Jisung furrows his brows. “But… you seem sad.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m not, bud. I’m fine. Nothing happened between me and Mark, if that’s what you’re asking. I guess I’m just feeling… thankful. For Mark, and you, and all my friends.”

“Oh…” you can tell Jisung is still confused, but he shrugs it off. “Well… I guess as long as you aren’t sad, it’s okay.”

You feel him wrap and arm around you. You hug him back, feeling much more relieved now that you had cried a bit more.

“I’m going to bed now,” Jisung says, removing his arm from around your shoulders. “Are you sure you’re okay…?”

You nod. “I’m okay, really. Go to bed. Don’t stay up late because of me.” you tell him. He should’ve been in bed already… you realize.

Jisung nods. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you, Jisung.”

He seems taken aback by your words. You don’t blame him — no matter what, telling your sibling you love them still feels awkward.

“Love you too.”

He leaves your room. You pick up your bag from where you had placed it when you got to your room and retrieved your camera. You collect all the photos you had taken. The one of Jisung in the kitchen, him talking to Mark, Mark and his ice cream, everyone outside of the ice cream parlor, him outside of the restaurant, him playing his guitar, and finally, the photo Hyuck had taken of you. You shove them in your pocket, praying that they would return to the correct universe with you.

You lay down on your bed, completely exhausted. You just want to fall asleep, but you know you can’t. You pull out your phone, going to your messages and clicking on Hyuck’s name.

You

let me know when you’re ready.

[satorisa]

Falling: Chapter 1 - In which the Hug is Finally Acknowledged

Rating: T

Summary:  "I wanna forget all this burden in my past."

Alternate Reading: AO3

Lift the Veil? I don’t know her.

D.N.Angel ending? I don’t know her.

But that hug? Lives, rent free in my mind, man.

Warning: Spoilers for the DNAngel ending abound.

After Dark disappeared, the hours continued to flow as if the incident had never occurred. Satoshi brought Risa home that evening before he visited the Niwa household to brainstorm a story for Commissioner Hiwatari’s disappearance. Daisuke slept next to him that night and, while comforted by his friend’s rhythmic breathing and familiar warmth, Satoshi kept his tired eyes on the window, watching as the evening skies brightened to a morning blue.

Commissioner Hiwatari was declared missing the next day, and Inspector Saehara decided to take Satoshi in for the time being. He moved into the Saehara household that same evening, everything he owned packed in a duffel bag weighing on his shoulder, and Takeshi showed him around the house.

Satoshi met Mama Saehara through a video call that same evening. She worked as a fashion designer, and her job had flung her off to Paris this time. He quite liked her.

After they hung up, he had a warm dinner with Takeshi and Inspector Saehara. It was leftovers from last night, but he enjoyed the food nonetheless.

That night, Satoshi slept next to Takeshi, who snored in his ear while either kicking him or rolling on him. Satoshi kept his tired eyes on the window, watching as the evening skies brightened to a morning blue.

He went shopping with the Saeharas the next day. They bought a bunk bed, a desk, and whatever else they thought that Satoshi would need. After that, the days fell back into their familiar rhythm as if the incident had never occurred.

Satoshi slept in the top bed for privacy. Takeshi took the bottom bed since he didn’t quite care. Their desks sat side by side in front of the window: Takeshi’s impeccably spotless and Satoshi’s covered in manila folders and schoolwork.

Everyday, Satoshi woke up, went to school, and attended the art club that Daisuke finally convinced him to join. On some evenings, Inspector Saehara would ask him for help on a case, and they always headed home after work with fried chicken for dinner. For the most part though, Satoshi spent his time after school with Daisuke and Takeshi.

Then Riku moved away.

Risa began to hang out with Daisuke and Takeshi just as much as she hung out with Ritsuko and the other girls, but she still maintained the same distance she had with Satoshi prior to the incident. She’d greet him, cordial and courteous, and she’d smile and laugh with the boys, just like him, but that was the extent of their relationship: friends of friends.

And that was how Satoshi’s second year in middle school came to an end.

…

The last of the art club members finally left. They were a group of giggling girls who clearly only joined to get closer to Satoshi but, after realizing that he wouldn’t pay any attention to them yet again, they decided to call it a day.

Satoshi sighed in relief when the door closed behind them and ran his hand through his hair. Daisuke, president of the art club, laughed at the strands that were sticking up.

“How long are you going to let them stay here?” Satoshi asked, watching the group walk and giggle down below.

“They’ll get tired eventually.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Just wait. They’ll eventually realize how boring you are and set their eyes on someone else.”

Satoshi shot Daisuke a look. He laughed before slipping off his stool.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

“My painting.”

Daisuke, eyes shining with curiosity, scurried over to Satoshi’s canvas. His jaw slacked.

Before him was the familiar visage of Dark outlined in pencil. The sharp angle of his eyes, his chiseled features, his charismatic smile, and his dark hair flowing around him: everything was detailed to utmost perfection.

“Oh my god.”

“How is it?”

“It looks just like him.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

Daisuke nodded, awestruck, but that eventually gave way to a darker expression on his face. “…why are you doing this, though?”

Satoshi shrugged. “I don’t know. Still life practice got boring, so I decided to try doing something different.”

“You could have done something else besides starting on a portrait of Dark.”

“I know, but this is what I ended up making.”

“…are you okay?”

“That’s a rhetorical question.”

Daisuke sighed. “It’s just—we’re worried about you, Satoshi. We don’t want you to hurt yourself, you know? If you’re not ready to face it, you don’t have to.”

“What? Would a portrait of my father have been better?”

“No, Satoshi, I—”

“Sorry,” Satoshi said before getting off his stool. He grabbed his bag and made his way to the door. “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.” At the entrance, he turned around to face Daisuke. “But when the hell am I going to ever be ready?”

…

The sun began to set, casting its golden hue on the busts and wooden stands by the wall. Since Inspector Saehara didn’t need his help that evening, Satoshi stayed after the club meeting to work on his painting. A palette full of varying hues of purple floated gracefully in his left hand while a worn brush sat precariously in his right, waiting to lay down another thoughtful stroke.

The door opened.

“Hello, Hiwatari-kun!”

He tore his eyes away from the canvas to see Risa standing there. She no longer had her customary pink ribbon tying her hair up; her dark locks cascaded down just like Riku’s. If she trimmed some off, she’d be the spitting image of her sister.

Perhaps that was why she changed her hairstyle.

“Are you heading home soon?”

He glanced at his watch: 6:04 PM.

“Maybe.” Satoshi noted the bag slung over her shoulder. “I’m assuming you’re on your way back?”

“Yeah.” She frowned. “Saehara-kun kept us all late today because our monthly issue is coming out. What a workaholic.”

Satoshi smirked. “Like father, like son.”

“His dad’s just like that?”

“Absolutely. His mom’s the same way, too, so it probably runs in the family.”

Risa giggled. The door opened again, and it was the man of the hour himself. He pouted.

“I’m not as bad as my parents.”

“Sure,” Satoshi sarcastically drawled.

Takeshi just shook his head. “Whatever, bro. You headin’ back soon?”

“Maybe. Don’t wait for me if you need to head out.”

“Nah. I kinda want to hit up the arcade for a bit before we go grocery shopping.”

“Can we drop by the bookstore, too? I need to grab a couple of things.”

“Yeah. I think I need some stuff from there, too.” Takeshi then turned to Risa. “You wanna stick around with us, then? No hard feelings if you need to jet, though.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass. I don’t want to stay out too late and worry my parents.” She waved with a smile. “I’ll see you two tomorrow then. Bye!”

Risa skipped out of the room while Takeshi walked over to examine Satoshi’s painting. He whistled.

“Yanno, you’re a little too talented for someone who doesn’t like painting.”

“Shut up. You know how I feel about it.”

“And yet you joined the art club.”

“I have to start somewhere with that positive reassociation and all.”

“And how’s that goin’ for ya?”

“Terrible. I’m hating every second of it.”

“Well, uh, nobody asked you to make a painting of that Dark Mousy fellow, yanno?”

“Couldn’t help it. His handsome face kept bothering me.”

…

Mama Saehara popped up on his phone screen with the Parisian skyline behind her.

“Good evening, Satoshi.”

“Good morning, Saehara-san.”

“No need to be so formal with me! Please, call me Mama.”

“I’d rather not.”

She laughed. “Alrighty, hun. How’re you doing?”

“I’m alright.”

“And the therapy? Have you decided to go?”

“No. I don’t think I can.”

“That’s alright. You’re doing alright. No need to push yourself if you’re not ready.” She sighed. “I just need this project to finish and then I’ll take the first flight I can back to Japan. Just wait for me, okay?”

“No need to rush. Take all the time you need.”

“Oh honey, I appreciate the thought, but I don’t know if I trust those buffoons to take care of you. Speaking of them, how are they treating you?”

“They’re very nice. I like living here, Saehara-san. Thank you for taking me in.”

“I’m glad, Satoshi. And you’re very welcome! It’s the least we could do, truly.”

Her phone rang. Mama Saehara answered before launching into a furious tirade of French. After she hung up, she sighed and began to massage her temples.

“Sorry to cut this call short, but there’s an emergency. I’ll call again as soon as I can. Toodles!”

“Bye. Have a nice day.”

Satoshi saw himself reflected on his phone screen, and he took out his earbuds before leaving the room. He went downstairs to see Inspector Saehara at the table, can of beer open in front of him, while Takeshi began plating the food.

“How’s Ma?” Takeshi asked.

“Alright. Busy,” Satoshi answered. He grabbed some plates and bowls from the cabinets.

“Sound about right,” Takeshi said. “And you?”

“Hm?”

“How’re you?”

“Alright. Tired.”

Takeshi smirked. “Who isn’t?”

He patted Satoshi’s back before putting the plates full of table and hounding his dad about drinking: just another meal at the Saehara household.

Satoshi smiled as he began to set the table.

…

After the club meeting, Satoshi stayed behind to work on his painting, unrestrained by a request from Inspector Saehara. He mindlessly toiled away until the door opened.

“Hi, Hiwatari-kun!”

Risa’s voice broke his focus. Golden hour had passed and the blue hour settled in, dying the room a muted blue. Even Risa, despite her chipper demeanor, seamlessly blended in with the mood.

“Hey, Harada. Did the newspaper club meeting just finish?”

“Nope. It ended a while ago, but I stayed back to wrap something up.”

“So Takeshi’s already gone?”

“Yeah. I think he went to the arcade with a couple of our club members for some bonding time.”

“Ah.”

Risa swayed her head. “Are you heading home soon?”

“Yeah. Let me tidy up here, and I’ll leave with you.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

Satoshi covered his painting with a tarp before leaving the room to clean his brushes and palette. He returned to see Risa on a stool, watching something on her phone. She laughed until she noticed he had returned, and she paused her video before offering a weak wave and smile.

Satoshi grabbed his bag. “You ready to head out?”

“Yup!”

She hopped off the stool. Satoshi closed the door behind them before they walked to the faculty office. He bowed before entering, leaving the keys to the art room with the frazzled student-teacher, and bowed after leaving. Risa trailed behind him uncharacteristically calm and quiet the whole time.

When they got to the shoe lockers, Risa finally broke her silence.

“Hiwatari-kun,” she began as he took off his slippers, “did you know him?”

“Know who?”

“The person I was waiting for that day at the lamppost.”

“It took you this long to ask me about that?”

Risa giggled. “Sorry. I couldn’t find a good time to bring it up.”

“Really? I thought you’d do it by screaming at me about hugging you and overstepping boundaries.”

Risa giggled again. Satoshi raised his eyebrow as he slipped on his shoes. “I was thinking about it, but I thought it’d be too rude to. After all, you appeared when I needed someone the most. Thank you for that.”

“I had a snarky reply to that but, since you’re being genuine, I’ll keep it to myself.”

They reconvened at the entrance. Risa’s smile looked more genuine that the one she had earlier.

Good.

“So, why bring it up now?” Satoshi asked as they began walking out.

“I tried to forget about it. Why should I stay hung up over someone I don’t remember? But, well, long story short, I couldn’t. I want to know who he was.”

They stopped at an intersection. Cars rushed by while commuters joined them, preoccupied with their own lives. Satoshi focused on the red light of the crosswalk, trying not to look at Risa’s expression.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Of course I do! Why else would I be asking you about him?”

“And what if I tell you that it might be overwhelming?”

“So? I’d still want to know!”

“Even if it’ll make you cry?”

“Of course! I don’t want to just forget about him!”

Satoshi sighed. The light at the crosswalk turned green, and they began to move. Risa’s head bobbed with each step, and Satoshi focused on the sidewalk to avoid looking at her.

“Harada, I’d rather not see you cry,” he said. “It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Okay then. I’ll try not to cry.”

“You? Who displays your emotions for the whole world to see? Forget it.”

Risa grabbed his arm, and he turned around. She forced him to look at her. He saw the determination in her eyes, burning just as much as it did when she was chasing Dark mere months ago.

“Hiwatari-kun, please.”

How could he say no to her?

“Alright. Fine. Just give me some time, okay?”

He brushed off her arm, frustrated by her stubbornness. But he saw the softness in her expression when he yielded, and he etched it in his memory.

[imalifegen89]

A Legacy Left Behind - Chapter - 5 - The Gemmond Incident

Part 4

Steve maintained a light jog and Captain Vega kept up the pace easily. They had all seen the Jumper rising to the sky to hover above the Wraith-Carrier to finish it off as promised. The explosion had been massive and instantaneous, making them feel the tremors that ran through the jungle floor even from the distance they were at. Then they had all seen the Jumper slowly turning away and heading towards the ground slightly faster than it should've been for a comfortable landing. Steve aimed a look at Danny who understood the order without Steve really having to verbalize and nodded an acknowledgement. Steve then took off towards the direction the Jumper had been heading with Vega in tow, as she was acting as the medic for this mission.

He heard the appreciative whistle Captain Vega let out seeing the site of destruction. The Spaceship had been turned to dust, literally. About a fifty-yard radius around the center of the explosion had been scorched and a few solitary trees had caught fire. But even as they looked, the fires were dying down. And most importantly, the containment of the blast, the way the pilot had managed the feat, was as close to as perfect as it could get.

They spent a few seconds taking in the sight and took off towards the Puddle Jumper that was now resting on the ground at the edge of the blast radius. The back door opened as they closed in. Steve let Vega enter first and followed right behind her. They had all heard the weariness that came through the comms when Sheppard had finally contacted them with the update. He remembered how Sheppard had looked when he caught him back in Afghanistan and he needed to see with his own eyes to make sure the man hadn't done himself any major damage.

They found both pilots more or less sprawled on their seats on the front. Lorne had his head resting on the control panel in front of him with both arms wrapped around his head securely. Sheppard had his chair halfway turned towards Lorne, his body stretched out with his left leg up, his foot resting on the side panel with the DHD. He was resting his head on the headrest of his seat with the back of one hand covering his eyes and the other just dangling at his side lifelessly. They presented a picture of two guys suffering from a massive hangover after a night of bar hopping and excessive drinking. Steve would have laughed at the sight if he hadn't known the real cause of this picture of misery.

"Alright you two, tell me who hurts more?" Vega was all business, but she kept her voice soft to avoid aggravating their obvious headaches.

Lorne raised a finger and pointed towards John without bothering to move any other part of his body. John mumbled something that sounded like ‘Lorne’ but came out more of a moan. Vega went for expedience. Since Sheppard was half-turned her way already and they could both see the markings on his face, she chose him first.

"Major, move your hand, I need to check you."

Sheppard sighed in agreement and slowly removed his hand. Steve could see the impressive bruising that covered most of his jaw and the swollen split lip. He could also see the remnants of dried blood around his nose.

Then he saw the open jacket and the uniform and inhaled sharply.

"Sheppard, your uniform - did they try to feed on you?" He kept his voice low and soft, but the inquiry came out way sharper than he intended.

Sheppard opened his eyes fully and inclined his head towards Steve, locking his gaze with him.

"It was alright, Steve - ruining my vest and shirt was as far as they got. I had it under control." He then gave him a lopsided grin that melted away to a pained grimace.

"He had a plan," Lorne announced, his face still hidden under the protection of his arms.

Vega checked the pilot over and handed him the industrial-strength pain killers she had, as directed by Dr. Lam, especially for the gene carriers. All the assigned medics in the field teams carried those as standard items in their kit. Sheppard didn't really have any serious injuries that needed urgent care and the bruising on his face needed ice, which was not really a part of a field med-kit. Apart from the raging headache, he seemed to be fine.

Then she turned towards Lorne to repeat the process.

Steve moved closer to Sheppard and rested a hand lightly on his shoulder. Sheppard moved his head to rest his cheek on the back of Steve's hand.

Lorne, who had finally uncurled from his position at Vega's urging to take his pain killers, pointed an accusing finger at John. “All I'm saying is, man, the next time you go and offer yourself up for the main course, let us know beforehand, yeah?"

Steve's hand tightened on John's shoulder upon hearing that bit of information. John rubbed his cheek on his hand like a cat, an effort to calm and assure him. "Hey, I did warn you! Besides, it worked didn't it?"

"What if the thing had the chance to feed on you before you could get a hold of it?" Lorne shot back.

"Nah, it didn't. I did what I did to get him to put his guard down. They enjoy the pain they inflict while they feed, Lorne. The fucker had to open his mind before he could feed on me. That's why I lured him in like that, so I could do what I did."

Steve was listening intently to the insanity of the plan John had devised to do something. But when he thought back to the chaos that surrounded them during their escape, it dawned on him. He knew exactly what the pilot had been doing.

"All those Drones that started dropping dead? That was you, wasn't it?" he asked. He hadn't realized that Sheppard could go on the offense as well as defense with the telepathic attacks.

"Well, indirectly. Those things are all connected to each other, sort of like a hive-mind thing. When I attacked the mind of the Wraith, it had a cascading effect. I kinda saw the same thing when I was back in Afghanistan, you know? When the Wraith female had me, I saw glimpses of those connections and they looked frayed. Maybe because I had already killed the male by then. That time I was only concerned about finishing her as quickly as I could. Today, I figured I would try something different. I had to give the rest of you a chance to get everyone out. And it did work," the pilot explained, his eyes closed and his cheek still resting on Steve's grip.

John's reply told Steve that the pilot hadn't known for sure either. The crazy asshole had played a dangerous game on a guess - well, an educated guess - but still a guess nevertheless. 'Shouldn't have brought up that Baghdad bullshit before we left,' Steve berated Danny in his mind.

"Do you think whatever you did extended to Drones in the Darts around the Gate and the city?" Steve asked. They needed to devise a plan of attack if that was not the case.

"Ah, crap! I don't know! Let me check." The painkiller seemed to be working and John was a bit more alert. He turned his chair slowly to face the Jumper screen and concentrated.

The Jumper's Heads-Up-Display came to life at Sheppard's urging and started scanning the area for the requested data. It showed that the six Darts that had been patrolling near the Gate all crashed to the ground, as well as the nine Darts that were circling the city. There were two more Darts; one had crashed in the jungle on the way to the ship and another one had also crashed just a few hundred yards away from the Jumper. The display also showed that there was a possibility that there were captured Gemmondians in those two jumpers since they were on their way back to the ship when they crashed.

"Shep, we need to call SGC. Give them a report, get them up to date on what happened here, and possibly get somebody who can figure out a way to maybe reverse that and free those people," Steve suggested.

"The rest of the team is with the Gemmondians, right?" Sheppard asked.

"Yeah, they’re about three hundred yards from here. We were talking to them earlier - they know the way to get back to the city through the jungle. Apparently, they have some villages nearby as well. Some other race called Nasyans? They said they can trek to the nearest village and get back to the city the next day," Steve replied.

Sheppard nodded. "Let's send some of our guys with them. That way we can keep our eyes on them and know where they go. Also easier to contact them if we need anything from them or vice versa." He tapped his radio and activated the team channel. "Sheppard to Williams."

"Go ahead, flyboy, you good?" Danny answered with a question.

"Yeah, yeah. Listen, how far is the village they wanna go to?" Sheppard inquired.

"Tesson - that's one of the councilwomen - she is saying they can make it to the nearest village in about 2 hours, even if they took their time walking. So I'm guessing about 10 klicks maybe?"

"Ok, send three of ours with them. We should be able to keep the radio coverage with that distance. The rest of you, return to Jumper. We are heading back to the Gate to report what happened here and then make a plan on how to help these people. Oh, and Danny, is there anyone who can't make the journey? Anyone injured? Anybody who needs to go to the city urgently?"

"Nah, no one is seriously injured. Guess those life-suckers didn't want to contaminate the food supply. But there are two councilwomen - Tesson and Nehra - they'd like to go back to the city if at all possible. They might be able to calm the situation there," Danny informed Sheppard.

"Alright, bring them with you. We will go to the Gate first, report to SGC, and then return them to the city," Sheppard ordered.

"Roger that," there was a click as Williams signed out to go and do as ordered.

..........

"Y’all look like you've been busy,"

The connection had been established through the Stargate with the SGC without a hitch and almost all of them let out a collective sigh at seeing Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell's face fill the screen instead of Dixon's.

Danny had sent Bates, Adam, and Cadman with the Gemmondians to the village. Bates, because some of the Gemmondians knew him and were grateful for the familiar face, Adam because he was the secondary medic, and Cadman, as she was the other equivalent of a 'walking armory’ apart from Higgins. The rest of them, along with the tearfully indebted councilwomen had crowded into the Jumper, reached the Gate in about five minutes, and dialed home to report.

"Yeah, we were. Gemmond was under attack by Wraith and we flew right into the middle of it," said Sheppard.

The Colonel's eyes widened at that and the amused grin disappeared. He had been sure that they were in trouble for starting a bar brawl or something, given the time of the year at Gemmond and their ruffled and bruised looks.

"Start from the beginning, Shep. Tell us what happened," the Lieutenant Colonel ordered.

Sheppard launched into a report of the events. He described the scene when they flew in, the recon they did over the city, how they followed the Dart into the Wraith Carrier, the rescue of the prisoners, how they dealt with the Wraith, and finally about blowing it all to oblivion. Steve and Danny also joined in, describing their sides of the narrative and they all kept the verbal report short yet filled with important details.

"...and then me and Lorne, we left the Carrier in the Jumper. We blew it up once everybody cleared the blast Zone. Adam, Bates, and Cadman are there with the Gemmondians on their way to a nearby village as we speak," Sheppard finished the account. Glancing back, he could see everyone was focused on the screen and the account of the day's events. Tesson and Nehra, who had been patiently listening, had gone pale. Whether it was because of the shock at being captured by the Wraith or because they were scared of his team and how they had handled the situation, Sheppard wasn't sure.

The Colonel was probably seeing something similar on his screen because he put on his highly effective, greet-the-natives smile, and addressed the Gemmondian Councilors directly.

"Hello ma'am. I'm Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell of the Stargate Command. Can you please tell me what happened? Before our people got there? As I understand, the Gate was blocked from your side by the Wraith. When did the attack start?"

The older woman, who introduced herself as Tesson, stood up from where she was sitting at the back of the Jumper and came forward to speak to Mitchell.

"We have been hearing stories from the travelers who came to our planet for some time now, Colonel. They were talking about the strange starships that would appear in the sky, then send down their awful flyers to catch people. The people would disappear, never to be seen again. The stories about an evil enemy who can control minds and breed fear among us, scare us like prey into running for our lives. They called it 'the Culling'. They said they were hunting humans for food. We didn't want to believe those fanciful stories, although the travelers were scared out of their minds. We were happy to let them stay in Gemmond however, because here it was safe, or so we thought." shudder ran through her entire body as she inevitably started reliving the memory of the attack. Vega slowly guided her to sit on the chair behind Sheppard.

Then Tesson took in a deep breath, slowly exhaled, and started to relate the rest of her story.

"It was only a few hours after the day's 'First Rising Call.’ The Ring activated and those horrible little flyers came in. Our city security managed to raise the alarm, but it wasn't much help. I dispatched a group to dial the Ring for help, but they couldn't. They came back and reported that these things were holding it captive. Then they started circling above the city. They destroyed some of the buildings - they were herding us all out - that much was clear. Then they started swooping down and activating their strange beams. Our people started disappearing,"

She had tears rolling down her eyes and Danny offered her his can of water. She took it gratefully and gulped down some water before continuing,

"One moment I was helping a group of children inside a building and the next everything went black. When I woke up, I was inside that thing along with many others. I was there for about an hour when your people showed up. This entire attack must have been going on for about three hours since those things first came in.” She paused and looked at each of them, gratitude shining in her eyes. “I must thank you all from the deepest of my heart, for arriving when you did. As luck would have it, it seemed that you arrived just in time to prevent a greater tragedy. We already had lost some of our citizens to those abominations. But it could have been so much worse," she continued to address the team inside the Jumper. "I do mean it. People of Gemmond are once again in your debt. On behalf of my people, I do thank you."

She rose from her seat and bowed to all of them, Nehra also stood in the back and followed suit. They were all a bit uncomfortable at the display. The team understood, but for them, they were just doing their duty.

"It's alright ma'am, we’re glad we showed up on time too," Sheppard said, flashing a lopsided, almost shy smile. It worked. Tesson returned the smile and sat back on the seat. Then implored both Mitchell, Sheppard, and everyone else, to address her as Tesson.

"Is there anything we can do for you, Tesson? Anything you need? Medical care? Any supplies?" Mitchell inquired.

"Please, medical care would be much appreciated. Our food supplies were not targeted. Our harvest is safe. I believe they didn't need to bother with those, since they were collecting us as their food supply. I and my fellow councilors just need to get our people to clean up the destruction those flyers left behind. They need to focus on being productive so that it will help to calm them down and distract them from the harrowing shock we have all experienced, and to prevent everyone from wallowing in grief and losing their minds."

She sounded confident as she already had some sort of a plan to get her city back in order. Mitchell nodded decisively. "We’ll send a few teams right away, Tesson, along with a few doctors and medical supplies. Our guys will stay around to help with getting the city cleaned and organized as well."

"I thank you, again." With that, she rose, bowed, and went to the back of the Jumper to sit next to Nehra.

"Oh, and Colonel, you might need to bring a few scientists or maybe engineers with you. We have two crashed Darts in the jungle area that still have the dematerialized people still in them. The Jumper's got all the data and the locations already marked. So, if our people can have a look and see whether we can free them as well?" Sheppard added.

"Hmm, Let me talk to Carter. She might not be able to make it, but she would know who’s best to deal with that," Mitchell said thoughtfully."Shep, do you think there are any more ships? Maybe in orbit?”

"I don't really know, Colonel. The jumper ran a few scans around the area here - there’s nothing at the moment. But I can't be sure about the orbit, or near space of the planet. I didn't get the sense that the Wraith managed to send any hyperspace message to a nearby ship, but it's a possibility," replied Sheppard. "I can take the jumper up once I have dropped Tesson and Nehra at the city, fly a few rounds around the planet and scan the space to be sure," he offered.

Mitchell studied both the pilots for a few moments before shaking his head.

"No. You and Lorne both still look like hell and I don't think a few more hours of flying with your mind would do either of you any good. Drop the ladies and bring the Jumper back to the gate. I’ll come over with SG-1 and I can take her for a spin around the planet," he grinned at the thought of that. "Don't worry, I’ll take good care of your baby." He laughed, noticing the grimace Sheppard was trying to hide.

Sheppard was truly grateful for the offer since he still felt like his head was about to split open. But the thought of handing the Jumper over to another pilot still grated on his nerves. He had become a bit attached to the clever little craft, he realized.

"You all have already done an amazing job," Mitchell addressed the entire team. "Taking on a freaking Wraith ship all by yourselves is not a small deal. You’ve earned a break. I’ll pick up the other three of your team and bring them along as well. I'll bring three teams with me and once we are there, you guys can return home. Then get yourselves checked out and take the rest of the day off. We will do a full debriefing tomorrow with your live feeds, Jumper records, and everything. I'm sure General O'Neill will want to be there for this too. If this is happening on other planets as well, that means the Wraith are busy stocking up supplies and they are getting ready for something big. But we’ll discuss this further tomorrow. See you all in thirty, Mitchell out,"

With that, the connection terminated and Sheppard nudged the Jumper towards the city.

[greetjk]

Ironfam Whump/Angst Fic Recs

Here is a masterlist of some of my all-time favorite whump/angst Spider-Man fics! If anyone is looking for some good reads while in quarantine, here you go! Be sure to read the tags and warnings associated with each story, because many of them have potentially triggering or sensitive subject matter. Read safe!!

CHAPTERED FICS

A Parent Apparent by happyaspie (446k+, ongoing)  

Where Tony and Peter’s relationship grows into more of a father/son relationship after an accident involving Aunt May (who lives).

Identity Theft by KitCat992 (244k+)

It's been months since the events of Civil War, and the Avengers are doing their best to remain a team, having promised to forgive and forget. Unfortunately for them, Tony Stark's latest invention has been stolen and recovering it causes tension to reappear.

Meanwhile, in Queens, Peter Parker has two main priorities on his plate — complete his midterm finals, and track down a fishbowl wearing criminal that may or may not lead him right into the hands of the Avengers.

Somehow between all of this, Spider-man's identity is revealed to the Avengers, Steve and Tony's friendship may permanently be damaged due to continued hidden secrets, and Happy struggles to buy a youth-sized casket for Peter's funeral.

Things were a lot easier when they were fighting over Bucky Barnes.

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle (200k+) 

Ben and May divorced before Peter’s parents died, so when Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves.

Simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help. Peter isn’t about to turn down an opportunity to fight alongside Tony Freaking Stark, but he also isn’t going to let his hero know that his recruit is a fifteen-year-old homeless dropout. So they strike a deal. Peter will help Tony. In return, the mask stays on.

And that’s when things get complicated.

ever in your favor by iron_spider (153k+)

Peter startles awake when someone shakes him.

“Sorry, honey,” May says. Peter blinks a couple times and she comes into focus, her hair pulled back from her face. She’s trying not to look a certain way, but he can see it in her eyes anyway. She clears her throat, keeps talking. “But it’s…” She glances away, wets her lips. “You gotta get ready.”

He remembers what day it is, and his heart beats like a drum at someone’s execution. But he tries to put on a mask, make it all seem normal. It’s everything but, despite the fact that he’s been dealing with reaping day since he was born, between himself, Ben and May. That fear that one of them could be taken away. Sent to surefire slaughter. But now Ben is gone, taken despite never having his name drawn from a bowl, and May’s finally safe. Now Peter’s name is in there alone. The last Parker sitting on the chopping block. He doesn’t know how to be. He doesn’t know what normal is, when the Hunger Games are looming on the horizon.

I Never Knew I was Broken by GotMyInkPen (111k+, ongoing) 

Peter Parker has been living in HYDRA ever since his parents died at age four. All he can remember are the lesson's HYDRA taught him and a series of words that strike fear into his heart. The only thing driving him forward are the memories of meeting his hero The Winter Soldier when he was seven and the goal to one day be as great an assassin as him.

At age sixteen Peter finds himself tangled in the lives of the Avengers and can't help but wonder if there's more to life than what he's been told.

Tony wants to help him, no matter what.

In the Home by aloneintherain (68k+)

The Avengers have been infected, turned violent and aggressive against their will. And Peter, the only one unaffected, is trapped inside the Tower with six feral teammates.

“Natasha,” Peter says cautiously, “what happened here? Steve attacked me, and if there was ever a sign that something was wrong, it’s having the embodiment of Truth, Justice, and the American Way throw you across the room—”

Natasha comes closer, her stride controlled. Nothing necessarily out of the ordinary, but there’s something in her face, in her eyes—

Natasha lunges across the space, and slams into Peter, hard.

Promotions Aren't Always A Good Thing by Svn_f1ower (67k+) 

"When Peter was almost thirteen, May met Carter."

"Not too many months after Carter moved in, May got a promotion at work."

When May gets a new boyfriend, Peter's okay. When Carter moves in, he can deal. When May gets a promotion so she works days and Carter works nights, Peter finds it harder to deal. When Carter starts abusing him, he begins to feel crushed by the weight of it all.

Archetype by Bean_reads_fanfic (57k+)

Tony knows something is up when the research of ex-Hydra agents gets recycled in an underground Oscorp lab… what he doesn’t expect is the boy in a hospital gown sticking to the ceiling; or, how said boy proceeds to imprint on him like a baby duckling (a poor decision on his part, really). Did he mention he wasn’t intending on bringing home a kid that day?

Filling the Gaps by ironfamjam (53k+)

Tony looked at him, bold and true and utterly sincere, “Kid, I’m on your side, no matter what.”

Like most good things, it started with an accident.

Well, kinda.

This is a story about how a snarky, emotionally stunted genius became more than a mentor and how a just-trying-to-figure-it-out, doing his best superkid became the son he never had. No matter how empty our hearts are, love can always fill the gaps.

There’s a hole in my head and my words are falling out by wolfpuppypiles (30k+)

Tony’s stomach clenched into a knot at the sudden cut off of Peters' voice because he hadn’t trailed off, no his word had been strangled before a groan and crash sounded from the other side of the door.

Steve jumped in fright at the crash and Tony’s stomach curled tighter at the heavy thump of something hitting the carpet. Something like Peter.

let’s kick it by CivilBores (28k+)

Tony and Peter’s relationship becomes strained after the events of Infinity War. When a mysterious alien gas infects Peter with a strange disease, they realize they need to pull themselves together or risk losing everything.

For Pete’s Sake! by KitCat992 (26k+)

Maybe he’d feel better if he closed his eyes, just for a second. It was too dark to see anything clearly anyway, and he’d be able to concentrate better without seeing how fast the ground was coming up to meet him.

A rush of wind sent goosebumps across his skin before two strong hands gripped his shoulders tightly, keeping him upright and from nose-diving straight into the alleyway cement.

Peter snapped his eyes open, blinking a couple times to clear his vision. Everything was blurry. Was that…?

“...ice cream man!?”

how can the body die? (you tell me, everything) by madasthesea (8k+)

Tony felt panic creep up his spine. Something was occurring to him, slowly percolating in the back of his mind.

“You said the stinger got you. Is Scorpion’s stinger venomous?”

“I don’t—” Peter cut off as he groaned, the muscles in his jaw tight. “I don’t know. He upgraded—he was faster. Bigger. I—I thought I could beat him.”

beam me up, mr. chewbacca by iron_spider (6k)

“It’s 4:58 in the morning,” Karen says. “Your morning alarm is set to ring at seven. By the time you make it home, you will not have much time to sleep. Less than an hour, and that’s only if you fall asleep immediately.” Peter hums to himself, blinking blearily. “I’ll go to sleep, it’s fine.” “And you have the Macbeth report due tomorrow,” Karen says. “Two thousand words, of which you have written...six.” “Oh shit,” Peter gasps, his heart jumping in his chest. “Okay, I’m not gonna sleep.” “This is the type of event that Mr. Stark has told me to inform him about,” Karen says. “Because he is aware you wouldn’t share this type of thing with him on your own.” “Do not do that,” Peter says, shooting another web and cascading through an alleyway. “For real. For real for real. It’s fine, I got it, he doesn’t need to know, okay? He’s busy, this is—Spidey business, I got this, I’ll tell him when it’s all over. All the details. Cross my heart.”

Poison Apple by whumphoarder (5k)

“I-I think something’s wrong with me.”

Ned gives a short laugh. “Pretty sure we established that when you puked in a corn maze. You’ve got like, food poisoning or something.”

Peter shakes his head. “No, not that.” He takes a few short breaths. “Chest feels weird. Kinda hard to breathe.”

ONE-SHOTS

On sleepless roads the sleepless go by frostysunflowers (10k+)

Peter and sleep have been avoiding each other lately. Enter Tony Stark, the man with many plans.

you heal my like the light of day by searchingforstars (9k)

Peter tries to hide a stab wound and an infection-fuelled fever is never any fun. Also, it turns out that Beck is still lurking in Peter's mind much more than anyone realised.

a numb road forward by WhimsicalEthonographies (5k)

The light is bright, painfully so, but Peter can’t jerk away, he can’t do anything because his body is being crushed by something heavy but not entirely unpleasant.

“Hey, there he is,” Mr. Stark’s face appears in front of him, blocking the white light, thank God, then May’s face is next to his, blurry and hazy but it’s them and that’s nice.

“Hi, baby,” May smiles but she looks sad. So does Mr. Stark.

Cyanide? In My Shawarma? by losingmymindtonight (4k+)

Pepper convinces Tony to bring Peter along on his first dinner with the Rogue Avengers since their pardoning.

Poor Tony had thought the whole thing was a recipe for disaster before someone decided to shove some cyanide in his food.

stop, don’t start by iron_spider (3k)

“Shit shit shit.” Tony severely underestimated this guy, if this is on him, because Tony has a backup plan for every backup plan in his suit, has protocols for every misstep, every frayed wire, every glitch, and yet here he is, someone else’s weapon.

The true horror of it doesn’t set in until Tony sees Spider-Man swing by—Tony raises his own hand, aims and locks on.

“No, no!” Tony yells, panicking. “No!”

He shoots a repulsor blast, and knocks Peter out of the air.

Something the Soul Needs by blondsak (3k)

As he races closer, Tony winces at the knowledge that Peter had to have already hit the pavement-- that he was too late. But when Tony finally gets around the last corner, he sees that no-- Peter didn’t hit the pavement. Instead, the scene that greets him is somehow inconceivably worse.

Rather than landing on the cement - which would have been bad enough - Peter had landed on a fence. An old, rusting, wrought iron spiked fence.

[of-muppets-and-men]

Penumbra

Chapter 7: Daybreak

New update i forgot to post here. Whoops. AO3 link if prefer it instead.

Another hushed morning in the Soul Society.

It was around five’o’clock, a time where most souls were still very much asleep. Seated Officers, Lieutenants, and a handful of Squad Captains as well. An unforeseen benefit of the peaceful era they’d fought for. No real remaining threats outside of common hollows necessitated any sort of urgency. Complacent as it may seem, Head Captain Kyoraku had made it clear this was to be mandated.

After all, the majority of the shinigami reserve forces needn’t bother themselves with the potential return of Yhwach. They wouldn’t stand a chance anyway. 

As much as Yoruichi wished to take full advantage of said mandate, Suì-Fēng  had other ideas. The former captain and current lieutenant of Squad 2 wouldn’t let her Captain slack off for any reason whatsoever. Paperwork, logistics, training. All seemingly without end. And so Yoruichi sat at her desk, stacks upon stacks of paperwork surrounding her and her dutiful lieutenant. Suì-Fēng was almost too happy to be once again serving her beloved Lady Yoruichi.

“UGhhhh… Can we take a break yet? It’s too early for this…” The Captain groaned.

“My Lady, we can’t afford to slack off. What example are we setting for the squad if we do?” Her Lieutenant lecture.

Yoruichi pressed her head against her desk, folded arms over her head. Suì-Fēng chuckled at her Captain’s dismay when it hit. A massive wave of spiritual pressure came out of nowhere, sending a shiver down both their spines. The room quaked, the air reverberated. It was so dense, Suì-Fēng could barely breathe, the pressure on her lungs becoming overwhelming. As she leaned against the desk, struggling to stand, she felt a hand at her waist propping her up. Suì-Fēng’s gaze drew upward to see Yoruichi’s face adorned with shock. She immediately recognized the spiritual energy cascading and pulsing through the air.

“Captain.. Who is that?”

“Katsumi…” was all she whispered in return, “Let’s go, Suì-Fēng.”

The commander of the punishment force bolted out of her office with Suì-Fēng in tow. Flash Stepping as fast she could through the halls of her manor, desperately trying to reach her daughter’s room. The Captain and her lieutenant practically broke the door open to see Katsumi standing on her bed, zanpakuto in hand. The main difference being it was no longer the normal Odachi she handed to Katsumi the night before. It was bigger, much bigger.

It couldn’t be, she thought to herself. Yoruichi pushed herself towards Katsumi, her own weight betraying her with every step. Suì-Fēng stood bereft of strength or words, marvelling at the inherent power of a mere child. Katsumi’s mother shook her awake with whatever willpower remained. The young girl’s eyes peered open, tired and confused, her mother’s distraught golden eyes staring back at her.

“Mom? What’s going on?”

“Shikai…” Yoruichi quietly remarked, now truly seeing the blade Katsumi held.

Now perhaps more confused than before, Katsumi puzzled “What?”

“Don’t worry about anything for now. You were releasing absurd amounts of spirit energy, so I thought something was wrong. I’ll tell you everything after breakfast. But it looks like we’re starting your training sooner than i thought…” Her mother explained.

Katsumi’s fatigue came surging back, causing the girl to fall asleep for another three hours, and Zanpakuto still safely in her clutches. The paperwork Yoruichi had left behind was soon finished in a lightning round between Suì-Fēng and herself. Now with Katsumi achieving Shikai, she had no time to dawdle with her Squad’s trivial matters. Though she still had trouble believing it; Shikai? After barely telling Katsumi what it was? Rukia… Ichigo… your daughter is a prodigy, The Captain repeated in her mind. 

Prodigy. A broad term but true in every sense in Katsumi’s case. She was progressing at an outrageous pace that would make Captain Hitsugaya jealous. If she could achieve Shikai in little more than an afternoon, how long would it take her to learn the other aspects of a Shinigami. 

Zanjutsu? Shunpo? Kido? Hakuda? Shunko? Or perhaps even Bankai? Goosebumps littered Yoruichi’s arms at the thought. 

Not long after Yoruichi managed to finish slogging through her less exciting duties as Captain, Katsumi at last woke up. Albeit still hazy on what had occurred beforehand. But fortunately, both their troubles could be eased by a spot of breakfast. Together, they made their way to the expansive dining room in the center of the manor. There Katsumi gorged her little mouth on Onigiri; Pickled Plum, her favourite. As the child ate her fill, her curiosity spiked yet again, prompting Katsumi to bombard Yoruichi with questions.

“So mom? Are you gonna tell me what ‘Shikai’ is? How did my sword get so big? Can yours do that…” the girl babbled on and on.

“Whoa! Slow down there, kiddo. Before I answer any of those questions, there’s a place I wanna show you first. Kinda like a secret hideout.”

“Secret Hideout?!” Katsumi reiterated with glee.

“Mhmm. Wanna see it?”

“Uhh, Yeah!”

“Then let’s go. Make sure to bring your Zanpakuto with you.” Yoruichi said lovingly.

In a flash, Katsumi cleaned and dried the dishes and stormed down the hallways in search of her blade. Meanwhile her mother stood astonished at her endless enthusiasm. As Yoruichi waited, she began to reminisce on how she had brought Ichigo to the very same place all those years ago. If only you could meet her, Yoruichi lamented on Ichigo’s absence. A part of Yoruichi would never understand Rukia’s decisions; why she never found the heart to confess… but at the very least, Katsumi was happy. But for how much longer?

“Mom! I got it!” Katsumi announced from down the hall.

Yoruichi shook her head, shaking off her darker thoughts and focused on her daughter, “Well, let’s get a move on then.”

The elder soul grabbed a pack she’d asked one of her many attendants to prepare, filled with an abundance of snacks; including a new pocky flavour Kisuke procured for her. The lady of the house made her way to the courtyard, her staff bowing politely as she passed by. To Katsumi’s surprise, her mother knelt down and coaxed her to grab hold.

“C’mon sweetheart. It’ll be faster this way.”

“Umm Okay…” Katsumi replied, doing as she instructed.

“Alright. And a one and a two and…”

Just like that, the pair vanished into thin air. Yoruichi Flash Stepped from rooftop to rooftop with little effort doing so. Katsumi beamed with delight as they soared over the Seireitei; other souls appearing as no more than insignificant flecks. The girl’s vision arbitrarily gawked to and fro at every landmark in sight. Until she felt a tap from her Yoruichi, who then pointed toward Sokyoku hill.

“That’s where we need to be.”

“Why there?”

Yoruichi chuckled and purred, “You’ll see.”

Instead of landing on the hill like she’d anticipated, her mother swerved left toward an inconspicuous little alcove built in the rock face. The young soul hopped off her mother’s shoulders and inspected the quaint little hideout. Although, Katsumi couldn’t hide her disappointment.

“I like it but are you sure it’s big enough?”

Yoruichi smirked at Katsumi’s child-like chagrin, “Follow me.”

Yoruichi then opened a hatch Katsumi hadn’t noticed before, carefully hidden amongst the floor tiles. A light jump and Yoruichi disappeared down the hole. Katsumi rushed over to look down the hatchway, seeing darkness with a vague hint of light at the bottom. With a deep sigh to psyche herself up, Katsumi followed her mother’s example and jumped.

The fall lasted a few seconds despite looking far deeper, or so her young mind conjured. She opened her eyes to see a vast cavern, far bigger than she could’ve ever imagined. Yoruichi ruffled a hand delicately through Katsumi’s hair and she ogled at every inch of her old training grounds.

“Impressed now?” Her mother asked coyly.

Even without uttering a single syllable, Yoruichi could tell she exceeded her daughter’s expectations. 

“Shall we begin?” The Captain questioned once more.

“Yes!” Katsumi replied, nodding so hard it looked like her head would pop off.

“Alright. But first and foremost; here, you are my student and I am your teacher. You listen to me no differently than you do at home, okay?”

Another enthusiastic nod. In a moment’s notice, Yoruichi jumped onto a higher platform, arms crossed like an instructor.

“Good. Now you must know that all Zanpakuto have three states. The first is the unreleased states, which you have now. The next is Shikai, when a Shinigami learns the name of his or her Zanpakuto. And the last state is Bankai, but today you’ll be learning how to summon your Shikai at will.”

“How will I do that?” Katsumi mused.

“By learning your release command. A specific word that will transform your Zanpakuto into the form you saw last night.”

The young soul searched her mind to remember that form. Its shape and design.. What was it? Delving further, it came back to her, slowly but surely. A massive cleaving blade, far larger than it was now, with metal bands lining a hollow center. She could recall it with perfect clarity; Tōgetsu’s true form. But what was the release command?

“How will I know the right word?” She pleaded.

“Unsheathe your blade and find out.” Yoruichi snidely lectured.

A quick pout escaped Katsumi’s lungs before she did as her mother instructed. She removed the sash from her shoulder, drawing the greatsword from its scabbard. It felt like forever since she held it properly, the weightlessness of it catching her off guard as it had the first time. But expectantly, the blade remained silent; Katsumi unable to her Tōgetsu’s voice as she had previously. She held it every which way but alas, it changed nothing.

“Why won’t isn’t it working?!!”  Katsumi shouted in frustration.

While her daughter fiddled with her zanpakuto, she slipped back by her side and calmly placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Easy, Katsumi. This isn’t a thing that can be forced so just breathe and concentrate. Your Zanpakuto will do the rest.”

The girl huffed and puffed but ultimately headed her mother’s advice. She held the blade steady in both hands, closed her eyes and took deep deliberate breaths. 

Tōgetsu, tell me how to release you. 

Silence. 

Tōgetsu, please…

Remember my name and dream… A voice she knew whispered.

“Dream, Tōgetsu.” Katsumi repeated.

She opened her eyes and marvelled alongside her mother at the now transformed blade in her hands. Katsumi erupted with joy; Yoruichi rubbed a hand through her daughter’s hair.

“You did it, Sweetheart.” Yoruichi said lovingly as Katsumi continued to giggle, “Now let’s practice the basics.”

Later that same day

Rukia was alone in the Kuchiki household, preparing for bed. Renji had more business to attend to at the Sixth Division barracks alongside Byakuya, so both of them would be spending the night there. Ichika was sound asleep and had been for the past hour. Rukia had every intention of following suit. At least, she was until a Hell Butterfly came sputtering through her open window. 

Puzzled, she held out a hand for the messenger to land on, unsure of who’s voice to expect. Low and behold, Yoruichi’s voice came through.

Rukia. Meet me at my old hideout beneath Sokyoku Hill. There is something you absolutely must see. Also, make sure you come alone.

Before Rukia could even respond, the butterfly flew off back out the window, leaving Rukia alone with her thoughts. Something I need to see? What on earth did that mean? Far too tired to give it any more thought, Rukia slipped beneath her covers, drifting off into a deep slumber. The morning would come soon enough.

And so it did.

Rukia managed to slip away under the guise of running an errand, leaving Renji and Ichika at home. The acting captain made her way through the semi busy streets, ducking through alleyways to avoid any members of her squad. Eventually, she made it to the alcove Yoruichi had shown her years before. Speaking of her old friend, she stood waiting for her to arrive.

“Yoruichi, what’s this all about? First you send me a message in the middle of the night and now have me sneaking through the Seireitei to get here.”

“You’ll see once we get down there.”

Both women handed down into the depths of the old training area, but mid-descent, Rukia heard unfamiliar grunts and shouts. She focused her ears on the encroaching voice, clarifying the closer she got. And the reiatsu Rukia felt… Katsumi?

It had to be. But it’s strength was unlike anything her daughter had mustered before. Definitely stronger than an officer, perhaps even matching most of the current Captains…

Rukia followed her old friend deeper into the cavern, tracing the origin of her firstborn’s voice. However, the closer she got, the more apparent Katsumi’s increasing might became. Her legs slowly turning to jelly, the weight of her petite frame pressing down upon her. But even though Rukia’s breaths shortened with every step, she felt no fear of any kind. Just happiness. 

Finally, Katsumi came into sight, intently practicing the basic forms of zanjutsu. From mere meters away, Rukia watched on as her eldest’s reiatsu encircled her like a blazing torch. Wind swirled and danced around her aura. Its breathtaking silver hue overpowering the natural light of the surrounding cavern. Tears of joy formed in the corners of Rukia’s violet eyes, Yoruichi standing by her side rubbing her back.

“She looks so much like him…” Rukia gushed, half-heartedly wiping at her eyelids.

A smile and a chuckle escaped Yoruichi’s lips, “That she does… Oi! Katsumi! Look who’s here.”

The girl’s concentration broke, the energy around her dissipating like snow. Katsumi’s eyes locked with Rukia’s, violet mirroring violet. A grin from ear to ear materialized on the girl’s face, full on sprint towards her beloved ‘aunt’. 

“AUNTIE RUKIA!!” She screamed, colliding with a thud.

“Hello, sweetie.” Rukia smiled in return.

The two shared an earnest hug that Yoruichi felt hard pressed to interrupt, “Care to show Auntie Rukia what you’ve been practicing?”

“Practicing?” Rukia said as she felt her daughter’s warmth slip away from her.

Bewildered, the woman watched Katsumi assume a stance with her Zanpakuto. It didn’t resemble any form taught at the academy so what in the world was she up to? Eyes closed, the apprentice brought the blade an inch before her forehead. With her grip slack, Reiatsu surged around her yet again. But unlike previously, it felt more calm, controlled… like the delicate wisps of candlelight. And in a serene voice, Katsumi spoke the name.

“Dream, Tōgetsu!”

Rukia was speechless.

Shikai. Her little one had attained Shikai. 

Her heart danced around in her ribcage, slowly succumbing to her emotions. The baby she had left in Yoruichi’s care for fear of banishment, had bloomed magnificently. Before Rukia even knew it, tears had begun streaming down her cheeks. She made no attempt to wipe them, knowing they’d only be replaced by more. So instead, she smiled and Katsumi smiled back.

“When did this happen?” Rukia finally managed to say.

“Last night. She was sleeping one minute, then releasing spirit pressure the next. Scary to think what she’ll be like a few years from now. You and Ichigo sure made one frightening kid.”

The old friends chuckled as Katsumi eagerly cleaved a boulder in half. 

Katsumi was strong. And still had more room to grow.

[parkeraul]

pull me in — 1

a/n: i wanted to insist on grease!shawn and if you like it, i’ll publish the other parts. not sure it’s gonna be longer than 5 chapters, but hands up: badboy!shawn ahead.  warnings: cursing, mentions of hook ups.  words: 3,7k

She doesn’t know how many hours she spent awake instead of going immediately to bed after a long day. That was typical of her to avoid resting in order to sit down in front of her mirror and brush her hair, strand by strand, to let the thick light-brown locks be correctly fixed even though no one’s going to see her in her sleep. Also, she always had this compulsive manner of rolling her bangs into that big & pink hair curler her grandmother gave to her a few years ago for her birthday — because OH-MY-GOD a lady should always be prepared to every situation, no matter the time; you HAVE to look good. Who knows if the love of your life isn’t coming for you at anytime? It’s hard to deny that her grandma does have a point and, to be honest, there’s nothing else in the world that she loves more than spending time alone to take care of herself. People at school call her preppy and it would be a lie if she said she doesn’t agree [or isn’t kinda proud of].

At the moment she feels her eyes heaving and her body giving into the softness of the blankets and mattress, the glass of her window pulls her out of her serenity with a loud bang. She huffs and turns around, thinking it’s just the rain getting thicker and shooting ice stones all over the neighbourhood.

Another loud bang.

Snapping her eyes open, she breathes deeply to keep her patience centered. Since she was a little kid, patience was never her strong characteristic and everyone who knows her barely well can confirm this. There was never a possible second option, there was never a plan B — if she wants something, she’s gonna get it and good luck to the one who dares stepping into her way, because it’s certain that it’ll be the beginning of World War III.

Just when she thinks about grabbing another pillow to cover her ear, comes one more crash with more rocks at the same time.

The sound of the thin rain outside can’t ease her nerves like it always does; the cozy bedroom and the warm temperature of her covers can’t stop her from growling furiously like an angry little puppy while she sits down on her bed to remove the hair curler and toss it away, her grandmother’s voice annoying the inside of her mind with those classic words “You never show up to a guy without at least a decent hair” and God she never knew she’d hate the sweet but shaky tone of that voice so much. Getting up on her feet after pulling away the white fluffy covers, she grabs her curtains with all the rage she’s feeling to drag it across the window. Her face is scrunched in all possible ways, the cheeks turning into a dark shade of pink while the short hairs of her bangs are trying to come down back to her forehead. Holding onto the wooden base of her window, she moves it up and finds the reason to all the crashes against the glass. “What the fuck you think you doing?” She tries to scream and be low at the same time, spitting her words through gritted teeth at Shawn down in the middle of the street, holding two rocks in each one of his hands as the raindrops slips along his leather jacket. "Open up, Lyssa,” He yells back, dropping the stones to bring his palms to the sides of his mouth like she can’t listen to him being loud enough already to wake up her family. “You know you want to!” “First of all, asshole,” Inching her body closer to the lower edge of her window, she sets her head a little bit to the outside so she won’t need to yell. “From now on, for you only, it’s Alyssa Stempford,” Shawn rolls his eyes so intensely that Alyssa can get the sight of them going to the back of his head from where she’s standing on the second roof of her house. He crosses his arms, holding back that stupid smirk she doesn’t know if she loves or hates so much. “You done?” Shawn asks sarcastically, earning a roll of eyes from her too. “Second of all,” She prompts right after, tugging a strand of her hair behind her ear. “If it depends on me, you’ll putrefy outside while the rain makes the job of melting your body little by little.” Her frantic words are making her head tilt quickly as she speaks, those charming bangs that Shawn loves so much shaking lightly as she pulls back to pin her window down again. “Alyssa—“ “Good. Night.” The window slams shut after she pronounces her words in a paused rhythm, leaving the curly-haired boy still left in the wet asphalt with his white tank top getting soaked and he’s sure he’s gonna get a cold but whatever, something about Alyssa makes him crave her even in her angriest form — it’s sure a challenge for him and the tougher it is, the more he wants.

She’s back in bed, giving no fucks about curling her bangs again while the two heavy blankets cover her body again. Would she start crying? Never in Shawn’s wildest dreams. No ma’am. He can go on and call her heartless like he did once or twice, she’ll proudly wear it out and even wait for a trophy if you may, with golden-bright letters across it saying “Alyssa Stempford, the coldest bitch in Canada. Pickering, 1958.”

She has no time to facepalm and rub her face to vanish the stress away, the knocks are back along with his smooth voice she never admitted she loves hearing.

“Lyssa!” The sound of his tone is muffled by the closed window, as the rocks keep on hitting the glass repeatedly and he starts to reach notes like he’s performing a romantic serenade for everyone to listen how fucked he is for Alyssa. “Oh, Lyssa, don’t you go breaking my poor little heart…” Seriously? She growls again, leaving her bed one more time to open her wardrobe feverishly in search of any extra pillows to cover her ear because the truth is that she doesn’t wanna fall for him and his stupid ways to compel her. She’s tired of letting him think he’s in control when he’s actually just being the fuckboy everyone told her he is. There is a sudden silence that drags her to the moments when she first saw him jumping off his huge motorcycle, catching everyone’s eyes as he released those smooth curls from the helmet and got up, fixing his outfit and running a hand through the messy locks. She’s sure her jaw was threatening to fall down like it did when he started chatting with the people surrounding him, acting like a fairytale prince towards all the girls and making the boys jealous of his intimidating posture. Alyssa was fresh new in Canada, coming from one of the various countries she’d lived in due to her father’s job but finally landing somewhere she wouldn’t struggle so much with the language or ambient. And it would be so much easier with that broad boy, handsome as ever, sun cascading over his defined features and reddening his cheeks—

“Oooooh, Lyssa! You’re tearing me apart, baby, yeah…”

She’s so nervous that she wants to laugh desperately. Her fingers are curling to the inside of her hand, red nails punishing the skin like they’re about to rip it open and she stands on her feet for the millionth time that day — dramatic addition just like classic Alyssa does — and she doesn’t care to close the wardrobe door, going straight to the front of her window to open it, hopefully, for the last time that night.

“Shut the fuck up?!”

He grins quietly, staring up at the most beautiful girl in his humble opinion.

“I just wanna be with you, ooh with you,”

“I swear to Lucifer!”

“Stop screaming, darlin’, and kiss me instead…”

“I’ll fuck the shit out of you.”

“I’ll let you do anything, babygirl…” He clears his throat, smirking devilishly and thinking about the best rhyme he can do to get her weakening. “If you let me splay you… All over my bed—“

“Shhhhh!” Alyssa hisses urgently. If her father ever listens to this, it’s a fact that both Shawn and her are going to drop dead the next morning.  “What do you want after all?” His boyish smile seems to grow more and more, remembering about those days where they were making out so passionately in his bedroom. And in the back of the school’s building. And inside the diner’s restroom. And Brian’s house at the living room. Oh, and inside his dad’s car. There was also that time after French class after everyone was gone and the teacher left to look for the keys to the classroom’s door. The couch of his basement. The library. The parking lot after Elvis Presley’s concert. The backyard under the sunlight; the field next to the lake when they went out for a picnic; the movies; the garage of her house in the middle of the night; the locker room of the hockey team—.

“You didn’t give me a chance to talk to you today,” He says, theatrically pouting and feeling his poor little heart ache. There’s not a single second away from her that doesn’t punch him in the chest. “Mm? What do you say?” “You really think I’m talking to you after what I saw on tuesday?” “I was looking forward to this,” What a cocky piece of shit. “See? You read my mind, Lyssa,” Shawn bites on his lip to hold back a laugh and spread his hand open in front of him, like he’s coming out defeated by a bigger force. “Sorry, Alyssa Stempford.”

He’s ridiculous. That’s what she thinks. How can a boy be so beautifully annoying?

“Where do you think you’re going?” Alyssa interrupts his steps towards the front door, his frame nearly disappearing under her roof. “Gonna see if you finally remembered about using your keys this time.” Shawn managed to break into her house silently sometimes, unable to stay away from her cuddles and being surprisingly successful on not getting caught by her parents, tiptoeing upstairs in a way Alyssa would never understand — considering that he loves being pretty loud when he’s next to her, just to catch her attention and make her laugh so his chest and stomach would get all of those butterflies filling him up with love. “Uh-uh,” She clicks her tongue in denial after humming. “You stay right there, you’re not coming inside.” “But Lyssa, it’s raining in here!” Shawn whines, making puppy eyes to melt her heart as the water straightens his curls, hair clinging to his forehead and face getting all wet while the rain intensifies. “Go home then,” She says as if it’s simple for him. “There’s nothing stopping you.” “But you’re my home—“ “Oh, no! Ew!” He bursts into laughs, not surprised to have this reaction from her because she does that everytime he gets way too passionate for her taste. He can’t say he doesn’t love this, because it always leads him to the perfect opportunities to tease her until she gives into his kiss and stops being such a cold-hearted girl. His cold-hearted girl. Or at least it’s what he dreams of. “Let me in or I’ll start singing again.” “Why don’t you sing to your motorcycle? Oh, better: Why don’t you give your ex-girlfriend a ride to school while you make up those silly lyrics like you did two days ago?” He can tell she’s furious by the way she avoids looking at him, sticking a finger after the other to elect the phases of that horrible episode she had to see on tuesday. “I—“ Shawn exhales, puffing the air off his lungs to his cheeks and then out of them. He’s having a hard time staring at her, the waterdrops insisting on get into his eyes as he squints his eyelids to cover his irises partly. “I can explain that!” “Good!” She widens her eyebrows, faking an excitement. “Save your words to put them into a song. The paper is sure way more interested than I am.”

And just like that, stubborn as always, she storms away to the corridor and leaves Shawn talking to the sky above his damp body.

They’re both working quickly.

She’s fast to go downstairs and find the keys to set inside the lock, twisting the cold metal until she hears the soft click while the tree next to her window is dancing from side to side slightly, Shawn’s silhouette swinging with it as he does his best climbing all the way up to jolt his middle forwards and reach the window that she’d left open with the arm that’s not holding the wood for dear life. And of course it’s not his first time doing this. If there’s something Shawn can add to his resume is the gift of being a very talented and skilled tree-climber. God knows how many times he ran away from his own house and some other houses using trees and tricks he’d been learning for good years.

On top of the tree and holding onto the wooden piece that draws the base of her window, he brings his other arm and, when he finds the perfect balance, he releases his legs from the tree to push the material down — body rising as a consequence — until he’s able to set his leg inside her bedroom and feel the floor underneath his foot, promptly bringing the rest of his limbs with him.

He’s preparing to jump out of this window as quick as he got inside through it, because he’s soaking the carpet of her bedroom but just to make sure she won’t throw him, he closes it once more and fixes his hair, hand eventually coming down to wipe the droplets from his rosy face. Hearing soft footsteps trailing the way from the beginning of the corridor to Alyssa’s room, Shawn closes the curtains and freezes in place, not sure where to hide but hoping that the darkness wouldn’t let someone recognize his figure. As if.

But he immediately identifies the pattern of her breathing.

Yes.

The fuckin’ pattern of her breathing.

He had her sighs memorized from the many times he kissed her wonderful lips until she went breathless and from the moments watched her sleep in peace curled against his body at the times he broke into her house by the window or when she lied to her parents that she’d spend the night with her best friends to be on Shawn’s bed, rolling across it with his body hovering over hers and vice-versa until the sunrise.

She’s careful to close her door discreetly, the silk-blue nightdress swinging lightly when she spins in place to face the doorknob she’s holding, pushing it slowly until it’s closed. Too concentrated, she hadn’t noticed a taller frame coming behind her back with arms open and ready to embrace her.

“Lyssa, listen,” He whispers.

And there’s the perfect recipe for disaster.

“LORD JESUS C—“ She turns around, trembling.

“No, no, no,” Shawn instantly covers her mouth, holding her waist with his other arm still whispering as lowly as possible. “Shhh, it’s me, baby, it’s just me.”

Her eyes are wide open, mouth still parted against his palm and it’s almost like he can hear her heartbeat increasing insanely. Yeah, good luck for him to get out of this alive.

“Gotta keep quiet, love—“

“Don’t call me love!” She murmurs after pushing his arm away, hating him even more for smiling and graze her with both arms like she’s not even 1% mad at him. “Get out!”

“Not before you listen to me.”

“You’re ruining my carpet, you dumbass—“

“I’ll lick it clean if you close that pretty little mouth and let me explain why I took Bea to school that day.”

“Bea?”

“Beatrice Fitzpatrick, Alyssa Stempford. Better?”

“It’s the bare minimum.”

“C’mere,” He travels his big hands to cup her pretty face, watching her frowned eyebrows and the honey bangs being moved by his breath coming out of his nose, fanning the little locks. “I want a kiss first, eh?” He licks his lips before pressing them against hers and fuck it’s so delicious to have his mouth, all wet and smooth pecking hers slowly and repetitively. They’re both humming, this simple action sending a wave of desire to both their most sensible parts already and it would be even better if Alyssa hadn’t stopped when she felt his tongue poking out to slip past her lips. “Babe, stop! You’re being unreasonable.”

“I’m being what?”

“You know that there’s no reason to be jealous of her! We broke up ages ago,” They’re both sounding squeaky through their breaths, trying not to disturb anyone else. “Come on, Aly.”

“Okay,” She mumbles, walking to sit at the end of her bed and she’s a sight for him right now. Silky legs crossed, her arms stretched at her sides and giving him a slight view of the swell of her breasts and her tempting face tilts to the side, lightening a fire under his dirtiest thoughts. “You have 5 minutes.”

“Ha! Very funny—“

“Four and fifty-nine…”

“Really, Alyssa?” He puts his hands on his waist.

“Four and fifty-eight…” She lifts an eyebrow, internally warning ‘you better start before I change my mind’ towards his confused expression. She’s unbelievable; she’s impossible.

“Stop!” Shawn whines again, laughing and crushed. Alyssa’s stubbornness is tough to deal with and after months, he still doesn’t know how to act with it. After all, she always gets him on his knees for her, his heart says he’s gotta have her. “You’re being such a brat, Ly.”

“Four and…” Each of her fingers is coming forward to touch her thumb, her mind pretending to be working on simple math. “Fifty-six?! Time’s running, Peter Raul.”

“Alright, look,” And so he knees in front of her, facing her sweet legs and moving his wet curls away from his hazel eyes. “Mrs. Fitzpatrick called me, ‘kay? Saying that her car ran out of gas and she couldn’t reach her husband at that moment to bring someone to fix that. The car wouldn’t move, you know, Lys?”

Alyssa’s face is softening, although she’s still serious and not blinking, too distracted by his loving raspy-low tone and the little scar on his rosy cheek. She keeps quiet, waiting for him to go somewhere coherent with this.

“I can’t help it, the moms love me,” Shawn shrugs, grinning like an idiot. “Anyways, she asked me to pick Bea—, Beatrice up and give her a ride otherwise she would be late for class, which she can’t be because she’s been missing lots of classes.”

“Oh, how do you know that?”

“Mrs.Fitzpatricktoldme.” Hurrying his words to make it clear he isn’t making shit up, he says as his fingers come up to touch her shins and his mouth goes forward to place a sweet kiss on her knee. “You know me! I’m such a family boy, I wouldn’t say no to a favor.”

“Mm,” She resists, ignoring the knot on her lower stomach showing up as he drags his red lips up to the beginning of her thigh. “That’s all?”

“All, Lyssa,” He shuts his eyes close, feeling the warm flesh under his mouth as he plants open mouthed smooches on her leg. “Promise ya nothing else happened, that’s just it. Don’t be mad at me, babe.”

“Great,” Alyssa says, regretting treating him so bad but still not ready to say she’s sorry. “Now pull away, you’re soaking me.”

“That’s the intention, dumbass,” He inches closer, making a trail of wet pecks up her thigh as the skin shows goosebumps and chills take over her neck. “Let me stay the night?”

“Shawn—“

“Come on! I’m being good, I told you everything.”

“It’s too risky, we—“

“I’ll be quiet! No one’s going to know I’m here.”

“Who’s being stubborn now?”

“At least I’m being rational.”

“Do you wanna stay or?”

“I do! Please, please, please, please…”

He grabs handfuls of her legs and goes over her, kissing her exposed chest all the way to her neck — sucking softly at the sensitive sides — and stops at her mouth, brushing their noses and lips together while whispering his please over and over again. She lets her middle drop down on her mattress, looking up at the ceiling while she considers all the pros and cons of letting him stay. What if her dad sees them? What if he can’t sneak out by the morning? What if her brother invades her room like he does sometimes without further warnings? What if Karen finds out he wasn’t at Brian’s and comes to reveal her parents all the things about their relationship?

“Lyssa?”

Her mind is still somewhere else, thinking about a safe way to let this happen.

“Lys?”

She could make him hide inside her wardrobe on that big space she used to keep her blankets before moving them to the basement.

“Lyssie?”

Or she could lock her door and just tell her parents she’s having one of those terrible period cramps she gets sometimes.

“Alyyyyssaaaa…”

Better! When everyone’s ready to go to the Montgomery’s annual party, she can say that she’s too busy with Biology homework.

“Ly. Ly, Ly, Ly, Ly, Lyssa, Lyly, Aly, Aly-ly-ly,”

“What?” She nearly yells.

“Watcha thinkin’? He asks in a childish tone, chin placed perfectly between her round breasts covered with light freckles from last summer days. His fingers are drawing twisted lines along her sides, threatening to come up and cup her nipples pearling through the thin fabric. Shawn never gets tired of glancing at every detail on her body, smiling like the fucked boy he is for her only.

“Promise you’re gonna be quiet?”

“A hundred percent.”

“Not gonna break into the kitchen in the middle of the night?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Won’t snore?”

“I don’t snore!” Shawn comes out high-pitched, totally offended. How would a handsome guy like Shawn snore? No way.

“That’s the spirit!” Alyssa says ironically, raising her middle a little and Shawn doesn’t inch a millimeter, face still glued to her chest. She tugs at his wet locks, bringing him closer. “Gonna take those clothes off for me?”

“Would rather having you undressing me, pretty girl.” He whispers against her lips, biting at the lower one and pulling it to himself before letting the swollen flesh spring back to its place.

“Whatever keeps you away from wetting my entire bed.”

[gumnut-logic]

The Hero (Part Eight)

Title: The Hero

 Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight

Sequel/companion piece to The Joker

Author: Gumnut

3 - 6 Dec 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Thunderbird Two, with Virgil and Gordon aboard, is hijacked and stolen. With Virgil injured, it is up to Gordon to save his brother and his ‘bird. Sequel/companion piece to ‘The Joker’. Gordon is far more than he seems.

Word count: 3298

Spoilers & warnings: Violence, WASP!Gordon, Military!Scott, whump, language.

Timeline: Sequel/companion piece to ‘The Joker’.

Author’s note: For @corbyinoz because she has written some magnificent Virgil and Gordon fics and is a great inspiration. Thank you for all your wonderful words.

It started with ‘The Joker’. I got interested in WASP!Gordon and decided to explore his side of the story. Then PLOT happened. Now I have no idea what is going on.

This one is full of plot necessities and was a pain to write. I hope to get back to the emotion and action in the next part. There may be one or two more chapters, depends on how it writes and as we have proven repeatedly that I have no control over anything. This is officially my second longest TAG fic so far :D

Unfortunately there will likely be a little delay before Chapter Nine as I have to write my TAG Secret Santa fic (which I finally have a plot for) as it has a deadline and I’m back at work in a couple of days. Thank you all so much for your patience and your wonderful support. You guys are just awesome ::hugs you all::

Many, many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for putting up with my crazy.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

“Think with your head, not your heart.”

Virgil spun where he stood, narrowly avoiding the punch Kyrano launched at him. “I’m not having any trouble with my heart right now, Kyrano. More avoiding having my head handed to me.” Another spin and the world suddenly tipped sideways as the older man caught him and threw him to the ground. All the air in his body was expelled in a giant rush.

Kyrano stood over him as he gasped at the ceiling. “You have far too much heart.”

“I am what I am and I’m not ashamed of it.”

“What if you are the weakness?”

“I don’t see it as weakness.” He was finally able to draw breath again, his lungs fighting for it. “Everyone has their place in this world.” He threw himself to his feet, rolled his shoulders and set in form best he could.

Kyrano eyed him across the practise mat. “They do. Yet you have chosen to place yourself on the front line. You do not belong there.”

“This is not a war. We save people.”

“It is a war nonetheless and you are vulnerable.”

“Then teach me to defend myself.”

The Malay was quiet a moment, his eyes assessing. He moved into form.

“Then shield your heart.”

-o-o-o-

Gordon stared at the man who had hurt his family so much over so many years. A flick of his hand and he immobilised the hoverchair and stood up. “Bela Gaat.”

The Hood smiled at him. “Gordon Tracy, my little brother’s protege.” A snort. “Aren’t you supposed to avenge him and take me down?”

Calm. He could not afford anger here.

“Aww, I don’t know, boss. He is kinda cute.”

Gordon spun to find the second guard morphing into Havoc. Her smile was just as charming as every other smile in the room.

“He isn’t worth your time, m’dear. More guppy than shark apparently.” He turned to the prisoner. “Isn’t that right, Kyrano.”

His mentor had gone completely silent, his eyes lasering holes in the bald man from the other side of the glass.

“Time to go, dear brother.”

“No!” It was like the syllable had been dragged across knives.

“Excuse me?” Something flickered in the bastard’s eyes and Kyrano visibly flinched, his expression turning to steel. “You are my greatest weapon, dear brother. I am never, ever letting you go.

Gordon connected the dots in his head, a realisation that was both a relief and a terror. Decisions cascaded and within a split second he was in form and his fist was in the Hood’s face.

Perfect teeth disintegrated and scattered across the room. A knee came up and jammed the man’s intestines into his spine. A flip of a wrist, and despite his body screaming in protest, Gordon took the curse of a man down in one fell swoop.

Knee in the man’s back, he pulled his fist back for the killing blow.

“Kill me and he dies.” It was spat out with blood and another tooth.

It caused him to hesitate just that split second.

A grapple wrapped around his waist and yanked, digging a spike into his side. He yelled as Havoc wrestled him off the prone man, flinging him across the room to collide with the wall and crumple in a heap beneath it.

The world blurred a moment.

Kyrano was standing in his cell staring at him, green eyes completely lost.

There was an explosion and the ceiling fell in.

“Your duty as his daughter was to protect him.”

“Shut it, Kyrano, I don’t need your lame ass philosophy. Give me a hand and make yourself useful.”

“Some daughters are better than others, I guess.”

“I told you to shut it.”

“Fortunately, I do not take my orders from you.”

Gordon attempted to push himself up from the floor and almost whited out from the pain. A crash of something against the door shook the wall.

Kyrano stepped out of the haze of floating concrete dust, his eyes fogged by more than grief. “I’m sorry, Mister Gordon.” Agony flickered across his expression. “So sorry.” He drew back his arm as Gordon struggled to get out of reach.

The door burst open, Tracys and GDF piling through.

Relief flickered across that fatherly face before it was stolen by something else.

A grapple whipped out of the haze and caught the man, yanking him up through the ceiling to the hovering craft above.

Gordon stared as the ship spun and shot away.

It wasn’t until John reached him, yelling for medical assistance, that he realised he had forgotten to breathe.

-o-o-o-

Shock set in.

Virgil floundered with the rest of his family as the realisation of what Kyrano was suffering sunk in and, amongst injury and hurt, they struggled to get back on their feet.

They were able to track him.

Intermittently.

Eos followed that signature as it darted across the globe, the information sent to John until it disappeared somewhere in Malaysia, interference stealing it away.

That didn’t stop the argument from starting in Gordon’s hospital room.

“I’m going home.” His brother’s words were final.

“You are injured.”

“State the obvious, Virgil. I don’t see you volunteering to stay at the hospital.”

“My injuries are older.”

“By a matter of days and you’ve had surgery.”

“You have a busted cheekbone, broken ribs and a hole in your side. How the hell do you expect to take on Kyrano in that state?”

“I have to speak to him.”

“He is going to kill you. The Hood said something about a treatment. If he is controlling Kyrano with this thing in his head, the loopholes keeping us alive are likely going to be fixed. You are no match for him Gordon.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Gordon, please.” Virgil was their last ditch effort. Scott had been dragged yelling from his brother’s hospital room. Expelled for both his own health and that of the entire floor. Doctor Harris had been spitting chips. Virgil was pretty sure she was still ranting at him for endangering himself and his brothers.

Next stop was to save the eldest.

But first Gordon. He placed his hand on his brother’s arm. “We don’t even know if that is what he will do.”

“He’ll return as soon as possible. I can guarantee it. It is what I would do. Strike while we are down and the Island is vulnerable.”

“But Scott has contacted Brains and security is being upgraded. Kayo is already there.”

That had been rather spectacular in itself. Scott hadn’t even had a chance to yell at her, she had just disappeared. John traced her to a plane hire business and then to the Island.

Virgil had had to field Scott’s rant.

His eldest brother was beside himself. There was worry on all fronts, rogue operatives only one of them. He was on comms to Brains almost every five minutes, concerned about Brains himself and Grandma who was still on the Island. Scott agreed that it was likely there would be another strike. Evacuation was not an option any brother was willing to consider, so security and defence were the only remaining strategy.

Security against one of their own security officers who could literally waltz in at any time, undetected.

Aunt Val was another worry. Her concern involved troops and gunships, but none of the brothers had any faith left and certainly did not want unknowns on their island.

Hell, the GDF had a suspect in their care and yet again, he had escaped.

Scott pleaded no confidence and to her chagrin, Aunt Val had to bow to the accusation.

Virgil had no doubt that some heads were going to roll over this. Colonel Casey had given her word and her team had been unable to deliver...again. It was not a viable recipe for a successful command. Their aunt had her own fires to put out.

Of course, with Gordon demanding to go, there was no way Alan was leaving him to face this alone. Hell, Virgil wanted to go himself, not because he felt he would be much help in any actual fight, just that Kayo should not have to face this alone either.

She needed her family with her.

Kyrano was her father and the possibility existed that this may end badly for either side.

She needed their support.

John was still Earthside and the number of profane words in other languages he had muttered in the last day made his position clear. The communications specialist was already beefing up security via Eos. The AI was a random element they had up their sleeve and could be a game changer.

So there was no way John was hiding on the mainland.

And that was what it became, a cry that they shouldn’t hide. That Tracy Island was their home and regardless of their state of health, they needed to be there.

How could Virgil deny Gordon what felt so right?

“It will be okay.” Gordon’s voice was parched.

Even now, injured and facing the unknown, his brother was still attempting to protect him.

Virgil sighed. “I want you to be okay.”

“I’ll be okay once we have him home and safe.”

Virgil’s fingers spasmed around his brother’s arm. They didn’t know if that was even possible.

Gordon must have picked up on the thought because Virgil found himself pinned by those eyes so much like his own.

“We have to try.”

He held that gaze a moment before looking away. Quiet. “I know.”

So Alan took Two in hand and they went home.

Not knowing who might already be on that Island waiting for them.

Regardless, it felt good to see the familiar peaks and the caldera as Two banked to land on her runway.

Grandma greeted them, her hug clinging to him.

And he faced another futile argument. “Please, Grandma.”

As predicted, she shook her head. “I’m not leaving the Island, Virgil, so save your breath. This is a fight for our family.”

If he hugged her harder than usual, it was for his own reassurance.

“You be careful of those ribs, young man.”

A sigh. “Not my first set of broken ribs, Grandma. I know what I’m doing.”

She caught his eyes. “Not my first fight either, Virgil.”

She wasn’t wrong.

He kissed her hair.

And clung a moment longer.

-o-o-o-

Gordon followed Virgil up to his room. Both men were holding their sides, as if in parody of each other.

The aquanaut did not feel like laughing.

Kyrano had played them and taken them all down.

He grit his teeth.

So much anger. It roiled inside him. Anger at the Hood, at Havoc, but mostly at himself.

Why hadn’t he seen it? Kyrano was right. Of all the people on this planet, they were the ones he trusted, the people who knew him the most and Gordon, despite the Hood’s sneer, was his protege, his frickin’ padawan. He knew the philosophy Kyrano held dear, he knew how the man worked.

Kyrano had trusted him with his everything.

And he had failed to see. Failed to hear his cry for help.

He sighed and Virgil turned to look at him, worry in his gaze.

“I’m fine. Do you remember where you saw it last?”

Virgil didn’t answer. Instead he opened the door to his bedroom.

It all hit them in the face.

Books lay scattered all over the floor. The desk chair on its side.

A smear of blood on the window sill.

Gordon swallowed and straightened. Virgil’s eyes tracked across the room before he shuffled over to the bed and sat down. He closed his eyes and Gordon frowned.

“Virg?”

His brother raised a hand. “Give me a minute.”

The silence was deafening.

Virgil groaned as he levered himself off the bed and staggered around the foot, lowering himself to his knees. “Ow.” But he came up a moment later a tiny object between his fingers.

“Got it.”

-o-o-o-

The Thunderduck was still in the pool restricting One from being launched.

Alan used Two’s grabs to drag it out and secure it in the hangars.

Brains crawled all over it.

Virgil tried to do the same, but Grandma hauled him off it with a glare and Scott reinforced it with an order.

That order became an argument involving abdominal surgery, stitches and who the hell had medical command.

John slammed them both down and sent them to their rooms. Literally.

Grandma backed that one up wielding a wooden spoon.

It wasn’t International Rescue’s command team’s greatest moment.

But then nothing was going particularly well, in any case.

They beefed up security. They launched drones to patrol the Island. They even deployed the storm shutters, closing the massive metal shields designed to protect the villa from the force of a category five cyclone.

They were prepared.

But nothing happened.

The signature did not reappear on any scanner, no matter the sensitivity. It was just gone.

Had they lost the one advantage they had? Was Kyrano already here? His ability to foil their sensors had long bothered Brains. The engineer had spoken to Kyrano about it, but the security specialist had never been forthcoming. Even Scott had never received an answer, but it hadn’t been a worry, it had been to their advantage because Kyrano was on their side.

Or so they thought.

Now he was a massive hole in their security and a possible death threat.

Brains was not happy.

Kayo was livid.

Their sister was a silently screaming presence on the Island. She moved like she always did, a cat slinking from room to room, but she trailed pain.

Virgil attempted to corner her, but she shook him off.

He worried.

So he hounded her.

It wasn’t a technique he would usually employ, but she wouldn’t speak to him and he knew her too well.

She was hurting so much.

It came to a head three metres from the northwest sensor array on the other side of the island.

He had followed her. He wasn’t up to a great hike, but it was her fifth lap. She hadn’t eaten all day. She was pale and far too focussed.

And he was worried.

“What the hell do you want from me, Virgil?”

He didn’t answer immediately, just stood there, arm wrapped around his side, no doubt looking pathetic.

He straightened his shoulders anyway. “I want you to give yourself a break.”

Her lips thinned to invisibility and she spun, returning to her march to the array.

He followed, if a little slower.

She was running a diagnostic of the system when he caught up. She did not acknowledge him.

“It is not your fault.”

She ignored him, but the anger flickered across her expression anyway.

He ran through a list of platitudes and reassurance, but came up empty on what else to say. He couldn’t guarantee anything, he couldn’t say everything would be all right. He had nothing.

He could only be there.

Even if it required him to follow her around the entire Island. He shifted where he stood and flinched as his ribs reminded him exactly why that was such a stupid idea.

Her motions were efficient and sharp as usual. If he hadn’t been watching her so closely, he wouldn’t have seen it.

As it was, part of him hardly believed it.

The rest of him just broke into little pieces.

A single tear leaked out of her determined eyes and he was beside her before she could wipe it away, his arms wrapping around her before he could think.

She tensed a moment, and he thought she was going to push him off, but a small sound and she fell into his embrace, her head dropping to his chest.

She didn’t shake, didn’t hug him back, her fingers lying softly on his shirt, nails fine points pressing through his clothes into his skin.

He stroked her hair.

Little more than breath. “I’m sorry, Kay.”

She mumbled something he didn’t hear properly and her arms slid around him, her grip desperate and a little painful.

He didn’t flinch.

He just held her.

-o-o-o-

The days wore on and still nothing happened.

The tension on the Island increased, tempers frayed and the underlying anxiety eroded everyone. Sure the time gave them the space to heal and regroup, but the threat hung over them like a hammer about to pound them into the ground.

And International Rescue could not stay frozen forever.

Brains examined the ‘pill’ and, to their horror, discovered it to be almost exactly the same as the one removed from Virgil’s oesophagus. Gordon watched his brother as Brains ran through the details and saw him pale.

Gordon’s simmering anger burned hotter.

Because the pill bomb had yet to encounter the stomach acid that would erode it, Brains was able to use microtools to drain it of its fuel and examine the detail of its design.

Brains worked out how it was being cloaked.

The engineer gasped out loud. The science that followed bewildered Gordon, but Virgil’s eyes widened and there was a shared moment of admiration between the two engineers.

There was something about parrying signals rather than reflecting and a metaphor involving swords. Gordon just stared at the both of them. “Yes, but where does that get us?”

Scott, standing beside him, echoed the question.

“If we know how it works, we can work out a way defeat it.” Virgil’s voice held hope. “We could find Kyrano. This has to be why he left it here.”

For a moment, Gordon’s spirits lifted just a little. It was a step in the right direction.

But then Brains’ expression fell. “Oh no.”

“What?” The word fell from Gordon’s lips unconsidered.

“The c-cloak has the s-same signature that Kyrano was carrying ar-round in his h-head.”

Gordon stared at the engineer. A blink. “You think he has one of these in his skull?” Despite himself, Gordon’s voice rose at the end of the question. Virgil’s hand landed on his arm.

This time he shook it off.

Brains straightened and turned to face Gordon head on. “I-I c-can only say that the s-signature is the s-same. A-anything else is p-pure sp-peculation.”

Gordon straightened his spine. “But it is a possibility.”

The brown eyes of their resident genius were apologetic. “A-anything is p-possible.”

Kill me and he dies.

Gordon looked away a moment. Scott shifted where he stood.

“He wanted to end this.” Virgil’s parched voice broke the sudden silence. “He tried to shove that down my throat so he could end it. He wanted to blow himself up as much as he was being driven to do the same to us. If he had a bomb in his head, don’t you think he would have found a way to set that off rather than kill all of us?”

Silence ate the question.

“The Hood said ‘Kill me and he dies’. What if it requires a trigger?”

The silence crept in again.

“This is all speculation.” Scott’s voice cut in and ended the discussion. “Brains, I want John and Eos in on this. We need to find a way to locate that signature again. We can’t sit here waiting for an attack forever. We need to find him.” A pause as his brother swallowed. “We need to save him.”

Save him.

Brains nodded and went back to his equipment.

Scott rounded on his two brothers. “We will save him.”

Virgil looked up, but his expression was neutral.

Gordon straightened. “Yes, we will.”

How was the only remaining question.

Until two days later when that signature reappeared on their sensors.

-o-o-o-

End Part Eight.

[caffeinated-mendes]

Failed Mission - Peter Parker & OC - Chapter 1

masterlist

previous work

synopsis:  Eliza Brooks, an eighteen-year-old Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and friend to Tony Stark is given a mission after Tony's death: Attend Midtown Tech and keep an eye on Peter Parker. With the use of her mysterious powers, Eliza had never slipped up on her assignment. That is until Peter's life is in danger, and she has to save him. The cost of her exposing her identity could very nearly mean the end of her mission, and the ending of her chance to become an Avenger.

word count: 2.5 k

a/n: Hi everyone :) Here's a new fic for you all with an OC of mine that I've created with the help of my friend @fallinallincurls <3 I loved Peter so much that I had to make a multi-chap fic for him! Anyway, I see this as Post Endgame, but a few months before FFH. Hope you all enjoy <3 comments likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!

warnings: none

*if you prefer, you can read this on my ao3 instead of here

“Can anyone tell me the answer to number twenty-seven?” Mrs. Codds asked, to which the class silently responded. “Anyone?” Eliza didn’t raise her hand, even though she knew the solution to the problem. Her eyes were trained on the figure in front of her. His leg was bouncing nervously in his desk, watching the clock that taunted them at the front of the room.

Eliza fiddled with her pen, waiting for someone to be called on without their asking. “Ms. Brooks?” Her eyes shot up to the board, examining the problem.

“Uh, thirty-two.” 

“That’s incorrect. Anyone else?” Mrs. Codds’ narrowed eyes found her next target, Michelle Jones.

Eliza raised her hand, but spoke without being called on, “Mrs. Codds? Isn’t it thirty-two, though? X equals fifteen, and the square root of sixteen plus y, which is thirteen, equals thirty-two.” With a bit of fright, she pushed her long hair behind her ear.

Mrs. Codds examined the board once again, “I suppose you’re right, Eliza. My mistake. Thank you.” Heads turned to her, including MJ, who mouthed ‘thanks.’ She nodded, moving her gaze back to the board.

“Everybody was so surprised that Mrs. Codds didn’t scream at you or something. She usually rages if anyone speaks out.” MJ said, clutching her book to her chest as Eliza took her bag from her locker. 

She chuckled, “I know, I was surprised too. By the way, I can’t hang out today. I’ve got work.” Eliza turned to look around, “But you could invite someone to partner with you in AcDec.”

MJ’s ears turned red, “Eli, no. It’s not gonna happen.”

“He’s cute, though! I know you like him.” Eliza grinned, pulling her navy blue backpack onto her shoulders. MJ pulled on the strings of her hoodie, shaking her head and looking at the ground. “Alright, I won’t terrorize you anymore. See you tomorrow. Oh, and don’t forget, we’re studying on Sunday.”

MJ nodded, “I won’t. See you!”

Eliza hurried her way down the halls of Midtown Tech, her black vans making squeaking sounds on the tile. Turning to look into the window of the library, she saw Peter Parker, MJ, and the rest of the team reading their textbooks. She took out her phone, and called the latest number, walking out the doors of her school. The day was a bitter, cold February day. Eliza had to pull up her hood to not shiver on the spot. “Hello?” A man’s voice answered the phone.

“Hey, Happy. Just the daily report. Peter’s fine. He’s at practice right now, so I’ll be going out later today. You know, the usual.”

“Alright. Thanks for letting me know, Eliza.” He sounded relieved, like Peter would never catch a break.

“Of course. Have a good day.”

“You too. You still coming over to Pepper’s tomorrow for dinner?”

Eliza pounded on the steps to the railway, responding, “Yep. See you.”

“Bye, Eli.”

She hung up, pushing her way into the crowded train. Eliza didn’t know how much longer she could keep the whole thing up. The whole routine of high school didn’t suit her. She longed for the days of training with her mentor. Somehow, she thought that training to be a spy was easier than being a high school student.

Perched up on the roof of a building, Eliza watched as a blue and red figure swung through the borough of Queens: the beloved Spider-Man. She had to hop rooftop to rooftop just to keep up with him. Luckily, her suit helped her jump farther, but landing always hurt. The flexible black and navy blue material let her move swiftly in the shadows, though it didn’t matter. Just one thought, and she could become invisible. She watched as Spider-Man made his way into a bank that was screaming with alarms.

Willing herself to turn invisible, she jumped down onto the steps of the bank. The best part of not being seen was people not noticing you. The worst part was having to maneuver your way through, as nobody could move out of the way for you.

Checking her surroundings, she quietly opened the door a sliver and slipped through. This was the worst part of the job. Watching Peter defeat the bad guys, and not being able to help. A woman at the counter trembled at gunpoint, a masked man clamping his hand over her mouth. Two other goons raided the available containers behind them. As if right on cue, Peter screamed, “Hey! Don’t you have other people to rob? I mean not like you should rob them-” He cut himself off, shooting a spider web to grab the gun in his hand. The action made the man angrier, but before he could do anything, Peter ran, jumping onto the counter and swinging his legs into the man’s side. He doubled over in pain, but as Peter stood over him, he didn’t see that the man’s big, beefy buddies were right behind him.

Eliza wanted to scream, tell Peter to watch out, but she knew better. She watched in horror as one of them hit Peter in the head with a bat, knocking him to the ground. Peter didn’t get up. She couldn’t stand there anymore, so she ran for the two of them, pulling a gun from her belt. Thankfully, whatever she held became invisible too, so she didn’t have to worry about people seeing a floating gun. Making two shots, she hit them both in their legs, not wanting to kill. 

Her fingers trembled. She hadn’t done anything like that for real, and hadn’t shot her gun in months. The woman at the counter shrieked. Seeing two men get shot from nowhere was justifiably scary. Eliza jumped over the counter, seeing that Peter was breathing, and conscious. It seemed like he had just woken up. Eliza didn’t think of the consequences as she hoisted Peter up, still invisible. “Whoa! Who’s pulling me?” He grabbed for her, and Eliza was too late to move, as he’d gripped her wrist. “Show yourself! He looked not in her eyes, as he couldn’t see her, but at her neck. Eliza had a couple inches on him.

Eliza knew she’d failed. She lost her grip on her invisibility, and soon she was fully visible. Peter still wouldn’t know it was her. She had a mask on, not unlike Peter’s, but it was black with three stripes of blue on each side. The eyeholes were shaped like upturned rectangles, an almost clear mesh. His spidey-eyes widened. “Eliza?”

Eliza’s breath hitched. Peter didn’t know her. She never spoke to him. Calmly, she replied, “I don’t know who you’re talking about. Let’s get out of here. The police are on their way.” She shook her hand from Peter’s grip, and started running out of the bank, Peter on her tail. They made their way into a dark alley, lit only by a flickering streetlight. 

“Are you sure you’re not Eliza? Because you sound like her too. Wait, why am I asking you that? You know who you are.” Peter caught up to her. Eliza tried to turn away, walk in the other direction, but then, Peter pulled on her mask, taking it off. Her long, blonde hair cascaded around her face. “It is you.” He didn’t say anything else. 

“How’d you know it was me, Peter?” Eliza’s heart sunk. She failed her mission. At least it meant she got to go home.

Peter almost choked, “How’d you know- I mean, I’m not Peter-” Eliza pulled Peter’s mask off to reveal his terrified face. “Uh- your eyes. They’re blue. Just not a normal blue, it’s like a weird blue. I don’t know why. When you showed up a few months ago to school, and the teacher introduced you to the class, your eyes glowed. I don’t know if everyone else saw it, but I did when you looked at me. Then they went back to normal. They glowed so bright when I grabbed your arm that it went through your mask.”

Eliza looked down. “Peter, I’m not allowed to tell you this, but I failed my mission anyway. I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you went back to school, after, well, you know-”

“Since the blip ended?”

“Yeah. Tony found me, kinda like he found you. I was fifteen, it was right after, um, Sokovia. I blipped too, so I’m only eighteen now. But it was eight years ago. When I blipped back, Fury gave me a mission. He told me that Tony intended it for me when he was gone. I’ve been reporting back to Happy, giving him updates. I follow you when you go out into the city.” Eliza looked down at her feet. 

Peter’s face looked disappointed. “Oh.”

“What?” Eliza looked back up at him. Peter played with her mask in his hands. The scene must’ve looked weird. The two of them, holding each other’s masks.

“Well, it’s just that, I thought Mr. Stark thought that I could take care of myself now.” Peter looked up at Eliza, shrugging. His brown eyes looked sad.

Eliza hung her hands, “I’m sure he did. I think he just wanted to have me make sure you were safe. In a way, I was supposed to be the big sister you never had. At least, that’s how Pepper put it.”

Peter nodded, holding out her mask. She took it, and gave him his. “I think this means my mission’s over.”

He looked away, then back at her, “Maybe we can convince Happy to let you stay. He doesn’t have to tell Fury. You could join me, the media wouldn’t know, because you can turn invisible!”

“That might work.” Eliza started to think that she wanted to stay in New York a little bit longer, “Also, I’m not just invisible. I can turn into other animals, too.”

Peter’s eyes widened, “No way! Turn into… a monkey!” He grinned expectantly.

“How about I do something a little more convenient?” Eliza laughed.

“Yeah, okay.”

Eliza felt the familiar sensation encapsulate her body. It was like your entire body was falling asleep, but intensified, as the pins-and-needles feeling grew stronger, her vision changed, and suddenly, Peter got much taller. Her suit, designed to only appear in her human form, was gone. Peter spun around.

“Where’d you go? Eliza?” Eliza scuttled up Peter’s leg, all the way to his hand. She saw him look down. “Ugh. Of course you’re a spider. Deja vu. Can you turn back now?” Eliza hopped off his hand and landed back on the ground. She envisioned herself as herself, a human, and was enclosed in the prickly feeling again. She flexed her fingers, looking back at Peter.

Eliza grinned, “Uh, weird question, but out of all the situations I might’ve had to save you from, how’d you let it be a bank heist?”It seemed too easy for him. Peter didn’t fail like that. Eliza knew that he’d been in much higher-stake situations. 

As if reading her mind, Peter replied with a red tint to his face, “I have a fifth sense, it’s kinda like I can feel what's going on around me. Stupid to say after I didn’t realize two guys were behind me with a bat, but you were distracting me, I think. I didn’t know it was you at the time, of course, but I felt this weird power. It pounded through the room, and it distracted me.”

“I guess you can sense me, too. Have you felt it this whole time?” Eliza lifted her hair into a makeshift ponytail, and put her mask over her head. Peter put his on, too.

Peter shrugged, “Well, sort of. Just not that strong. I had a feeling like someone had their eyes on me everywhere I went in the city.” Eliza nodded. 

“Well, if I get sent back home, I’d like to make this a night to remember. Wanna fight crime as a team?” Eliza laughed.

Peter shook his head, “We’ll ask Happy to let you stay. I know it’ll work. But sure, let’s do it!” Eliza took this as a cue to change, morphing her body into a creature that could jump easily from building to building.

Looking down at her now, Peter’s spidey-eyes widened, “A monkey! Sweet!”

“Hey, Penis Parker! Did your face always look that stupid?” Flash taunted from behind Peter and Eliza. Peter pushed his face further into his locker, biting his lip.

Eliza, on the other hand, was not the quiet type. “Flash, why don’t you quit taunting Peter so you don’t have to keep hiding your insecurities? I think it’d be a better look on you.” Kids laughed and turned to face her from their lockers, watching as Flash choked on his words. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Eliza slammed Peter’s locker for dramatic effect, making him jump.  “Let’s go, Peter. The trash in here stinks.” This was responded by a chorus of laughter from their classmates. Peter pushed his way through to catch up to Eliza, hiding a smile. Flash was left sputtering behind them.

“That was amazing, but you didn’t need to do that. You know I’m not supposed to draw attention.” Peter shouldered his bag as they climbed up the staircase. Last night, the two of them bonded pretty well, beating up thieves and returning stolen items. It felt like Eliza had already known Peter forever. It was a shame she couldn’t stay with him much longer. She was going to tell Happy tonight, at dinner with Pepper and Morgan. 

Eliza shrugged, “It’s not like anyone is gonna suspect me of anything.” Eliza’s phone buzzed. It was MJ, asking if she was coming to class. Eliza responded, Yep, I just finished telling Flash off to the entire hallway. She pushed her phone in her back pocket, “Sorry, that was MJ.”

“MJ? I didn’t know you were friends with her, she’s really cool.” Peter said this in a high pitched voice, looking at Eliza and then in front of him.

“Isn’t the AcDec team going on a Europe trip this summer?”

Peter cleared his throat, his voice a little deeper this time, “Yeah, I’m hoping I’ll be able to actually relax on that trip.”

“That’s understandable. I mean,” Eliza lowered her voice, “I’m not really an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., but I still kinda get it.”

Peter smiled, his voice hushed too, “I have a feeling you’re gonna be more than an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. Maybe an Avenger. I mean, we’re kinda down on members.” He looked towards their history class with glassy eyes.

“Thanks for the encouragement.”

“Remember, I’m not letting you leave yet.” With that, Peter walked into their class and found his seat, turning his attention to the girl in front of him. Eliza smirked. It was only obvious that Peter liked her. Ah, to be oblivious to shared love!

Eliza found her seat on the opposite side of the classroom. She looked up at the board, and her heart sank. In big messy handwriting at the top of the chalkboard was written The Sokovia Accords. Eliza put her head down on her desk, and closed her eyes. A voice went through her head, a familiar ghost of her past. It’s okay. Breathe in. Hold it. Breathe out. Breathe in. Hold it. 

Breathe out.

[shittyfandomimagines]

We Lost Us (5)

Next chapter is probably the last

Word count: 1,366

This one gave me feels

GIF creds to owner

Week later

“So this is your new room.” Shawn lead me down a hall and I ended up at his music room.

“Shawn, this is your music room.” We stopped outside the door and he grinned a little.

“No, I moved that into my guest room and put the guest room in here. I know you’re sore and that you don’t need to make many trips on the stairs, so here we are.” He opens the door and it literally looked like he just transferred everything here.

“You didn’t have to do this for me, you shouldn’t be doing any of this for me at all.” I felt my heart warm a little when he put his hand at the small of my back so he could guide me into the room.

“I owe you more apologies than this act of ‘generosity’ can cover.” He puts my bags down on the dresser. “Yeah but I had faults too, I need to make it up to you somehow.” I plead and he shakes his head, pulling the covers back to let me sit down.

“You being able to heal is enough of an apology for me, I want to restart everything and do the things we used to.”

I smile up at him as he tucked me in like a little kid. I knew it wasn’t ever going to be the same because I loved him more than I did before, regardless of the pain and lies. I loved him because he was there to help me regardless of how much I had pushed him away because of his toxic ex-girlfriend.

“Well, I will allow that, if you lay with me and watch Arrow with me.” I use my puppy dog face and he groans loudly. “Wow, that is just too much to ask.” He slouches slightly before walking around the bed to get in with me. He connected the tv to Netflix and set it up, he put his arm around me softly.

I hadn’t felt this comfortable in a while, being able to lay against him as his curly hair tickled me softly and his hands rubbing my side gently. “I’m so glad they put out season 7 on Netflix.” He mumbled as he situated himself more.

We laid there for a while before my eyes grew heavy, the painkillers they gave me started to work. I had no idea I could feel so exhausted over something I slept the most time away.

Shawn could tell I was becoming loopy so he turned off the show and shifted to where he was cradling me. “Go ahead and sleep, they say when you’re asleep, you’re healing. I’ll be here for you.” He whispers as he brushed out my hair softly, my heart so warm and my stomach full of butterflies.

——

I woke up with a pain in my side, it felt like a cramp but nothing concerning. It was probably from where the seatbelt cut into my hip, it hadn’t really given me pain beforehand.

When I decided to sit up, the bed was cold and empty beside me, Shawn was nowhere to be seen.

But the bags that were on the dresser were gone and the closet door was open, I saw most of my clothes on hangers and my shoes filed in a line.

I would’ve laughed if he only filed the left shoes up because of the boot that is temporarily taking over my right foot, but he didn’t because he’s not as funny as I am.

Thinking of the boot, I remembered to slip it on before I stepped out of bed, I’m glad Shawn must have taken it off when I had first fallen asleep because I don’t recall doing it.

I hobbled my way into the living room in search of my best friend but he wasn’t there, so I made my way to the kitchen to see him sitting on top of the counter.

He had tears in his eyes and he was stirring something inside the pan so sadly, my heart hurt so bad and I was hobbling faster like Mad-Eye from Harry Potter.

“What’s wrong?” My voice was laced with concern as I stood in front of him, my voice caught him by surprise because he straightened up real quick.

“It’s nothing, I swear,” He was wiping his tears off rapidly while trying to act like everything was okay. “Shawn, just tell me okay? No more secrets.” I grab his hand and he broke down in tears.

I held him as he sobbed into my shoulder, his lanky body overpowered my tiny figure, I felt bad because I couldn’t hold him up any longer due to the soreness, I pushed him off carefully.

“Sorry! Sorry! I’m probably hurting you.” He was frantic and I just squeeze his hands to let him know I’m okay.

“Shawn, please talk to me and maybe turn off the stove because it’s boiling,” I whispered the last part and he was making so many frantic movements.

“I was making us supper and it’s our favorite meal, mac n cheese and chicken nuggets because I can’t cook to save my life. Then, I just had all these thoughts about how fast I could’ve lost you and it hit me so quick, I’m so sorry for everything and I don’t want to lose you, I’m still so scared.” He was sobbing once again and I leaned my weight into him, giving him the biggest hug as tears fell from my eyes too.

“I know it was sudden and I kinda made it worse by avoiding you, but we have to stop apologizing to each other. We have our friendship back and we can eat as much Mac n cheese as we want. You’re not losing me at any point in your life. I’m permanently here and I’m kinda like a disease now.” I shrug my shoulders once we pulled away.

He stared into my eyes as his tears were still slowly cascading down his eyes, I wiped them off with the sleeve of my shirt. “I know that now, but I guess I never had time to process and it hit me. I’m just so glad we’re okay.” He kisses my forehead and I nodded.

I turn the stove back on for him and check the oven to look at the nuggets, which were done, so I proceeded to take them out. “Hey, I’m supposed to be taking care of you, sit down.” He swatted at me gently and I sighed, knowing he wouldn’t give it up and made my way to the counter. “Can ya give me a boost?” I ask and he lifts me up swiftly. My heart almost shit itself at our close proximity.

“Why are you up anyway?” He asks while still being way too close, his breath fawning over my nose and lips. “I was having some side pain from my seatbelt but it stopped hurting when I walked around some,” I explain while squishing his cheeks in my fingers.

“Do you need some Tylenol?” He asks and I shake my head. “I don’t think so, not right now.” I smiled at his generosity, he nodded slowly.

“Thanks for getting my clothes up, I could’ve done it myself,” I announce and he still had his famous smile. “But I didn’t mind, I knew it would be easier if I did it anyway. Plus, you looked so peaceful and I couldn’t sleep, so it gave me something to do.” He shrugs some.

It stayed silent as he was still so close, I had the knots in my stomach just from him being closer than normal. He started to lean in slowly, my heart was beating 100 miles per minute. Then the sizzling sound of water hitting the stove took us out of our trance.

We look over to the stove that had water toppling over the pan, he cursed under his breath as he moved the pan quickly and turned the stove off.

“Now I know why you always cooked food babe, I can’t even boil noodles.” He smirked over towards me, babe...

“Yeah, no wonder.”

Well fuck.