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biggest-stupidhead · 4 years ago

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Never Ready

Summary: “It’s not like I’m ready to take her in.”

“And I was ready for you? Kid, nobody is ever ready for things like this. That doesn’t mean they don’t happen.” Levi is faced with the difficult decision of taking in his newly orphaned cousin. But he can't do it alone.You're a newly graduated college student looking to make some extra cash, but get more than you originally bargained for...

Word Count: 2.3K

The day had started just like any other day. He woke up early and worked out before making himself a small breakfast of tea and an English muffin with some jam. Then he got dressed for work in one of his perfectly tailored suits. His routine was flawless, perfected over many years to allow him to seamlessly slip from one task into the next. He arrived one full hour before work actually began so that he could organize his desk and get a jump on the day’s cleaning. He liked working in a clean environment, if this step was missed (or really any of them for that matter), his entire day was thrown off.

And today was one of those days. About four minutes before the office officially opened, Levi got a phone call. He had the phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder as he finished wiping down his desk with a clorox wipe.

“We regretfully inform you that your cousin and his wife were involved in an armed robbery.”

He froze at this, his eyes narrowing as the woman waited for his response.

“What was stolen?” He asked before continuing to wipe down the surface.

“Sir…” The woman spoke slowly and Levi began to lose his patience.

“Listen, I appreciate the phone call but quite honestly I don’t have time for this.” He said bitterly as he disposed of the wipe.

“This is very important sir, your cousin, and his wife were both murdered in the process.” The woman informed him and his blood ran cold. Although he had never been close with his extended family, the news was still tragic.

“I see,” Levi grumbled as a boulder seemed to settle in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m calling regarding their daughter, Mikasa. Seeing that Mr. Ackerman was an only child, as was Mrs. Ackerman, and their parents have passed, you and your uncle are her next of kin.” The woman continued as Levi sank into his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What do we need to do?” Levi sighed as he closed his eyes, waiting patiently for her response.

“You have a few options, either of you could gain full parental rights to her, or she will become a ward of the state.” Some shuffling could be heard on her end of the line and Levi felt his heart rate spike. For a time in his own life, he had been thrown into the system, that was until his own uncle had gained custody after sobering up.

“I understand,” Levi grumbled, watching as his coworkers set about their daily business as he was dealing with this unforeseen issue.

“The decision doesn’t need to be made immediately of course. I strongly encourage that the two of you discuss this at length. The funeral is this Thursday, Mikasa and myself will be there and we can talk in greater depth then.” The sound of a keyboard clacking filled the short silence as he considered what an appropriate response would be.

“I’ll...get back to you.” He leaned forward in his seat and clicked on his calendar, crossing out the lengthy list of tasks and replacing it with, FUNERAL.

“Thank you, and sorry for your loss.” He hung up the phone and reclined back into his seat. This was quite possibly the biggest disruption he would ever face in his life. He hated that his cousin and his shitty wife had left this burden to rest on his shoulders. But upon further thought, his own mother had done the same thing to his uncle. You know what they say: history repeats itself.

It seemed that as soon as he had set the phone down, it rang. His uncle’s contact lit up his screen and he let it ring three times before picking it up.

“Did ya hear?” Kenny’s deep voice crackled over his speaker and Levi grunted.

“Yeah, just got off of the phone with the social worker,” Levi informed him and Kenny hummed deeply.

“What do you think?” He pressed and Levi felt his annoyance increase by tenfold.

“I think that it’s a load of shit. And you?” Levi asked as he crossed his legs under his desk.

“Same here.” Kenny agreed.

“It’s not ideal, but we can’t let her go into foster care,” Kenny grumbled and Levi hummed his agreement. Kenny was right, even if she was distantly related, Mikasa was still a part of their family.

“So are you going to take custody then?” Levi scoffed, knowing damn well that Kenny was pushing fifty and had a chronic case of bad arthritis.

“Hell no, I’ve done my part by raising you.” Kenny laughed bitterly and Levi’s expression soured.

“It’s not like I’m ready to take her in.” Levi countered and Kenny let out another bark of laughter.

“And I was ready for you? Kid, nobody is ever ready for things like this. That doesn’t mean they don’t happen.” Kenny chuckled mirthfully as Levi shifted in his seat. He knew that Kenny was right, and he knew from the moment that the social worker had said that Mikasa needed someone, that it would be him taking her.

“I’ll need to get a bigger place then.” Levi sighed his fingers rubbing tight circles over his temple as he thought of his bachelor-sized apartment.

“Damn straight.” Kenny chuckled as Levi shot a look at the clock, it was nearly twenty minutes into the workday already.

“Look, I’m at work. I’ll talk to you on Thursday at the funeral.”

“See you then.” Kenny hung up and Levi let out a long exhale. His week was off to a terrible start.

In movies, funerals are usually held in dreary weather. But today was almost too beautiful for a funeral. It was late January and the ground was covered in a thick blanket of sparkling snow. As the coffins were lowered into the two holes the social worker held Mikasa on her hip. She was only four, and there was no way that she could fully grasp what had happened. Levi stood with his hands shoved deep inside of his pockets.

Kenny stood off to his left, a large distance between the two of them. There couldn’t have been more than seven people here, Levi assumed that they were friends of the family. The other attendees came up to him before and gave their condolences to Levi and Kenny, who both said nothing in return. The service was quick, Levi and Kenny had opted out of paying more than what the state offered. In Kenny’s own words, “Dead is dead, no fancy funeral is going to help them now.”

To some, it may seem heartless, but it was the way that the family coped with death. Once the funeral was over, Kenny and Levi joined the service worker to get a cup of coffee in a nearby cafe. She had passed Mikasa off to a brunette woman before leaving the cemetery. Levi assumed that she was the foster woman that they had placed her with, or possibly a family friend.

“So, I understand that you wish to gain custody?” Michelle was a middle-aged woman with graying hair and prominent wrinkles on her forehead. As she flipped through files that were spread across the table Levi nodded as he sipped his tea.

“That’s correct,” Levi affirmed and she nodded before spinning the paperwork so that he could read the form.

“I’m sure that you understand that this is no small commitment.” She spoke as she passed him a pen. He scoffed and began initialing and signing where necessary.

“Of course,” Levi grunted before flipping the page.

“Before you can gain full custody, the state will need to see some changes in your lifestyle, for starters, you’ll need to move within her current school district and continue to hold a steady job.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Levi mumbled, pausing to read the paper before signing.

“Excellent, once these needs are met, she can be placed under your care,” Michelle informed as Levi skimmed over the page.

“Anything else?” Levi asked as he signed the last form presented to him.

“Not at this time, I’m sure that you’re well versed in most of our policies, seeing that the two of you went through a similar process.” Michelle continued as she neatly returned the papers to their folder.

“Yes.” Levi agreed as he brought his cup back to his lips. Kenny had been silent for most of the exchange. If Levi was being honest, he was relieved to have him there, even if he wasn’t contributing.

“Great, we’ll be in touch then.” Michelle smiled tensely before excusing herself, leaving Kenny and Levi alone at the table. Kenny finished his coffee and stood up, stretching with a loud groan.

“Well, I’m off to the office,” Kenny said with a short wave behind his shoulder. Levi watched him go, feeling a strange sense of dread settle into his gut. It all felt so surreal, even if he was thirty and most of his peers were already parents themselves, he still felt unprepared. It was just like Kenny had said, nothing could prepare him to take on this role. That didn’t mean that it wasn’t his to take, and he would be damned if he let Mikasa get thrown into the foster care system.

Levi set to work on finding a house in the district that the social worker had given him. He had never been a fan of suburbs, but at this time it was all that he could afford. So he found a decent house with four bedrooms, one for himself, one for Mikasa one for guests, and a final for a study. He was lucky enough to have a decent job, and a respectable grasp on his finances, it took him a week to finalize the buy, but in the end, he was glad that he did.

He had been meaning to get out of his stuffy apartment anyway, (or so he reasoned with himself), he moved his belongings out of his downtown apartment in less than a week. Once the house was effectively moved into, he then began the tedious process of preparing Mikasa’s things. He started by doing research on what four-year-olds needed and then set about buying the necessities. He felt out of place as he shopped through Target in the little girl’s section, buying bedding and such. But he got the job done, he knew that she had to have some clothes, and decided that he’d cross that bridge when he got there.

It was the night before Michelle was scheduled to visit, and Levi had invited Hange over for a drink. Hange had nosed around for about an hour, acquainting herself with Levi’s new space and gushing when she saw the modest room that he had prepared for Mikasa.

“I can’t believe that you’re actually going through with this!” Hange cooed as she sat on the small bed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked defensively as he propped himself on the doorframe. Honestly, he had been avoiding this room, it felt that if he acknowledged the space, the heavier the weight of the situation crushed his chest.

“I just...never thought that you liked kids. But I’m really proud of you.” Hange beamed as she smoothed out the pink comforter as she stood.

“What made you think that I didn’t like kids?” He scoffed as the pair left the room, he closed the door quietly behind them as they made their way into the kitchen.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe I just made the assumption based on your obsession with cleanliness.” Hange waved her hand dismissively and Levi clicked his tongue as he poured two glasses of wine.

“They are filthy.” Levi agreed as he brought the glass of red wine to his lips.

“What’s she like?” Hange asked, wrapping her own fingers around her glass as she eagerly awaited his response.

“....I haven’t met her.” Levi felt a wave of panic crash over his chest as Hange’s eyes widened.

“Never?” Hange couldn’t hide her astonishment.

“Never,” Levi said with a roll of his eyes.

“You’re serious?” Hange pressed and Levi glared at her.

“Do I ever joke about these things?” Levi snapped and she held her hands up in defeat.

“I’m just surprised is all,” Hange mumbled before taking a long sip of her wine.

“I wasn’t close with her parents,” Levi explained as he put the cork back on the bottle.

“Well...maybe you should take some extra time off of work,” Hange suggested and Levi sighed deeply.

“I can’t, I’ve already taken off more than I planned.” Levi sat on the barstool next to Hange and she swiveled to face him, their knees knocking against each other.

“But this is not something that you take lightly Levi. She’s a four-year-old girl who lost both of her parents. She’s going to need a lot of attention.” Hange looked concerned and Levi’s expression soured.

“I understand that, but my job is-”

“Is not your priority anymore. Have you thought about what you’re going to do for childcare yet? She’s too young for school. Or at least not full days.” Hange interrupted.

“So I’ll put her in daycare, or preschool.” Levi shrugged and Hange pursed her lips.

“That could work, but don’t you usually stay late at the office?” Hange pressed and Levi chewed on the inside of his cheek guiltily.

“Maybe you should consider getting a nanny. Plenty of my student’s nanny, I could give you some good recommendations.” She offered before lifting her glass to her lips.

“Maybe…” Levi suddenly felt way in over his head, if all went well in the morning, then Mikasa would be sent his way in nearly a week.

“I’ll ask around on Monday,” Hange said, reaching out to pat his shoulder. For once, he didn’t shy away.

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fragilevixenfic · 4 years ago

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My AO3 Fanfiction Links (Current)

“I’ve never really thought about making a “Master List” of my own work but I figured, now is the time to do so. If any of the links are incorrect just let me know. I fix.

Adding in a “keep reading” tab because the list is starting to get long and intense.

Each fic is categorized and easily referenced. I’ll update as I go.

X Files

Series

Into The Shadows

XII (COMPLETE): A serial killer targets victims and leaves behind symbols of his affection -- but who is his intended target and what will it take to discover the truth? (This has a lot of trigger warnings)

Dance In The Dark (ONGOING Chapters 12/? Posted **UPDATED): With the continuing murder trial of Miles, Mulder, Scully, and Max are confronted by the VCU with a case that seems to be mimicking the pattern by their, now infamous, psychopath on trial.

Echoes and Whispers

Parallel (COMPLETE): The aftermath of the three little words that Mulder says to Scully in his hospital bed after being rescued from the Queen Anne as it re-appeared in the Bermuda Triangle...and the strange connection that Scully starts to feel to a memory that Scully couldn't possibly have.

Only The Night (ONGOING): Mulder and Scully begin their undercover assignment as an engaged couple with the assistance of Skinner at the University of Maryland to catch a serial rapist, putting their newly formed physical bond to the test in this sequel to “Parallel”.

Casefics

Falling Away (COMPLETE): Kersh’s assignment partially splits the team as Scully goes undercover under the watchful eye of Mulder as they both assist on an operation with SWAT and FBI personnel. (A gift for Greta)

Veritas se revēlet (COMPLETE): (The title is roughly translated to let the truth be revealed in Latin) An impromptu wild goose chase leads Mulder and Scully to the drifts of a winter-locked Tonopah, Nevada—where a little more than the embodiment of Mulder’s imagination takes shape between the walls of the Mizpah Hotel in the dead of winter. (A gift for @monikafilefan)

She Walks at Night (COMPLETE): Mulder’s knack for getting himself and Scully into sticky situations leads them to the heart of NOLA at the tail end of Hurricane season after barely surviving a Floridian storm—to investigate a rumor of a notable Voodoo Queen and missing girls trying to bring her back. (A gift for @starbuck09256)

Intrigues in the Dark (COMPLETE): A string of suicides leads Mulder and Scully to a sleepy, coastal town in Oregon for the second time—on their return to The X File—as tensions run high and nothing is as it seems. (A gift for @admiralty-xfd)

By Light, Unseen (COMPLETE): A series of re-opened cold case murders with one link…they’d been drained of every drop of blood and wore the same, haunting stare toward the sky with their lips aghast as if they were still screaming. (A gift for @serahsanguine)

Post-Series

A House is Not a Home (COMPLETE): The mere thought of raising a newborn in a world full of horrors has every part of Scully’s emotional irrationality over firing on a chilly, winter evening. Mulder wants nothing more than to show her that not everything is gray and grim. (for @danceswithcybermen)

Remember the Reason (COMPLETE): Post Series (Part 1 of the “Little Redhead Series”). Mulder and Scully already knew that life with a newborn would be difficult but the first Christmas with their two-month-old daughter throws every curveball…some worse than others, some more humorous. (For @underworldobsessed)

Confectioners Sugar & Snow Drifts (COMPLETE): Post Series (Part 2 of the “Little Redhead Series”). Mulder spends the morning bonding with Eliana by having a Christmas baking session while Scully is out shopping for gifts. Messes, mayhem, and a healthy dose of laughter ensue. No moment is ever dull as the snow falls outside.

The Easter Bunny was a Fox (COMPLETE): Post Series (Part 3 of the “Little Redhead” Series). Scully has to pick up Bill, Tara, and a couple of surprise family from the airport, leaving Mulder alone with their 6-year-old daughter, Eliana, on Easter Morning. All she has for him are curiosities as Easter’s non-Christian ideology unfolds before her eyes…creating the most unique bonding opportunity for a father and his daughter. (For Flicked_Switch)

Angst/UST/RST

Caught in the Rain (COMPLETE): A dark, rainy night leads Mulder and Scully to a hole in the wall bar where glasses of Scotch and unresolved tension is re-visited.

Or We Can Burn (COMPLETE): Post Never Again - expansion and continuation of the aftermath surrounding what Scully has been hiding from Mulder.

It Lingers (COMPLETE): The aftermath of trauma and the lingering effects of Mulder’s risky attempt to recover the truth about Samantha’s abduction leads to a revelation from Scully about her own coping mechanisms and flashes into a past she doesn’t fully remember...and the path to which they lead thereafter. (For @red2007)

Fluff/Humor

Nervous Laughter (COMPLETE): It’s been two full days since their tender, albeit brief, moment at the stroke of midnight and Mulder decides to be brave and methodical by inviting Scully over for a little movie and popcorn night for a film that has stayed locked in his mind as her favorite—The Exorcist. (This is a gift for @rationalcashew)

Lamplight & Shooting Stars (COMPLETE): It’s Spring-time in DC and spontaneous, mutually taken vacation time has become a personal mission of Mulder’s to surprise Scully with so much more than an escape from their norm—and the unseasonable, uncomfortable city heat. (For @underworldobsessed)

Into the Nightlife (ONGOING): A little paid vacation time never hurt anyone, right? (Not giving anything away this time)

Smut

Insomniac (COMPLETE): Another lonely, sleepless night, another dingy motel, and another town that isn’t home for Mulder…but, something changed, with the last gasp of the air conditioner as his partner, and best friend, chooses to walk through the adjoining door. (Expanded writing exercise)

Vultus in Speculo (COMPLETE): The last of the paperwork on the Strickland case has been finalized and filed and Scully goes off for a drink at a known FBI watering hole. Mulder is invited but doesn’t show up until after Scully is halfway through a drink—giving him an opening to inquire about a whole lot more than her flirtations with the Sheriff in the booth of a rooftop bar. (written for @msrheadcanon

Phosphorescence (COMPLETE): Still reeling from their experience in North Carolina, Mulder and Scully take a much-needed excursion to the coast of Oregon, where a flicker of light becomes more than a curiosity in the middle of the night. (Written for @anniexami)

The Darker Side of Love (COMPLETE): Mulder does not want to talk but he does not want Scully to leave, either. (This is for the MSR fanzine vol 3)

Ficlets/Drabbles/Short Prompt Collection

Affirmations and Protestations: “Fluff and Angst” Prompts (ONGOING):

Chapter 1 - "You Weren't Supposed to Hear That" - prompt #5, 61, 77

Chapter 2 - "Shout!" - prompt #19, 61 (From Valerie)

Chapter 3 - "Litost" - prompt #1, 85, 97 (From Monika)

Chapter 4 - "Ad Infinitum" - prompt #42 (From Minuete)

Chapter 5 - "Brick" - prompt - After Scully calls Mulder in the ep Emily, she asks him to bring her some things from home. Her journal falls to the floor and Mulder sees some things written about him that she has never allowed him to know. (from Monika)

Chapter 6 - "I'd rather be oblivious" - prompt #46 (from Annie)

Criminal Minds

Angst/UST/RST

Dulce Periculum (COMPLETE): Maxine and Spencer have continued seeing each other, in spite of the interference brought to the surface by Cat Adams. Spencer continues to work closely with the BAU after it nearly dismantled, with signature members scattering to the winds, leaving behind only a few, including himself, to keep working on their caseload. After a long, intense case, Spencer returns home to a little more than a can of worms. (A gift for an anonymous prompter)

Law & Order: Special Victims Unit

Angst/UST/RST

Chasing your Silhouette (COMPLETE): They’d learned each other’s quirks and intricacies on the job—but when did it become over the line? When did physicality become a detriment to them once they’ve taken off their shields? When did they realize the line in the sand no longer existed? (This is meant to take place a couple weeks after “Zebras” – had to assume a timeline, I don’t remember actual dates)

Paternity Redux - Time Just Stopped (COMPLETE): Her strength has always been immeasurable—but sometimes, something has to give and a string breaks. Nothing will ever be the same.“I’m trying my best, that is enough.” - UnknownThis is part of a challenge, to right a series of wrongs in an episode that has perpetrated many a discussion of “What Could Have Been”. WriterKC, Liv.Einziger, JustAnotherBookWorm78, MrsWellRested, EORocks, AlexisDawn, ChriskaPeach, and I have stepped up to the plate to do just that.

Oblivion (ONGOING 9/? Chapters posted ***UPDATED***): The undercover operation in Oregon takes an unexpected, unpleasant turn for Olivia Benson as an injury turns her life, and career, upside-down leaving her with pieces of her memory scattered in the wind.

Humor

Unlock the Door (TENTATIVELY COMPLETE 2/2): Olivia returns home from a celebratory series of shots with Kim Greylek and lets Elliot Stabler hear a little more than she ever intended to in the aftermath.

Series

Polaroids and Promises (COMPLETE): The Special Victims Unit has undergone an enormous amount of changes in the past six months, to the point that they are drastically undermanned—until a transfer from the 13th precinct brings new life, and a little chaos, to the team. Will her addition prove to be a permanent shift or a flash in the pan?

Discarded Dignity (COMPLETE): Elora continues to gain much-needed confidence as a member of the Special Victims Unit but an arrival booked for trespassing, assaulting an officer, and disorderly throws her progress into chaos as her past jumps to the surface. Will she be able to look beyond the misstep to solve one of the most convoluted cases she’s faced?

Contract Corruption (ONGOING 10/?): Dickie Stabler and Justin Andrisani are in over their heads--and the members of SVU and the Organized Crime task force must come together in order to set things right.

Law & Order: Special Victims Unit/Organized Crime Crossover

Series

Words of love, words of lies, words of loss

Age of Regret (COMPLETE): Elliot Stabler has never been good with words but ten years and a double on the rocks in a lonely room will make a man pour his heart out…in any way that he can.

Infidelis (COMPLETE): Elliot had been haunted by too many ghosts; expectations, fantasies, and a promise that he knew should never be kept. It was time to lay them all to rest. “I do not regret you…I regret what you did to me.” - Unknown

#My fics #X Files #Criminal Minds #this is ongoing #someday soon #this will have SVU on it #all the fics #Law and Order: Special Victims Unit #yes I have more #no they are not all done #I'm a little crazy #Organized Crime #crossover

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albertasunrise · 4 years ago

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Mistakes - Chapter 4

Masterlist

You’d known it was a bad idea to get involved with Javier Peña. You were just another notch on his bedpost but you were a notch he kept revisiting. You know you should have stopped it, declined his offers to rock your world but you couldn’t and now you had to deal with the consequences. Consequences that you knew he would refuse to accept.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Sex

Pairings: Javier Peña x Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Javier had been back at work for almost two weeks.

Neither of you had spoken about that night since it had happened. Clearly, his memories returning to him had been fairly traumatic as he then struggled to know how to be around you after that. You hadn’t kissed again. You'd barely spoken. You just cohabited and you were finding it too difficult. So that's why you had come to the decision that you had.

Chucho had returned to Texas after Javier had started back at work and you had found yourself on Steve and Connie’s couch more and more, crying into one of their shoulders as you lost all hope that Javier would return to you.

You had hoped that the kiss and him, somewhat, remembering you would have helped move things forward but all it had done was make things worse and so after two weeks of silent suffering, watching him battle with his internal demons you’d decided that enough was enough. So you found yourself sitting on his couch, Alicia at the Murphy’s. You needed to be able to have a quick exit after you told him what you were about to.

Javier’s key turning in the lock grabbed your attention and after taking a few steadying breaths you stood from your seat and turned so that you were facing him as he entered, catching his eye as he looked up from throwing his coat and keys on the table.

‘Everything okay?’ He asked after a few moments, noting your nervous demeanour ‘Where’s Alicia?’

‘With Connie and Steve.’ You stated as you rubbed your sweaty palms on the front of your jeans.

‘Why?’

‘Because I need to speak with you and I didn’t want there to be any interruptions.’ You answered, your gaze never leaving him as he moved through his home, grabbings a beer from the fridge and offering you one which you refuse.

‘What do you want to talk about?’ He asked casually. If he was nervous about what you were about to say he didn’t show it.

‘I’m moving out.’ You got straight to the point and he stopped dead in his tracks, attention now on you fully.

‘What?’

‘I can’t do this anymore Javier.’ You declared, trying hard to keep your voice from wobbling ‘I can’t keep pretending that I am okay with all of this’ You continued as you signalled your hand around ‘I can’t stay here and endure the hurt of waiting for the man I love to come back to me. I thought that night that we were making progress but then you remembered a few things and now we’re back to you being closed off and distant with me.’ You paused, scrubbing a shaky hand over your face to wipe away your traitorous tears ‘So I’m done. I put in a request for a larger apartment a few days ago and it was granted.’

‘Wait so where are you moving to?’ He questioned, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

‘To a building a little closer to the embassy.’ You explained and he shook his head, anger now bubbling beneath the surface.

‘No, you can’t do this.’ He growled ‘You can’t leave. You can’t take her from me.’

‘I’m not taking her from you, Javier.’ You snapped ‘You will still be able to see her but I need to do what's best for me or I’m going to suffocate.’

‘I just need time-’

‘I’ve given you nothing but time Javi.’ You sobbed ‘Almost 3 months of it! But it’s clear to me that you regaining any memory of me is not your priority and so I need to remove myself from all this…’ You paused as you looked him dead in the eye ‘From you.’

‘Come on wait.’ He pleaded ‘Let's at least talk about this. I don’t want you to leave.’

‘Well, it doesn't feel like you want me here all the much either Javier so…’

‘When are you moving?’

‘I already have!’ You declare and his eyes grew wide before he sprinted to the nursery, noting that it's empty ‘The embassy moved mine and Alicia’s things to the new apartment today. I asked Connie to watch her whilst I spoke with you. I’ll collect her once we’re done here and that will be that.’

‘So what… You thought the best way to spring this on me was to tell me the day you’ve already left me?’

‘I didn’t expect it all to process so quickly. Give me some fucking credit Javier I have been pretty honest and upfront with you from the beginning.’ You snarled as you pointed an accusing finger at him ‘I tried to talk with you after everything and you shut me out so the way I look at it. You brought this on yourself.’

He stood there seething. Chest heaving as the two of you glared at each other, neither one breaking the intense eye contact that you were locked into. When he said nothing more you took that as your cue to leave, nothing more needed to be said.

‘Goodbye Javier.’

‘No, I’m not letting this happen.’ He sobbed, tears falling freely now as he grabbed you before you’d managed to walk out the door ‘You can’t just leave. I need you. Don't leave me.’

'You don't need me, Javier. You've made that perfectly clear.' You sob, heart breaking at the way he was looking at you but you knew it wasn't because you were leaving.

'You can't do this.'

Pulling your arm from his grasp, you shrugged your coat back into place and looked at him one final time.

‘Watch me.’

1 Month Later...

‘Where the fuck is Peña?’ You snapped, as you threw Steve a cold look.

‘He called in sick.’ He replied, shrugging his shoulders but his expression didn't match the action.

‘Sick?’ You questioned ‘What’s wrong with him this time?’

Steve shrugged again and you scoffed, downing the last of your coffee before standing and making your way out of the office you shared. You knew that Steve knew more than he was letting on but you found it difficult to care.

Things had been difficult between you and Peña since you had moved out. He’d spoken to you only to get updates on the baby and regarding work. You had agreed on a schedule where he could have her for a few hours in the evenings before Connie collected her and brought her back to you. It was easier than attempting to exchange pleasantries that neither of you wanted to share.

After refilling your coffee you stormed back into the office where your anger-filled rant continued.

‘You know that he’s refused to have Alicia the last few evenings?’ You growled as you angrily stirred your drink ‘One minute he’s begging me not to take her away and now he refuses to see her.’ You stop to take a sip of your drink before you resumed ‘And the worst part is, is that she won’t settle now because she hasn’t seen him. She got into a routine and now it's fucked. Can't the man just man the fuck up and take responsibility for his child at least?’

‘Perhaps you should cut him some slack.’ Snapped Steve, taking you by surprise ‘The man was used to seeing his infant daughter whenever he wanted and now he gets her a few hours an evening? He’s a fucking mess and no wonder. He misses his daughter, he misses you, though he’d never admit it, and he’s all alone now with very little memory of the last year of his life! I get that you’re upset but the two of you need to sort this shit out.’ He scooped up the folders on his desk and abruptly stood from his chair ‘I’m sick of watching and I’m sick of being in the middle of it. Talk to him.’

You were stunned by Steve’s outburst. You stood there frozen to the spot as you meditated on his words and you realised that you’d once again been so caught up with your own pain that you had ignored his. Grabbing your purse you fumbled around until you found what it was you had been looking for and after telling the office assistant that you needed to run an errand you were out of the door and sprinting to your truck.

You needed to speak to him.

…

It didn’t take you long to get to Javier’s apartment but after banging on the door for some time you knew he wasn't home and so you rushed up the stairs. Connie answered her door after three knocks and was shocked, to say the least, when she found you stood there.

‘What are you doing here?’ She inquired as she nervously shifted on her feet

‘I wanted to talk and to check on Alicia.’

‘Oh um…’

‘Connie, what is it?’ You questioned, noting her shifty behaviour.

‘She’s not here.’ She declared and your eyes grew wide.

‘What?’

‘She’s with Javi.’ She said as you barged past her ‘He came to see me, he was an absolute wreck and when he saw she was with me he begged me to let him have her for the day.’

‘Connie you can’t just let her go off-’

‘With her father?’ She snapped and you turned to face her ‘Hun he’s her dad and he’s been broken since you left. He hadn’t even known she was here when he arrived but when he saw her he sobbed.’

‘You should have told me.’

‘You’re right I should have and I’m sorry.’ She asserted ‘If I’m being honest I wasn't expecting you back so soon.’

‘Yeah well, I actually came to talk to Peña.’ You confessed, noting her shocked expression ‘Your husband kinda yelled at me about how I’d been acting and I realised I may have been a little harder on him than he deserved.’

‘He misses you.’

‘He misses Alicia.’ You scoffed, rolling your eyes when she shook her head.

‘Well yes but he misses you too.’ She continued, taking a seat at her kitchen table ‘He realised that he’d dealt with everything so wrong. He wanted to reach out but didn’t know how to. Over the weekend we helped him with a few things for the nursery, he wanted to get some new furniture just in case he finally got Alicia overnight and as we were building it he just broke. Sobbed his heart out to us. Please, just give him a chance to prove he’s sorry.’

You nodded as you mulled over her words, knowing that you needed to take steps to repair your fractured relationship with your child's father. Perhaps baby steps were the best way to go.

‘Okay. Can you drop Alicia off when he gets back? She’s got a check-up appointment and so do I.’

‘Sure thing you.’ Connie returned, smiling sweetly at you as she walked you to the door.

Standing by the car looking at your baby girl in her seat you felt your heart ache a little. You knew that this was the right thing to do but that hadn't made it any easier. You'd gone to your appointment and after being given the news that everything was perfect you'd gone home and prepared her a bag. A few bottles of breast milk, formula, diapers, changes of clothes and her favourite stuffed toy.

‘Right baby girl now I want you to be good for Papi okay?’ You said as you lifted her from her car seat and placed her in the carrier ‘I’m going to miss you like crazy but I know that you’ll have so much fun and I’ll see you tomorrow.’ You finished as you slung her bag over your shoulder and lifted her carrier before ascending the steps of the building you had once called home.

Making your way to his front door you knocked three times and waited.

Nothing.

You scrunched your face in confusion as you knocked again only to once again be greeted with no answer. You placed your ear on the door where you heard what sounded like Javier crying out and your stomach dropped. Without thinking you slotted the key you still had for his apartment into the lock and opened it quietly, leaving Alicia and her bag tucked safely behind the large potted plant beside his door. Pulling your gun from the holster at your waist you entered his home, weapon drawn and ready.

What received you made you sob.

Javier was laying on the floor, a redhead bear beneath him and both of them were coated in a thin layer of sweat. Your stomach twisted as you stumbled back, gun dropping to the floor with a thud which then grabbed Peña’s attention. His blissed-out expression soon turning into something completely different.

‘Shit.’ He breathed before you snapped back to reality and looked at him with an expression that broke him completely before you fumbled for your gun and turned to leave ‘Wait.’ He called out to you as he pulled on his jeans and sprinted after you, catching up as you made it to your truck, the baby in your arms ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I came to give you Alicia for the night.’ You stated, looking at him now with a stone-cold expression ‘Connie told me how broken you'd been without her and how much you missed her. I felt bad that you had only been getting her for a few hours in the evenings so thought that maybe this would cheer you up a little’ You proceeded ‘She said you missed me too but clearly that's not true.’

‘I do.’ He stated and you snorted in response before pulling open the back door to your truck, placing Alicia in her seat.

‘Right.’

‘Fuck, I do.’ He roared, instantly regretting it when Alicia started to bellow ‘Look I’m sorry you saw what you saw. It meant nothing. I met her at the bar and we got to talking and-‘

‘You ended up fucking her on the floor.’ You snapped as you threw Alicia’s bag in the footwell and started to make your way to the driver's side door 'Some things never change eh Peña?'

‘Will you just stop.’ He begged, grabbing your arms and spinning you so you were facing him.

‘Why Javier? Why should I do anything for you?’ You sobbed ‘You say you miss me? Well someone who misses someone doesn’t then proceed to fuck a randomer he meets in a bar. He tries to talk to said person and maybe work things out.’

‘Would you have talked to me?’

‘Why do you think I’m here Javier?’ You growled ‘I wanted to talk... To try and have some sort of relationship with you, for our daughter's sake whether that was friends or something more but now… Now I’m done.’

‘Can I still have her tonight?’ He pleaded, eyes then falling on his screaming infant in the back seat of your truck.

‘No.’ You spat, shoving him back and jumping into your truck before locking the doors ‘We’ll work something out but I won't have my baby around one of your whores Javier. I rule the line at that.’

Turning the ignition you threw it into drive and you disappeared, leaving him stood there staring off after you. After a few numb moments, he allowed himself to cry, hands covering his face as he fell to his knees and allowed everything he'd been holding in to flow freely and that's what it took.

Looking up at the dark stain on the concrete pavement ahead.

He remembered everything.

Part 5

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier peña gif #javier gif #narcos fanfiction x reader #narcos fanfiction x you #narcos x you #narcos x reader #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #narcos gifs #narcos #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal gif

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sequinsmile-x · 4 years ago

Text

Day-to-Day

Emily is the glue that holds the family together, aka five times the Hotchner family needed Emily.

A story in the “5 times + 1″ format.

Part of the Whatever Tomorrow Brings universe.

Chapter 1 - Amelia.

Read on AO3 via this link, or below the cut

March 2010

Aaron wakes to his bed being empty. He rubs his eyes, trying to remove the last remnants of sleep, and he turns to check the alarm clock, groaning when he sees it’s 3am. He touches the other side of the bed and feels that the sheets are cold, indicating that his wife had been gone for some time. Amelia had been off the evening before, their usually happy baby grouchy and sleepy. Which was always the first sign that she was coming down with something. Theo had been ill the week before, a bug he’d picked up from school, and Aaron had naively hoped they’d managed to avoid it being passed on to the youngest Hotchner.

He sits on the side of the bed and spots light filtering out from under the ensuite door. He walks over, opening the door to find his wife laying back in the bath, Amelia dozing on her chest. Emily looks tired, a small smile on her face when she spots him. “Hey.” She rasps out, staying quiet so she doesn't wake their daughter.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Aaron walks in and kneels on the floor next to the bath. “Everything ok?”

“She woke up about an hour ago, she had a fever. I thought a lukewarm bath might bring it down, but she started to cry every time I tried to put her in here herself.” Emily says gently, placing a hand on Amelia’s forehead. “It’s come down a bit.”

“You should have woken me up.” He says, placing a hand on their daughter's back. “I’d have helped.”

“It’s ok, honey.” She says placing her hand over his. “You need your sleep, work has been rough on you lately.”

“Right.” He says, with a raised eyebrow. “Because your job is a piece of cake.” Aaron links their fingers and runs a thumb over her knuckles. “You don’t have to do it all on your own anymore, Em. I’m here now. We’re all here.”

She purses her lips together and nods at him. It was still her instinct sometimes to try and do it all by herself, especially anything to do with the kids. Memories of those months spent alone waiting for Foyet to be stopped were sharp, and sometimes it still took her breath away. How close they had come to losing everything.

“Can you take her?” She asks softly. “She should be fine for now.”

“Of course.” He lifts the toddler off of his wife's chest and wraps her in a towel. Amelia wakes almost immediately, grumbling at being removed from her mother. “Let’s go get you dressed sweetie.”

He takes Amelia to the nursery and puts a fresh diaper on her, and a thin sleepsuit. He frowns at the warmth still on her skin, and soothes her when she starts to cry again. “I know what you want, you want Mommy.” He lifts Amelia into his arms and kisses her forehead. “I don’t blame you, I always want her when I feel sick too.”

Emily is already in bed dressed in one of his shirts when he walks back into their bedroom. Amelia immediately reaches out for Emily, the little girl's face already scrunched up as she cries. He passes Amelia over, lets his wife take him into her arms. “Mama.”

“You’re ok, sweet girl.” Emily says, running a hand over the back of her daughter’s head. She kisses her forehead and frowns. “It’s gone down, but she’s still warm.”

“We’ll call the doctor if she’s still got a temperature in the morning.” He says. Emily nods, settling Amelia so she is resting against her chest. The little girl's favorite place to sleep when she was sick or sad. “Sweetheart, you aren’t going to get any sleep if she’s in here.”

“I know.” She replies, soothing the small coughs coming out of Amelia by rubbing her back. “I’ll get someone to drop some case files and paperwork here tomorrow, work from here until she’s better.”

“And if you get a case?”

She glares at him. “Then I’m sure the team can handle it without me. It’s not like they haven’t before.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I’m not leaving her if she’s sick, Aaron.” She says, her voice firm. “She only settles for me if she’s sick and I’m not putting either of you through that.”

He knew his wife somehow felt responsible for his delicate relationship with his daughter. Things were better now, so much better, but he couldn’t say it didn’t hurt when Ameila, or any of their kids, immediately reached for Emily when something was wrong. The six months they had spent alone together had formed a bond he loved, but that he was also, in his worst moments, jealous of.

He wants to argue, wants to say that eventually something would happen with one of the kids when she wasn’t there, but he knows this isn’t the time. That it can wait until it isn’t almost 4am and she has their feverish daughter pressed against her.

“It’s a good thing your boss is so understanding.”

Emily smiles at him. “Well, I do repay his understanding with blow jobs so I think it’s earned.” _________________

May 2024

Ameila was Emily through and through. It was something Aaron, and just about everyone they knew, said frequently. She looked like Emily. She had her nose, her dark eyes and hair, and the same smile that had always been able to convince Aaron to do just about anything. Amelia had inherited her fathers jawline and his seriousness, her frown, a pure ‘Hotch’ look that Penelope had often joked would serve her well in whatever she decided to do in the future.

She also had Emily’s attitude. A need to know everything, to push all the boundaries around her, that often drove Aaron to the edge of his sanity in a way neither of his sons ever had. Elizabeth often commented on how similar Amelia and Emily were, and he never missed the way she smirked at him when she said it.

Emily was fiercely protective of Amelia. Aaron knew it was because their daughter was the only one of their kids who didn’t remember the incident with Foyet. She was so small when it happened, only a few months old when her family was torn apart by the actions of a psychopath, and they were grateful for it. Jack and Theo still bore the scars of what happened, years of therapy had done them wonders, but it still surfaced at times, almost unexpectedly. Leading to Theo calling in the middle of the night, the now 21 year old plagued by nightmares that his mother was dead, only calmed down by the sound of her tired voice over the phone.

The first time Amelia really pushes the boundaries with her parents is when she comes home one day with her nose pierced. The ring in her nose was massive, big enough to allow for the swelling that would follow, drawing her parents attention to it immediately.

“What the hell is that in your nose?” Aaron asks, annoyance clear in his tone.

“It’s a nose ring, Dad.” Amelia answers, her eyes rolling as she hangs her keys up. “I got it done after school.”

“And who said you could do that?”

“It’s my nose. I didn’t realise I needed permission.”

“Ok.” Emily interrupts, placing a hand on her husband's arm to try and diffuse the situation. “I think what your dad is trying to say is that you should run this stuff past us, ok?”

Amelia scoffs. “Well it’s your nose I inherited, surely you understand why I wanted to do something to it.” She walks past her parents and goes up the stairs before the conversation can go any further. “I have homework.”

_________________

Aaron walks into their en-suite later that night to find Emily standing in front of the mirror scrutinising her appearance. He leant against the doorframe and watched as she turned her head side to side, running her finger down the slope of her nose. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at herself straight on again, her finger pressed into the tip.

“Em?”

She turns to look at him, taking her hand away from her nose as she does. He doesn’t miss the shy look on her face as she wrung her hands together. “Do you think my nose is weird?”

He frowns at her. “What? No.”

“I know it’s ridiculous. I’m 53 for fuck sake.” She mutters to herself.

He kisses the tip of her nose and she smiles at him. “You’re beautiful.”

“And you’re ridiculous.” She wraps her arms around him anyway, pulling him in for a kiss. “It will look better when she can switch to a smaller ring.”

“It will look better when she just takes it out.”

Emily laughs, shaking her head at him. “Come on, let's go to bed. Some of us have work in the morning.”

He raises an eyebrow at her as he always did when she referred to his early retirement, even though it had been years since he left the FBI. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

_________________

The casual mention of a boyfriend, a boy from Amelia’s art class called Chase, almost sends Aaron orbital. He manages to keep his opinions to himself until Amelia has gone to bed and he’s just in the kitchen with his wife, helping her with the dishes even though it was long ago established as her chore since she never cooked.

“She’s not that bad, Aaron.”

He scoffs at his wife. “She’s going to make me go grey.”

“Honey. Amelia is a teenage girl. A pretty well behaved one in comparison to what I was like.”

“Suddenly I feel a lot more sympathy for Elizabeth than I ever have before.” He mutters as he continues to put dishes away.

“What was that?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing, sweetheart.”

She narrows her eyes at him as she passes him another plate, patting his cheek with her spare hand. “You’re already grey, Aaron. It’s got nothing to do with the fact our daughter has a boyfriend. Or a nose ring.” _________________

Emily finally loses her cool two weeks later. They are eating dinner, just her, Amelia and Aaron, when she spots something on her daughter's wrist as she reaches for more salad. Emily grabs Amelia’s arm and pulls her sleeve back slightly to reveal a, admittedly very small, heart tattoo onto her daughter’s wrist. It was crude, slightly wonky and clearly not a professional one.

“What the hell is this?” She asks, staring her daughter down.

Amelia tears her arm out of her mother’s grasp and pulls her sleeve back down. “It’s a tattoo, Mom.”

“A tattoo? When did that happen?” Emily looks over at Aaron, who to her annoyance looked slightly amused that she was finally reacting like he had been all along.

“We did them at school.” Amelia answers, taking another bite of her dinner.

Emily’s initial reaction of telling her daughter how dangerous that was, how stupid, was drowned out by her overriding fear of who exactly had done this. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

“Chase and I did them. We have matching ones.” Amelia says, looking at her mother with a challenge on her face. “I don’t see what the big deal is Mom, you have tattoos.”

Emily glares at her husband when he chokes out a laugh at that, and he quickly excuses himself from the table. She turns back to her daughter. “Amelia, it really wasn’t very safe to do that. You have to let professionals do this kind of thing.”

Amelia rolls her eyes as she takes the final bite of her dinner. “Whatever.” She gets up from the table, already half out of the dining room before she speaks again. “I need to go FaceTime Chase.”

Emily puts her head in her hands as soon as she is alone. Her daughter was too much like her for her own good, independent and wilful almost to a fault. Emily loved that Amelia was like that, that she was so sure of herself in a way that Emily certainly hadn’t been at her age. She took it as a testament to her and Aaron’s parenting, but right now she was struggling with it. She just wanted to sit Amelia down and tell her that not everyone in the world had her best intentions at heart, and Emily had an increasingly sinking feeling that Chase was one of those people.

She blows out a breath and stands up, starting to collect the dishes from the evening meal. Emily hears her husband re-enter the room. “I’m going to get her some antiseptic cream to put on it. Who the hell knows where they got the needle they did it with from.”

“Emily-”

“She gave herself a matching tattoo with her boyfriend, Aaron.” She says, putting the dishes she had been holding back down on the dining room table. “They’ve been together for 8 weeks.”

He steps towards her and places his hands on her hips. “What was it you told me last week? That it will work itself out eventually.”

“She thinks she loves him, honey.” Emily lamented, allowing her husband to pull her into his arms. “And I know he’s going to break her heart.”

Aaron kisses her. “Sweetheart, we can’t protect her from that.” He kisses her again, cupping her cheek with his hand. “All we can do is be here for her if it happens.”

Emily rests her forehead on his chest. “Now who's being annoying ok about all of this?”

_________________

“This is where I found out I was pregnant with you.” Emily says offhandedly, a wistful smile on her face. It was so long ago now, but she still remembered the joy she had felt when she first saw Amelia on screen. The baby she had always been told she couldn’t have was now this amazing person she couldn’t imagine her life without.

Emily looks at her daughter when she doesn’t get a response, and she stops herself from laughing when she sees how pointedly Amelia is ignoring her. “Oh really, Mom?” She says to herself. “That’s so interesting.”

“Mom, I cannot believe you are doing this.” Amelia seethes, looking at the floor of the clinic they were in. Embarrassment coming off of her in waves. “This is so embarrassing.”

Emily rolls her eyes, and bites back a comment about how if she found birth control embarrassing then she should think twice about having sex. “I just want you to be safe, ok? You’ve got a boyfriend now and whilst I am not exactly delighted at the idea of you having sex.” She says, not missing how her daughter grimaces. “I don’t want you to take any chances.”

“Amelia Hotchner?”

Emily and Amelia look up to see Joanne standing at the door to her office looking expectantly at them. Emily smiles at her, Amelia does not, and the latter sighs as she stands up. She takes a few steps towards Joanne, only pausing when she realises her mother isn’t following her.

“Well you may as well come in. This was your idea after all.” Amelia says, annoyance colouring her tone. Emily sees past it, spotting the way her daughter nervously wrings her hands, fingers digging at her cuticles in a way she had picked up from her.

“Of course, sweetie.” She stands and walks up to her daughter, and guides her into Joanne’s office with a gentle hand on her back.

_________________

“You did what??” Aaron asks, seething, as they get ready for bed side by side in their ensuite. He turns to her, a disbelieving look on his face.

“I took her to get birth control.” Emily answers around her toothbrush, spitting into the sink. She rinses it and places it next to his in the holder.

“Why?” He is glaring at her, and she's suddenly more glad than ever that she hadn’t broached this subject with him until after Amelia had a packet of pills sitting in her bathroom cabinet, with very explicit instructions on the importance of taking it correctly from both Emily and Joanne. “Is she sleeping with him?”

“I don’t even know if she is having sex yet. But you know these things happen. I bought the boys condoms when they were teenagers.” She purposely misses out that she had also bought Amelia condoms, thinking that admission might make her husband's head explode. “I wanted to make sure she takes precautions if she takes that step.”

“She’s 15, Emily.”

“Yeah, and so was I.” She closes her eyes and sighs, turning to look at her husband as she crosses her arms across her chest. She looks at him and bites her lip, trying to figure out what she’s been wanting to say. “Aaron, I just don’t want what happened to me to happen to her.”

Emily can see the moment it registers in his head. The way his brow unfurls, his whole body unclenching as the anger seeps out of him, replaced by concern for her. He takes a step towards her. “Sweetheart…”

She shakes her head at herself, wiping a stray tear away that had fallen at the admission. “She deserves better than that.”

He sighs as he drags her into a hug, one she gladly returns, wrapping her arms around his back. “You deserved better than that too.”

Emily buries her face into his neck, breathes in the scent of him that had comforted her for more than half her life. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” _________________

Three days later it becomes a non issue. Amelia is out with friends, and Chase, leaving Aaron and Emily with the house to themselves.

Emily is sitting in her husband's lap on their couch. His hands up her shirt and his tongue in her mouth, when she hears it. A car door slamming on edge of her consciousness, someone running up the steps of their porch. She pulls back from Aaron, the dazed look on his face surely matching the one on her own. “Did you hear that?” She breathes out.

They hear a key in the door and break apart like they’ve burnt each other, both standing as the front door opens.

Amelia bursts in, tears streaming down her face. She drops her bag at the front door, her school things abandoned in the foyer of their home, and as soon as her eyes land on Emily her face crumbles. The steady stream of tears turning into sobs. “Mom.”

“Amelia?” She closes the gap between them, concern for her daughter overriding anything else, any lingering hopes she had of alone time with her husband gone in an instant. Amelia is in her arms in seconds, clawing at her shirt to try and get as close as possible. She buries her face into Emily’s shoulder and weeps. Emily cups the back of her daughter’s head, and runs her other hand up and down her back. “Oh sweetheart, it’s ok.” She soothes. “You’ll be ok.”

Emily exchanges a concerned look with Aaron over the top of their daughter's head and she shakes her head at him slightly when he takes a step towards them, silently asking him to leave it to her. He understands, just like he always had, and leaves them to it despite wanting to know exactly what has upset Amelia this much.

“Mia, honey.” She says gently, hand still tangled in her daughter's dark hair. She tries to pull back slightly, cupping Amelia’s cheek, but she holds on to her tighter, sobs still tearing out of her throat. “Let’s move over to the couch, ok?”

Amelia nods against her but doesn’t separate herself from her mother at all. Emily carefully guides her over to the couch and sits down. Amelia curls into her, wrapping herself around her in a way she hadn’t done in years. Emily wraps her arms around her, and whispers random words of comfort into her daughter's hair.

“Sweetheart.” She says gently, pulling away enough that she can cup Amelia’s face in her hands. She wipes tears away from her cheeks with her thumbs. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, not until you’re ready, but I need to know if you’re hurt.”

Amelia shakes her head. “Not hurt.” She says, her words choked by her tears. She leans back into Emily, pressing her face into her neck.

“Ok, sweet girl.” Emily says the old nickname, one she hadn’t used since Amelia was 9 and turned her nose up at it, slipping out without thinking. She presses a kiss on her daughter's head. “I’m right here.”

It takes almost 30 minutes for Amelia to calm down, for her sobs to dissipate into sniffs and a hoarseness in her throat as she takes in ragged breaths. “He broke up with me.”

Emily frowns, holding her daughter impossibly tighter. “What?”

“Chase broke up with me.” Amelia says, pulling back so she could look at Emily properly. “He said I was boring.”

Emily covers her reaction to that, keeping her surprise away from her face. Boring was not a word she would have ever used to describe Amelia. She tucks some of Amelia’s hair behind her ear. “I’m so sorry, baby. I know you really liked him.”

Amelia snuggles back down into her, sniffing as she lays her head on Emily's shoulder. Emily runs her hand through her daughter's hair, soothing her as she finishes calming down. “What do you want to do?” Emily asks. “We could get Dad to go out and get Taco Bell.”

Amelia chokes out a laugh but shakes her head. “I think I just want to go to bed.”

“Whatever you want.” _________________

Aaron is pacing their bedroom when she enters it, softly closing the door behind her. He stops and looks at her, an expectant look on his face.

“He broke up with her.” Emily says. “She is heartbroken.” She hears how her own voice breaks as she tells him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like that.” She shakes her head at herself. “The worst thing is when she told me what happened I felt relieved. She’s sitting there absolutely hysterical and I’m relieved?”

Aaron closes the distance between them and hugs her. “You’re a fantastic mom, Em. I won’t let you believe anything other than that.”

She chokes out a laugh, somehow still surprised after all these years that he was able to guess what was really bothering her without her saying it outloud. “You’re a pretty great dad yourself, Mr Hotchner.” Emily lets herself relax in her husband’s embrace for a little longer, she pulls back and looks up at him. “I’m going to go in and sleep with her tonight.”

“Ok, sweetheart.” He kisses her quickly before letting her go so she can get ready for bed. He watches as she pulls on pyjama pants and a soft t-shirt that once belonged to him.

Aaron admires his wife as she takes off her makeup from the day and puts her dark hair up, smiling as he catches sight of some grey flecks that she hates as she twists it into a bun. She never believes him when he says it, but he thinks she's more beautiful now than she was when they first met all those years ago. Emily had always been beautiful, from the 22 year old she was when they first met. Teasing smiles and flirty comments as she coaxed him out to a bar with her.

Emily always lamented aging, wondering where the time had gone. More self conscious now than she had been the entire time he had known her. All he saw in lines on her face that she thought made her look old was all the laughter and joy they’d had over the years. She was softer now, her hips wider, evidence that she had given him two of their children that made him find her even more attractive. The grey flecks in her hair, that he knew she’d get dyed again soon, that showed him just how long they had loved each other.

They had been together 31 years and sometimes Aaron felt every moment of it, every single thing that had happened to them since she kissed him at one of her mother’s events. It somehow also had passed in the blink of an eye, decades gone in seconds and he was still somehow lucky enough to have her by his side.

“You’re staring.” She says, pulling him out of his thoughts with an amused look on her face and a teasing tone to her voice.

He pulls her into his arms again, kisses her cheek, then her nose. Making her laugh as she tries to squirm away from him. “You’re beautiful.”

Emily rolls her eyes at him. “You’re ridiculous.” _________________

Ameila smiles shakily at her mother as she walks into her room. Emily walks over to her bed and climbs in on the spare side, settling down for the night. She lays on her side and looks at Amelia, tucking some hair behind her ear. “How are you doing, sweetie?”

Amelia sniffs, suppressing a sarcastic laugh. “I’ve been better.” She settles into her mother’s side, resting her head on her shoulder. In the darkness of her bedroom, with Emily’s arms wrapped tightly around her, she finally feels like she can admit the truth. “It’s because I wouldn’t have sex with him.”

“What do you mean?”

Amelia closes her eyes as she catches the tone in her mother’s voice, the dangerous edge to it that she was so rarely on the receiving end of. She had only ever really overheard it when she was talking to someone about work over the phone, or one the rare occasion her parents had a full blown row, their angry voices soon turning into other noises that Amelia thanked whoever was listening for the invention of noise cancelling headphones.

“That’s why he broke up with me.” Amela says, feeling tears build back up in her eyes. “Because I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

She feels her mother’s hold on her tighten, and the sharp intake of breath that she takes beneath her head. Emily kisses the top of her head. “You’re ok, sweetheart. Go to sleep.”

Amelia drifts off to the feel of her mother stroking her hair, something she hadn’t had happen since she was younger. She was surprised to realise how much she had missed it, regret for how she had started to rebuff her mother’s affection a few years back building in her chest. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too.” Another kiss to the top of her head. “Now get some sleep.”

She falls asleep, completely unaware of how Emily laid awake for hours, anger for a teenage boy she had only met once burning through her veins until she came up with a plan. _________________

Emily wakes in the morning to the sound of Amelia’s door opening. She opens her eyes to see her husband standing there, a takeout coffee holder in his hand, and an unsure look on his face.

She smiles at him as she sits up in bed and beckons him in. He switches the light on, which immediately wakes Amelia, her groans the first indication that she was up.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Aaron says kissing his wife before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Morning.” She murmurs against his lips, before lifting the coffee she knew was intended for her. Cold brew with enough sweetener in it to rot your teeth.

“You guys suck.” Amelia groans from below the comforter, voice still thick with sleep.

Emily chuckles. “I think you’ll change your mind when you see what your dad has brought you.”

Amelia lifts the comforter from off of her face and shoots up when she sees her favourite frappuccino in her fathers hands. “Dad, you are the best.” She takes a sip and moans, the sugar hitting her tongue. “No wonder Mom has put up with you so long.”

Aaron laughs, glad to see that she seemed her usual self after how devastated she had been the night before. “Are you ok, Mia?”

She smiles at her dad, a shaky thing that was always the first indicator from his wife and daughter that tears were on the horizon. “I will be.” ______________

Emily’s first thought is to set Penelope on Chase. Let her hack into his social media accounts and digitally ruin his life for upsetting her little girl. For trying to pressure her into something she didn’t want to do. She knew Penelope would do it without a second thought. She was the most trusted confidant of all of the younger Hotchner's outside of their parents. Jack had asked for her help planning his over the top proposal to his now wife. Theo had come out to her first, a nervous teenager in her office asking for help on how he could tell his parents. Amelia went to her for advice on everything from boys to elaborate hairstyles, and Penelope gently discouraged her from dying her hair bright purple when she was 13, knowing it would have given Aaron an aneurysm.

Emily was finishing getting ready for work, Amelia already on her way to school, as she started to formulate a text to her friend, a cryptic request to come see her as soon as she got to work, when Aaron snuck up on her in the kitchen.

“You can’t get Penelope to ruin his life.”

Emily jumps, cursing under her breath. “Damn it, Aaron.” She turns to look at him, a sheepish look on her face. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything of the sort.”

“Oh really?” He raises an eyebrow at her. “You weren’t thinking of having her hack all of his social media accounts and freeze his bank account?”

Emily flushes and puts her phone down on the counter. “I can’t just let him get away with it.”

Aaron smiles at her and pulls her towards him with his hands on her hips. “Baby, this is something we have to let her deal with ok?” He kisses her cheek, his smile deepening as she narrows her eyes at him. “No getting Penelope involved.”

“Fine.”

Plan B it was. _________________

Emily is never happier than when she has all of her family in her house. The boys were coming round for dinner, Jack and his wife Sara and Theo and his new boyfriend Zach, someone he had met at college. Theo texted her that morning, a list of strict instructions of things that absolutely couldn’t happen the first time Zach was meeting the family.

She had just let them in, hugging her son fiercely as he walked in and feeling love bloom in her chest when he hugged her back just as tightly, no embarrassment at giving his mother this affection in front of Zach.

She lets him go and turns to the young man standing next to her son. “You must be Zach, I’m Emily.”

He shakes her hand, a nervous smile on his face. “Nice to meet you.”

Amelia bursts into the house, slamming the front door behind her, and immediately breaks the first rule on Theo’s list. “Мама, какого хрена?”

“Не сейчас, милая. У нас гости. И не ругайся.” Emily replies, tilting her head towards where Theo and Zach were standing.

“Ты должен был подумать об этом, прежде чем угрожать моему бывшему парню!”

Zach leans in to Theo, a confused look on his face. “Are they speaking Russian?”

Theo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did so, and looks at his boyfriend. “Yes.” He turns to his mother. “Ne pouvons-nous pas le faire? C'est la première fois que Zach rencontre tout le monde.”

Amelia rolls her eyes and Emily smiles at Theo. “Je suis désolé, chérie. On va bien se comporter.”

“Are you speaking French?” Zach asks, looking even more confused at the complete nonchalonce all of the Hotchner’s were showing at the multiple languages being thrown around as if it was nothing. The slight look of amusement on Aaron’s face as he walked into the room. “How many languages does your mom speak?”

Theo grabs his boyfriend's hand and leads him further into the house, away from the rest of the family. “Six. Seven if you include English.” _________________

Emily eyes Sara curiously when she turns down wine with her dinner, a small look passes between her and Jack when she asks for soda instead. Emily shares a similar look with her own husband, a look on his face saying he had spotted what she had too, and she gladly gets an alternative drink for her daughter-in-law.

Amelia sulks all the way through dinner. Rebuffing her brother’s questions about school, a glare fixed on her mother almost the entire time. It’s when she refuses her favourite dessert, cheesecake, that her brother’s interest is piqued.

“Mills.” Theo asks, amusement on his face at his sister’s behaviour. “What’s up with you?”

“Why don’t you ask Mom?” She said, pointedly looking at her mother. “Мама пытается разрушить мою жизнь, вот в чем дело.”

“I did not try and ruin your life, Amelia.” She says, rolling her eyes at her daughter's dramatics. She looks at her sons and their respective partners. “All I did was have a conversation with the boy who made Amelia cry herself to sleep a couple of days ago.”

“Yeah. By explaining that you’re a Section Chief at the FBI, whilst you had your gun and badge on display.” Amelia exclaims.

There was a moment of silence at the table before it descended into laughter, confusion all over Zach’s face on whatever he had walked into.

“Oh sweetheart.” Aaron says, looping his arm around the back of her chair to place a hand on her shoulder. “Not again.”

Amelia frowns, looking at her parents in shock. “Not again? What the hell does that mean?”

“Mom’s crazy, Millie.” Theo says, a laugh bursting out of him.

“Hey, I resent that.” Emily says, sinking back into her chair slightly, glaring at Aaron when he laughs at her and kisses the side of her head.

Jack gives Emily a look with his eyebrows raised before looking back at his sister. “My first ever girlfriend broke up with me the day before homecoming, Mom scared the absolute shit out of her by showing up at her cheerleading practise the following day. She somehow managed to mention that Dad once killed a guy with his bare hands.”

“Your dad did what?” Zach asks, leaning in to Theo who just shook his head. A silent promise that he’d explain later.

“In my defence.” Emily says, crossing her arms across her chest, a slight flush to her face. “This one was really sick at the time and I was pretty sleep deprived.” She says pointing at Amelia. “I wasn’t entirely in control of my emotions, and you were just so sad.”

“She also made me very aware of what she does for a living when Jack and I first moved in together.” Sara pipes up, nothing but amusement on her face when she looks at her mother-in-law. She turns back to Amelia. “I think it’s sweet.”

Amelia shakes her head at them all and turns to Zach. “Run whilst you still can.” __________________

Emily closes the door behind Jack and Sara as they leave, promises of getting together soon uttered in between lingering hugs.

“Mom?”

Emily turns to see Amelia standing behind her, her hands in her pockets as she avoids her mother’s gaze. It’s the calmest she’s looked all evening, any frustration she had towards her and her actions having melted away.

“Look, I’m sorry, Amelia.” She says taking a step towards her daughter. “I know I probably shouldn’t have done that. But you were so upset, and he deserved to-”

Her ranting is cut off by Amelia throwing her arms around her waist and placing her head on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

Emily smiles and hugs her daughter back, kissing the top of her head as she pulls her closer. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”

“I always thought it would be Dad, or Theo or Jack who went after a boy for me.” She says against her mother’s shirt before she pulls away. “At least I can tell any future guys that my mom is crazy.” _________________

Emily turns to lay on her side as Aaron joins her in bed, she smiles at him and pushes some hair off of his forehead before running her blunt nails over his temples, the mix of dark and grey hair rasping as she goes. “When do you think Jack and Sara are going to tell us she’s pregnant?”

A laugh peels out of Aaron before he leans forward and kisses her, pulling back only to press his forehead against hers. “Whenever they are ready.”

Emily shifts so her back is against him and pulls his arm over her waist, sighing when he settles his chest against her. “You’d think they’d learn they can’t hide anything from us.”

He kisses the top of her head and holds her a little tighter. “We’ve got some pretty great kids.”

“We really do.”

“You have got to stop threatening anyone who hurts them though.”

“Sure, love.” She says, pulling his hand up to her lips to kiss his knuckles. “I’ll stop.”

They both know she won’t.

#hotchniss #Hotchniss fan fic #hotchniss fan fiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #WTB Universe #Day-to-Day #it's just fluff guys #family fluff #domestic fluff #just them living their lives #which frankly they deserve #after what I put them through in ITSWM

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drabbles-mc · 4 years ago

Text

“I Like This”

Kozik x OFC (Tawnie Trager)

Request by @adela-topaz-caelon: Was re-reading the Kozik fic with the hickey, and I was reading the part where it said "fell into place", so I was wondering if we could get a prequel to that (The original fic can be found Here)

Warnings: language, alcohol

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Relationship build-ups are my jam! Hope you enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

SOA Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @garbinge @mijop @chibsytelford @xladymacbethx @i-just-read-stuff @kkim120 @multiyfandomgirl40 @everyhowlmarksthedead @toni9 @unicornucopia-fuckers @mayans-mc @shadow-of-wonder @punkgoddess-98 @paintballkid711 @black-repunzel99 @lexondeck @jitterbugs927 (If you want to be added to the taglist just let me know!)

She let out a deep sigh as she cleaned up a few stray bottles that were scattered across the bar and tables. Part of her wanted to leave it to be someone else’s problem, but the other part of her knew that even if she went home, she’d probably be awake and cleaning there too. She tossed the bottles into the garbage bin before beginning to wipe everything down.

The clubhouse had never been so quiet—the music was off, the guys had all either gone home or back to their dorms, and she was the only one left and it made the clubhouse seem five times larger than usual.

The silence was broken by the sound of heavy footsteps. Turning around, she saw Kozik coming into the bar area. He looked exhausted and like his hangover was already starting. She chuckled quietly as he walked behind the bar and looked for something in particular.

“I don’t think it counts as hair of the dog until morning,” she said with a quiet laugh.

He shook his head, chuckling, “Believe it or not, I’m just looking for a bottle of water.”

She laughed, motioning under the bar, “Left cabinet, bottom shelf.”

“We don’t have any that are refrigerated?”

“You think anyone comes here to drink water?” she shot back with a laugh.

He smiled as he twisted the top off, “That’s fair,” he took a long drink and looked back over to her, finally realizing what she was doing. He shook his head slightly, “You don’t gotta be doing all of that, T. Let the prospects handle it in the morning.”

She shook her head, “I’m almost done here anyway. Let them take credit for it, though,” she smiled.

“The guys would never let them.”

She chuckled, “True,” she tossed the rag onto the surface of the bar, “Alright. Well, I’m outta here,” she went and grabbed her purse, “I’ll see you around?”

“Yea I’m, I’m not going anywhere.”

She flashed him a smile, “Nice to know you’re back for good.”

She started making her way towards the door before he could try to come up with any kind of response at all, let alone one that would make him sound smooth. He let out a quiet sigh as he watched her walk out the door of the clubhouse. She was the last woman in the world that he should spend his time thinking about or talking to, but something inside him said that that fact wasn’t going to matter anymore, especially if he was sticking around.

Over the next couple of days, the two of them would exchange quick hellos and goodbyes when they crossed paths. Before he’d seen her after hours at the clubhouse, Kozik never actually realized just how often Tig’s daughter was at the clubhouse and T-M. She pitched in and helped Gemma when necessary, and growing up as Tig’s daughter meant that she knew her way around bikes and cars well enough to be helpful at the shop.

Kozik saw her getting her things together at the end of the day and made his way over to her. She heard his footsteps and turned around, smiling when she saw him. He tucked his hands into his pockets, “You gonna be around later?” he nodded towards the clubhouse.

She laughed, shaking her head, “No, not this time. Got other plans. You boys will have to clean up your own beer bottles tonight.”

He chuckled, “You know it’ll never get done.”

She smiled, “I know. Have a good—”

“He bothering you, Tawnie?” Tig walked up, positioning himself between the two of them.

She huffed, rolling her eyes as she shook her head, “I’m fine, Dad. “

He looked from her over to Kozik, eyes narrowing, “Don’t you have other shit you should be doing? Like not talking to or making eye contact with my daughter?”

“Dad—”

Kozik spoke up before the situation got any worse, “My bad,” he held his hands up in surrender before turning and walking away.

When he was out of earshot, Tawnie gave her father a good shove, “Why do you need to be such a dick?”

“All these guys know you’re off-limits. But him especially,” Tig saw the way that she rolled her eyes and he pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head, “You know I love you, T.”

“I love you too,” she grumbled before stepping back, “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Alright. Drive safe, baby,” he watched her walk towards her car for a moment before turning back around. He saw the way that Kozik was also watching her and shook his head. He was about to walk up to him when he heard Clay calling for him from the clubhouse. With a sigh, Tig turned around and made his way over, granting Kozik another day without getting chewed out by him.

The last thing that Kozik wanted was more issues with Tig. The man had had it out for him for years and getting involved with his daughter wasn’t going to make that situation get any better. He told himself that he was going to try and stay away from Tawnie when he could—not go out of his way to talk to her and just hope that she would return the favor.

At the end of the work day, she was trying to pull the garage door down for one of the work bays—the wiring in it went weeks beforehand and no one had gotten around to fixing it yet so it only lowered it about a quarter of the way, leaving it mere inches out of her reach.

With a heavy sigh, she called over to the other side of the shop, “Hey, Kozik?”

He turned around as he finished wiping off his hands, “Yea?”

“Can you…?” she pointed up at the door, “I can’t reach it,” she had to laugh.

He chuckled as he made his way over, “Yea, of course.”

She watched him as he reached up and pulled the door down the rest of the way with ease, “I swear I’m just gonna start wearing heels to work so I can reach shit.”

He smiled, trying to stifle his laughter a little, “I’m not sure if that’s the most practical solution to your problem. But,” he let himself meet her gaze, “I’m not going to try and tell you not to.”

She laughed, “Probably better that way. I’m not the kind of person people usually win arguments against.”

“Must be a Trager thing,” he chuckled.

“Well,” she laughed as she let her hair down out of its ponytail, “I’m at least a much more graceful winner than my father.”

“I think that’s a low bar to set, T.”

She chuckled as the two of them made their way towards the door of the garage, “Maybe.”

Kozik stood by while he watched her lock the door to the garage, trying not to be obvious about the fact that he was staring at her, “Are you…are you coming by for the party tonight?”

She shrugged, flashing him a smile, “I was thinking about it, why?”

“Just wondering,” he didn’t want to sound like he was being nosey or pushy.

She started walking towards her car, motioning for him to follow her, “Club events are always, uh, hit or miss, for me,” she laughed, “I wanna have fun but it’s difficult when Tig doesn’t want anyone to, you know, look at me,” she looked over at Kozik and heard the nervous chuckle slip past his lips, “I’m sorry about all that shit before, by the way.”

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it.”

“Well in that case,” she smiled as she dug her keys out of her purse, “I’m even more sorry,” she laughed.

“I’ll see you later?” he gave it one last shot as she climbed into her car.

She smiled at him, “Maybe. Try to stay outta trouble, alright?”

He gave her a smile and a nod before she turned the key in the ignition and took off out of the compound. Letting out a deep breath, he walked towards the clubhouse to get ready for church before the party that night.

“Hey,” she called out over the noise of the party that was well underway, “Kozik!”

He turned his head in the direction of his name, eyebrows raising in surprise when he saw who was calling for him. He quickly made his way over to her, watching as she carried a case of beer inside. He offered to take it from her but she shook her head at him.

“Got three more outside. Help me grab those? Put those muscles to some good use?”

He laughed as he walked back the way she came in, “Yes ma’am.”

She walked by him as he carried two cases and she chuckled, “Show-off.”

“I left the last one for you,” he smiled.

“And they say chivalry is dead.”

That was the last exchange they had for the rest of the party. Kozik got swept up in the antics with his MC brothers, and Tawnie was content to sit back and keep an eye on everything. She was always ready to jump in and run interference between anyone—she and her father had that in common. She was better at keeping her temper in check but she was just as protective as he was. She never let anything shady slip by her if she could help it.

Luckily, it was a relatively uneventful night. Aside from a few of the Cara Cara girls drinking too much and needing to be driven home, everyone was on their best behavior, whatever that meant for them. Soon enough they were all riding off on their bikes or safely passed out in their dorms. This time, though, Kozik didn’t even bother disappearing back to his room at the end of the night, he just hung back and waited for everyone else to clear out.

“So,” Tawnie was making her rounds and collecting beer bottles again, “is 2AM the optimal time to try and talk to you?”

“Without me running the risk of getting murdered by your dad, yea,” he laughed as he sat down at the bar.

“Ah,” she threw the bottles away and grabbed fresh ones for each of them, popping the tops off before hopping up and sitting on the bar, “So it’s strategic.”

“Something like that,” he took a swig of his beer, “Or maybe I just want all of your attention.”

She chuckled, “Well, you certainly have it now,” she gently nudged his knee with her foot, “So what can I do for you, hm?”

“Keeping me company at 2AM is more than enough.”

“Mm,” she hummed with a laugh, “Talk about low bars.”

That became their new routine. In the small, quiet hours of the morning after everyone else was gone or passed out, the two of them had their time. Sometimes it was only a few minutes, other times it was a few hours. There came a point where both of them recognized that it was much more than just keeping each other company, but neither of them wanted to say anything and run the risk of ruining it.

The two of them were sitting at the picnic table outside the clubhouse. Everything was quiet, everyone had long since disappeared and gone to bed. Kozik sat next to her on the same side of the bench, the outside of his leg pressing lightly up against hers as she toyed with the beer bottle in her hands.

“Thank you,” she said as she looked over at him.

He tilted his head in confusion, “For what?”

“For always staying. I know that you’d probably rather be sleeping right now, like most people would at 3AM,” she laughed, “But I like…this.”

“This?” a smile passed over his features.

She laughed, “Yea. This.”

He leaned forward onto the table, his forearm resting right next to hers, “I like this too.”

There were a few seconds of silence before she turned to face him again, waiting for him to do the same. He felt her eyes on him and when he looked over and saw the way her lips were slowly curling up into a smile, it was hard to take his eyes off of her. He nervously drummed his fingers on the side of his beer bottle as he tried to figure out what he was going to say or do next, but it was hard to think underneath the weight of her gaze.

She reached over and put her hand on top of his, gently taking it off the bottle and resting it on top of the table so she could lock her fingers with his. He watched her every move, heart pounding quickly inside his chest.

She tugged him closer to her and he gave in with ho hesitation, leaning in as her hands rested on the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. Despite the shock coursing through his system he wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her pulled tight as her fingers found their way up into his hair.

Weeks of late nights and whispered conversations all came together as he focused on the way that her lips moved against his. She let out a quiet moan as his fingers gripped onto her sides a little tighter, and for a moment he thought he was going to melt completely into her.

When she pulled away, trying to catch her breath as she felt her cheeks heating up, she couldn’t help but to let out a quiet laugh. Her let her hands lightly slide down his shoulders and arms until they interlocked with his.

“I think,” she looked at him, a playful light in her eyes, “we should definitely keep doing this.”

He couldn’t help but to laugh, pulling her in for a quick kiss, “Definitely.”

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #soa #soa imagine #kozik #herman kozik #kozik x oc #herman kozik x oc #my writing #drabblesmc #fanfiction #oc tawnie #oc tawnie trager

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years ago

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It’s The Avengers (03x14)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 14: It’s Not What It Looks Like

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: ehehehehehe

Word Count: my anxiety was through the roof this time. and that too on the thing that I know was not achievable. But noooo my boss just wants results. Well, fuck you and your boss who gave me anxiety. You will know the pain of these tears soon.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The familiar sports car shining in its red shade came to a halt right outside the door for Tony to get out and greet the lone camera covering him. "How's it going fellas?" He seemed comparatively chirpier than the last few days as he whistled his way to the boot of the trunk to take out five boxes of large pizzas along with a whole bag filled with soda and side dishes. "It's pizza party today, my lovely unicorn," he announced to the camera person; mostly because there was no one else in his vicinity.

Tony: *standing next to his car* I have come realise that I have been a bit hard on my team because of the anxiety I've been feeling ever since Y/N disappeared from right in front of me. Like last Monday. *camera switches to the video recording of Last Monday* Tony is seen in the kitchenette making detox juice for himself after a workout. Sam comes and grabs the coffee pot, looking around for a mug to pour himself some. The only mug hanging on the stand is your Brooklyn Nine-Nine themed one. "Well," he mutters to himself, "no one's using this for a while." Just as he finishes the sentence, Tony's hand slips on the juicer switch and the green spill out everywhere in the space, making Sam yell for help. "You are excluded from my will," Tony announces while looking dead into Sam's eyes before pouring the coffee from his pot into the sink and walking away. *back to present* Tony: Pepper says I went overboard but Sam didn't have to say that now did he. *makes a cringe face* Anyways. This is my way of showing them that I have made peace with the situation for now and that I trust our alien friends to get my daughter back to me asap.

Tony walked into the facility to be greeted by dead silence. "Did I miss something?" he wondered out loud for the camera while looking around the lobby and the waiting area. "I am pretty sure we were not supposed to go out anywhere thanks to that stubborn virus." He walked up the elevator to be greeted by Clint coming back from the security room with his self-regulated watch, carrying two glasses of iced Americanos- one of which he offered Tony. "Pizza-" he seemed happy to see the boxes, taking the bag from Tony- "what's the occasion? Are you firing one of us? Is there a budget cut because of the 'Rona? In that case, just know that I spot a person without a mask from miles. And I can end them right there." Tony pressed the button for the lounge and waited for the camera to record his wink and smile till the doors closed to let the other handy camera in the elevator- following Clint- take over. Clint did a survey of the bag and was quite content with the contents. Tony, still with his glasses on, walked his usual walk that displayed well that he owned the place. "No one's getting fired unless they are eating my choco-chip ice cream." "You have set the bar pretty low." "It's pretty much up to the expectations I have from you all."

Clint shrugged and went on to agree with him, walking behind the Iron Man as the elevator dinged. The camera followed Clint and Tony out to film the scene unfolding in the Lounge. Manoeuvring away from their shoulders, the camera caught that deadpan silence in the room filled with nearly every Avenger staring at the screen with the seriousness of defusing a bomb that may go off any time. Peter was hiding under Scott's arm, peeping at the screen through his hands while Scott was biting his nails, nervousness dripping from his forehead. Wanda held Vision's hand while she muttered something under her breath- most probably a chant. Sam seemed to have forgotten he was watering the plants for the water-can was already empty and yet he still went on to pour the contents while his eyes were glued to the screen. Bucky's hands were busy brushing Zuko's fur- while the pupper took this opportunity to lay in his lap and snooze- monotonously, his gaze too stuck on the screen. "Come on, come on. Do it," Steve muttered while on the edge of his seat on the sofa. The camera swivelled back to Clint and Tony- both of whom had confused looks on their faces by now. Both of them turned to the screen in sync to witness what exactly was it that had all of them in such a grim state. And it was something like this.

On the screen was a barely lit space that seemed like it could have been a small closet under somebody's staircase. In that barely lit space, you could be seen from your abdomen up. There you were, panting, sweating, your hair a literal mess, your bra strap dangling out of your tank top's straps. "Again," you panted, wiping the sweat beads from your forehead while positioning your hands on a surface where the camera was seemingly recording you from. And in that same dim light, a movement was discovered behind you. That movement was of the exposed muscles and skin that the viewers had never seen in their daily life. Well, neither had they seen that very person pant and sweat like this before as well. Green eyes shined in that bare light, as the familiar face came out from the shadows to apparently hover just above your shoulder. One pale hand was used to remove those clammy hair strands coming in his way before both arms mimicked your position and came to rest on either side of your arms. "Are you sure?" Loki's voice, breathless and heavy, questioned you with sincerity while his body did not budge from behind you. You nodded. "Again." The frame caught you adjusting your hips to position your butt right with his front- something that was not covered by the camera. He towered over you, adjusting to your height while grounded his arms on the surface. "Okay then," he whispered, taking one arm to move your butt a little closer to your frame before going back to anchor himself to the surface, "here we go."

The iced Americanos created a crackle and bang louder than expected- thanks to the already looming silence- when they hit the floor. The pizza box and other snacks? Not so much. Every other person jumped where they were to turn and watch the colours from Tony and Clint's faces drain away by the second, their jaws unhinged, their hearts at a pause and their lungs just no longer working. Steve- the only one in the room to have deciphered what had just gone down in those Dad brains- got up and raised his arms till his chest as of sign of caution. "It's not what you think. Tony, Clint it's not-" The elevator dinged and out came Natasha and Bruce with four feet long bags of Cheetos and popcorn, the former quite excited to rush out into the Lounge. "We found the snacks from the pantry! Did we miss something? Did they put it in yet?" Steve winced just as Bruce blurted out those words. Tony was already heaving audibly, no air going into his lungs as he nearly collapsed on the floor if not for Natasha holding him up like she was used to it. Clint, on the other hand, had 'disgusted' written all over his face, judging every single person in the room before storming out. "OH MY GOD!!!! OH MY GAAAAA~" the screams could be heard from outside while the camera zoomed in on Natasha's face- already bored and tired.

Natasha: If they had more than one working brain cell they wouldn't have fought like twelve-year-olds in the middle of an airport and then stopped talking for a whole year. *camera pans in on her face* *faces the camera* And to think they can procreate. .

One Hour Ago Eight Hours Earlier In A Galaxy Far Away One of the camera drones stepped over a stone wall and passed over a dozen guards, buzzing its best to enter the first window it could find. Passing over ogres guarding the small galleries, another drone accompanied the first one down the maze of hallways, parting at the stairway leading down to the dungeons and up to the meeting room. The way to the dungeons was one dark path that only lit up at the very end of the hallway- few lamps burning with constant flickers. The space was divided into walls and covered with iron bars. A few of these cells were empty while others housed creatures who are only spoken about with the name of their shadows. In the last cell was a shadow that seemed similar to that of a human sleeping under the lone ragged excuse of a blanket. If one tried to focus, they could hear light snores coming out of that creature too. The drone came to rest upon one of the iron bars, sending in the live feed to the cameraman behind this whole shebang. The other fly had already found the 'throne room'. The throne- as one could make out with the setting of the hall- was made out of a tree trunk burned till all that was left was an ash-covered dead piece looking up at the sky. The seat was carved right through the middle with one of the ashened branches housing a black adder with red eyes. And in the throne sat the one person no one wanted to see. "Aellae," you mumbled in the most derogatory sense, your eyes wanting to hurt her there and then through the screen in Javier's hand. And lo! Right then the God stepped in the frame, standing in front of the witch with his usual demeanour. Well, that's what it looked like. "Why do you have to bow to her?" You whispered at him a bit viciously. White entered the frame that was recording your end. Looking at the screen he furrowed his brows and wondered how you could tell that. "He stands straight," you stressed, already sensing the question from White, "and right now he is not. And he does not not stand straight for anyone." "I see you have found yourself a fine pair of pets on your galactic travels, my love," you and White hear Aellae from the screen, bringing your attention back to her. "Just a bunch of humans and a kitten to entertain me on my way," he chuckled and shrugged a little, that Asgardian charm resurfacing in his smile. Aellae smirked at him. "On your way to where?" The question had a hint of anger even when she added a wave of curiosity, something that was easy to catch of the one who was listening to layers in her voice. Loki waved his hands in the air. "You know how it is for me. Here and there, always on the move. A nomad exploring the universe." "No more," she announced, her head high, her stare stern, "now you stay with me. You will be my advisor in the day, guiding my army to every corner of this world, with nothing to spare." She got up from her throne to walk an inhumanly seductive gait to reach the God and place her finger under his chin. "And in the night, you shall be my pacifier," she whispered, making your whole face cringe for the camera to zoom into it. "You shall satiate all my bedly desires till I the very. last. drop." Something cracked on the other side, making Javier and White turn in every direction to look at the source of the sound. Lulu too was a bit confused. You were the only person not taking your eyes away from the screen.

You: I swear to God if she was not such a bitch, I would have asked her out. Would have even gone to lengths of being her *makes air quotes* bedfellow if she was not such a fucking bitch?? Javier: *turns the camera to himself with the dazed look on his face* *signs for the camera* I am supportive and all in for this but is now really a good time for her to be questioning her sexuality? When we can literally die for just breathing wrong???

"Now," Aellae snapped everyone back to the screen, "as for those pets of yours, I'll send someone to take care of them. They are just hindrance if nothing more." "Aellae," Loki's honey laden voice was now implying a sternness. "What." "They are not to be given enough importance to be-" Loki sighed and closed his eyes- "taken care of." "All the more fun to watch them die in misery." Her eyes widened with excitement at the thought of murder. "Especially that Midgardian who is living in the illusion of being your friend." Loki's jaw tightened. "If you decide to harm h-them, I will not aid you in your irrational quests, Aellae. Going after those weaklings proves that you are still the reckless stubborn creature that I left you." There wasn't an exclamation of surprise on her face but rather that particular smirk of the devil who has walked its prey right into its trap. "So, she does mean something to you." Loki kept mum. "Guards!" she yelled for the two orcs standing outside, "bring me the head of the woman!" "Aellae, stop," he begged casually. "Enough humour." "And do whatever with the rest of her!" she ordered with her eyes piercing through Loki's soul.

The next thing you know, the last fly drone that got lost on the middle floor somewhere was recording two orcs throwing Loki into a room before shutting the door behind him. His grunts echoed through the room with no windows. All around him were walls coloured in a dusty cream shade, lamps lining up the four walls with one dressing table sitting with one of the four walls, housing heavy chains, the purpose of which Loki did not want to know. He huffed as he stood up, looking at the door before letting his gaze land on those shackles on his wrist that now seemed permanent. The tension on his jaw did not go unnoticed by the tiny roommate before he slammed those bracelets- along with his wrist- into the wall in pure animalistic rage.

Witch's Den- Down the Hall Two orcs stood guard to the entrance coming to the floor via the stairs. One of them seemed to be snoozing with all the pressure sitting on his nose and brows while the other one was trying to drive away this one stubborn fly that kept buzzing around its head. Eventually reaching the threshold of irritation, he followed the fly out towards the stairs, his curved sword being swung into the air to strike the buzzing creature; only to be taken by surprise with a bright source of light. The next thing the fly was recording was the other orc waking up to the clunk of a sword dropping, this one finding gasping and taking an attack position before the camera went dark.

But not for long.

The fly in Loki's room recorded the God catching the sounds outside while he was in the middle of surveying the whole room for an escape route. The grunts and gasps of orcs outside have stopped, making him all the more cautious to the steps that steadily approach the door. He took one of the chains in his hand, with calculated steps, walked towards the door to catch whatever tried to come in next. With the sound of a heavy key twisted inside the keyhole, the wheels turned and the door opened a smidge to let someone in. Without losing even a second, Loki wound the chain around your neck from behind you, nearly choking you. "Not now, dammit!" you choked, trying to free yourself from the hold. "Y/N?" the surprise stirring along with confusion was a new shade on Loki that you would have appreciated any other day. "Wha-what are you doing here?" That God wasn't even able to squeak on realising it was you. The chains came off as fast as they had gone around your neck, giving you room to breathe and widen your eyes in horror. "No! No no no no noooo!!" You ran towards the door as it clunk shut, leaving you to pull at it with all your might to no avail. "The door opens from outside," you groaned with a sob, thumping your head on it with low winces before a tiny realisation hit you hard enough to stop and look back at Loki. "Ow!" He yelled at the hard slap that came for his back, looking at you in simmering confusion. "You could've waited to choke me after we got out, you fucking IDIOT!" The slaps and punches got more vigorous with each word until Loki had to gab your hands with his to stop you from wasting your energy anymore. "And what makes you think coming here was a good idea?" He struggled to keep your writhing form from hurting itself more than him. You were ready to kick him in his shins and you would have absolutely done that if Loki had not shoved you into the wall with him towering over you to restrict any movement of your limbs. The little buzzing drone came to sit over Loki's arm and capture the frame where both of you were flaming with anger and still trying to breathe enough to keep that rage alive. "I'd already told you were on your own," he grunted, his eyes drilling through your soul. "And I'd already told you I am a psychology major. I can see the denial routine from miles away, you stupid blob of six-foot galaxy brain! You think I haven't sacrificed myself to a professor for the sake of my friends?" "...what? Wait. What do mean by sacri-" "Now get off me and find us a way out of here." You pushed him back. Well, at least you thought you did. But he pushed closer to you, shooting emotions of mild surprise in your eyes before you caught yourself slipping. Fortunately, this little drone caught everything in 4K. From the veins popping in Loki's neck to the parted lips and wavering gaze of yours. "This world is not a joke, Y/N. There was a reason you were left behind. And you have done the exact opposite of that which is supposed to keep you alive." It felt as if Loki had to restrain from spilling that anger over the rim. To make that hypothesis true, he punched the wall to dissipate this emotion he did not want to be running him. And there he stood, his head hanging above you in defeat, his eyes closed and his breath wavering. "I was supposed to send you home safe," he was barely able to mutter. The drone focused on your hands coming around his torso, your arms taking as much of his frame in a hug as possible as you softly patted his back and soothed him. Loki's body twitched a little at this new touch, still like a stone before giving in with every wave of your soothing touch. "You're family, idiot. I'm not gonna leave you behind with some crazy bitch that isn't me?" A chuckle resonated through you and then the room. The next moment when you looked at him, he was looking lighter. "Now come on, use your muscles and drill through one of these walls." Raising his good brow, he judged you while tapping his fist casually on the wall. "What exactly do you take me for?" "A cheesy brooder who's all soft inside," you commented without skipping a beat, looking around to find some kind of a loophole in this square room. "Say that outside these walls and watch what this brooder does to you." "Sounds like an invitation," you sang under your breath, tapping the walls. It took a while. A while that was long enough for you to move around the room to come and sit on the lone drawer by the wall, feeling the heat of the room bursting out the sweat in your skin, other than turning your brain into an irritated mush. You groaned while taking off your top and throwing it on the floor. You wanted to cry out loud to blow off some of the unbearable heat but stopped short at the sight of that overcoat coming off. Followed by that black shirt. Muscles. No matter how he moved or what he did, his back lived in that moment to tease you with those muscles. And what was that? Sparkles? No, sweat, glistening in the dim light. Wait, why was it glisten- You looked around and realised the lamps were at their wick's end. "Same," you sighed as you looked back at Loki's back, only to find him turned around to face you. "Oh, Gods!" you jumped down from the drawer with quite the surprise in your eyes. "This is your first time seeing me shirtless?" It almost felt like he was genuinely curious. "What? No! I don't know. That wasn't the-look!" You signalled him to come closer and let your hand hang right above the drawer's top that touched the two corners of the wall. Loki mirrored you and realised it instantly. "That's a cold breeze." He looked at you with pupils expanding wide in that dim lighting. Taking over from there, he tried his best to get a look as to which section of the wall it was coming from. "There's an opening-" he immediately shifted his position to standing parallel to the length of the wall, his hands grounded on the varnished top- "we will have to either pull it-" he tried his best but the structure did not budge- "or push it towards the opening in that section." You got to work as well, standing next to him and giving your end of the small corner a good push that only ended up in failed grunts. "Okay, let's try another way," you inhaled, "I'll push the top, you be the bottom."

The drone was sitting on the drawer now, capturing all those failed attempts from every angle both of you thought possible before you nearly collapsed due to lack of air. "We're are clearly doing something wrong here," Loki huffed, his puffed-up chest, the centre of the camera's frame. You flipped your wet hair to show your tired face in the lone lamp that burned in the room. "There weren't any more of those BDSM chains inside it, were there?" Loki's breathing stopped for a moment. You looked at him for an answer. Both of you moved to open the drawers. The drone captured the disappointment in your own IQ in high definition before watching you both taking them out with nothing but pure spite. "Take a break, I'll try-" "No," you shook your head and wiped the forehead sweat, "let's do it together." Loki wanted you to stop but that you gave him was more than adequate to let anyone know you won't listen right now. "This time you stand behind me and let's use the wall behind as a supp....ort? Wait how is this room looking shorter?" You were looking around in dazed confusion while Loki closed his eyes. "It's not a normal room. Those two walls will keep closing in until..." He didn't have to say more. "Well, then what are we waiting for?" the drop of panic in your high pitched voice was evident as you positioned yourself- putting your palms on the edge. "Come on." Loki came to stand behind you, copying your position, just a bit more charismatically- and with a bit more skin- till he felt your hair come into his mouth. "One, two, three!" This time the push did budge the drawer chest a bit but your strength had been used for that movement of a centimetre. Your breaths almost felt like your lungs were on the verge of crying. "Again," you panted, wiping the sweat beads from your forehead while positioning your hands on a surface where the drone was seemingly recording you from. Loki looked at your back, clearly concerned. This time he used his hand to remove those clammy hair strands coming in his way before both arms mimicked your position and came to rest on either side of your arms. "Are you sure?" Loki's voice, breathless and heavy, questioned you with sincerity while his body did not budge from behind you. You nodded. "Again." The frame caught you adjusting your hips to position your butt right with his front- something that was not covered by the camera. He towered over you, adjusting to your height while grounded his arms on the surface. "Okay then," he whispered, taking one arm to move your butt a little closer to your frame before going back to anchor himself to the surface, "here we go." Both of you had your eyes stuck on the wall with a fiery gaze and an aura that would have burned this place to the ground. His muscles tried to take all that you could not. And just when the grunts were turning into screams, the drawer started to move from its place with a screeching noise. As soon as Loki noticed a decent enough opening in the wall to your and his side, he pushed you and himself in through the opening before the death walls came for your limbs. The drone fly followed. Both of you rolled through what seemed like a tunnel slide through the walls for a minute till that just did not seem to end. It did end though. It ended in a noisy fall of thuds and groans- you on top of him. "You okay?" you winced through your broken voice, not moving a muscle for the fear of breaking something. Also because it was awkward lying over him on your stomach. Loki replied with a quick wince. A ruffle came from next to you. Followed by a lazy groan. Your head turned to the noise. So did Loki's. "You two could have easily waited for another hour." The drone swerved around to bonk into the one that was already there, covering the dungeons. There under the rugged blanket, laid Carol Danvers, looking at the two of you with sleepy eyes. Neither of you knew what to say. She looked at her watch and put her head inside the blanket again. "Five more minutes."

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i-see-no-whump-up-here · 4 years ago

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Whumpmas in July (Day 9): "Look at Me"

A full 3 days late, I'm rolling up with this drabble, @whumpmasinjuly . I did my best. This lovely drabble has betrayal, as well as a little stabby stab.

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Emmett’s skull seared with pain as he clawed his way back to consciousness. He raised his hand to clutch at his head, but it never found his forehead. He tried his other hand, and that one wasn’t cooperating either. He grunted quietly and kept his eyes clothes, not willing to face the burning light surely waiting for him. His whole body ached. He searched his brain for a moment, and then he remembered why.

Driving to interview someone… the light was green… then a car slamming head-on into the passenger side… Charlie! They were driving. Where was Charlie?!

Emmett’s eyes flew open. He gasped in pain at the sudden light and blinked rapidly, trying to clear them. He managed to get some sort of image in his vision, and that’s when he realized when he didn’t have his hands. They were tied behind his back, and he sat in a chair in an empty room. It looked like a normal room in a normal house, based on the plaster walls, but plastic drop cloth covered the floor. That meant they planned to kill him or at least make him bleed somehow, and they intended not to leave evidence. They were professionals.

A man sat in a foldable chair in the corner, and now that Emmett was clearly awake, he watched him boredly. Then, he tucked his phone in his pocket and left the room. He took the chair with him. They put a guard over him to make sure he didn’t escape, so he was probably just grabbing someone else.

If Emmett was clever enough, maybe he could get them to reveal if Charlie was here. Hopefully they were less injured, since the car hit Emmett’s side and whoever this was wanted him alive, so they probably kept them alive too.

The doorknob turned again soon after, but he’d had enough time to brainstorm tricks to gather information. Every single one flew out of his mind when Charlie stepped through the door.

They weren’t bound. They weren’t being held at gun point. They weren’t upset, or even hurt, save for a few cuts on their face. Emmett’s confusion squashed his initial wave of relief. He barely registered the two men flanking them.

“Your eyes look like they’re going to pop out of your head,” Charlie commented calmly. Emmett untangled his tongue and got his mouth to move.

“Are you okay? What’s going on?” Emmett asked. Charlie’s lip twitched.

“I’m fine, now. I thought that car crash would kill you, but alas, here you are,” Charlie crossed their arms. Emmett’s brain stirred his groggy thoughts around, searching for explanations.

“You don’t seem happy to see me,” Emmett noted. Where was the sense of happiness that always accompanied his partner? Charlie waved their hand.

“Yeah. I thought you’d be dead, and I’d catch a break, but you were determined… as usual,” Charlie said. Emmett’s frown grew deeper. They seemed to be working just fine, so Charlie shouldn’t need a break from him. The investigation was making progress, and they’d just recently broken through some tough roadblocks. Did he miss a mistake he made?

“I’m here, Charlie. I’m okay. Get me out of these, and we can get out of here,” Emmett said. His head hurt and he wanted to go home. Maybe he could think clearly there. Although, he probably needed to stop by medical for his obvious concussion.

Charlie snorted. “What? No. No… you’re here for life, Em. At least for what’s left of it.”

Emmett watched them, still trying to understand. Mind control wasn’t a real thing, and if someone blackmailed his partner, they’d find a way to tell him, so he racked his brain for other explanations. Charlie waited a few moments for them to figure it out but quickly grew impatient. They had always been the impatient one…

“I’m with them, dumbass,” Charlie snapped. A ball lodged in Emmett’s throat. ‘Them’ could technically be any number of criminal groups, but based on their investigative focus and how long they’d been around…

“You’re a Finelli. You have been this whole time,” Emmett breathed. He was so stupid. He let them into his house— his home. They were partners. They lived and breathed and fought together for the last three years. “So none of it was real?”

“Nope,” Charlie said, popping the ‘p’. Emmett shook his head. He knew his emotions needed to wait until later, so he’d try to push them down, but they forced their way to the surface. Appealing to Charlie’s emotions would be his best hope.

“What about all the times we saved each other? All the times we watched each other’s backs? That was real connection, Charlie. We’re partners,” Emmett insisted.

“You’re a nuisance,” Charlie said, and they might as well have smacked Emmett. “I hated every moment of this dumb mission.”

“Even the carpool karaoke? The- the stakeouts?” Emmett asked. It was a dumb habit to single out, but it was all that he could bring to mind. Those were his favorite moments with them. Charlie strode toward him, producing a knife as they walked. The blade rested against his throat.

“Especially the karaoke. In fact, I think I’ll cut out your voice box… keep it as a souvenir of this miserable mission. A little prize for all the torture I had to endure.”

Emmett tried to lean his head away. After all they’d been through… all the late nights going through evidence and the drunken ubers home… he blinked rapidly.

“He’s crying already?” A voice cut in— one of the men who had entered with them.

“He cries really easily. I’ve spent at least $200 on dry cleaning just because he kept getting snot on my suit jackets.”

“But you- you cried on my shoulder too…”

“I didn’t want you to get suspicious. The one time I did it.. I wasn’t upset about Brian’s death. I was the one who killed him.”

“What?!”

“They were getting too close, so the boss called it,” Charlie shrugged. The coroner declared Brian’s death as natural— a heart attack. Charlie must’ve somehow induced it. Emmett wondered what else Charlie had done— what else had they destroyed? Had other incidents been their making?

“Do you regret it? Surely you must feel something… for me at least?”

They stared at Emmett, and there seemed to be a hesitation there— a glimmer. Emmett kept going. ”I care about you. I know my family does, too. Is this really what you want, Charlie?” Charlie’s knife came away from their neck a little, and Emmett watched them hopefully. “There’s still a chance to change this. I’ll help you.” Charlie’s hand fell away from Emmett’s neck, and he straightened back up. Charlie adjusted their grip on the knife, and Emmett glanced at the guards near them.

Emmett carefully considered his next words and opened his mouth. Then, the knife plunged into his shoulder. Emmett screamed. The moment he could think again, he realized he heard laughter. Charlie was laughing.

“Ah, man. I got you. Whoo!” They hunched over and then checked that the other two guards also found this funny. They forced laughter. “You really thought you were what… appealing to my humanity?”

Emmett tucked this chin in and stared intently at the room’s corner. There were a few cracks in the trimming, and they quickly became interesting.

“No, Em. As much as I hate the term, I’m a full-on psychopath. I don’t get petty feelings like that.” A short paise, and then a hand grabbed his chin.

“Look at me.” Emmett ignored the command. The grip tightened, and Charlie dragged his chin upward. Emmett closed their eyes.

“Look. At. Me.” Charlie’s other hand grabbed the knife, and they drove it in deeper. Emmett whimpered, but he kept his eyes closed.

“Why?” He managed.

“Because Boss wants to make an example of you— discourage other cops from taking up the case after us. You’re going to die slowly, and painfully, and you might as well do it with dignity.”

Emmett huffed in pain. “Ah, so you do care.”

“No,” Charlie corrected. “I just don’t want it to be boring. Are you so cowardly that you can’t even face me?” Emmett shook their head. It wasn’t that they couldn’t face death, or even pain. They knew a terrible death might come from this investigation, and they were surprised they’d made it nearly four years without that. But this person— this person that they let into their life and their home and their trust. They wouldn’t forgive themselves for being so blind. Charlie dug their nails into his chin. It stung his soul as much as his skin.

“Open your eyes, or your daughter dies next.” Emmett couldn’t risk it. Even if it hurt, he needed to keep Mylie safe. He owed her that, after letting this monster take her to school and attend her dance recitals. His eyes cracked open. Charlie grinned.

“Perfect. Let’s begin.”

#too sick of tumblr's shit to figure out formatting #wij21day9 #whumpmasinjuly #whumper #betrayal #detectives #emmett grant #charlie #detective whumpee #whumpee #stabbing #captured #my writing #my oc #my ocs #writing

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pl-panda · 4 years ago

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To Marry a Vigilante: Part 2

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

Disclaimer: Masterlist

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The day before Christmas… was a nightmare. Marinette had to admit that Damian was right. Her parents volunteered to help Alfred in the kitchen. The butler tried to argue, but his fighting with Sabine was an unstoppable force meeting an unmovable object. In the end, they got a compromise that the baker couple would help that day, but would be banned from the kitchen for the rest of Christmas.

The boys meanwhile were ordered to decorate the house and prepare the formal dining room. And it was a mess. First, Dick and Jason spent almost an hour arguing over the decorations, only to then see that Mari and Damian already decorated the room with the merchandise Damian somehow got imported from Paris without their knowledge. Jason tried to dismantle the decorations that were put up without a warning, but it ended with Damian chasing him with a sword… again. It didn’t help that Todd kept riling the youngest Wayne up. Technically second-youngest since he was older than Marinette by a few months, but that’s beyond the point.

Then, when Jason ended up with a slight limp after he crashed into a cupboard when trying to cut the corner and Damian’s bloodthirst got satisfied, it was time for decorating the Christmas tree. When Mari saw the tree, she almost toppled over. It was put in the hall before the stairway to the second floor. It was tall enough to almost reach the ceiling.

“That’s your tree?”

“In my defense, I tried to order a smaller one. It’s not my fault they gave size in the metric system.” Tim argued.

“If you cut on coffee and instead got some sleep once in a while, maybe you would’ve noticed.” Jason snickered.

Dick took the opportunity to climb upstairs and start decoration, only to be caught by Steph, who proceeded to decorate on the other side. Seeing the two already started, the three other boys also raced to start putting decorations. It was a mess, but somehow Marinette found it endearing. It felt… homey. Then she grabbed some decorations and joined Damian. Then she teamed up with Steph to make a large bat symbol on one side out of gold tinsel garland. Then she made a red ‘R’ inside it.

And this time nobody got hurt.

After that, Dick and Jason left for their respective homes. Tim and Steph left shortly after, leaving Damian and Mari alone with the adults. Technically, Cass also stayed at the manor, but unless she wanted to be seen, only Alfred (and now Sabine) could find her.

The teens decided to stay in the Manor. Marinette was dead set on making everyone their gifts by hand. She brought several unfinished designs that could be adjusted. Damian was kind enough to collect the measurements for each family member from Alfred.

And so Mari then spent all evening in her room, where she worked on adjusting and finishing everything. She was beyond grateful that her room was already equipped with a sewing machine and anything else she would need to make the gifts. The whole time Damian sat nearby to offer some advice. Mostly, he just enjoyed watching her work on the designs.

“Do you think putting a Red Robin logo on this tie would be too much?” She asked, showing a red tie with black accents. It had a meticulous black stitch going through the narrow part. It spelled MDC over and over.

“Maybe put it inside, so that it only shows when he put it upside-down,” Damian answered.

“But then nobody will see it.”

“There is a bigger chance someone sees it than if it’s on the front.” The boy deadpanned.

“Don’t be mean.” She scolded him, but her pearly laughter kinda ruined it. She put the tie away and reached for the sunglasses she was working on. They used to be black, but she tinted the glass deep-red and then added details at the side. Now, there was a small silver bullet-shaped decoration where they would fold. She had a case ready where she stitched the shape of a red handgun at the top of black leather.

“And this?”

“Habibti. They will definitely love your gifts.” He gave her a soft smile. “If not, I will introduce them to my sword” He muttered, hoping she would not hear it.

“Damian!” She shouted. His hopes went in flames. “No murdering people!”

“Can I at least maim?” He asked with a hopeful voice.

“Hm… only if you ask me before.” She giggled at his expression.

“I think it is high time I retreat to my bedroom. It’s almost midnight, Angel. Go to sleep.” He stood up and walked outside, only to be met with Sabine’s judging eyes. She watched him carefully before smiling slightly.

“Good. You can go. I will tuck her in.”

After she passed him, Damian let out a breath he didn’t know he held. That woman was scary.

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The next morning was still hectic, but no longer so chaotic. Mari spent half of it locked in her room giving the designs final touches. She did not let Damian or her parents in since she focused on their gifts and didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Alfred was the only one who got a peek inside and he didn’t even fear Sabine, so the chances he would tell anything to anyone were less than Joker genuinely apologizing to everyone he ever hurt.

Finally, around midday, Marinette finally revealed herself. The room was a mess of cut fabric, loose papers, and Kwami knows what else. There was also a bowl of water in the corner.

“That was a race.” She commented before grabbing Damian’s hand and dragging him into the living room to share a tea and cookies. All adults cooed.

“So, Habibti. Care to reveal what you made for me?” The boy asked hopefully once they were both sitting side-by-side on the two-people couch. She held a cup of steaming tea while Damian put his in a small cup holder while he was eating a cookie.

“Nope.” She grinned. “But I can tell you that you will like it.”

“From you? I will like any gift.” He answered smoothly.

“Stop it!” She squealed, blushing heavily. “You can’t say things like that out of the blue.”

“Why?” He asked, giving her a barely noticeable smile.

“I can’t go around blushing all the time!”

“But you look so cute with red cheeks.”

“You don’t look so bad either, Mi Amor,” she retorted. She wanted to get some reaction from him, but he only smiled slightly more.

They rested, cuddled together for a bit, enjoying the silence that surrounded them. It was interrupted when suddenly Cass dropped out of the blue. Or from the ceiling, but they would’ve sworn she was not there before.

“You… Cousin?” The girl asked.

“Oh! You must be Cassandra!” Mari recognized her. Cass was maybe her height. She was dressed in workout clothes. “Nice to meet you. I’m Marinette.”

“Marinette,” Cass repeated. “Call me Cass. Everyone does.”

“Um… Sure. You can call me Mari if you like?” Both Damian and Cass grinned at that, much to the french girl’s confusion. “Did I miss some joke?”

“No, Angel. It’s just that Grayson’s daughter is named Mar’i” Damian looked at his beloved’s expression.

“Oh. Oh…” The realization dawned on her. “Well, then what about… Nettie?”

“Nettie… Like it.” Cass responded.

“Cass doesn’t speak much.” The boy took it upon himself to explain. “She first learned to communicate through body gestures.”

“Maman told me. I can’t believe aunt Sandra left you with that monster. Maman told her some things though, so maybe next time you two meet she will apologize.”

“Mother… Apologize… Me?” The girl asked in disbelief.

“Maman is a very persuasive person.”

Cass didn’t speak about that, but a memory of the hug two of them shared yesterday surfaced at the top of her thoughts.

“Anyway, you wanted to get to know me? Well… um… I’m fifteen, soon to be sixteen. I love fashion and design and I make almost all of my clothes. I also practice some martial arts in my free time. I love sketching outdoors. There is this small park next to my parent’s bakery that I love to visit. In the past, I adored the works of Gabriel brand, but after the owner turned out to be a major bastard I kinda decided to just stick to my own stuff. What else… I prefer tea to coffee unless I need to pull an all-nighter, my favorite sweets are macarons and my uncle named his soup after me when he won the cooking competition.”

“Soup… good?” Cass decided to ask.

“Oh! It’s the best. Actually, maybe we could ask uncle Wang to cook for our wedding, Dami! Can we? He would be invited anyway but then people would get to…”

“Of course, Habibti.” Damian interrupted her.

“Wedding?” Cass had more questions.

“Oh… Um… You didn’t know?” Marinette doubled back. “Of course you didn’t know. Damian tried to keep it down and I ruined it. Please don’t tell anyone. I’m so sorry Dami! I forgot! I was just so…”

Damian, following the usual routine when Mari started to panic, pulled her to his chest, and hugged her. He whispered something low enough for Cassandra not to hear. She did notice the couple’s body language. Devotion and love.

When Marinette finally calmed, Damian let her out of his embrace. “Thanks. I still keep some of my… less desirable habits.”

“It’s no problem. At least I have an excuse to cuddle with you without my brothers’ merciless teasing.”

“Wedding.” Cass urged them. Her curiosity was peaking.

“Ah! Right. So basically Talia kidnapped me and decided I would marry her son and then we both woke up tied before the altar and she threatened to kill us and our families if we didn’t go through with it. And I was so scared back then. And T… And I had no way to do anything else.”

Cass saw her tense and stopped herself. There was more to it, but she didn’t drill. She would learn later. Or just get it out of Tim. He knew everything.

“Well, now we’re stuck and there is this weird spell on us that makes it impossible to cheat on one another. At least I assume it works both ways since Damian didn’t test it.” There was no doubt in her voice and her body showed complete trust. Cass was actually impressed.

“The bitch that my mother is,” Marinette wanted to scold Damian on the language he used, but then again, he spoke about Talia so he wasn’t lying, “used some old curse on us, probably from the time my grandfather was still young. We are tied together. But we made it work.”

“Magic… bad.” Cass scoffed.

“No!” Mari quickly protested. “I mean not all magic is bad. It all depends on who uses it! Besides, everything turned out better than I could’ve ever hoped.”

“Good. I… Like you.” Her cousin smiled. “Hug?” She asked.

“Sure.” Marinette nodded and before she knew it Cass tackled her into the couch, almost breaking her bones.

“Oooh!” a new voice cooed. Damian immediately whirled around with a small dagger that he pulled from wherever he kept it. Selina Kyle was standing there, watching everything.

“Tt. I don’t like being spied upon.” Damian scowled.

“Relax, lover-boy. I just came and I was curious where everyone went and who were the new people.”

“Oh. That’s probably my parents. Alfred kicked them out of the kitchen today. They will probably be relaxing in the garden since they rarely have a chance to just relax. They run a bakery in Paris.” Mari smiled at the newcomer.

“Really now? And you’re the unlucky girl that got stuck with the short, dark, and brooding?”

“Tt. I’m not short.”

“I don’t hear you arguing about the dark and brooding part.” Selina teased.

“Angel, meet my father’s fiancée, Selina Kyle. She is also Catwoman.”

“Oh. She is in on the family business then?”

“Tt. Yes. I don’t keep things hidden from my wife.” Damian kept scowling.

“Aren’t you a dutiful husband?”

“I’m not afraid to defend my wife’s honor with a sword, thief.” The boy threatened. Selina measured him for a moment.

“Good.” She turned to Marinette. “He will do. If he is causing you trouble, you can crash at my place.” She gave her a small square paper with an address before leaving.

“Um… What was that?”

“Tt. That was Selina for you.” Damian was still in a bad mood until Marinette snuggled closer to him.

------------

Around five, the guests started arriving. It was unanimously decided that the youngest couple would be the ones to greet their guests. And looking at the size of the table, there would be more guests than Mari assumed. Damian was now dressed in a flawless black suit with a matching bowtie and a white shirt. Mari chose to wear the red dress that she knew left Damian speechless every time he saw her. Her hair was let go and formed waves cascading down her back.

Jason was first. He came on his bike alone. While everyone dressed in something elegant, he opted for an oil-stained t-shirt and brown leather jacket, complete with black cargo pants and heavy boots. Marinette had to admit he gave a bad-boy vibe that told her to stay away. But she’s seen this with Ivan and she was pretty sure Jason was, in fact, a big softie once one got to know him.

Next to arrive were Tim and Stephanie. She wore a black and purple knee-length dress. It had no sleeves and hugged her form tightly. The design was several large squares of material sewn together so no two colors were the same. It was an interesting design. Tim wore a blue suit with black accents and a white shirt. They looked like a nice couple. And the boy looked almost awake, which was a success. Also, they were dragging a giant bag of gifts.

Shortly after, a small van pulled close and five people exited. There was an older couple, a joyful boy around their age jumping around them, and two people Marinette recognized instantly. You couldn’t hang around Alya and not recognize Clark Kent and Lois Lane-Kent.

“Tt. Jon.” Damian greeted the boy.

“Sup Dames? Hello fair lady.” He greeted them, happiness almost oozing from him. Jon went as far as kissing her hand.

“Could you stop with the flowers and rainbows?” Wayne growled.

“But it’s Christmas!”

“Tt. I know.” Damian was angry. Seeing it, his beloved grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly.

“Hello Mr. Kent, Mrs. Lane-Kent.” Marinette greeted the adults, hoping to diffuse the situation before Damian gets too riled up.

“You must be Marinette. I remember Jon mentioning you when we talked about his trip to Paris.” Clark smiled. He then nodded toward the older couple. “These are my parents, Johnathan and Martha Kent.”

“It’s nice to meet ya, girl.” The man nodded toward her.

“Hi. I’m Marinette.” She gave them a smile. Just as the Kents went inside, another car pulled in.

This time, it was Dick with his wife, Kor’i, and daughter Mar’i. They all got out of the car.

“I still don’t understand why you insist on driving this thing. I could’ve flown us here twice as fast.” The woman had distinctively orange skin and her eyes were entirely green. Marinette instantly recognized her as Starfire. She wore a white shirt with bell-like sleeves that reached to her elbows and blue jeans that ended just above her ankles. Dick had a dark-gray shirt and jeans. She would classify their outfits as smart casual.

“Yeah, daddy! I can fly too!” To prove her point, the little girl rose a bit into the air. She was dressed in an oversized purple jumper that reached to the ground. She also wore white trainers. Her skin was less orange than her mother’s but the color was easily visible. And her eyes were also entirely green without any white. And she was flying. Her hair was black though, as opposed to her mother’s fiery red.

“Sweety. Come here.” Kor’i reached up and grabbed the floating daughter. The girl immediately nuzzled into her and smiled victoriously. She got exactly what she wanted. Marinette couldn’t help but giggle.

“Tt. I still find her annoying.” Damian scowled.

“I don’t know, she looks cute to me. And you already admitted that you love cute things.” To make things worse for her love, Marinette gave him puppy eyes and a bright smile. He tried to scowl, but couldn’t muster enough strength to oppose his wife.

Dick almost tripped over the car when he started laughing.

Since they were the last to arrive, Marinette and Damian returned inside to join everyone for festivities.

----------

Somewhere else, in a much darker place, a lone figure stood in an empty room. His clothes were dirty and torn. The light entered only through a small window.

“So you see? It was all a set-up!” He shouted.

From the shadows, another figure joined.

“But of course, sweetie. Of course.” They said in a patronizing tone. “I will of course help you.”

“You understand me. And what about… Marinette?”

“I don’t understand your obsession with her, but I can share.”

“Whatever. She will be mine!”

----------

Masterlist // Next

#damienette #Damian Wayne #Damian al Ghul #marinette dupain cheng #marinette x damian #maribat #maridami #arranged marriage AU #guardian!marinette #batman #maribat au #evil!adrien

175 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

WINSoD - Pt.6

...We Both Will Drop

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2, part 3)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 4820

Summary: In which the mission to retrieve stones is on and you and Steve arrive to Vormir. Some things are simply... inevitable.

Warnings: (we all know what’s coming don’t we), blood and violence, character death, mentions of suicide, language

A/N: Don’t blame me, it’s the large scheme and shit. *runs and hides in a middle of nowehere*

Part 5

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Everyone on the team had been through having their heart broken at least once; hell, find one of humankind who hadn’t. After the Snap, it was an impossible task; even children, when asked, felt like something was missing to them, feeling a deeply-embedded longing they couldn’t quite comprehend. Surely, they wouldn’t use such big words, having only been five years old now, but the sentiment was all the same.

And when all humanity felt like that, there was little space for hope.

However, the hope that barely started to take roots in the team when they figured out a way to unlimitedly travel in time and space, grew rapidly when Natasha winced in a middle of summarizing the plan once more; only to reveal that the source of pain was… insane.

It was a tattoo-like message on her collarbone.

She had received a new set of words. And they happened to be written in Sam Wilson’s handwriting, a sentence little snarky and little sappy and… no one blamed Scott for asking the question that itched everyone on the tip of their tongue.

“So… that means we succeed, right? And they meet again, more or less for the first time? I mean, we already saw a case like that.”

Despite the cold shiver running up your spine, your heart was wrapped in a fluffy warmth at that thought. It would be worth it. The sacrifice made will be worth it.

You swiftly dried the tear forming in the corner of your eye at the memory of Natasha’s reluctant but bright smile before Steve could notice. You followed him as he climbed towards the peak of which your instincts told you was exactly the place to go.

He was gallantly helping you to follow without a single ‘I told you so,’ even when you slipped and nearly face-planted. Instead, he smiled at you tenderly, concern furrowing his brow, but not once he complained about you being a liability instead of the help you were supposed to provide.

Vormir was an inhospitable planet. All built of rocks, with icy wind, sweeping snowflakes into your face and you were grateful for your gloves and Steve’s broad shoulders that shielded you at least partly.

Finally reaching a plateau, you were welcomed by a creature floating above the surface; his face red, a bald scalp, head stripped to a bone with nearly no skin, muscles or fat, partly hidden by a hood of his tattered cloak.

You never liked studying history, but even you knew who this was – or who he seemed to be. If Steve’s face and posture was anything to go by, he thought the same.

But that couldn’t be, right? The Red Skull had died- disappeared when touching an Infinity Stone. Would it really be so crazy if he was still connected to one?

“Steven, son of Sarah,” the peculiar creature welcomed your soulmate with a hiss, repeating a greeting of similar nature with you, only showing off he knew your father’s name, not mother’s like with Steve, and obviously calling you a daughter.

Which wasn’t creepy at all.

“You-“ Steve only growled and was already lunging at the man, only for his body to go through him as if the figure was nothing but a unsubstantial illusion.

You yelped in fright for Steve, but he didn’t even fall to the ground, his training preparing him for more surprising situations that his opponent being immaterial.

The Red Skull appeared to be annoyed at Steve’s antics at best; he didn’t make any attempt at attacking either him or you, only watching you with freakily knowing gaze as if he already learned your purpose here. Which was impossible, right?

But was it?

“Steve… I don’t think we need to fight him,” you whispered, averting the piercing glare of the Skull on you.

Steve looked at you as if you were crazy and threw himself on the cloaked figure again; shockingly, with the very same result.

It was an irony for God’s pleasure, you guessed, Steve fighting an old enemy, an enemy that couldn’t be defeated it seemed. Funny metaphor of his life no one laughed at; certainly not you.

Feeling two pairs of eyes on you now, you shivered.

“You don’t, indeed,” the Skull howled over the wind that picked up. “I know why you’re here and I only act as a guide. No matter how much I’d like to go another round with you, Captain, that is all I am.”

Steve snarled, but didn’t come after him again, stopping in mid-motion when you gently placed a hand of his shoulder. He ended up only leaning forward, ready to strike, shield in his hand.

He was handsome even with the scowl on his face, you thought absently and quickly brushed it off, scolding yourself for such ideas at a time like this. But why wouldn’t you let your mind wander into such territory? At the moment, you felt strangely detached from the whole scene in front of you. You wondered if that would change or if you could fulfil your purpose with your soul at peace.

“Then guide us,” Steve hissed, protectively standing between you and the Red Skull.

“Careful what you wish for, Captain.”

You followed the floating figure towards the edge of the plateau, stopping several feet from a bottomless gulf.

You closed your eyes when the vertigo overtook you, the crushing weight of your mission causing you to sway. Steve allowed you to lean onto his body, your palm sprawled across his chest, and he pulled you even farther from the edge into safer distance.

“Why are you showing us this?”

“Because that is the face of destiny you’re staring into,” your guide explained, a smirk forming on his face. Steve instantly let you go in favour to brace himself for the fight to come. Except you already knew it wouldn’t come; not the fight Steve was readying himself for. “I’m not gonna push either of you, Captain. You manage that on your own.”

“What makes you think we would ever do that?”

“The fact that it’s what we need to do to get the Stone,” you answered quietly to the question Steve had spitted out, earning a horrified glance from him.

“Indeed. A Soul Stone is a special entity. To get a hold of it, you must sacrifice a soul. You have found yourself a smart wife, Captain, for she knows this. Too bad she won’t be able to make it back.”

“Over my dead body,” Steve snarled and for a good measure grabbed your hand and dragged you away from the floating figure.

“That certainly is an option too.”

“Fuck. You. Liar!” Steve snapped at him and not even his anger moved you this time. Anger was good. Anger was familiar and in a pleasant contrast to your serenity returning.

“Am I? Or does your team have another explanation for Gamora’s death? Never in my lifetime I thought I’d see a Titan shed tears…” the Skull mused.

Steve’s eyes met yours as he faced you and what he saw in them must have shook him to a core, because his face lost all colour, his irises flashing with rage and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“He’s a slippery bastard, doll. I don’t trust one word-“

Denial. The other thing you saw in his eyes was denial.

“I do,” you breathed out softly, tears finally appearing in your eyes as your scarily high walls that had kept you detached from the whole ordeal came slowly crumbling down. “Thanos arrived here with whom he considered his daughter. And she didn’t make it back.”

Your heart skipped a beat, startled when Steve’s large palms gripped your shoulders and shook you.

“He’s tricking us, that’s what he does! Don’t let him play with your head,” he thundered, his fingers digging into your muscle even through your thick coat, strong enough to bruise.

Swallowing thickly as Steve stared at you, pleading, determined and still unwilling to accept the reality laid in front of him. You forced yourself not to avert his gaze when you responded in a whisper, a sound nearly lost in the howling wind.

“You know he’s telling the truth, Steve.”

You felt hollow. The cold started to seep through your clothing, or maybe it was coming from the inside, leaving your fingers and nose freezing in a desperate attempt to warm your torso up.

Steve’s hands slid from your shoulders as if they lost all strength, his own shoulders slumping, light shake of his head when he turned away from you, fingers plunging in his hair for the shortest of moments before facing you again.

You could see the shift in his attitude; you could see the fight vaporizing from his body, all harshness dissolved and blossoming into tenderness you didn’t deserve at the moment.

Yet you let him touch you, eyelids fluttering shut at the sensation, ignoring the weight in your stomach and letting yourself indulge the kindness of his touch. A lightest brush of fingers along your jaw, over your cheekbones, the pad of is thumb running over your no doubt purple lips.

He was committing himself to a memory of you and you loved him for it more than you could put into words, warm tears escaping from under your eyelids. He was a good man. Once again, he understood what had to be done and that for some reason, God seemed to hate him, asking him to sacrifice his own happiness in favour of others. He had to let you go.

“Then I go,” he breathed out and you snapped your eyes open, startled.

Of course, he got it wrong.

God, you were such an idiot, you should have known.

You threw your arms around him, tight embrace he didn’t fight, burying his face in your neck instead.

“We both know I can’t let you do that, Steve,” you negotiated, allowing the harshness of your attitude – read, thinking he was being utterly stupid – into your voice. He didn’t seem to mind, breathing in deeply, melting into your frame and you knew it was time to act before he could.

You managed to sneak one arm lower, around his waist instead. He just adjusted the hug, his lips brushing your cheek, angrily red from the whips by the biting cold.

“I love you, sweetheart. You were right. You had to come here with me,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard your protest and you squeezed your eyes shut, more burning tears rolling down your cheeks. Fuck, how much you hated this. “You’ll get the Stone back, yeah? And you live a life. Buck, Sam, Ryan, Pietro… they’ll be back and take care of you. They all love you too. Hey, you might even get a third soulmark-”

“Steve-“ you couldn’t help but growl at his dickish words.

“Shh, doll. It’s all going to be okay. “

Moving your hands over his back as he rubbed to-be-soothing circles on your own, your trembling fingers got a hold of what you were looking for in one of the pockets on his belt. You were a terrible actress, even worse spy, but here you were, succeeding in the worst mission you had ever been given; not that there had been many to compete with.

God sucked as a boss and clearly was short off staff if he was sending the king of Hell as his messenger.

You buried your face in Steve’s chest, basking in the warmth he was radiating, the irreplaceable sensation of safety and content his arms around you offered, something you would miss immensely.

“Promise?” you mumbled, choking on a sob, the hatred for yourself deeper than ever in your life.

You needed that promise. What did it matter Steve didn’t know what he was promising? You had no clue what was awaiting you; he couldn’t either. But he was a good man, you had learned that in thousands different ways through your years together.

“Promise.”

“…it’s going to be okay,” you repeated after him and he squeezed you tighter, as much as you squeezed the object in your palm.

“One for the road?” he mumbled, voice shaky, never letting you to answer him before his lips found yours, thirsty and demanding, breathing your soul in, leaving you feel floaty. You nibbled at his lower lip in response, low growl rumbling in his chest, echoing against your own ribcage, the kiss consuming your whole being.

One for the road, your mind parroted dreamily and you instinctively melted into Steve’s frame, indulging the last kiss of your lifetime.

Christ, that fact alone caused your chest to constrict with blinding panic, your tears like waterfalls.

You inhaled shakily as Steve withdrew with a sigh, both of you turning to the Red Skull.

Steve stepped forward, never registering your little theft.

How could he?

He had been through so much, enough punches to his face and back-stabbing for a life-time. He had learned how to stay alert, to expect another blow at any moment. You could tell he was never letting go of that, not entirely, not even with his friends, no matter how it crushed his good soul, his faith in people. He was always ready to look for danger so he could avoid another stab in the back. But not with you.

Never with you.

Which had been exactly what you had relied on when you did what you did. The analogy with back-stabbing wasn’t even funny.

“Alright. What do I have to do?” Steve asked with determination, his voice only wavering enough for you to hear it, and the stone-keeper looked at him with one corner of his mouth raised in an evil cocky smirk.

Bastard. Enjoying this a little too much.

“You mourn, Captain,” he whispered and met your eyes as you subtly undone a part of your coat. He must have noticed then, unlike Steve. Or maybe he truly had known all along, even before you had come here.

Seeing Steve already spinning on his heels when he understood the guide was having a wordless conversation with you, you had no time to actually brace yourself before wrapping both of your hands around the handle and driving the blade into your torso.

No one had told you it would hurt like motherfucker, but no one had told you how loud Steve’s scream would seem even over the ringing in your ears either.

No one had warned you that pulling the blade away would be really fucking hard, impossible even. But you had lived in the impossible for the past eight years, hadn’t you? You tore it away with a grunt, shocked at the dull agony.

You had planned two stabs, just not to give Steve any ideas, but the blinding pain slowed your movements. Before the tip of the knife could as much as graze you skin for the second time, Steve was easily twisting it from your hold and throwing it away.

You watched the weapon clank on the stony surface of the plateau, leaving droplets of crimson in the snow, hypnotized by the contrast.

The moment Steve’s hands touched you, your knees gave away and the throbbing in the wound intensified as you nearly collapsed to the ground. But he was here – he was always here to catch you, strong arms supporting you and shakily helping you to sit down.

For the first time, you allowed yourself to tear your gaze away from the blood and look up at him. His face was drained of all colour – funny, yours must have too, mustn’t it? –, his expression pure horror, blue and green fighting in his terrified eyes.

“What did you do?” he demanded breathlessly. “Oh god, what did you do?!”

You would think it was obvious, but your head spun too much to point that out. Too many words to form. Too much work.

“Played my part,” you mumbled instead.

Inspecting the wound shortly, but very much painfully, Steve was fast to press against it and make you howl in agony. And shit, there was so much blood… who would have thought there would be so much so fast? It was strangely warm against your body, soon cooling off. The contrast was fascinating.

“Fuck- hey, hey, you’re going to be okay! Look at me!” Steve ordered and the commanding voice left your fingers tingling. Or was it the cold? “We’ll get you to the compound and then I’ll be back here, figuring it out, okay? Now, breathe with me and do not-“

You smiled at him kindly or at least you attempted it. He was a true fighter in heart, never giving up. That was why you had needed to injure yourself fatally, which he effectively attempted to avoid when disarming you. But the biting cold prevented your body from resisting the brutal intrusion. The fact you had pulled out the stopper out in attempt to stab again had probably helped.

A part of you was getting nauseous at such formulation, at being content at succeeding in… yeah, there was no euphemism for this, it was a fucking suicide. A different part yelled ‘good’, because that had been the plan.

What Steve was offering sounded so, so tempting. He would make sure to pamper you when you got to the compound, falling asleep in the chair, holding your hand, sitting guard by your bedside and you would be warm, feeling oh so immensely loved… but you couldn’t allow that.

You forced the next words out of your mouth while your brain yelled at you to just give in and nod instead.

“No. Steve… I’m already halfway gone. You need to throw me-“

“NO! No! Not a fucking option!“ he bellowed, his vision possibly gaining crimson edges of rage if his expression was anything to go by. It was swimming in front of your eyes, but even in his anger, he was so damn beautiful. A piece of art. Man too beautiful not to be sculptured by angels themselves. “What were you thinking?!”

I wasn’t thinking. God had. The King of Hell told me to do it. This way we win, you know?

“We both know I won’t make it there if you try to take me-“

“You will!“ he spat back stubbornly, his frame shaking and you suspected it wasn’t because of the temperature. No, either he was pissed off beyond belief or… or scared. Because he was well-aware of the fact you were right.

Your body started feeling like floating, your eyes turning to the sky on their own and you gritted your teeth, fighting it.

Not yet. Not fucking yet. Not until he knew this wasn’t on him, that this was something you simply had to do.

“Steve, Stevie- this is why I was resurrected. This is it. I go, so you could continue the mission, get the Stone back, fight whatever fight might come. I’m so sorry for this, but you know it has to be me.”

He looked at you with so much hurt in his eyes that you would have thought you stabbed him. He shook his head violently, trembling hands pushing harder against your wound and making you let out a sound way too close to a whine. You thought at least. The ringing in your ears was getting louder and the world was losing its colours… or was it like this the whole time, on this planet? You couldn’t remember…

Yet, you would swear that a crack in his conviction appeared on his face, one he swiftly disguised and shook off, determination replacing it as he fought the tears streaming down his face. You felt nothing but relief when you realized he started accepting the truth, started accepting what was happening. What had to happen.

“No. No, that’s not true.”

Your next words tasted bitter and dripped venom, but you said them anyway, a harsh reminder of your first goodbye. You hated yourself for speaking them; however, Steve had to understand.

“We’re out of time, Steve,” you mumbled, your tongue growing heavy, funny taste on it. “We’re always out of time.”

“Please, doll, not again, I can’t-“ The way he choked on his sob told you your shot found its target, the memory crushing his hope, slowly, but surely forcing him to resign. The calm you had felt when you arrived here returned, embracing you gently and you hoped your attempt at smile turned out decent.

“You can. You’re the brave-“ You hissed in pain as you wanted to straighten yourself just a bit, to be closer to him, instantly regretting not asking Steve to move you instead. Fuck, that hurt. “-bravest person I’ve ever met.”

“That’s bullshit-” he spitted out, but he helped you sit up straighter, allowing you to nearly drown in the pools of his irises.

God, he was so beautiful, even in his grief, eyes red-rimmed, his nose running. He was yours. Always yours, you knew as much.

“My hero-“

“I’m not a Captain for while, you know,” he chucked humourlessly, a glint of something you didn’t like displaying on his face. “Just let me take you-“

“Not the Captain,” you shook your head, lamenting yourself for muddling it up. Calling him your hero was a bad, very bad idea. But you couldn’t think anymore, your head was buzzing with too many thoughts, wrapped in sensation of endless pain radiating from your gut. “You, S-s-stevie. Now let me go.”

“NO!”

“If I d-die before-re you throw m-me-“ you negotiated, only to be interrupted by the creature you had completely forgotten was there as well.

“She’s right,” the Red Skull confirmed flatly.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Steve roared, not bothering to look at him as he gathered you in his arms, not without a serious wave of vertigo on your part. And pain. Fuck, always pain. Being stabbed fucking hurt.

He only stood, torn between the tinniest chance at your survival and doing the right thing. It was ridiculous and disgusting how much it reminded you of your first goodbye. Left, or right door? You or millions, this time?

“Doll-“

“’s okay, Stevie. I love you. Al-always. Br-- the edge. ‘d let go,” you breathed out, your words slurring as you were losing control. He must throw you soon. That sucked. You would like few more moments with him.

Or a lifetime. Kisses, cuddles, playful lovemaking, friends and kids… maybe you could adopt, or just keep trying…

Steve’s features twisted in denial, jaw clenched, but it did nothing to disguise the tremble in it. His eyes were squeezed shut, glittering drops of salty water escaping, your own waterfalls never stopping. You clenched your teeth with effort to raise your hand, bloody fingers caressing his smooth cheek.

“’s ‘kay.”

He shook his head desperately, but his grip grew firmer, his steps heavy as he carried you to the edge as if he was about to meet his own end.

You swallowed your own sobs.

You didn’t want to die. You wished you could say you were at peace, you had thought you were but you weren’t. Yet, you needed to convince Steve about the opposite – again.

Life was so fucking unfair.

If that was true though… was at least death just?

Your eyes flickered to the terrible chasm, vertigo taking over once more at the image of just how long the fall would last.

Endless seconds of free fall.

But it wouldn’t be the fall that would kill you, would it now? It would be the landing.

It was always the landing.

Hovering above the edge in Steve’s arms, his eyes turned up towards the colourful sky, as if he was trying to keep his tears at bay or simply couldn’t look at you. Seconds felt like hours. Like forever, even. It was obvious he couldn’t make himself let go.

Jesus fucking Christ, how could he, after all? You wouldn’t if in his place, your roles reversed.

“Down-“ you muttered lowly and he instantly obeyed with his gaze returning to you.

The gaze he focused on you would always be carved into your memory, even in death, you had no doubt. You never knew a man could say so much about the agony that was tearing him apart with one look, but here he was. Your Steve.

When he kneeled, lowering your body to the ground, his hold slacking a fraction, you knew it was time. You forced another teary smile, lips quivering, no longer able to tell if it was from pain, the cold seeping into your bones and core or simple fear.

What was waiting at the bottom? More pain or something else? Maybe the peace, finally? How would you be able to rest in peace though, knowing you were leaving Steve behind?

“S-so good t-to me,” you breathed out shakily, memorizing every feature, every wrinkle of laughter and worry, even as the darkness started eating out the edges of your vision. You needed to go, now. You gathered the last remnants of strength, bracing yourself. “Love ya’.”

Propping your palms against his chest, you pushed away from him, the feeling of the sudden lack of ground under your body dizzying.

Wind slapped your cheeks, freezing the tears in your eyes and cutting through the wound.

The gale carried Steve’s broken scream to your ears and you sent him one last whispered sorry.

The fall seemed to have no end. But for once, God was truly merciful; you didn’t feel the landing.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Seeing their past selves was strange to say at least and Natasha mused how long of a path they had all walked since the first assemble of the Avengers.

In a way, it carried hope too though. She had buried hope for her soulmate and lost friends a long time ago; but now it was back. They had retrieved the Stones from New York relatively smoothly – though Clint had got a bit perplexed at having his soul punched out of his body by the Sorcerer Supreme – and were on their way back to their time.

This mission was a pretty ambitious stretch from Budapest. She had told so to Clint and found herself honestly smiling at his burst of laughter after years of mourning. Some lives had been ruined, but others still remained; and the chances that what they had lost in the dust could be brought back had concrete outlines now; outlines visible on her own skin as well. Her chest ached, but her heart fluttered with the memory of her soulmate.

Her feet landed on the platform with a rather ungraceful thud, but she still managed to keep herself standing upright. One glance around was all she spent to check up on everyone; only to find two people missing.

Blood froze in her veins, the satisfied smile at completed mission slipping from her face as her heart changed its pace from excited to horrified.

No.

No, this was not how this was supposed to go! Everyone should have come back!

So why was one whole pair missing? Why-

Strangely enough, her horror only escalated when she noticed that it was in fact one person missing only; because the other was on the platform with them, closer to the ground that she had expected, stripped of the nano-suit, stealth suit darker as it was dripping water; pink as it mixed with crimson stains on his thighs and torso.

No.

Oh no.

This was not happening. It couldn’t. Not again.

Steve had fallen to his knees, hands by his side clenched in tight fists. Blankly staring ahead, not actually seeing anything in front of him, a smudge of red – three lines clearly drawn by bloody fingertips – on his cheek and his face free of any colour and emotion telling enough of a story; screaming a story, in fact.

Natasha’s insides twisted painfully and she nearly spilled the contents of her stomach. She recognized that look – she had seen it before on Steve. On herself in a mirror.

Tears stinging in her eyes, she took a shaky step towards him, her heart weeping and grieving for her friends.

“…Steve?” Bruce questioned lowly from behind the machine he had controlled, but it only filled the deadly silence.

They all already knew what happened – or understood enough.

The Stone giving away warm amber glow slipped from Steve’s palm, his fingers plunging in his hair and gripping tightly, pulling enough to make it hurt like hell no doubt.

Yet, Natasha was well-aware it did nothing to dull the deep visceral pain that overtook his whole being, swallowed his whole shattered soul.

A guttural moan left his lips as he curled into himself and she didn’t bother blinking away her tears anymore.

Nothing she could do would sooth his grief. Yet, she placed her trembling palm on Steve’s shoulder in attempt to ground him, to show him she was there for him.

A desperate shriek, a helpless cry loud enough to tear ear-drums and hearts, cut the thick air of the compound and the large frame of a supersoldier went limp, swaying aside.

Natasha didn’t try and stop the fall. God knew that he would be falling for too long anyway.

The fucked-up thing about this kind of fall was that the landing, the only thing that could bring relief, would never come.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Epilogue

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

HOLD THE FIRE!

If you don’t kill me, you might get an epilogue, you know? One you might actually like. Just SAYING!

Also, thank you for reading :-*

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #soulmate au #marvel #supernatural #steve rogers soulmate #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #captain america imagine #steve rogers imagine #mcu x spn #spn x mcu #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #winsod #anika ann

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something-fanfiction-ie · 5 years ago

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I Thought I Dreamed

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Dismembered body parts, mentions of blood, and that’s about it??

A/N: HOLY SHIT GUYS ITS FINISHED. Oh my goodness that was hard, I don’t understand why. I still hardcore hate it, but I love you guys too much to leave you hanging. So here is part two to Dreams. I hope you enjoy, and thank you for sticking around through my terrible writer blocks.

...

[ Part One ]

“You’re sure it isn’t just a concussion?” Your fiancé says, his voice cracking with nerves. The bathroom tile of your hotel room is cool beneath your legs, Spencer sits directly across from you with your feet in his lap and his fingers tracing worried patterns across your shins.

Above your head on the bathroom counter, is a pregnancy test that still has three more minutes to come up with a yes or no answer to the question you were pretty sure you already knew the answer to. Balanced in your lap is a book about dream analysis that you’d picked up on the way to the hotel tonight.

“I had a dream, Spence. This books says that nearly everything about my dream pointed to me being pregnant.” His eyes narrow, one hand reaching out to flip through the pages you’ve tagged with sticky bookmarks. Your soon to be husband is a book fanatic, you’d learned early on that dog-eared pages were the antichrist of all book lovers everywhere.

“If you are pregnant, I can assure you that the dream was just your subconscious telling you what it had already pieced together before your conscious mind.” The clock outside the bathroom door ticks slowly. You think back to the little boy in your dream, and as scary as having two children so close together in age may be, you can’t help but be a little excited at the thought of a baby Spencer in the world.

“You don’t believe in dream analysis, so your opinion on the matter is biased.”

“Arguably, every opinion is biased. No one person can be one-hundred percent objective no matter the circumstances.” He’d have Spencer’s eyes, Graeson does already and she’s not even half a year old. Was it wrong of you to hope that all your children with Spencer would look and be exactly like him? Hopefully, in terms of intelligence, they would both be carbon copies of their father.

The tears that come to your eyes surprise you when you think about him taking the kids to a museum, holding your son in his arms and one of his fingers wrapped in your daughter’s grasp as he explains every artifact and display. Hastily, you reach up to wipe at the streams of water that wet your cheeks. Spencer sets the book aside, leaning forward worriedly.

Ashamed of your sudden mood swing, another blatant sign that you could be pregnant, you avoid eye contact by staring at the clock.

“Hey,” his voice is gentle, his hands reaching out to smooth down the sides of your arms, “Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” Your nose crinkles as you try to bite back the next onslaught of tears, hoping the last minute will go by fast. When you finally meet his gaze, the puddles of emotion that collected in your eyes spill over once again.

“You’ll take them to museums, right? You’ll make sure our kids aren’t dumb, right?” You don’t know why it’s so important to you, but the helplessness you feel is all too familiar as you recall a similar moment from your previous pregnancy.

“(Y/N). Breathe. Calm down.” You look up at your boyfriend from the bathtub, feeling not unlike a beached whale with your oversized stomach poking over the surface of the water surrounding you. The sides of the tub dig into your fingers as you grip the edges so tightly that your knuckles turn white.

“I can’t calm down, Spencer! I don’t have enough time. I’m not prepared. If I’m not prepared now then who is to say I’m even supposed to be a mother? What if I completely screw our kid up? I don’t-” The air in your lungs doesn’t feel like enough and it feels like all too much at the same time. You’ve never felt like this before, especially not in the middle of a relaxing bath.

Slowly, Spencer reaches into the tub and pulls the stopper out of the bottom. With his other hand, he helps to pull you to your feet and wrap you in a soft, pink towel. He keeps making shushing noises like it’s going to help the overwhelming anxiety of becoming a new parent and, as much as you love him, it makes you want to scream.

But just before you give into your urges, he steps in front of you and lowers himself so that you don’t have to look up to meet his eyes. Either one of his hands come up to cradle your cheeks, you wonder if he notices the weight you’ve gained there since you started nearing your due date.

“You won’t screw our kid up. We will, together.” And you can’t help but let the laughter bubble out of your chest as you lean into him, letting his arms wrap around you as you lay your soaking wet head over his heart.

“We will, together.” He says again, reaching up to wipe a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. When he closes the distance to press a kiss to your forehead, causing you to close your eyes and force a deep breathe in through your nose, he plucks the test from the counter.

“Spencer! I thought this was a together thing!” You jump to your feet, reaching for the test that he has hanging over your head just out of reach.

“It is babe, but you have the advantage of knowing before me when it comes to these things and I just really want to know first one time.” You whine in protest, trying to determine the results on the small pink stick by profiling his body language.

His hand still up in the air, he tilts the small window toward his face. Both eyebrows go up, but his expression stays emotionless otherwise. Not even a muscle in his cheeks twitch. He’s way too good at hiding things when he wants to.

“Spencer.” You warn in your best imitation of Hotch’s commanding voice, stretching back up on your toes, your fingertips brush the plastic siding before he wraps his free arm around your back and pulls you to his chest. His kisses are like soft butterfly wings against your cheeks, eyelids, chin, forehead, and eventually lips.

In the two years you’ve been with Spencer, there have been all kinds of kisses. Kisses of burning passion and simmering anger, kisses of a deep and slow love, kisses of overwhelming joy and uncontrollable relief, but it’s this kind of kiss you’ve only ever felt once before.

The hand holding the test comes down to cradle your face, a thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. It reminds you of the way an art enthusiast might reach out to touch a painting or sculpture in awe, his lips moving against your own like you were a Goddess that he was praying to with complete faith and devotion.

When he finally broke away, his eyelashes damp with happy tears (and maybe a few scared tears), the facade is shattered and you can read his face like an open book.

“You’re getting really good at that mom voice for someone with a five month old.” He teased.

“And one on the way?” You have to make sure, you want to hear it come from his lips. Screw the test.

“Did you dream it was a boy, because I think it would be really cool if we had a boy this time.” You laugh into his lips, throwing both arms around his neck and bringing him down to your level. The curls that sway at his shoulder brush against the crooks of your elbows before you tangle your fingers into his hair.

And then, just like the horny teenagers you two definitely were around each other, he bends down and swoops you into his arms. The high pitched squealing laugh that bubbled between both of your lips came from you as he started to turn back to the hotel room.

“Now I’m really gonna have to make up for lost time while I can.” He teases, turning sideways so your feet and head don’t hit the doorframe.

The next day, back on the case of the dead girls with missing hands, the team notices the different energy between you. Like the way Spencer’s mouth opens in protest when Hotch suggests you accompany Morgan to the house of a possible suspect. You glare daggers at him from the door, a silent conversation flying between you before he finally closes his mouth and sinks into his seat. It did not go unnoticed by every other person in the room.

Or the day after that, when you offer to go get coffee for everyone instead of letting them drink nasty precinct coffee. (Something you used to do a lot when you’d been pregnant with Graeson and the places you went didn’t have decaf.)

The biggest tip off is the passing of peppermints between you and Spencer, the young doctor having somehow found the time to go to a convenience store and buy a bulk sized bag of the red and white candies to help with your nausea. The bag crinkles when he reaches into his satchel every so often.

Despite the fact that they all catch on pretty quickly, nobody says anything. They figure that you’ll tell them when you’re ready. Instead they focus on the case, which had been your hope the whole time.

You’re near the end of the investigation at this point, sucking on a peppermint and racing for one of the two addresses that Garcia had sent to your phones. Just this morning, another body had been found. His fuse was getting smaller as the days had passed and the investigation crawled at an unusually slow pace, meaning you were cutting it close to the wire if you wanted to save whatever poor girl had unknowingly incurred this man’s wrath.

With you, on the way to the workplace of a Ryan Christopher, is JJ, Hotch, and Prentiss. Rossi, Morgan, and Reid have their own car headed for his home. You’re in the backseat, holding onto your stomach and the edge of the leather bench seat as Hotch races through traffic. Garcia is explaining her findings over the speakerphone, you can hear Morgan and Reid interjecting every so often with their own thoughts and comments.

It isn’t until the SUV that you’ve been sliding around in finally bumps into the parking lot outside of a carpentry workshop that Hotch ends the call. The boys on one of the other two ends of the line say their own salutations, also approaching the unsub’s home.

“Be careful!” Spencer shouts to you over everyone. It’s really cute. You would dwell on it more, but given the fact that you were about to walk into a possible altercation with an unsub, you decided that staying sharp and focused was the way to go.

Quickly, all three FBI Agents slip out of the car, clustering together long enough to come up with a game plan. You rush for the back door, JJ gets the side, and Hotch readies himself at the front. It isn’t until every room in the workshop is clear that a little tension leaves your shoulders.

It’s obvious that he’s been here though, with giant pools of blood dried onto a workbench in one of the rooms. And if you weren’t sure of this man’s guilt before, then the small freezer full of hands that is bolted shut is enough to convince you otherwise.

“What is the point in bolting something shut if you have bolt cutters lying in the same room?” JJ comments, tossing her pale gold pony over her shoulder before letting the tool settle against the strap of her Kevlar.

You turn away from the freezer to try and quell the rolling in your stomach.

“I’m going to call Morgan to see if they have anything.” At this point, they should have cleared the house or arrested him, making you feel comfortable enough to pull out your phone and dial Derek’s number. He answers on the second ring, his tone of voice telling you everything that you need to know.

“Hey Mamacita, I’m gonna go ahead and assume he’s not over there?” The rest of the tension that you had been unconsciously holding in your chest leaves with the breath of relief that deflates your lungs. You shake your head, walking away from the freezer of hands to tell him everything you’d found in the ten minutes you’d been inside the workshop.

“That’s just a little gross,” Morgan comments. “Hey Spencer- Spencer!” His voice goes up an octave, booming through the speaker and reverberating in your ear.

“Morgan?! Morgan, what’s wrong?!” The sound of the phone clattering to the floor and a single gunshot is the only response you receive before you’re racing back outside.

The tires of the SUV screech against the asphalt outside Ryan Christopher’s home. Your heart leaped out of your chest with the wild swing of the vehicle underneath you. Ambulances, SUVs, and police cruisers scatter the road and lawn in front of you, several faces lifting to find the source of the sound.

“(Y/N)!” JJ cried, white knuckling the arm of her seat and the ‘Oh Shit’ handle above her head. The car was barely in park when you fumbled for the latch of your seatbelt, kicking the door open and rushing into the hordes of first responders.

You should have never agreed to let them separate you from each other. That was the only thing you could think the moment you heard Morgan cry your fiancé’s name over the phone.

“Spencer?!” You pushed past a couple of local cops who shot you dirty looks when you shoved your way between them. Your eyes couldn’t take in all the details around you fast enough, all you could focus on was finding the top of a curly brown head of hair. Rossi was the first to come up to you, grabbing you by the shoulders and meeting your eyes with a steady gaze.

“Don’t panic.” He said in the least reassuring manner humanly possible. You didn’t give him time to explain before you tore from his arms and ducked around him.

Ambulance. He would be in an ambulance. If he’s hurt that bad, you hope the ambulance has already left, but at the same time you need to see him. If you don’t you might actually vomit right here in the middle of everyone.

“SPENCER REID!” The sound came from your chest, booming over the clamor and bustle of everyone around you. More people stopped and stared as you stumbled toward the emergency vehicles parked at the other side of the mass of people. You didn’t care. The lack of response was setting you on edge.

Just before you could yell his name again, he suddenly appeared like a ghost might appear out of thin air. He certainly was as pale as a ghost, sitting at the end of an open ambulance with an ice pack gingerly held against the back of his head. One of his lanky arms was raised into the air, waving you over.

When you flew into his arms, burying your face into his chest and inhaling his familiar scent of coffee and laundry soap, he grunted a little in pain.

“Careful, I’m not broke but I’m definitely sore.” You loosened your grip from around his ribs, leaning back and beginning an assessment of his limbs and appendages. Everything was, thankfully, in its rightful place, but cuts and freshly forming bruises were littered all over his arms and face.

“We weren’t even separated an hour and this is how I come back to find you? Do you have no concern for my nerves? My sanity?!” Your voice is shrill with residual panic, your fingers gripping onto the back of his shirt so that they wouldn’t shake. Slowly, Spencer lowers the ice pack to the ambulance flooring before looping his arm around the tops of your shoulders. He doesn’t say anything, letting you ramble away the hysteria as he presses his lips to the crown of your head.

“You can’t ever get hurt, Spencer. We have a baby. We have two babies, actually. Stress is bad for pregnant women, you can’t put me under this kind of stress, I just, how could you be so careless? What even happened? You know what, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I’m so mad at you right now, Spencer Reid. Just you wait until I’m not consumed with relief that you’re not dead, I might kill you myself.”

The tears wetting your cheeks betray your words, the rant loosing any of its sting as your voice cracks through it.

Putting his hands on either side of your face, he lifts your head up until you’re staring into those eyes you love so much that it actually rips your heart into a thousand tiny pieces every time you think about it.

“Breathe. Didn’t you just say stress isn’t good for the baby?” You want to punch him in the mouth and kiss him senseless at the same time, narrowing your eyes and fighting the smile that Spencer can already see twisting the edges of your lips.

“If you ever do that again-” You start to say, trying and failing to shake away the nightmarish possibilities you’d conjured up in your head on the twenty minute drive from Ryan’s workshop. Spencer smothers your rant into his chest when he folds you back into his arms, cradling the back of your head in one of his large hands.

“I will be more considerate of your nerves going forward, Mrs. Bennet.” He teases. You playfully swat at his back before finally letting his embrace settle over you with it’s usual calming affect.

…

“So are we allowed to talk about how you’re pregnant again?” JJ teases from the front of the elevator, unable to contain her own excitement when she notices the way you and Spencer have your heads leaned together in secret near the back.

Your head pops up, nearly bumping against your fiancée’s with the speed in which move to look at JJ. A cursory sweep across the faces of the rest of the team tells you that JJ isn’t the only one who had connected the dots.

“I hate working with profilers.” You groan, thankful for the ding that signals the opening doors. The sight of the BAU is very much welcome, calling to your fatigued limbs the way a siren might call to a pirate ship. This is your last stop before your bed. Your mother always babysat Graeson in your own home, which made it so much easier when you came back late and you weren’t in the mood to stop by her house at one or two o’clock in the morning to pick up your daughter.

“Hey, don’t get mad at us because you and pretty boy are terrible at keeping secrets.” Morgan teases, elbowing Spencer on his way out of the cramped elevator.

“And using contraceptive, apparently.” Prentiss comments as she goes about shuffling papers and files between bags on her desk. You send her a teasing glare, only letting her slide when she pulls you in for a congratulatory hug.

After she lets go, everyone files in one by one for their own congratulations, patting Spencer on the back (lightly, he has a minor concussion and some serious bruises) and squeezing you into excited hugs. Once Rossi pulls away with a teasing remark about how you find the time for sex between cases and a five month old baby, you pick up your things.

“Ready to go home?” Spencer smiles from his desk, gathering his own things into his arms before making his way over to you.

“I’ve been ready for hours.” You sigh, making your way back to the elevator. Someone shouts a last minute congratulations to you before you get to the clear doors. The sound of hurried heels clicking against the floor stops you in your tracks.

Somehow, in all the exhaustion and all the chaos, you’d forgotten Garcia.

“YOU’RE WHAT?”

#criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #criminal mind imagine #spencer reid angst #spence reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert

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quillandink333 · 4 years ago

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Scarlet Carnations ~ Part V

BotW Link X Zelda ~ Detective AU

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.9k

WARNINGS: death, murder, loss, trauma, blood and gore, terrorism, organized crime, self-harm

Summary: Inspector Zelda Hyrule, assisted by the faithful Constable Link Fyori, is infamous for cracking the most confounding of cases in a town dominated by crime. Her latest assignment is to solve the murder of her own godmother, Impa Sheikah, the late CEO of Sheikah Tech. Incorporated, while staying under the radar of the dreaded Yiga organization.

Part I • Part II • Part III • Part IV • Part V • Part VI • Part VII • Epilogue • Masterlist

“‘Justice is Dead’: Inspector Hyrule Loses her Badge for Lying in Sheikah Murder Trial”

This headline, alongside a photograph capturing the catastrophe that had been Link’s trial, was what had made the front page of the Times not long after it had all transpired. And it wasn’t the only one of its kind. Far from it. It seemed every publishing firm in town had released an article covering my epic blunder in court.

My name wasn’t unfamiliar to the masses either. As the daughter of the last pre-Yiga mayor to stand in office, anyone who read the paper regularly knew who I was. Until now, I’d been known all across town as the prodigy detective dedicated to keeping the streets free of crime, but now, all those people would look upon my face and see nothing but a filthy, lowlife perjurer.

I could live with my name being ground into the dirt by the media. What made me truly bitter beyond words was that the few individuals whom I’d once trusted and looked up to would now think the same of me.

I’d tried reaching out to Prosecutor Sigatur countless times in the hopes that she could in some way continue the investigation in my stead, but every time I called, she would never pick up. She probably saw this case as closed now anyway. I had managed to get a hold of Auntie Purah, but all she’d been willing to say to me was that she needed time to think before hanging up. As for Paya, I couldn’t even bring myself to try to contact her.

It wasn’t something I took pride in. Clearly the best thing for me to do would be to apologize to them all for my actions, most of all to Paya after all the needless grief I’d caused her. But I simply couldn’t do it. Just the idea of it felt wrong. No words that I could possibly say to them would be of any use in bettering the circumstances. I couldn’t bring Auntie Impa back. I couldn’t undo what I’d done. I couldn’t do anything. There wasn’t a single thing I was good for other than making a mockery of myself and disappointing those who’d once dared to put their faith in me. Nothing at all.

And now, to put a cherry atop the sundae of darkness and misery that my life had come to, the one person who mattered most to me, the one I’d dedicated myself to protecting, was gone, forever. Just when we’d finally found each other again. There was still so much I’d wanted to ask him, and even more that I’d wanted to say, but...

What I wouldn’t have given just to be by his side at that moment. What we did didn’t matter. Even if he and I were simply in the same room together, I’d feel more at ease. But who was I to wish for such things? I was the one who had failed him. I should’ve just testified that I’d been the one behind everything. I should’ve been the one on death row right then. Not him.

I thought recalling a happier time would perhaps help to restore me to my rational self, before it was too late, but in the end, it only proved to pour more salt in the wound.

“Alright, I’ll see you around.” Both Paya’s and my own ears perked up at the familiar, jovial voice down the hallway. “Great time catching up with you!” No sooner than we’d heard those words did Link come striding out of one of the classrooms on the left.

“Uhh...!” I turned toward Paya, who was suddenly as red as a raspberry. “I j-just remembered I had something to ask one of my teachers about!”

Just then, Link’s eyes landed on the two of us. Paya gave him a wave and a sheepish smile, both worth no more than half a second.

“You two have fun!”

Then she started to turn on her heel.

My outstretched arm just barely missed the strap of her school bag. “No, wait!”

“Bye!”

I gave a disgruntled snarl as she made her hasty retreat. She was far enough now that if I tried calling out to her, I’d only be drawing attention to myself.

“Everything alright, Zelda?”

“Link!” The boy in question was right there, just a foot’s distance or so behind me. “Oh, yes. Quite. Paya’s just...”

“She seemed busy.”

“Yes, yes,” I grumbled. Busy putting me on the spot, more like. As always. “Who was that you were talking to just now?”

“Oh, you must mean Sidon!” he exclaimed. “He and I knew each other in elementary school. He just transferred here last week, or so I’m told. What a small world we live in!”

He spoke animatedly, gesturing with his whole body as he told me tales of the mischief he and his childhood friends used to get up to. Though he himself had only been enrolled here since the start of that year, it seemed he already knew everyone on campus. Even the members of faculty were fond of him.

“So I heard you got in touch with my father again the other day,” he said as we rounded the corner of the building’s exterior on the way to our usual lunch spot.

“Oh, yes, I did!” He took a seat next to me on the concrete bench in front of the greenhouse.

“How’d that go?” he asked, then tore a massive bite out of his sandwich.

I winced in a mixture of worry and amazement. “Well, he didn’t really have much to contribute to my case, but I appreciate his hearing me out all the same.”

“Ah’m thure you ‘o.” He swallowed his mouthful of food before continuing, to my relief. “But he doesn’t take time out of his busy schedule to talk to just anyone, you know.”

“Oh, certainly. If it weren’t for Urbosa, I’m sure he wouldn’t even give me the time of day.”

Then a teasing grin lit up his face. “Aren’t you forgetting about someone?”

“Oh! Of course. My apologies,” I bowed, swivelling in his direction. “You’ve been a great help as well, Link. Thank you.”

A faint crease formed between his brows. “Come on now, I was only joking.” He gave my shoulder a light shove, nearly making me drop my lunch tray. “You should try being less prim and proper all the time. No one’s counting on you for anything, are they?”

“No, I suppose not.” No one amongst the living, anyway. Besides, he already had me eating lunch outside the cafeteria. How much more improper did he expect me to be? “I think it’s just the way I’ve been brought up.”

He gave a slow nod. “That’s understandable.” No doubt he could imagine how strict the CEO of Sheikah Tech. could be with her daughters sometimes. “Still, if you want my advice, try lightening up now and then. Trust me, you’ll be loads happier that way.”

My heart swelled at his kind words. If it were anyone else, I probably would have dismissed them as just another naïve optimist. “You think so?”

He shook his head, correcting me with, “I know so.”

I’d bumped his knee with my own when I’d turned to face him a short while earlier. It was then that I finally took notice of our sustained bodily contact, which in turn made me notice how little distance there really was between where he and I were now sitting.

He must’ve realized this as well. While I was still in a flustered rut about what to do, he caught me off guard and scooted even closer, until our thighs were just a hair’s breadth away from touching. I, of course, was a gawking, red-faced mess at this point, but he didn’t seem to mind. He simply kept looking at me with that disarmingly sweet smile of his.

Never in my life had I met someone more determined to keep smiling in spite of all the world’s cruelties than he was. It wasn’t ignorance; his father was none other than the district’s chief detective. He was simply, genuinely, fearless.

“Hey, so...” His mannerism had shifted out of nowhere from confident to slightly less confident. “Will you be coming back here for the horticulture club meet this afternoon? I just remembered you mentioning that the other day, and if you are going, it’d give me a reason to go.”

A rush of giddiness took hold of me, causing my heart to thrum wildly within my ribcage. “Really?”

“Oh, wait. Did I just—” He laughed into his palm, then groaned. “Did I say, ‘a reason,’ just now?” I nodded, perplexed. “I meant, ‘more reason.’ That’s what I meant to say, obviously, because I was already thinking about going before you mentioned it.”

He seemed to be telling that more to himself than to me. I did my best to reciprocate his forced chuckle. “Alright.”

“Yep...”

The bell rang in the distance, signalling five minutes until the start of class.

“Oh, dear. I’d better be off.” In a rush, I stood up and gathered my things. “My next class is on the other side of campus. Bye for now, Link!”

“Wait, Zelda!” I halted. “So...are you going?”

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my lips. “That’s what I had planned for today, yes.”

“Oh, spiffing!” His crow’s feet appeared adorably at the corners of his eyes, making my own smile grow. “I’ll see you then!”

By the time the memory had reached the end of its reel, there was a knife situated in the trembling grasp of my hand. Though the cuts were already a great deal in number, I’d barely even felt them until now. Now they stung like venom. In truth, it was most likely a result of the tears that had begun to fall upon the marred surface of my inner forearm. With this realization, my silent tears were only magnified into sobs of insurmountable extremity. The blade in my grip clattered mercilessly onto the desk. I was never going to see him again, was I?

As the salt of my tears mixed together with the little puddles of red that had formed, I caught myself staring blankly at the ball key sitting on the far end of my desk: the one Link had found at the scene of my godmother’s killing and had kept secret until the day before his conviction, when he’d entrusted it to me. Its dim, tangerine glow was just another painful reminder of how hopeless this situation really was.

Of course, being the spectacular mess of a person that I had become, I’d made the oh-so-wise decision to cut myself at the place where I carried out my chemistry experiments. With grandiosity, I oafishly spilled an entire beaker’s worth of fluid just as I’d finished wiping away the blood.

But just as I was about to go and fetch the mop, something happened that I never could’ve expected.

In the darkness of my apartment, the area on my desk where there had once been blood was glowing a strikingly brilliant blue.

I picked up the beaker that I’d knocked over. It bore the handwritten label, “5-Amino-2,3-dihydrophthalazine-1,4-dione.” Scanning the desk’s surface, something else caught my eye—something that could potentially be the “key” that I’d been searching for since the moment I’d discovered my dear godmother’s dead body.

The orange glow of the ball key, which had just so happened to find itself square in the middle of the splash zone, was being obscured by spots of blue light.

#my writing #fanfic #botw #zelink #botw zelink #zelink botw #link x zelda #zelda x link #botw link x zelda #botw zelda x link #zelink fanfic #zelink fic #zelink ff #zelda pov #detective au

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katerinawinters · 4 years ago

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Predator: Huntress Alpha Chapter 3

Crouched by the bushes, Justice eased forward, scanning the terrain around her. Over the large boulders that dotted the landscape between the colony's buildings, she surveyed nooks and crannies along the buildings and every shadowed spot. The sun was going down rapidly, and the wind was picking up speed. Where the serpent aliens feasted, storms always followed.

No one was quite sure how or why the xenomorphs affected the local weather of any planet they terrorized, but it was a known fact that with time even the very atmosphere would begin to cry out as a result of the beasts. Soon the sandy surface of this desert planet would be razed black. No plants, no water source, no living being would survive the killing legion forsaking this place. Narrowing her eyes within her helmet, she scanned the area once more. Moments before, she had removed Larsa from her harness and awkwardly cradled the baby as she changed her diaper without setting her on the ground. Chubby and round, Larsa looked up at her with the most condemning look of consternation Justice had ever seen. Justice would have laughed if this had been any other day; instead, she kissed the baby's pouting little lips and put her back into the harness.

Seeing that her path to the dorm building was all clear, Justice moved. With inhuman speed, she crossed the distance and rushed to the metal ladder gripping the bars on either side. Without missing a beat, Justice seamlessly transitioned from her run to halfway running up the ladder's rungs. She was a quarter of a way up when Larsa finally had enough.

Tiny fists began to beat at her chest, accompanying a loud breathy cry that rent through the still desert air with the same disrupting force of an explosion.

"Oh Larsa, please," Justice moaned, wanting nothing more than to comfort the baby, but with one hand on the ladder's bar and one hand gripping the rifle, Justice had no choice but to endure it.

Unused to being ignored, Larsa's cry grew louder, and Justice paused as she felt the tremor vibrate through her hands and boots.

Jerking her head backward, Justice froze at the black figure hunkered down at the roof's line. Glistening even in the dusk's low light, she could see the glimmer of xenomorph's curled up lips as it bared a cold, deadly smile.

Sensing it before it made a sound, Justice looked down through the space between her arm and body and cursed under her breath as another xenomorph crawled slowly around the building's corner. On all fours, she could see the bunched muscles in its large hindquarters, it was ready to leap at her.

Larsa continued to cry, the sound acting as a beacon on the silent, newly dead planet. She was tired of being in a harness, she wanted attention, she wanted to be cuddled and cooed at as she ate. She wanted a nap in her bed. She was tired of hanging off her mother's chest being ignored and draped in alien carcass parts, and now she wanted to be heard.

"Oh, sweetheart," Justice said in a low measured tone as she kept her gaze bouncing from the alien below her and the alien above her. "I truly understand. I'm quite tired of this shit too."

Possibilities filled Justice's brain as the seconds slowed. The sounds of Larsa's crying muted in her head, and she focused only on the twin pair of seething breathing above and below them. She warred with herself with the decision on what to do. Shooting the one above would cause it to fall. But she had to account for its barbed tail. If there were any last vestiges of life in the creature, it could easily kill them as it fell. Just the thought of that long, black sawtoothed tail striking out at her and puncturing Larsa made Justice's thoughts stutter, and her heart tighten in sheer agony. No, Justice pushed the thought away immediately. She couldn’t even consider thinking it. If she shot it, she had to time the slower warp shot perfectly and aim to kill while moving to the side just in time to avoid its bulky body slamming into her as it fell down. Shooting the one below, however, from this angle would prove even more difficult. In the alien's position, it had the advantage, not her. It could see where she was aiming and it without a doubt knew her limited movements hanging off the ladder, especially with its sibling advancing from above.

More hissing noises filled the air, and Larsa lowered her crying to a dull, continuous protests as if even she heard the dire noises. Looking back up, Justice felt herself grow cold at the three other dark shapes that appeared at the roof's edge. Whatever decision she was going to make disintegrated at the sight, leaving her only one choice with very slim margins of survival. She had no choice. Putting her feet on the outside pole of the ladder, Justice loosened her grip on the ladder and began to slide down, aiming her rifle down to the alien that waited.

Her finger didn’t move on the trigger as she watched the xenomorph suddenly screech and flail before being yanked violently around the building's corner. Landing with a silent thud onto the sand, Justice did not hesitate. Switching her retinal interface, she took a mental snapshot of the scene as she took off running at full speed, leaving the xenomorphs to scramble down the building after her.

Ignoring her daughter's bouncing cries of protest, Justice pulled up the mental snapshot in one eye and examined it quickly before pulling up a holo-map. Searching the terrain, she veered sixty degrees. She knew what she needed to find. Somewhere not too far. Somewhere elevated, not close to a hive, somewhere that had plenty of room to maneuver in and out without notice.

Sparing one last glance over her shoulder at the dorm building, she looked past the black shapes loping behind her to keep up and envisioned her black case inside her apartment holding everything she had been taught to think she was. Looking back down to the disgruntled infant staring up at her with wailing fury, demanding answers, Justice gave the baby a wan little smile and increased her speed towards the last card Justice had in her deck to play.

What living thing leaves no heat trail? What could be large or strong enough to drag an uninjured sentinel xenomorph by its tail? Or should she say, what in the hell was crazy enough to do it? Oh, she knew exactly what it was. No heat trail, strong, and ballsy--a yautja that's fucking what.

By Katerina Winters

#yautja #yautja fanfiction #yautja smut #yautja love #predator #sexy predator #predator fanfiction #predator smut #predator love #monster boyfriend #monster love #Monster #writings #katerina winters

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blacklister214 · 4 years ago

Text

Blacklist Secret Santa Gift

@takadasaiko Here’s your Secret Santa Gift! Enjoy!

Consequences

Strange how easy it was to take as commonplace things that once would have been considered unattainable luxuries. The girl who would one day become Scottie Hargrave would have never dared to dream of the high-rise the woman would call home. Not the closet of couture, not the priceless art adorning the wall, and not even the Egyptian cotton sheets that currently wrapped around her body like a decadent cocoon. Even ten years ago, long after she’d accepted such possessions as her due, the deep slumber she’d been experiencing would have been an indulgence completely beyond her reach. A decade later she’d come to expect a peaceful night’s rest. That was why, when she jolted awake, she knew instantly something had to be wrong.

Instinctively her hand flew to her nightstand for her gun. It wasn’t there. Of course. Scottie had locked it away in preparation for her granddaughter’s extended visit. Her gaze swept the room for the presence she sensed there. Sure enough, sitting in a chair ten feet away was a still figure assessing her with icy consideration. Scottie's heart leapt in her chest as her mind flew back decades in time. Katarina. It couldn’t be.

The woman leaned forward and the moonlight from the window partly illuminated her face. Scottie released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Not Katarina. Masha, or rather Elizabeth, as she preferred to be called. Of course. That made far more sense than a ghost. Strange to have mistaken one for the other. Despite their relationship, mother and daughter looked very little alike. It was only now and then that something in Elizabeth’s posture or expression brought a flash of bittersweet recognition.

“Elizabeth? What’s wrong?” It had been weeks since she’d last seen her daughter-in-law, since Elizabeth had elected to go to war with Raymond Reddington over the murder of her mother. Pain shot through Scottie as she remembered that phone call. Elizabeth had explained what had happened. Katarina Rostova had miraculously returned from the dead, only to be murdered by the concierge of crime.

Scottie had been so shocked, she didn’t know how she’d managed to absorb the rest of the details. Why hadn’t Katarina reached out? Scottie would have helped. Katarina had to have known that. Elizabeth hadn’t realized the impact of the information she was imparting. She’d merely been explaining why she needed Scottie to care for Agnes for an extended period of time.

“So many things.” Eyes finally adjusting to the dark room Scottie suddenly focused on the gun Elizabeth was casually resting on her thigh. Adrenaline flooded the older woman’s system.

“Elizabeth, why do you have that gun?” Elizabeth tilted her head to the side in an uncanny imitation of Raymond Reddington.

“Family is a funny concept isn’t it? I share blood with Agnes. Agnes shares blood with you. Suddenly I’m willing to turn my child over to a woman who shot up a church on my wedding day. Who tried to have me kidnapped. Who had my husband tortured.” Scottie could hear the quiet rage unlaying every word. Sins that had been forgiven, if not forgotten now blistered in her ears. Still, Elizabeth couldn’t claim superiority on every front. People in glass houses, as the saying went, shouldn’t throw stones.

“I’m not the only person in this room to have done that, if I recall. Tom forgave both of us-”

Elizabeth raised her weapon so that it was now pointing directly between Scottie’s eyes. If she squeezed the trigger, that was it. At this range there was no way Katarina’s daughter would miss.

“Don’t you say his name!” There was so much anger and grief Scottie felt, for a moment, a twinge of shame. It was a novel experience to say the least. Still, she wasn’t such a hypocrite that she would apologize. If she’d had the choice, she knew she’d do it all over again.

“You know.” When Elizabeth had first awoken from her coma, Scottie had feared discovery. She imagined Elizabeth might refuse to accept that her husband was gone. That she might have gone digging and uncovered the truth. Elizabeth hadn’t, probably because Harold Cooper had been a witness to “Tom’s” corpse. Reddington, she might have disbelieved, but not the assistant director of the FBI. That the truth should surface now, after so much time had passed was surprising.

“I found Dr. Selma Orchard.” That explained it. The war with Raymond had pushed Elizabeth to dig more fiercely that she had before. Of course she’d reach out to Orchard. Scottie kicked herself for not having anticipated it.

“I see.” She’d hidden the good doctor well, but Elizabeth was an FBI agent with all the resources that entailed. Scottie could easily image Orchard slightly relaxing her guard after years had passed. It wouldn’t have taken much.

“How?” Scottie had expected this question. What she’d achieved under the noses of the FBI AND Raymond Reddington was quite remarkable. If it hadn’t caused her so much pain, she might even be proud of herself.

“Tom called me before he got home. My people arrived just after Reddington. They followed you to the hospital. Tom flat-lined on the table, but they were able to resuscitate. Once he stabilized, I got him out. A few bribes. Doctored surveillance footage. The body Cooper saw was a German arms dealer surgically altered to look like Tom down to every last scar and faded tattoo.” She’d gotten the idea from the Independence, USA mission Tom himself had been a part of. Without that body there was no way Reddington would have believed Tom was really dead.

Elizabeth shook her head angrily, not in the mood apparently to be impressed. Scottie couldn’t exactly blame her.

“Not ‘how did you pull it off?’. I don’t CARE how you pulled it off. I meant ‘How could you do this?’ To me. To Agnes! You stole MY HUSBAND! You stole HER FATHER!” Now Scottie felt herself becoming angry. She “stole” him?! As if Scottie didn’t have as much, if not more of a claim on Tom. As if it were Scottie’s fault that Tom had nearly died. As if it was for Scottie that Tom had put himself in mortal jeopardy.

“I SAVED your husband. I SAVED Agnes’ father. I SAVED MY SON!” Scottie took a deep breath. She didn’t blame Elizabeth. Not really. Not for being angry. Not for Tom’s nearly fatal wounds. She hadn’t chosen to be born into the web of danger and deceit any more than Tom had. “This wasn’t some maniacal plan I hatched to cause you pain. Tom was in a coma. You were in a coma. I didn’t know when or if either of you would wake up. When I faked his death, I was only thinking of protecting him from the people who came after him and from Reddington.

It was only after I’d had him that I realized the truth. Tom would never be safe with you, even without knowing Reddington’s secret. There is nowhere the two of you could run that he wouldn’t find you. The same with Agnes. Reddington would NEVER let either of you go.” As a mother, she had had no choice. She wouldn’t let her boy die. Not again. Not when she could save him.

“And so you decided to take him away from both of us.” Scottie sighed. Elizabeth still didn’t understand. She hadn’t been the only one who’d lost him.

“Tom Keen would never leave his wife and child not for any reason. But Jacob Phelps was a survivor. He could be reasoned with.” With Orchard’s help she had rolled her son back to an earlier version. Someone who could be trusted to act in his own self interest, rather than that of his family.

“What did you tell him?”

“The truth. I told him he’d had a violent falling out with Bill McCready a few years ago. That he’d recently started working for me. That Raymond Reddington wanted him dead and very nearly got his wish. That he had the funds to start over anywhere in the world he chose.” The memories were there, carefully edited by Orchard’s skill, and any gaps easily explained by the trauma he’d suffered.

“You didn’t tell him you’re his mother?” Scottie swallowed, recalling having to make that decision. There had been a time, a too brief time, when she’d seen a look in her son’s eyes. Love for her, for his mother. Quite the contrast to the wary expression the last time she’d seen them.

“No. I couldn’t risk it. He may have wanted to stay in contact. So you see, I didn’t do anything to you I didn’t do to myself.” If Scottie had expected sympathy, she was destined for disappointment. The look Elizabeth gave her now was pure contempt.

“Yes, you did. You let me think he was dead. You let me think Tom was dead because of me.” Scottie swallowed the retort about how that had very nearly been the case. That wouldn’t help the situation.

“Agnes was kidnapped when she was a baby. You went months without knowing if she was alive or dead. You have had a taste of what it feels like to lose your child. I had already buried my son once. I could not endure it again.” There it was, as much of an apology as she was capable of making. A plea, mother to mother, for Elizabeth understanding, if not forgiveness. She studied the FBI agent’s face and thought she detected, just for a moment, a softening of expression. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“Where is he?” Scottie shook her head.

“I don’t know.” Elizabeth raised the gun in silent threat. “You can shoot me, but it won’t change my answer. I didn’t want to live with the temptation.” Would Elizabeth shoot her? Scottie was still Tom’s mother. Agnes was still down the hall. Elizabeth’s thoughts seemed to follow a similar path as she glanced to the door. Her lips tightened as she stood. A decision had been made.

“I’m going to find him.” Scottie briefly closed her eyes. Why had her son married such a stubborn woman?

“He’s not the same man you knew.” It was a desperate bid, but it was also the truth. Elizabeth had only ever known a man who loved her. Who’d wanted her enough to risk death to be with her.

“And I’m not the same woman. It doesn’t matter. He still deserves the truth. He deserves to be able to make his own choices. Something neither you, nor Reddington can seem to grasp.” The comparison stung especially in light of recent events.

“Then I hope you can live with the consequences.” She gazed after Elizabeth, eyes following her through the door and lingering there long after. There was no point in laying back down. Sleep would not come for her again tonight. Instead her mind raced with all the things she had done, and all the things she had yet to do to save her son.

“I hope we both can.”

#theblacklistsecretsanta #keen2 #keen2 fanfiction #blacklist fanfiction #tom keen #scottie hargrave

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tarhalindur · 4 years ago

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The Tragedy of Madoka Kaname

One of the most common charges leveled at Homura, especially in the context of shipping arguments, is that the relationship between the two girls is unhealthy because Homura keeps overriding Madoka’s agency.

It’s not entirely wrong. But it’s also not quite right, either.

Looking over everything again, I rather think that at least in the main series this is partially missing the point, and in the most ironic of ways - most of the accusations about Homura denying Madoka’s agency are, in fact, ignoring Madoka’s own agency.

After all, Gen Urobutchi is notoriously a fan of hamartia - tragedy wherein the downfall of a character flows directly from that character’s own personality and flaws.

Madoka Kaname is not immune to this.

(Spoilers go under the cut.)

There’s a few keystones to Madoka as a series, but the one that’s been drawing the most of my attention is the Junko-Madoka conversation in episode 6. Which does get noted by the fanbase, but there’s one line in particular in the context of Madoka not knowing how to make mistakes that strikes me as critically important and that doesn’t get talked about that often: “The more responsibility you have on your shoulders, the fewer mistakes you can make.”

Junko, as is often the case, pairs being a perceptive judge of her daughter’s character with a understandably very poor assessment of the situation her daughter is in. That line is Madoka’s own hamartia: twice during the series, Madoka makes a small mistake in a situation where all the weight of the world is on her shoulders, with disastrous consequences. (Whether Madoka intended to make either or both of those mistakes? That’s an interesting question. It’s possible. To quote the other Junko line that sticks with me from that conversation, “sometimes, if you’re in a dead end with no way out, making a big mistake is an option”.) The second is the strongest argument for the existence of Rebellion. But it’s the first one that’s relevant here: Madoka’s request to Homura in episode 10 not to let her turn into a Witch.

A completely understandable and even noble request, on the surface.

There’s only one problem.

To wit:

A) Madoka is a show that benefits massively from shifting interpretative lenses, nowhere more so than in scenes like this. (This applies to Madoka’s second mistake, too - the show is meant to be looked at both through a Christian lens and through a Buddhist one, and the mistake is only visible through the latter.)

B) One very old take on magical girls as a genre, dating back IIRC at least as far as Sailor Moon and Card Captor Sakura if not a decade further, is the magical girl transformation as a metaphor for puberty. And we can be quite sure that PMMM is using that take - as Kyubey himself tells us in one of the most infamous (and infamously hard-to-translate because Japanese pun) lines of the series, “in this country they call girls ‘shoujo’, so for girls who grow up to be ‘majo’ is it not appropriate to call them ‘mahou shoujo”?”... operative words “grow up”. (Madoka can be very, very unsubtle when it really wants to make a point, and this is a case in point.)

Therein the problem: from the perspective of PMMM’s version of magical-girls-as-puberty, Madoka’s request can be neatly rephrased as follows: “please don’t let me grow up”.

Homura agrees to this. (This in turn is a mistake on her part, of course. Even setting aside everything else - and as I’m about to get into, that would be a mistake itself - I’m pretty sure it’s counterproductive to what Homura really wants deep down; given the archetype she’s trying to wear and her comments to Madoka in 11, I suspect Homura would be happiest protecting an equal.)

Everything else flows downhill from that.

It’s why Madoka becomes increasingly timid (on the surface, anyways) and unable to do anything at the same time that Homura outgrows (or, more accurately, appears to outgrow - again, parallels) her early-timeline self and becomes increasingly assured and self-confident - as Homura grows up, Madoka is regressing back to a childlike state. (I am, of course, not the first person to note this. But I’ve never seen anyone else note that you can set aside Homura’s agency entirely and still get this result because it’s the logical consequence of Madoka’s own request.)

And it’s why Homura disregards Madoka’s agency. By asking Homura to not let her become a Witch(/not let her grow up), Madoka has inadvertently placed Homura in a parental role over her. And a situation where a child under your care is unwittingly doing something fatally dangerous to themself? That’s exactly a situation where it’s considered acceptable and usually outright praiseworthy to override the child’s agency. (Something Homura is likely quite familiar with given her health issues. Which stands in stark contrast to basically everything else about parenting, given the strong implication that Homura’s parents are either absent or dead.)

And finally, it’s also part of the problem that Homura runs into. After all, there’s one problem with trying to prevent someone from growing up. It doesn’t work. Entropy triumphs. (With one notable in-universe class of exceptions... and oh would you look at that, that exception class is exactly what Madoka eventually turns to to make good her request. For herself and everyone else.)

(The payoff, of course, is Homura breaking down during her conversation with Madoka in episode 11. For what’s probably the first time in subjective years, Homura treats Madoka as basically an equal, trusting her with an explanation of the actual situation. And it works, albeit indirectly; Madoka manages to figure out a solution to the problem after Homura does this.)

(Note also the implicit contrast with Madoka’s other non-biological maternal figure in the series, Mami, whose role is instead to push Madoka to grow up. There’s a reason for the Homura-Mami fight in Rebellion. And I note a couple of existing things suggesting Mami will have a prominent role in Walpurgis no Kaiten...)

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mersuperwholocked-lowlife · 5 years ago

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Dead in the Water

Word Count: 5,884

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Sister!Reader, other Season one episode 3 characters

Pairings: Sam Winchester x Sister!Reader; Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Warnings: angst, barely any fluff, canon level violence, mentions of death of a child

A/N:i t’s finally here, enjoy!

A/N 2: I was thinking about all the plans I have for like upcoming in this..... and oof, I’m so excited

Masterlist

“When did you get that?” Sam asked, looking over to your tattoo.

“Uhm, about a month ago. Me and Dean got drunk and then I woke up with this,” you replied, looking to your arm.

The three of you were currently at some diner, looking for a case.

“Wow, well it’s, uh….. something….” Sam stuttered.

You looked at the tattoo on your arm. There was really no telling what it was. It looked like it was supposed to be a lotus flower, but then it had an arrow going through it and some other random marks.

“You don’t have to lie. I’m pretty sure Dean did it,” you shrugged.

Well, thank god he’s not a tattoo artist,” Sam laughed.

“Yeah, oh look at that! The waitress is totally hitting on Dean! Do you wanna crash it or should I?” you laughed, as the two of you looked at Dean.

Sam made his way to the table.

“Is there anything I can get you?” the lady asked Dean.

“Just the check, please,” Sam spoke for Dean, sitting next to him.

You smiled, walking to the two of them.

“You know, we are allowed to have fun every once in a while,” Dean groaned.

“Last time you had fun like that, I was locked out of the hotel room, with my wallet and phone inside, and I had to sleep next to the Impala. Not in it, next to it,” you replied.

“Heh, well that was a good night,” Dean smirked.

“Eww.” Sam scrunched his face.

“Okay, well, here, look at this. I think I got one,” Dean showed the two of you a newspaper. He circled a photo of an 18-year-old girl, who seemed to have drowned.

“Sophie Carlton, 18, last week. Walked into a lake and didn’t walk out,” Dean started.

So far, it sounded like she drowned.

“Authorities dragged the water, nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third drowning in Lake Manitoc this year. None of their bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days later.” he finished.

“A funeral?” you and Sam asked.

“Yeah, it’s weird. They buried an empty coffin for closure or whatever,” Dean replied.

“Closure? What closure?”, you asked.

“Yeah, people don’t just disappear, others stop looking for them,” Sam said to Dean.

Well, here we go again, you thought.

“Something you wanna say to me, Sammy?”, Dean asked, giving Sam a look.

“The trail for Dad, it’s getting colder every day,” Sam said.

“Well, what are we supposed to do?”, Dean asked.

“I don’t know. Something, anything,” Sam replied.

“You know what? I’m sick of this attitude. You don’t think I want to find Dad as much as you do?” Dean asked, annoyed.

“I’m the one who’s been with him every single day for the past two years, while you’ve been off to college going to pep rallies.”, Dean started, raising his voice a little.

“So? (Y/N) was there too, you don’t see her acting like a bitch,” Sam scoffed.

“You know what?” Dean started.

“Okay, stop. Both of you. First, I wasn’t there for the whole time. I took a year away from them.” you started, your face fell with the memory. You had secrets that Sam and Dean didn’t know. That only your dad knew.

“Wait, what?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, now listen, Sammy, we all wanna find Dad, okay? But, it’s gonna take some time. So, until then, we’re gonna kill every son of a bitch that we find, because it’s our job,” you said, in a calm way.

It’s weird to think that you’re the mature one.

Sam rolled his eyes before exhaling sharply.

“Okay, fine. Lake Manitoc, how far?”

----

Hey Dad, it’s (Y/N) again. Another day of me texting you, and still no reply. We’re worried. Please get back to me.

I’m almost 100 percent sure that Sam and Dean are gonna murder each other. Sam’s going crazy looking for you. We’re just trying to work any hunt we can meanwhile.

We miss you, just please let us know if you’re okay.

“Hello? Earth to (Y/N)?” you heard Dean say.

You looked up to him, putting your phone away.

“Yeah, what?” you asked.

“We’re here,” the three of you got out of the car, looking at Sophie’s house. She lived a normal, quiet life, with her Dad and brother.

Dean knocked at the door. Another boy answered the door, which you assumed to be Sophie’s brother.

“Will Carlton?” you asked as he opened the door.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he replied, looking cautiously at the three of you.

“I’m Agent Ford, this is Agent Hamill and Prescott. We’re with the U.S. wildlife service,” Dean showed his fake I.D.

Will relaxed, letting the three of you in, taking you to the lake.

You looked in the distance, seeing their dad sitting on a bench near the lake.

“She was about 100 yards out. That’s where she got dragged down,” he said softly.

“What makes you sure she didn’t drown?” you asked Will.

“She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in the lake. She’s as safe out there as in her own bathtub.” he explained.

“So, no splashing? No sign of distress?” Sam asked.

“No, that’s what I’m telling you.” he shook his head.

“Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?” Dean asked.

“No, again, she was really far out there,” he replied.

“You ever see any strange tracks on the shoreline?” you asked.

“No, never. Why? Do you think there’s something out there?” Will asked.

“We’ll let you know as soon as we know,” you gave him a small smile, as you and Dean started walking off.

“What about your father?” Sam asked. You and Dean stopped, turning to Sam.

“Can we talk to him?” Sam asked.

“Look, if you don’t mind, I mean, he didn’t see anything, and he’s kinda been through a lot,” Will explained.

“We understand,” Sam nodded, as the three of you walked to the Impala.

“You think he’s hiding something?” Sam asked.

“Or maybe he’s just in shock. He just lost his daughter,” you replied softly.

“Well, Will said he’s been through a lot lately. Maybe there’s more,” Dean said.

“Losing a child is a lot, Dean,” you replied rolling your eyes as you sat in the car.

“Sheesh, who put the stick up your ass?” Dean sassed.

“Shut up, Dean,” you clenched your jaw.

“Whatever, let’s go,” you laid back in the seat, crossing your arms as Dean drove off.

-------

“Now, I’m sorry, why does the wildlife service care about an accidental driving?” the sheriff asked, leading the three of you to his office.

“You sure it’s accidental? Will Carlton saw something grab his sister,” Sam asked.

“Like what? Here, sit down please,” he said, pointing to three chairs across from him.

“There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake,” he said.

“There’s nothing even big enough to pull a person unless it was the loch ness monster,” the sheriff added.

“Yeah, right,” Dean started.

“Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still, we dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep to be sure, and there was nothing down there,” he said.

“That’s weird, though. That’s the third missing body this year,” you said.

“I know. These are people from my town. People I care about,” the sheriff sighed.

“I understand,” Dean said.

“Anyways, all this. It won’t be a problem much longer,” the sheriff crossed his arms.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Well, the dam, of course,” the sheriff said.

You looked to Sam and Dean.

“The dam, right, it… it sprung a leak,” Dean said.

“It’s falling apart, and the feds won’t give us the grand to repair it, so they’ve opened the spillway. In 6 months, there won’t be much of a lake. There won’t be much of a town either, but as federal wildlife, you already knew that” the sheriff leaned in, looking at the two of you.

“Exactly,” you replied.

“Sorry, am I interrupting? I can come back later,” you heard a voice from behind you.

The three of you stood up, smiling to the woman.

“Agents, this is my daughter,” the sheriff said.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dean,” Dean smiled, shaking her hand.

You rolled your eyes, hasn’t even known her for a full minute and he’s already flirting.

“Andrea Bar. Hi,” she smiled.

“They’re from the wildlife service, about the lake,” he explained.

You saw a small kid from behind her.

“Oh, hey there, kid. What’s your name?” you gave him a small smile.

He looked at the three of you before walking away. You looked a little shocked as Andrea ran after him.

“His name is Lucas.” the sheriff said.

You continued to watch as you saw Andrea sit next to him, and give him crayons. He was drawing.

Your eyes watered a bit.

“My grandson’s been through a lot lately,” you heard the sheriff say to Sam.

You zoned out as they continued talking.

“(Y/N)? You okay?” Sam asked softly.

You inhaled deeply, wiping your face.

“What? Yeah, let’s go,” you replied.

“Okay then,” Sam muttered, walking behind you.

Dean stopped, asking Andrea for directions to a hotel, before asking her to walk you three there.

“What was that? In the sheriff’s office?” Sam asked you, as the two of you walked behind Dean and Andrea.

“What are you talking about?” you lied.

“You were about to cry,” he said.

“Cramps, Sammy,” you lied.

“Uhm, eww. Nevermind,” he replied.

“Kids are the best,” you overheard Dean say to Andrea.

Yeah, they are you thought to yourself.

“And here’s the hotel. Two blocks, as I said.” she turned to face the three of you.

“Thanks,” Dean smiled.

She sighed.

“Must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line,” she sassed Dean as she walked away.

You turned to Sam as the two of you tried to hold in your laughs.

“ ‘Kids are the best’? You don’t even like kids,” Sam said.

“I love kids,” Dean turned to Sam.

“Name three children you even know,” Sam said.

He would’ve known my kid, you thought. Shut up, (Y/N), focus on the hunt you told yourself.

He hesitated. “Well, you and (Y/N/N) are children,” he said.

You let out a small laugh before walking into the hotel.

“She’s acting weird, right?” Sam asked Dean.

“Yeah, thought it was just me,” Dean replied.

“Where was she when she was away from you for that year?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know. Only Dad does,” Dean shrugged.

“You don’t think she…. was pregnant?” Sam asked.

“What? No. (Y/N) would’ve told me,” Dean said. The two of them sighed before walking into the hotel.

--------

“So, there’s the three drowning victims this year,” Sam started.

“And before that?” Dean asked.

You sat next to Sam as he read old news articles from his laptop.

“Yeah, six more, spread out over the past 35 years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there’s something out there, it’s picking up its pace,” Sam said, showing you the articles.

“So, we got a lake monster on a binge? This whole lake monster theory, it bugs me,” Sam sighed.

“Why?” you asked. Dean stood behind Sam.

“Loch Ness, Lake Champlain - there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts. But here, almost nothing. Whatever’s out there, no one’s living to talk about it.” Sam explained. He opened up a list of victims.

You saw Dean’s eyes widen.

“Wait, Bar, Christopher Bar. Where have I heard that name before?”, Dean said, pointing to the screen.

“Andrea. Her last name’s Bar.” you pointed out.

Sam clicked the article. It was a picture of Lucas, with his hair and clothes wet, wrapped in a towel.

“He’s Andrea’s husband, and Lucas’ father,” Sam read the article.

“Apparently, he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned… two hours before the kid got rescued,” Sam said.

“Looks like we have an eyewitness after all,” Sam said.

“No wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn’t something you just get over,” Dean said.

“Well, let’s go to the park,” you said.

----

“Can we join you?” Sam asked, spotting Andrea sitting on a bench.

“I’m here with my son,” she smiled.

“Oh, can I say hi?” you said, walking to him.

Sam and Dean sat next to Andrea, talking to her.

“Hey, how’s it going?” you asked, bending to his height.

He continued sitting there, drawing.

“You know, my brothers used to play with these,” you noticed the toy soldiers next to him.

He continued to ignore you.

You sighed, sitting next to him.

“You know, I think that you can hear me, you just don’t wanna talk,” you started.

“I don’t know what happened to your dad, but I know it was something really bad. And I know how you feel,” you said.

“When I was younger, I saw something,” you remembered, thinking back to Mary.

“Well, maybe you don’t think anyone will listen to you, or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don’t have to say anything, you can even draw a picture of what you saw, with your Dad,” you said.

“Okay, no problem. Take care, Lucas,” you gave him a pat on his head before walking to Sam, Dean, and Andrea.

“He hasn’t said a word to me, not since the accident,” Andrea sighed.

“Yeah, we heard. Sorry,” Dean said.

“What are the doctors saying?” Sam asked.

“That it’s some kind of post-traumatic stress,” she said.

“That can’t be easy for any of you,” Sam said.

“We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot,” Andrea nodded.

She looked at Dean.

“It’s just… when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw….” Andrea said softly.

“Yeah, kids are strong. You’d be surprised with what they can deal with,” you gave a soft smile. Now, Mary was the only one on your mind.

“Yeah, it’s just…. oh hey, sweetie,” Andrea said, as Lucas walked from behind you.

He handed you a drawing of a cabin.

“Thanks,” you gave him a smile.

He continued looking down, walking away.

“That was….. Lucas doesn’t ever give things to people. He doesn’t communicate with them,” Andrea said, surprised.

“Yeah, well, (Y/N) has a way with kids,” Dean smiled.

You felt your heart drop but ignored it.

“Yeah, uhm, it was good seeing you, but we have to be on our way now,” you smile at Andrea, walking off as you let a tear fall, but quickly wiped away the rest.

----

“So, I think it’s safe to say we can rule out Nessie,” Sam said, walking into the hotel room.

“What do you mean?” you asked, sitting across from him and Dean.

“I just drove past the Carlton House. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead,” Sam said.

“Drowned?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, in the sink,” Sam replied.

“What the hell?” you said, sighing.

“So, this isn’t a creature. We’re dealing with something else.” Dean said.

“Yeah, but what?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know. A water wraith? Maybe some kind of demon?” Dean suggested.

“Well, I wouldn’t cross out spirit either,” you said.

“How could it be a spirit?” Dean asked.

“Well, I don’t know. It went after both of Bill Carlton’s children. I mean, who drowns in a sink?” you said.

“So, he’s probably involved somehow,” Dean started.

“Wait, I’ve been asking around, and Lucas’ dad, Bill Carlton’s godson,” Sam pointed out.

“Well, then let’s go pay Mr.Carlton a visit.”

----

“Mr.Carlton? We’d like to ask you a few questions,” Sam said, walking up to Mr.Carlton. He was on the same bench he was the previous day, still in shock. You felt his pain.

“We’re with the department of-” Dean started.

“I don’t care which department you’re with. I’ve answered enough questions today,” he replied shakily.

“Mr.Carlton,” you started.

“My children are gone,” you felt a pang in your chest.

“Sam, Dean, will you give me a moment alone with Mr.Carlton?” you said softly.

They looked at you, confused, before nodding and walking away.

“Mr.Carlton, I know it’s not easy, dealing with your children’s death. I know how you feel. But, me and my partners are trying to do everything we can to help you. You just… you need you to answer a few questions,” you said, taking deep breaths.

“Losing your children, it’s a feeling worse than death,” he said.

“I know,” you nodded.

“Just please… go away,” he cried softly.

“I-I get it. But, if you want to help us, if you want to avenge your kids, then give us a call. Me and you both know that something’s not right here,” you said softly.

He looked away from you, looking to the lake. You sighed, walking to Sam and Dean.

“Anything?” Dean asked.

“No, but he does know something’s going on,” you said.

“Wait….. Maybe he’s not the only one who knows what’s going on. (Y/N), where’s the picture Lucas gave you?” Dean asked.

You handed him the drawing from your pocket.

“I don’t think he’s the only one that knows something,” Dean held the drawing up, comparing it to the Carlton House. It was the house in the drawing.

----

“I’m sorry, I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Andrea said.

“I just need to talk to him, for a few minutes,” you said.

“He won’t say anything, What good’s it gonna do?” she argued.

“Andrea, we think more people might get hurt,” Sam explained.

“We think something’s out there,” Dean said.

“My husband, the others. They drowned, that’s all,” she said, getting upset.

“If you truly believe that, then we’ll go,” you started.

“But if you think there’s even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let her talk to your son,” Dean finished your words.

She hesitated before answering.

“Fine, He’s down the hall, first door on the left,” she said.

“Thank you,” you nodded, walking to his room.

He sat on the ground, with his toy soldiers surrounding him while he drew.

“Hey, Lucas. Do you remember me?” you asked, squatting next to him.

He didn’t reply, as expected, but you noticed his drawings. All the same drawing of a red bike.

“Uhm, I just wanted to thank you for your last drawing, but I need your help again,” you said.

Dean handed you the drawing he drew before.

“How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen?” he continued drawing.

“M-Maybe you could nod your head yes or no for me,” you said.

“You’re scared,” you noticed.

“It’s okay, I understand. When I was a child, I saw something really, really bad happen to my mom, and I was scared too. I didn’t feel like talking, just like you. But, my mom….” you took a breath.

“I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about it every day,” you could feel your eyes water.

“And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too,” you said softly.

He stopped drawing, looking up at you. After a moment, he handed you another drawing. It had the red bike, a man, a church, it seemed, and another house.

“Thanks, Lucas,” you smiled, taking the drawing and standing up.

“Thank you, Andrea,” you said, as the three of you walked off.

“(Y/N), I-I didn’t know you saw Mom,” Sam started.

“I know. It’s weird when you’re that young, you don’t remember anything. That’s the only thing I remember,” you sniffled.

The three of you sat in the car and drove off.

----

“Andrea said he never drew like that till after his dad died,” you handed the drawing to Sam.

“There are cases going through a traumatic experience, could make certain people more sensitive to premonitions, or psychic tendencies,” Sam started.

“What if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?”, Dean asked.

“It’s only a matter of time before someone else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please,” Dean said.

“Okay, fine. We have another house to find,” Sam said.

“In this county alone, there’s about a thousand yellow two-stories,” Dean groaned.

You drifted from their conversations, texting John again.

This case is hard. It’s bringing up all my unwanted memories from the past, like mom, like my son.

I can’t believe I’ve kept all these secrets from Sam and Dean. Is it too late to tell them?

I just feel sick.

“(Y/N), are you alive back there?” Dean called you.

“Yeah,” you said, turning off your phone.

“We haven’t heard a peep from you this entire car ride. Are you okay?” Dean asked.

“I’m fine. Where are we going anyway?” you asked.

“We’re finding the church in Lucas’ drawing,”

----

“We’re sorry to bother you, ma’am, but does a little boy live here by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle,” Dean asked the elder woman.

“No, sir. Not for a very long time. Peter’s been gone 35 years now,” she sighed.

“The police never…. I never had any idea what happened,” she explained, looking at a photo of him.

“He just disappeared,” she turned to the three of you.

“Losing him, it was, you know, it’s worse than dying,” she said shakily.

Sam nudged you softly, pointing to the toy soldiers on the table. You nodded at him.

“Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?” you asked.

“He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up,” she replied.

You nodded your head softly as you looked around a bit, spotting a picture with Peter and another boy in the mirror.

You looked at the picture before looking at the back, seeing the names.

“Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, 1970,” you read aloud.

You raised an eyebrow, giving Sam and Dean a look.

“Okay, thank you for your time, ma’am,” Dean said as the three of you headed out the door.

----

“So, Peter Sweeney disappeared and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow,” Sam started.

“Yeah, it kinda seemed like he was hiding something,” Dean said.

“And Bill, the people he loves, they’re all getting punished,” Sam said.

“So maybe Bill did something? Maybe Bill killed him?” you suggested.

“Yeah, Peter’s spirit would be furious. He’d want revenge, it’s possible,” Dean agreed.

Dean drove once again to the Carlton house as you three got out of the car, looking for him.

“Sam, Dean,” you said, seeing Mr.Carlton on a boat, driving out in the water.

“Oh, shi-” the three of you ran to the dock, yelling for Mr.Carlton to turn back.

“Mr.Carlton! You need to come back! Turn around!” Dean shouted.

“Turn the boat around! Get out of the water!” you yelled.

He looked back at the three of you, with watery eyes. You heard a noise as something flipped the boat over, killing him.

“Damn it.”

----

The three of you walked into the police station, seeing Andrea sitting with Lucas, who looked upset.

“Sam, Dean, (Y/N),” Andrea said, surprised to see you three.

“What are you doing here?” the sheriff asked her.

“I bought you dinner,” she replied

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I just don’t have the time,” he sighed.

She looked at Dean.

“I heard about Bill Carlton, is it true? Is something on with the lake?” Andrea asked.

“Right now, we don’t know what the truth is, but I think it might be better if you and Lucas went home,” the sheriff said.

Lucas’ head shot up, as he gave the sheriff a worried look. He ran to you, pulling on your sleeve.

“Lucas, hey. What is it? What’s wrong?” you asked, bending down to him.

His eyes watered, as he continued holding onto you.

“Lucas, it’s okay. It’s okay,” Andrea said, trying to hold him.

“Hey, hey, Lucas. It’s okay,” you pulled away from him softly.

Andrea held him, rushing him out of the station. He turned back to you, giving you a look. You knew that look, something was wrong.

You watched him leave, looking concerned before the three of you walked into the sheriff’s office.

“O-Okay, so you’re telling me you see…. something attack Bill’s boat, sending him, who is a very good swimmer by the way, into the drink and you never see him again?” the sheriff asked, a bit skeptical at your story.

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Dean replied, looking at you and Sam.

“And I’m supposed to believe this even though I’ve already sonar swept that entire lake and what you’re describing is impossible and you’re not really wildlife service,” he added.

You looked to him, a little shocked. Not saying he was wrong, but how did he know?

“That’s right, I called the department. They’ve never heard of you three,” he said, crossing his arms.

“See, now that we can explain,” Dean started, motioning to you.

“Enough, please. The only reason you’re breathing free air is one of Bill’s neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton’s disappearance, or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you can get in your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don’t ever darken my doorstep again,” he said, raising his voice.

Well, he was clearly unamused.

You looked at Sam.

“Door number two sounds good,” you and Dean nodded in agreement.

“That’s the one I’d pick,”

----

“Dean, please. You saw his face. He was scared. Just a quick peek, please,” you begged.

“(Y/N), we told the sheriff we’re leaving. I don’t want us in jail,” Sam sighed.

“Dean?” you asked.

He froze for a minute. If he turned left, we would be out of this town. But, if he turned right, you could check on Lucas.

After a long minute of hesitation, he turned right.

“(Y/N), this job’s over. Peter killed Bill, it’s over,” Sam said, annoyed.

“Well, what if we’re wrong? What if we missed something, and we leave? More people get killed,” you sighed.

“Oh, come on (Y/N),” he groaned.

“You saw Lucas’ face. He was really scared. I’m not leaving town till I know that he’s okay,” you said, crossing your arms.

You saw Dean mouth something to Sam, as Sam went quiet.

“Fine,”

----

You walked to their front door, along with Sam and Dean.

“It’s late, are you sure about this?” Dean asked you.

Before you could ring the doorbell, Lucas opened the door, hyperventilating.

“Lucas? What’s wrong?” you said, panicking

He ran up the stairs, to a locked door, which you knew to be the bathroom. There was water leaking from under it.

He started banging at the door. You pulled him back, as Dean kicked the door open. He and Sam ran into the bathroom, pulling out Andrea from drowning. You held on Lucas, trying to calm him down.

----

You and Dean looked through their books, trying to find anything on the sheriff. It wasn’t an accident that Peter went after Andrea.

“(Y/N),” Dean said.

“Yeah?” you were looking in the bookshelf across from you.

“You tell me everything, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course,” you said. You hated lying to him.

“There’s no big secret you hid from me?” he asked.

“No….. why?” you asked.

“Sammy thinks you were pregnant once,” you felt your body go cold.

“But then I told him, there was no way. Because you tell me everything. And you would’ve told me if you were pregnant,” he said.

You felt a few tears fall, but you ignored it.

“Dean,” you said softly.

He put his hand on your shoulder, turning you around. He wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Dean, this isn’t the time for this. Please, let’s talk later. We’re on a hunt,” you sniffled.

“Okay, fine” he nodded his head.

You two continued looking, as he called you again.

“(Y/N),” you went to him, seeing him hold a book. Jake - 12 years old

Your eyes widened, as you saw a picture of an old boy scout troop.

With the sheriff, and Bill Carlton.

----

“Do you recognize the kids in this picture?” Dean asked Andrea, putting the book on the table in front of her.

“What? Uh, no, except that’s my dad, right there. He must’ve been around 12 in these pictures.” she pointed to the picture.

“The connection wasn’t to Bill Carlton. It must’ve been to the sheriff,” Dean started, looking to you and Sam.

“Maybe it was Bill and the sheriff, they were both involved with Peter,” Sam realized.

You looked to your side, seeing Lucas look out the window.

“Chris… what about my dad, what are you talking about?” Andrea asked.

“Lucas? Lucas, what is it?” you asked, walking to him.

He turned to the door, walking out, motioning you to follow him.

“Lucas?” Andrea called, also following him.

He led you four to the middle of the yeard, which was surrounded by trees.

“Take Lucas inside and stay there,” Dean told Andrea.

She nodded her head, pulling Lucas to the house.

The three of you took your shovels, digging into the dirt. You heard a clang as Sam hit something.

He looked up at you and Dean before the three of you pulled something out of the ground.

It was a red bike. It was Peter’s red bike.

“Peter’s bike,” Sam breathed out.

“Who are you?” you heard the sheriff’s voice from behind you, as he cocked his gun, pointing it at Sam.

“Put the gun down, Jake,” you said as Sam raised his hands up.

“How did you know that was there?” he asked.

“What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake, and buried his bike?” Dean said.

“You can’t bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried,” you said.

“What the hell are you talking about?” the sheriff asked.

“You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney 35 years ago. That’s what the hell we’re talking about,” Dean replied.

“Dad!” Andrea yelled, running to you four.

“And now you have one seriously pissed off spirit,” Dean finished.

“It’s gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It’s gonna drown them,” Sam said.

“It’s gonna drag their bodies to god-knows-where, so you can feel the same pain Peter’s mom felt. And then, after that, it’s gonna take you, and it’s not gonna stop until it does,” you tried to reason with the sheriff.

“And how do you know that?” he asked.

“Because that’s exactly what it did to Bill Carlton,” Sam said.

“Listen to yourselves, all three of you. You’re insane,” he said, continuing to point the gun at Sam.

“We don’t really give a rat’s ass what you think of us, but if we’re gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them,” Dean said.

“Just tell me you buried him. That you didn’t just let him go into the lake,” you said.

“Dad, is any of this true?” Andrea asked, her voice shaky.

“No, they’re liars and they’re dangerous,” the sheriff said quickly.

“Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me,” Andrea yelled.

You tried to focus on the rest of the conversation, trying to ignore your pounding headache.

Not again, please, not again you begged.

You scrunched your eyes closed, grabbing your head.

“A-Andrea, w-where’s Lucas?” you groaned.

“W- he’s in the….. Oh my god!” she gasped, seeing Lucas by the lake.

The five of you ran to the lake, calling for Lucas to get away from the lake.

You saw Peter pull him into the lake.

You ran, jumping into the lake with Sam and Dean.

You dived your head underwater, looking for Lucas.

“No, Jake!” you heard Sam yell. You saw Peter grab his leg, drowning him.

You heard Andrea let out a cry.

“Oh my god,” you said quietly.

You went underwater, trying to find him again. When you came back up for air, you saw Lucas, unconscious in Dean’s arms. You let out a breath of relief.

He was okay

----

“Okay, the case is over. You said we’ll talk when the case is over,” Dean crossed his arms, leaning against the wall in the motel.

“About what?” Sam raised his eyebrow, looking between the two of you.

“Dean,” you started.

“(Y/N)” he replied.

He walked to the bed, holding your hand and pulling you next to him. Sam walked to you two also, sitting on your other side.

“O-Okay, well,” you took a deep breath, looking forward, away from Sam and Dean.

“A-After….uhm, when I left….” you stuttered, not sure where to start.

“It’s us. You don’t have to keep this from us anymore,” Dean said softly.

A tear fell from your eye.

“I found out I was pregnant, and Dad said he’d help me get out of this life. That it wasn’t safe f-for me anymore,” your voice was shaking.

Sam and Dean were quiet, listening to you.

“I-I don’t… it happened so fast…. I-It was,” you tried to speak, holding in your cries.

Dean wrapped his arms around you, rocking you gently like you did when you were kids. Every time something was wrong, the two of you would hug each other, rocking each other softly, calming down one another.

“I’m so, so sorry, (Y/N),” Sam said, hugging you too.

You cried softly, holding onto Sam and Dean.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Dad told me not to tell anyone,” you started.

“It’s okay,” Dean replied softly.

“It’s okay,”

----

The three of you walked to the Impala, getting ready to leave.

“Sam, (Y/N), Dean,” you heard Andrea call you three.

You turned around, seeing her and Lucas walk over to the three of you.

“We made you some lunch for the way. Lucas insisted on making you these sandwiches,” she smiled down at Lucas.

“Can I give it to them now?” he asked.

“Of course,” Andrea replied.

“Well, let’s go load these into the car, yeah?” you smiled to Lucas, holding his hand and walking off with him.

“Alright, since you’re gonna be talking now, you have to remember this phrase. I want you to repeat it back to me,” you told him. You leaned onto the car.

“Zeppelin rules!” he exclaimed.

“That’s right. Up high,” you gave him a high five as he smiled.

“Take care of yourself, kid,” you said.

You looked to the side, watching as you saw Andrea kiss Dean.

You smiled, before looking back to Lucas.

“We have to go now, it looks like. Take care, kiddo,” you said. He nodded, running off to Andrea.

“Let’s hit the road. We’re losing daylight,” Dean said, walking to the front seat.

“You’re blushing,” you teased him.

“Shut up, Let’s go,” the three of you sat in the car, driving off.

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