#if the body is in the window seat then we can throw in Arsenic and Old Lace too

[dafukdidiwatch]

Slenderman meets Tell Tale Heart

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Matrue [Guns, Violence, Unnamed Character Deaths]

Prompt: Savage, Deadly

Summary: Perhaps having an affair with Russian spy in the middle of the cold war wasn't a good idea, particularly when Freed worked for the American Secret Service. But it was fine, America and Russia were never going to actually fight. Killing those they saw as traitors, however, was apparently a different story.

Notes: This is the forth Fraxus Week submission, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus. This story has gunshots, death and description of blood, so be careful if those might affect you. If that's not something you worry about, I hope you enjoy it.

Links: Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

A War to Be Ridiculed

Year: 1963

Location: Moscow, Russia

When their affair had started, Freed had been paranoid. He'd picked up the habit of looking over his shoulder, trying to see if another American agent might have discovered his behaviour and was trailing him to get evidence against him. At the time, the paranoia had seemed justified: an American secret service operative sleeping with a Russian secret service operative in the middle of an international stalemate between nuclear superpowers was hardly something that would be celebrated.

The paranoia had died out fairly quickly. Now Freed's main concern was how he'd spin his meeting in the quaint little café as a business expense.

Russian pasties were divine, but pricey.

His bosses would have a fit if they knew what he was doing. Hell: half of America would brand him a traitor if they knew he'd even thought about Laxus in that way. But America seemed to throw a fit over anything for the past few years. A Russian so much as coughing unexpectedly seemed to be enough provocation for an international incident.

Ridiculous, the lot of them. Freed was just thankful that he'd found a way to profit from them.

"What can I get for you, sir?" A waiter asked.

"Just a tea," Freed requested, leaning back in his chair. His Russian was perfect both in accent and in syntax. "I'm waiting for a guest; I expect we'll be eating when he arrives. He'll have a coffee when he gets here."

"Of course."

The man left, and Freed spared a glance towards the door. He had gotten there early, he knew that, but he was starting to get impatient. His job – when he chose to do it – was a stressful one. It was what he had signed up for, of course, and the thrill of it was truly exhilarating. But sometimes the pressure of it all got on top of him, and he had come to grown fond of these meetings in their infrequency.

It was a twisted situation, he supposed. He was sent to Russia on a two-year undercover operation, trying to uncover all information that the enemy forces had on their attack plans. For the first few months, Freed had been diligent in his actions, only to find that Russia had as much on them as they had on Russia. Nothing.

Propaganda was a fascinating thing. Everyone back home seemed to think the bombs would be dropping any moment. They wouldn't. Both sides were shit-scared of doing anything.

Once Freed had discovered this, he had reported back to his commanders and had been told to remain there for the rest of the mission and continue gathering intel. Three more months of gaining the respect and trust of Russian diplomats and governmental workers had led to nothing of interest. Both countries were entirely focused on their defensive measures in case the other country attacked, so nobody had any intention on actually attacking. It was a big, boring stalemate that would never actually come to blows.

It was getting rather tedious, and then Laxus came along. A thrilling, beautiful enemy with stunningly blue eyes and a sense of menace and distrust that drove Freed wild.

Their meeting had been a setup, it was obvious. Freed's rise in Russian society had been suspicious, and so the Russian government had wanted to better understand him and the threat he posed. Freed's alias had been a businessman wanting to help the government and in return get investments, Laxus' alias was that of a rich man wanting to invest money and get a return. Freed had known what Laxus was doing, and Laxus had known what Freed was doing.

Still, pretending he was in the dark about Laxus' true intentions was fun. They both spun lies, tried to catch the other out, and there was the constant reminder that they both had weapons concealed, and the person who slipped up first would end up dead where he stood.

The thrill was brilliant.

Their third meeting had been where Laxus had taken things further. He'd worn a suit so snug nothing could be hidden if you were determined to see it. Freed had gotten chills from the sight of it, and he couldn't remember if he was more excited by the curve of the man's ass or the outline of his gun against his chest. Laxus was silently proposing advancement in their roleplay: increase the danger and increase the pleasure.

Freed almost thought it might be an interrogation tactic, a way for Freed to spill his guts once sated. After their night together it was clear Laxus saw the war in the same way Freed did. Pointless, without risk, and something that should be mocked. He wanted Freed; he didn't want information.

You went submissive if you wanted intel. That night, Laxus had been anything but.

And so, their affair had begun. At first it was just sex, with the occasional meeting of their businessman and investor character to keep up their charade. Then, as time went on and they got more comfortable, their meetings became more public, and their facades dropped slightly. They could only meet once a month or so – they had to do their jobs, of course – but it was the most fun Freed had had in years.

Eventually, the quaint little bell above the door rang, and Freed looked to see the object of his affections walking in. Say what you want about Russia; they knew how to breed a handsome man. Broad shoulders, stern features, trim waists, and large thighs. What more could a man ask for?

Freed watched as Laxus spoke to the host of the café, before being guided to sit opposite him. Freed stood and shook his hand as if they were colleagues, and they underwent their normal childishly competitive hand squeezing ritual. Laxus relented first this time, taking a seat at the table after Freed motioned for him to do so. The host left them alone, and it took a moment for Laxus to break the silence.

"So," Laxus rumbled in his beautifully accented, deep voice. "You've not been murdered."

"I'm afraid so," Freed smirked. "Nor you, it seems. We should congratulate ourselves."

"We should," Laxus agreed, mirroring Freed's expression. "How so?"

"I'm sure we're both creative enough to think of something," Freed purred as he saw the waiter approaching with their drinks.

Under the cover of the tablecloth, he brought his foot to slowly glide against Laxus' calf. He raised it higher as the man placed the two drinks on the table and asked if they wanted anything else. Freed allowed Laxus to answer, putting pressure on the part of his thigh his foot found rested at. Laxus didn't stammer or blush at the action – he was a professional, after all – but Freed knew he was just a little bit more tense. He spoke calmly and dismissed the waiter, glaring at Freed once he was gone.

"You wanna get us caught?" He growled.

"If we got caught, it would be entirely your fault," Freed hummed. "Keeping a straight face is rather standard for what we do."

"I'll get you back for it," Laxus promised.

"I certainly hope so."

Freed raised his teacup to his lips, then halted.

He sniffed as subtly as he could, then slowly brought the teacup back down to the saucer.

Arsenic.

Someone wanted to poison him.

Instincts took over, and a list of questions needed to be answered. Who wanted to kill him? Who in the café was behind the attempt? Who outside of the café might be involved? Who had noticed he hadn't actually drunk anything? Where was the quickest way to safety? How quickly could he leave the country without anyone noticing? Was this anything to do with Laxus? Had Laxus been an informant, or was he in as much danger as Freed was?

As he watched Laxus raise his own drink to his lips, Freed quickly took a chance on the latter question. Before the drink could touch his lips, Freed pressed his foot firmly against Laxus'. The flirtatious teasing was now overpowered by strength, and Laxus paused. Freed glanced to the drink with only his eyes, then gave Laxus a meaningful look.

Laxus sniffed his own drink, then brought it back to the table without drinking.

Fuck. This was a setup for them both.

They had to assume everyone around them was involved. Freed had absently noticed how there was nobody younger than twenty in the café despite families milling around the square. He'd been placed at a table in the centre of the room as well, secluded and in the centre of attention. Likely everyone was an agent of some kind, and they all had been watching them from the moment he arrived. This was manageable.

"You must tell me about your sister's birthday," Laxus said, as if the revelation hadn't happened. "She's turning twelve, correct?"

Twelve. There were twelve agents in the room. That was passable, given some luck. But they needed to know the situation outside of the café as well.

"She is," Freed nodded, leaning back in his chair, casually glancing out of the window. He caught a glimpse of something reflective from atop the town hall, and sighed. "Her cousin is getting rather angry about it, apparently her mother couldn't afford the gift she wanted, and so they've been fighting. But you know how young girls are, always sniping at one another."

"I suppose so," Laxus agreed, body tensing slightly. "I don't know how I'd deal with them. I'd want to just leave the situation behind me, but sometimes even doing that means you'll get caught in the crossfire."

They agreed then. They couldn't just walk out.

"It is rather an impossible situation," Freed chuckled, idly toying with the teaspoon as if uncaring. "Sometimes it feels like you can't escape family, doesn't it?"

"Well I don't see any of my family here," Laxus laughed. He didn't recognise any agents.

"Nor do I," Freed agreed. "Thank heavens for small mercies."

They could be facing either Russian or American forces. They had to assume that, as they'd set up their assassination attempts when the two were meeting up, either side had come to know about the situation and saw them both as too big of a risk. Whoever wanted them dead, it would end up with them both on a most wanted list. This was bad.

Conversation without drinking could only last them so long. Eventually, any agents in the café would know their attempt had been discovered, and they'd act. No doubt they'd be armed to the teeth. A bloodbath was inevitable, they just needed to be smart, and they'd survive it.

"The food here is divine," Laxus commented, picking up his menu again. "The last time I ate here, I nearly congratulated the chef."

"Perhaps this time you will."

They'd be leaving through the kitchen then. The sniper was positioned so that he could shoot through the window, so probably they'd not be prepared for any kind of escape, certainly not one through the back alleys. So long as they could fight their way to the back, they should be able to outrun them and get somewhere safer. If even for a few moments, it was better than being in the jaws of their trap.

Just as Freed was about to continue the conversation, he caught something in the reflection of the window. A man tucked around the corner of the café's counter was looking directly at them both, hand scratching at his thigh where a gun most likely was hidden. Damn.

They hadn't finished a plan, and they were suspicious. But it was avoidable.

Freed, very slowly, wrapped a hand around his teacup and brought it up. Laxus watched, face unmoving but arms tensing. Freed tried to make his movements look loose and uncaring as he brought the teacup to his lips. He tipped it upwards, clenching his lips shut as tight as they could be. The hot tea bumped against his lips and stung – either from the arsenic of just the heat of the drink – and he swallowed as if drinking. He could only hope that had sated them.

"Good?" Laxus asked, voice a little stilted.

"Enough," Freed dismissed. "I do wish I'd ordered something a little stronger. Though I suppose it's a little early in the day for that." He casually looked over his shoulder to the clock, to see it was eleven fifty-eight. Perfect. "To think, in two minutes it would have been perfectly fine."

"It's a bastard, for sure," Laxus grinned, gently tapping his knuckle against the table in a sign of acknowledgement.

When the clock struck twelve, they'd go.

What followed was a tense minute and a half, where they attempted to fill the silence with general conversation. Neither man touched their drinks, but it seemed Freed pretending to drink his tea had been enough to convince them that their plan was working. They talked about nothing, though their eyes darted from place to place to make sure they wouldn't be attacked before they could move. The seconds seemed to stretch into an eternity.

Eventually, the bells of the grandfather clock rung, and they both spurted into movements.

They stood, chairs flying back as they reached for their weapons. Freed felt the wind of a bullet passing past him as he shunted himself to the left, and the back cushion of the chair exploded into feathers and dust. Nobody in the café screamed nor jolted; they'd been expecting it, meaning they were all agents sent to kill them. Good, no civilians made things simple.

Freed shot the man opposite him in the chest, a little to the left of his heart. The man staggered back, dropping his own gun as the sound filled the room. Freed quickly emptied another bullet into the man's skull. One down.

Laxus grabbed Freed's shoulders and shoved him back, banging him into a table. Freed watched slightly dazed as Laxus raised his own gun and emptied some shells into an elderly man and a young woman, who had been acting as a father and daughter. The man lurched back, falling against the window that had now been splattered in blood. The woman, who had been shot in the side rather than anywhere vital, tried to rush forward. She was holding a steak knife rather than a gun, and Freed quickly picked up a serving tray and struck her in the neck with it. He did so multiple times, before she stumbled to the ground, where Freed kicked her in the head enough times to knock her out. Either that or kill her.

Nine left.

When the window shattered again from another shot from the sniper's gun, both Freed and Laxus took refuse behind the counter. Wood splintered above them, and they could hear the sound of the other agents getting closer. Gunshots were near constant, blocking off their route to the kitchen and back entrance.

A lull in the shooting came, and Freed rose above the counter with his own gun in hand. He had expected that, with the number of agents involved, they wouldn't be as well trained as Freed and Laxus, and as such had to reload at the same time. Freed quickly shot the nearest agent, a woman in her fifties who was quickly spinning the barrel of her pistol. Freed's bullet landed between her eyes, and she staggered her final movements before falling to the ground in a lifeless pile.

Laxus, in an attempt to save bullets, picked up a sharp knife that had been put aside for cleaning, and threw it through the air. It struck a nearby agent in the cheek, and he stumbled back and grabbed at the deep, bleeding gash in his jaw. Not dead, nor incapacitated, but distracted.

Another agent shoved the bleeding man forward to get a better shot at Laxus and Freed, but Laxus acted faster. This time he did use his gun, and Freed almost winced as he saw the bullet slam into his face, eyeball exploding as the man screamed in pain. He fell to the ground, crumpling up and screaming as he rolled around the floor. Freed might have felt sorry for him, but he was an assassin, so mercy was the last thing on his mind.

An explosion of glass shattered behind Freed, and he winced as glass cut into his cheek. He grabbed Laxus' shoulder and dragged him down again.

There were seven agents unharmed and two badly injured. Feasibly they could kill them all, but it was a miracle they hadn't been hurt yet and their luck would run out. They had limited bullets available, and their impromptu weapons would progressively get less and less effective. They needed to leave and run, because if they didn't then logic dictated they would be killed. The kitchen staff seemed to have fled, so they were clearly not agents, meaning they had a clear escape route. They just needed to get across to the other side of the café without being killed.

"You go first," Laxus demanded. "I'll cover."

Freed nodded, and waited for another lull in the fighting. Knowing he needed to trust Laxus, he ran across the empty café without protection, ducking down to avoid the bullets flying towards him. He heard yelling and Laxus shooting, and hoped that Laxus was the cause rather than the victim. As he ran, he picked up the eyeball-less man's gun.

Once he was ducked behind the kitchen door, he tucked the agent's gun into his belt for later use and brandished his own gun. It was his turn to provide cover for Laxus, and he started by shooting at a woman with a pistol. She yelled and clutched her shoulder, though screamed when a bullet hit her forehead.

Freed shot as best he could as Laxus ran across the room and towards the kitchen. Freed only stopped when Laxus was inside, and the door had been slammed shut. Freed went to run, but Laxus placed a hand on his shoulder.

"What?"

"They'll pursue," Laxus grunted, moving a cabinet against the door.

"Yes, that's why we're running," Freed hissed.

"We need 'em dead. It's safer."

Rather than arguing, Freed decided that Laxus was right. They might not be top agents, but anyone left alive was a hazard to them. Three of them were completely unharmed and could track them. They needed to take any advantage they could get. Freed thought for a moment, before an idea hit him.

It took him a few seconds of routing through the kitchen to find what he needed: a gas canister for the kitchen's oven, and a blowtorch for their deserts. It was nasty and cheap, but it was a bomb. He removed his tie and quickly wrapped it around the handle of the blowtorch, holding down the trigger so that the flame would be constantly ignited. He then placed the gas canister against the barricaded door, which was being banged against by the other agents.

"The torch powerful enough?" Laxus asked.

"In time, it will be," Freed nodded, resting the lit blowtorch against the metal canister. "We need to go."

They did. They ran through the winding back alleys, utilising their maze-like qualities as best they could. They couldn't be sure who was following them and how close they were, so their paces didn't waver, and their determination kept firm. Freed felt his body aching but couldn't stop, not when stopping might mean their lives were over.

Faster than expected, they reached the edge of Moskva River. They couldn't see any bridges to cross it, and running along the river to find one was practically advertising their location. Going back into the alleys wasn't a possibility, and as such they could only do one thing. They climbed the barricade and jumped in.

The water was freeing cold, and it took Freed a moment for his muscles to acclimatise. He brought himself to the surface and saw Laxus had done the same. If nothing else, the quick submersion in the water had washed most of the blood off them both. They both began to swim to the other side of the river, Freed silently plotting how they'd hide now that they were both soaking wet. No plans came to mind, and Freed found himself hoping that Laxus had an idea.

"Boat," Laxus rasped, and nodded his head. "Look like yer struggling."

Freed didn't question the demand, and his practices swimming gave way to thrashing and panicking. He put on a façade of dread, deciding to yell when he knew the boat was getting closer. Laxus wrapped his arms around him as if trying and failing to save him. The two men in the boat noticed, and were rediverting their trajectory immediately.

When the boat was close, they climbed aboard it. The men peppered them with questions, asking what had happened and if they were alright. It took them a moment to see the injuries the two men had sustained, and their weapons.

Freed raised his gun and pointed it at them. It wouldn't work, but he felt like they didn't know that.

"We're going to need your boat I'm afraid," He demanded. Laxus raised his own weapon.

"And yer clothes," Laxus added; always thinking ahead. Two men in drenched suits might be somewhat conspicuous as they traversed the waterways. Two men in fishing apparel would be less so. "Quickly."

The men, fools that they were, took the threat at face value. With stumbling hands they began to strip and hand over their clothes. Within moments, Freed and Laxus looked like any fishermen that you might see on a river, and they'd given the poor men their suits in an act of mercy. They looked absurd and cold, of course, but it was better than finding themselves naked in the streets. Not once did Laxus or Freed remove their guns from their targets.

"You will tell the authorities you were drunk, fell into the river by mistake, and that you're incredibly sorry for causing a ruckus," Freed demanded, voice icy.

"And if you mention us, we'll kill ya," Laxus threatened.

Just as one of the men went to argue, an ear-splitting explosion shook the city. A plume of smoke burst upwards behind them, and the men watched in horror and fear. Freed and Laxus didn't react, and instead nudged their guns forward and looked at the men with feral grins as screams and shouting filled the city.

---

Year: 1970 Location: UNKNOWN

Freed woke to the sound of grunting, and the now familiar sound of an axe meeting wood. He padded to the window of the small cabin, opened it, and looked down to watch as Laxus split the firewood. The man really was a sight to behold; unbridled masculinity in all of its glory. His muscles flexed and the axe splintered the wood spectacularly, and even now Freed felt a twisted thrill at the knowledge of what that man could do when called upon.

He bathed himself in the cold tin bath, and dressed quickly. He attached his gun to his belt and walked to their shared kitchen. He placed a kettle over the fire and began boiling it, walking outside and into the forest where they now called home.

The gun was pointless, in reality. They were nowhere near either of their home countries, where no doubt they had been touted as traitors and been deemed as instant kill targets. They weren't on the same damn continent, but Freed had learned his lesson about becoming complacent. It didn't matter that they were tucked away in a Scandinavian Forest, with only a small town of people knowing of their existence; he would remain armed as to best protect himself and his lover.

Also, the gun was useful in killing the dear.

Laxus grinned at him as he approached, placing the axe down and running a hand over his sweat drenched face. Freed was undeterred, kissing the man he called husband slowly and smoothly. Laxus wrapped an arm around his waist and grinned.

"Sleepin' in again, huh?" Laxus teased, still speaking his mother-tongue in his beautifully harsh accent. "Because it was your turn to cut wood today, I think."

"It was," Freed agreed. "And yet you seem to be doing it."

"Maybe I'll find a way to make you do it."

"Maybe you'll have to."

Both men smirked, tight hand's grasped tighter, and Laxus pulled Freed into a brutally incredible kiss, one he greedily returned.

[untothismeme]

ARSENIC AND OLD LACE (1944) SENTENCE STARTERS

“Aren't you insulted? Aren't you going to cry? Aren't you going to make a scene?” “He's quite harmless.“ “Look, men don't just get into window seats and die.” “How did the poison get in the wine?” “Dear, I think you're wrong.” “Oh, I was counting the first one, and that makes it twelve.” “How can I believe you?” “There are twelve men down in the cellar and you admit you poisoned them.” “Look, you can't do things like that.” “Even the cat is in on it.” “Have you ever tried to persuade him that he wasn't Teddy Roosevelt?” “Did everybody in Brooklyn know I was going to get married except me?” “Don't worry about Halloween. The pixies won't be out till after midnight.” “No, I’m not drunk, but you've given me an idea.” “Do you remember how he used to cut worms in two with his teeth?” “I’m sorry, a thing happened.” “The neighbors have been complaining, and the police are all set to throw him into a state institution.” “I probably should have told you this before but, you see... insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops.” “I mean, you wouldn't want to set up housekeeping in a padded cell. Oh, it would be bad.” “I couldn't wait to escape from this house. Now, I'm glad to escape back into it.“ “We got a hot stiff on our hands.” “My, how I’ve changed...” “Where did you get that face? Hollywood?” “Now, I suppose you're going to tell me that you're Boris Karloff!” “A taxi is waiting and now you want to sleep on a window seat?” “He wouldn't have died of pneumonia if I hadn't shot him.” “There's an elderly gentleman down there who seems to be very dead.” “I’m Woodrow Wilson. Go to bed.” “Well....bon voyage.” “The old ladies are just as good as you are!” “Yeah, what a play. When the curtain goes up the first thing you see is a dead body.” “You know, you were right about that fellow. He wasn't very bright.” “Besides, he said I looked like Boris Karloff.” “Ingenious! My compliments to the boys in the code department. “Don't do that. It never works- what do ya know, it worked.” “Certainly there are thirteen bodies in the cellar and there are hundreds more in the attic!” “AND I’M A COFFEE POT.”

[whichwaytowonderlandep]

Whatever It Takes | Ch. II

Pairings: (Hoseok/Reader) (Yoongi/Reader)

Genre: Romance, Angst

Words: 5,410

Tags: There’s no smut in this chapter, it’s basically a filler. Mentions of Violence, Introductions to new characters.

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The sweaty and bloody man kept trying to crawl away from his assailant, but to no avail. Hoseok's steel-glazed eyes run over him, badly injured, coughing up blood, heavily breathing on the floor. The man in front of him was too badly injured and heavily breathing on the floor – blood being coughed out of his lungs.  Hoseok tilts his head to the side, putting the lit cigarette to his lips as he took another long drag. He had a headache from listening to the man in front of him scream for mercy as Namjoon made the man in the floor beg for his life.

He lets out the smoke from his lungs, throwing the half gone cigarette to the ground before stepping on it with his eight hundred dollar designer shoes. He takes slow deliberate steps, the sound of his shoes echoing in the empty cement room in one of the many buildings that he owned.

"Please!"  the man groaned as Namjoon's shoe connected with his back, putting more pressure on the poor man's upper spine – making him lay flat on the ground as Hoseok stood in front of him. A smirk adorning his devilish face. He takes his hands out of his expensive Armani suit, kneeling down in front of the man with a smirk on his face. He tilts his head to the side as he tries to get a better look at the sweaty man’s face. “Where’s my fucking money?” He calmly asks again, the killer look in his eyes never wavering.

"I'll tell you everything I know, I'll — I will pay you back. I just need more time!"  he said with a groan as Namjoon puts even more pressure on his body.  Hoseok smile watches away, a bored expression now adorning his face as he stands up once again. His foot stepping on the man’s left hand – the sound of cracking filling the room.

They all make promises they can't keep when they're in a life or death situation. He never understood why people thought he would go to the worst case scenario, sure he’d tough them up a little but he would never kill someone who owed him money. Then he would never get his money back.

If only they could cooperate from the very beginning, they could've avoided so much pain and suffering and he could’ve avoided getting blood all over his shoes.

Namjoon watches with a stoic face as the man starts squirming from under his leather boot, trying to make one last escape even though his body couldn’t go any further. Namjoon had malice in his eyes, he wanted to finish the job he was given and as a man who loves his job, every mission that he is given he carries it out, without any problems. But on special cases like these, Hoseok took extra care of their guests – meaning some of them would get to live another day.

"What makes you think I want to know now?"  Hoseok said to the man as he stood up from the metal desk he was once leaning against.  Walking towards the injured man, before squatting down in front of him, tilting his head sideways as a smirk started to spread across his face.  "You've had plenty of time and yet you kept taking resources and money” Clicking his tongue, he continued, "and yet, you still haven't given anything back. You were just wasting my time and my money.”

"Now what do you think the others will think of me if I can't even control little weasels like you?"  He said as he rubbed at his chin, chuckling to himself. His hand grabbing onto the bloodied man’s hair before pulling it to look up at him. His nose was gushing and his left eye was swollen shut – Namjoon really didn’t hold back.

Hoseok looks up at Namjoon, a serious expression now replacing the relaxed and happy one, "Hold his hand steady" Hoseok’s deep voice sending chills down the man’s spine.

The man beneath him screams as Namjoon steps away from him and kneels down beside him before pulling his hand forward. Namjoon had placed his other foot on his wrist, crushing it down and keeping it from moving even an inch out of place. "Some people might call what you did to me, stealing.”

Hoseok smirks, a sense of power running through his veins as he sees the man before him tremble in fear – muttering and begging for another chance. "Do you know what we do to thieves around here?"

He doesn’t wait for an answer; he didn’t need one as he nods his head to Namjoon, walking over to the metal desk he was leaning against before pulling out the ringing phone from  the pocket of his jacket.

Hoseok was never that ruthless growing up, he didn’t find any joy or excitement in torturing other people. He wasn’t disgusted by it either, he just found that being seen as a hard tempered asshole who didn’t give a lot of second chances, works in this kind of business. So, he stuck with it – much to other people’s dismay.

Namjoon chuckles playfully like a kid on Christmas morning as he pulls out a pocket knife from his bag on the floor.  He steps on the man’s hand, crushing it under his boot as he tries to hold the squirming hand steady.

Hoseok walks over to the door, no longer interested in the current situation as he heard the man’s last attempt at saving his fingers. "No! No! Wait, I'll get you your mon-” Hoseok looks at the name flashing on the screen as he heard a blood curdling scream behind him.

Hoseok walks out of the warehouse, a look of disinterest on his face as he presses his finger to the answer button. “Talk fast” he said as he looked around the dark and empty alley. "I'm busy.”

Club One was one of the hottest clubs in the city. It was highly exclusive for the rich and famous and they had a tendency of only allowing certain people in. Every night the line would go around the corner – filled with hopefuls of twenty-one year old women and men  hoping to gain access inside for just a few minutes.

The lines seem to start as early as four in the afternoon, people always with the hopes of actually getting to go inside and to meet the famous VIPs of the night. It was safe to say not many got to enjoy it. The club itself was a pool for rich, famous people – actors, singers, and the like would visit the club often. It was also most drugs and weapons deals would come to life.

It’s a cesspool of ‘classy’ one night stands, prostitutes and copious amounts of drugs. Not that it could ever be proved by the police or any federal agencies, which was the only reason the club was even still running.

Hoseok steps out of the shiny black Mercedes, his leather coat hugging his frame tightly as he makes his way past the line of people waiting to get in. He continues to walk past the guard, who upon laying eyes on the man removed the rope from the middle of the door in a quick motion. “Evening, Sir.” The bouncer at the door greets him with a bow.

Hoseok doesn’t waste time or breath on him as he continues to make his way into the club — his club.

His shoes echoing across the long hallway as the muffled music becomes louder and much more clearer. He steps out onto the dance floor— into the club filled with colorful lights and sweaty bodies grinding on top of each other as they move to the beat of the music.

Hoseok doesn’t stay long, making his way towards the VIP Section of the club, where he knew most of his men were waiting for his arrival. He walks into the room, heading straight for the make-shift bar on the other side of the room, pouring himself three fingers of whiskey before throwing his very expensive jacket on the back of the chair at his desk.

“Glad you all could make it” his gruff voice, taking a long sip of the drink in his hand. His hard eyes move across the room, taking in the three people he trusted the most with his life. “Report”

With that one word, Park Jimin straightens up his back as he clears his throat. He sits on the edge of the sofa, Hoseok’s eyes instantly meeting his second in command. “Two first-class shipments are arriving this week, by boat.”

“From who this time?” Hoseok sits on the edge of his desk, putting down the now empty glass beside him. “Some kid named Taehyung, word on the street is… he can get you pretty much anything you want and in the time that you need it. Seokjin recommended him.”

Seokjin’s eyes snap away from the window at the mention of his name— his mind finally entering into the conversation. He looks towards his boss, gulping as all eyes are on him. “Where did you find him?”

“Hasn’t been on the street that long, but he made quite a name for himself in the last two months.” Seokjin’s voice fills the silence as he walks towards one of the many couches in the room before taking a seat. “He is discreet in what he does, I’ll vouch for him.”

Kim Seokjin was the go-to man for everything. He knew who was who, where to be at the right time —he had connections everywhere, which was one of the main reasons Hoseok has welcomed him with open arms. A great weapon to have in his arsenal.

“If you say he’s as good as you say he is, then I’ll take your word for it. Just make sure none of it traces back to me or the club.” Hoseok says, a warning tone in his voice. “If he gets caught -“

“I know, I’ll handle it. Your name will never come up.” Seokjin interrupts him, tilting his glass towards the man in charge before throwing it all back. The hard drink bringing nothing but a burning sensation in his chest as he feels himself getting sleepier.

“What else?” Hoseok moves the subject on, wanting nothing more than to get this meeting over and done with. He wanted to go downstairs, dance a little bit, definitely drink a lot and find some piece of ass to take home tonight.

“There’s a new invitation to the Giraldi Charity Gala, could mean new business and a way to make you stand out more” Seokjin mentions, knowing how important it was for them to be welcomed into society.

“Add it to the calendar” Hoseok repeats in a bored tone, throwing his head bad against the chair as he puts his feet up on the wooden table in front of him. His expensive and shiny shoes scuff at the wood as he pulls out another cigarette.

“Is there anything interesting and exciting happening?” He asks into the room for anyone to answer. He was becoming bored with the day to day life he had. He definitely thought this would all be a little more exciting. Maybe he was just expecting it all to be more easy when he decided to veer down this road.

Hoseok was a boy filled with ambition and dreams of becoming someone in life, he just took that as a ‘any means necessary’ kind of way.

“Did I forget to mention the VIP for the night?” Seokjin smirks, remembering what had caught all of his attention by the window right before the meeting. As the events coordinator in Hoseok’s life he had to know who was who and who would make a good partner in the business.

Seokjin was definitely not expecting the daughter of one of the most elusive and well known men in the business to be shaking her ass in the middle of his boss’s club.

“Who is it this time?” Hoseok inquires with a bored tone. “Some politicians kid sniffing drugs off one of the stripper’s bodies again? Let me guess, another drunk guy partying a little too much?”

“(Y/N) Ucello.” Seokjin drops the name with a knowing smile painted on his face, “Saul Ucello’s daughter, is shaking her barely covered ass in the middle of your dance floor as we speak” he smirks as he noticed the younger man’s eyes pop open at the mention of your very familiar name. He had heard stories of your father— stories that would instill fear in anybody who heard them, but not to Hoseok. But no, Hoseok looked up at the man as if he were a hero.

Saul Ucello was the reason he was even in this business, he had never seen the man — but that still didn’t mean he didn’t think of this man as a role model.

“You’re kidding!” Hoseok yells as he stands up like an excited child on Christmas morning, almost tripping over his feet as he quickly sprints to the window. He had seen some photos of you before— an idea of what you looked like in real life and almost always candid pictures taken by random people hired by other companies. He mostly knew of you, but just like your father, you were a ghost in this side of the business.

Not a lot of people could get close enough to you. It was like a once in a lifetime opportunity was happening right before his eyes.

You had taken it upon yourself to stake out the man of the hour on your own. You hadn’t known if Hoseok was going to be showing up tonight, but after following him around the past week you wanted to at least have some fun in the process. Your hips continue to move to the beat as you feel strings of hair sticking to your neck.

You were a sweaty mess and you were having too much fun to really care. Your life had mostly consisted of all work and no play — you should be able to let lose at least once in a while.

You breathe out a heavy sigh as you take this chance between songs to move towards the crowded bar. The cool black surface feeling good under your forearms as you lean on top of the counter — waving your hand around as you try to flag down one of the bartenders on the other end of the busy bar.

“You have better luck jumping over the bar and getting the drink yourself.” A deep voice startles you as hot breath hits the back of your neck. You quickly turn around to see none other than the Jung Hoseok — purple silk shirt slightly unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to his forearms as he reaches behind you. His body pressed softly against yours as his hand grasps the neck of one of the bottles left on the table, along with two glasses. He pours into one of them before sliding it across to you.

“Wouldn’t you get into trouble for that?” You smirk, grabbing onto the glass as you tilt its contents only to see whiskey shining back at you. “This is what someone would consider stealing, you know.” you decide to play along, smirking at the way he shrugs his shoulders in a nonchalant manner and pours into his own glass.

“I know the owner.” He replied nonchalantly, leaning in closer to you as he gives you a once over. Hoseok himself couldn’t believe that he was standing in front of royalty — the princess of the mafia in flesh and blood. He used to have thoughts about who you were in real life, what you look like and he was not disappointed.

“Now what is a girl like you doing here?” He asks, wondering where your usual bodyguards were hiding. Hoseok knew of your father and the way he raised his children, the way he managed to manipulate every single person around him and how he has committed every crime imaginable only to get away with it— the man was the king of crime and yet, nobody had ever met Saul Ucello in the flesh and lived to tell about it.

“And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?” You tilt your head to the side, glaring slightly at him.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong! I don’t mean anything by it” Hoseok quickly retracts himself, “I was just wondering what a girl with such powerful connections is doing out alone without any protection. Anyone could take advantage of that.” Hoseok jeers.

“You mean someone like you, Hoseok?” Your hand grips the drink in your hand — you have yet to take a sip as you lean your back against the bar. You and Hoseok hold eye contact, his side smirk widening as he realizes that you know exactly who he is. He couldn’t be happier.

“Why? Maybe I want to be taken advantage of.” You give him the once over, knowing that you wouldn’t have to pretend a lot with a man like him. Extensive stakeouts, following this man around for a week, watching him every minute like a hawk— you’d think you know what kind of girl he would like, seeing as he brought home a different one almost every week.

Something told you that under that bad boy exterior had to be a baby boy screaming to get out. Or he could switch into a dangerous and sexy dom. You were more than willing to find out.

“But I don’t think it’s you that I want.” You decided to play the ‘hard to get’ card, sure Yoongi wouldn’t like the approach because it would take more time, but you ran point on this case — Yoongi could suck it (or you, later.)

You watch as something flashes across his eyes before he his slamming his glass down, liquid sloshing  onto the black shiny counter. You don’t move an inch as he gets slightly closer to your face— you could feel his hot breath on your cheek, stinking of nothing but alcohol. “Careful. We wouldn’t want to cause a scene, would we?” You say, stopping him in his tracks.

You knew that you were playing with red hot fire — Hoseok was a very temperamental man, he didn’t like being told no and he certainly switched between aggressive and bright smiles very often. Very much like a very powerful child.

“You, Miss Ucello, have just started a very dangerous game. I don’t get denied what I want often.” Hoseok avows, eyebrows raising up in confusion as he only watches you scoff as you start to walk away. The urge to grab at your arm flows through him and leaves just as quickly, before frowning in your direction as he watches you walk away — eyes heavily trained on your ass as he watches you disappear into the crowd. Hoseok looks back up at the window to his office watching as the other guys lean against it, smiling at having seen the events that had just transpired. “Shut up” He mouths in their direction, grabbing onto the neck of the bottle he left on the counter before making his way towards the VIP area.

You were sitting on the sofa at the safe house, watching as Jungkook ran around setting up the computers and surveillance system. He kept mumbling to himself as he plugs in random cables — it was kind of adorable. You watched on as he scrambled here and there, connecting and booting up systems.

The cushion beside you dips as Taehyung takes a sit on it, having decided to eat your lunch at the safe house rather than at a crowded restaurant.  You watch as he picks up some fries from the table before shoving them in his mouth. His eyes following Jungkook’s every movement as he continues to run around like a headless chicken.

It was certainly more entertaining than anything that was on the television at the moment.

Jungkook might be excellent at his job, but whenever you went undercover as a team, he would always end up freaking out. He was a perfectionist. Everything needed to be laid out perfectly, nothing was to be out of place and he wasn’t going to rest until everything was exactly the way he wanted.

It wasn't a completely bad thing either, at least it helped with not getting killed in the heat of the moment. He always knew exactly what to do in a mission, behind the scenes that is and yet, he never really had enough confidence to go on one. You were sure that if he wanted to, he would excel in completing one without a hitch.

The best thing about your team was how each one was chosen for a specific reason — the adrenaline junkies like Taehyung and you were the ones on the field and the ones who liked living safely and 'not dying' — as Jungkook liked to describe it, stayed behind desks making sure that the field agents didn't die. It was a nice arrangement in the group and none of you had any complains about it.

"You know I could've finished a whole lot faster if I didn't have to lug all of this equipment up three flights of stairs all by myself" Jungkook huffed as he stood in front of the two of you, breathing heavily as he held a monitor in his hands. He glared as the two of you continued munching on your food, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

"Nah, you're good” You say, taking another bite of you cheeseburger.

"You're doing great, buddy!"  Taehyung said as he threw a thumbs up his way. You watch as Jungkook rolls his eyes, walking back into the kitchen, placing the last monitor on the kitchen table. Probably cursing the both of you under his breath as his stomach grumbles at the thought of sitting down and eating what you had brought him.

"How long do you think it'll be before he keels over?" Taehyung ponders under his breath, taking a sip of his soda as he motions with his head to the sweaty and out of breath boy.

"I give him five minutes, tops" you reply, shoving another fry in your mouth.

"Really?" You watch as Taehyung tilts his head sideways. "It looks like his ready to pass out.”

You chuckle as you watch Jungkook put a hand to his side as he takes another deep breath. Maybe this was of the reasons Jungkook preferred surveillance over field work. That and the inability to maintain a conversation with a girl if she’s too close.

You look back at Taehyung, watching as he leaned back after placing his trash back into the paper bag. Rubbing his hand on his full stomach as he lazily eyes his surroundings.

It's been a month and a half since Taehyung had been off the radar. No contact with the outside world or to the agency for that matter; you’ve missed him, to say the least. He was more than likely being tested by Jung’s men. Even then, Taehyung acted as if he didn’t have a care in the world — as if he wasn’t really at risk of being gunned down in an empty warehouse.

Taehyung's first task had been completed during his month of absence. He was their new and improved delivery boy.

Jungkook on the other hand had been working on hacking into their security system — which also came with Hoseok’s social schedule. You could be aware of every and any even he would be attending for the next couple of months, mostly galas and charity events that would make him and his company look good.

You have made it your task to memorize such events, not really knowing when to insert yourself into his life. You stood up from the couch, letting out a deep breath as you made your way towards a sitting Jungkook.

You lean over his shoulder, not ignoring how the younger boy's breath hitch at how close you were standing. "How long will this take exactly?" you say, smirking as your breath hit his neck — watching goosebumps form on his arm.

"Uh, J-just a few s-seconds." Jungkook stutters slightly taking a deep breath, feeling himself tense as he noticed how close you were.

Taehyung stood up behind the both of you, arms crossed and chuckling to himself as he watches the younger boy become uncomfortable. He knew Jungkook was good with computers and making guy friends, but when it came to girls, he would either freeze up or run away. He just needed a little push. Not that you minded helping him out with any of that.

You smirk, leaning back as you stand next to your partner. You watch as Taehyung leans towards you, "How long are you going to keep torturing the poor boy?" he whispers.

"Until it stops being funny” You say as you watch Jungkook type away faster with you no longer anywhere near him.

"You are a horrible woman" Taehyung said as he looked at you up and down.

“That’s the sweetest thing you have ever said to me" You say as you hold your hand to your heart. "Thank you" you blink innocently at him.

"I'm in” You both turn to Jungkook in a flash — looking towards the once black monitors, now showing the long corridors and grand luxury on every corner that was known as the Jung Manor.

"So far we know that Hoseok hosts a charity event every year." Taehyung says, "Mostly uses this kind of events as covers for trades, to trafficking all kinds of things, you name it and he's done it."

"One of the many reasons he hasn't been caught yet” You say, "He's basically an outstanding member of society. Reminds me of a couple of people I used to know.”

"It's probably the best cover he could have, too.” Jungkook says, fascinated by the man. "He usually doesn't get involved in anything. Unless, it's a direct threat to his organization.”

"Even then, he always brings someone to do the dirty work instead. He has the money to do so." Taehyung says as he shrugs, hand moving to pick up the phone as it vibrates against the wooden table.

You watch as Taehyung checks his phone, taking a deep breath. "Seokjin texted, they want to move the meeting tonight.”

"You should probably get there as soon as possible then" Jungkook advises, “take the jacket on the sofa, the necklace in the front pocket has a tracking microchip in it. Just in case."

Taehyung nods, putting on the leather jacket, taking out the necklace as he walks past you. He shoves his new phone into his pocket.  He ruffles Jungkook’s hair like a big brother would— earning a shout of complaint from the younger, while throwing you a large smile your way as he walks out the front door.

It had been a few hours since Taehyung had left. He was now a blip on Jungkook’s computer being monitored by him.

You had retired back into the small living room, a laptop on top of your crossed legs as you continue on with your research. It was already well past two in the morning as you yawn and lazily click onto the next article about Jung Hoseok and his little corporation.

You tiredly glance over at Jungkook, watching as his wide eyes never leave the screen — continuing to take another gulp of his fourth energy drink. You should’ve told him to stop after his first one and force him to take a long ass nap. “You okay, Kookie?” Your voice rings out into the quiet room, startling the young man.

“Hm, oh yeah.. yup! I’m good!” Jungkook replies before turning back to the computer in front of him. You smile as you see him bite at his nails, making a note of yourself to hide his energy drinks before you leave.

The two of you jump as the sound of the front door being slammed open scares the two of you. It doesn’t take long until your picking up your gun and pointing it at the struggling intruder in front of you. You watch as he drops the bags in his hands, pulling off his hoodie as making you let out a deep breath and dropping your hand to your sides as you. “What the hell are you doing here?” You bark at him as you place your gun on the coffee table in front of you.

“I thought you guys could use some food” Yoongi defends himself, closing the door behind him as he picked up the bags he dropped earlier and moving them to the kitchen counter.

“Aren’t you supposed to be running an agency?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing as you watch the man in front of you. “As in, not here?”

“I thought you guys could use the help, and this is a high profile case. I need to be in the know 24/7” Yoongi shrugs throwing jungkook a snack from where he was standing. The younger morsa thanks in his direction before focusing back into his computer.

“We could call you with the updates.”

“No need, the assistant chief is in charge as of today and I am here until this case is over. Get used to it.”

The tone of his voice leaves no room for questions as he continues to unpack the bags in front of you. “Why don’t you get some sleep, you’re going in tomorrow.”

You don’t say anything else as you move to shut your laptop. You grab your things as you head into the bedroom, dropping into one of the cots that had been recently set up. You grit your teeth as you listen to their conversation, knowing damn well that Yoongi was here for one reason only.

“You must be Taehyung” Jimin’s voice rings put into the empty warehouse. His eyes look at the man in front of him with wariness as the other stands in the middle with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He wasn’t one to meet with people he had no connections too, but the man came highly recommended. “Good to know you’re punctual” He says more to himself than anything else, moving to stand in front of him.

Taehyung looks at the small, familiar man, taking a deep breath in. He did not want to be awake at three in the morning, especially when it was starting to get colder outside.

“Yeah…” he slowly eyes the duffel bag in the man’s hands. “Jimin?” Taehyung’s eyes move to the men standing behind Jimin, “and friends.”

“They’re just here to do the heavy lifting, don’t mind them.” Jimin assures him, only making the younger man before him even more weary. “Well they weren’t exactly part of the deal”

“They are now” Jimin insists, rolling his eyes as the man before him glares. “Where’s my shit?”

“Where’s my money?” Taehyung smirks, feeling the other man getting more and more annoyed. He watches as Jimin’s jaw tightens, eyes rolling as motions for on of the man in the back to come forward. Taehyung warily looks at him before a bag is being thrown in his direction. It stops a few feet away from his boot covered feet.

“You can count it if you like, it’s all there. The Boss always keeps his word” Jimin reassured him, scratching at his chin as he looks around the warehouse. “Now, where’s my shit?”

Taehyung takes a lone key out of his pocket before throwing it in Jimin’s direction, watching as the other man catches it with ease. “Container 256” He says, grabbing the bag on the floor. He quickly checks its content, making sure it was all there before he swings the bag over his shoulder. “Pleasure doing business with ya” He adds, saluting Jimin as he backs out of the warehouse.

“My shit better be there, or I’m hunting you down!” Jimin yells one last time, watching the figure retreat into darkness. He throws the keys to one of the men closest to him, gesturing for him to go find said containers.

<< Chapter One | Chapter Three (Coming Soon)

[redrobinfection]

(14) Chills

SociallyAwkwardFox’s Spooktober - Day 14 “Chills”

JayTim | Established Relationship | Food Poisoning | Foodborne Illness | Vomiting | Mentions of other bodily fluids | Sick fic | Want to write with me? Find the prompt list here!

~*~

"Hey! You alive in here?" Tim calls as he enters Jason's safehouse, carefully balancing a shopping bag of 'goodies' on his hip and ducking low to avoid snagging his backpack on the frame as he steps through the window.

A bedraggled head sticks out of the bathroom doorway at half the height one would expect. "Tim? You shouldn't be here," Jason croaks, hauling himself to his feet with the support of the door frame. He looks awful, face pale, cheeks flushed, and dark circles under his eyes. It's only been a day and a half since his symptoms appeared, including copious vomiting, but he already looks gaunt and hollowed out.

Tim ignores him, continues on into the little kitchen, and begins unloading his supplies onto the counter. He's brought an arsenal of medical supplies: anti-nausea meds, antibiotics, fluids and electrolytes - both IV and oral - various disease test kits, portable diagnostic equipment, as well as broths and soups sent straight from Alfred along with saltine crackers, sports drinks, ginger teas, and ginger ale for when Jason’s appetite comes back. He loads the soup containers, drinks and antibiotics into the fridge, keeping his back turned even as he hears Jason shuffle into the kitchen.

"Let me rephrase that: you can't be here. I'm sick. I've got a fever and chills and I've been hurling my guts out of both ends all night and all day. It isn't safe for you," Jason tells him, hovering at the edge of the kitchen like he wants to step forward and shake Tim by the shoulders but knows he shouldn't.

Tim turns and closes the distance between them in two quick steps, raising a thermometer to Jason's temple while laying the back of his hand across his forehead. Jason startles a second too late.

"T-Tim! What are you doing?! Get away!" He tries to back up, but bumps into the wrap-around counter, knees buckling. Tim grips his forearm firmly to bolster him and follows diligently, holding the thermometer steady until he hears a beep.

"One hundred point nine," Tim reads off, nodding sagely. "That's not too bad. Overall, how are you feeling? Have you been able to keep down any fluids in the past twelve hours?" he asks as he pinches the skin of Jason's forearm to perform the skin elasticity test for gauging dehydration. "Mmm, from that I'm going to say 'no' or 'not enough', huh?"

Jason swats away his hand wildly then leans back over the counter away from the other hand Tim lifts undeterred to pull down Jason's lower eyelid in order to gauge the sunkenness of his eyes.

"Wha-wha-what are you doing?" Jason pants, eyes wild. "You can't be here, I have the flu; you can't touch me, I'm going to get you sick!"

Tim shakes his head, but takes a step back, making soothing motions with his hands. "It's fine, Jason, I made sure to--"

"It's not f-f-fine!" Jason hisses, teeth chattering with a full body shiver. "You could die, Spleen-less Wonder!"

Tim raises his eyebrows. "If you would stop running away from me for five minutes, or stop to answer my calls then you’d--"

"I w-was ru-ru-running to protect you!"

Five minutes after his first episode of vomiting, Jason had run out of Tim's apartment like the building was on fire, and then proceeded to lead Tim on a very bizarre game of tag through five separate safehouses over the past day and a half. Tim had been half convinced their wild chase would end with him finding Jason passed out in the street, or on some rooftop, between one place and the next. He still wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry or tear his hair out over the whole thing. Probably all of the above.

"I th-th-thought you'd given up by now!"

No, he hadn’t given up, but Tim also hadn't wanted to find Jason passed out in the street somewhere, so he had given Jason space and watched from a distance while he gathered evidence and ran tests.

He reaches into his back pocket, unfolds a Batcomputer print-out and shoves it into Jason's face. Jason frowns as he leans in to read the fine print.

"These are the results of comprehensive pathogen testing on a sample of stool and a sample of the foods we consumed the other night," Tim explains to him. "The tests are conclusive: you have food poisoning, not the flu. The food you ate and your stool both test positive for salmonella."

Jason blinks and his eyes dart to Tim with a flash of worry. "But... but you're okay? You didn't eat any of the contaminated foods?"

Tim smiles warmly at Jason for his concern and shakes his head. "No. Alfred and I are pretty sure it was contained to the sausage on your pizza. We didn't find salmonella in anything else and I didn't eat any of yours, only my own."

"Oh, thank fuck," Jason sighs in relief, sagging back into the counter. "Wait," he freezes, pinning Tim with an odd look, "Did you say stool? How the hell did you get a sample of my shit! When?!"

Tim snorts. "I mean, you did leave an incredible wake of contamination in your path as you fled from place to place." Jason glares and Tim shrugs. "You, uh, forgot to flush the toilet at your second stop. I collected it there."

Jason narrows his eyes. "Even if this is food poisoning, you still have to be careful collecting food samples, touching me, touching my shit--literal and figurative... Jeez, if you get a salmonella infection, that could fuck you up for the long term, Babybird."

Tim nods. "I know. I brought gloves, disinfectant, and plenty of hand soap. I plan to be careful. Alfred will never let me hear the end of it if I'm not."

Jason doesn't look happy about it, but he nods his acceptance, trembling as another chill wracks his body with violent shivers. Tim's brow crinkles in concern. He turns to scoop up some of his supplies then steers Jason toward the couch with a light touch on his elbow.

"Why don't you go get settled on the couch while I prep some fluids for you. I'm guessing you haven't been holding much down--or in--for more than a few minutes at a time?"

"Try not at all," Jason croaks as he subconsciously pulls his elbow away and shuffles to the couch on his own.

Tim grimaces in sympathy. "The diarrhea hasn't let up either?"

"Nope."

"Has there been any blood in your stool?"

Jason makes a face. "No," he gasps, gagging slightly. "Ugh. Can you grab me a bucket or something while you're at it?"

"On it."

Tim brings Jason his sick pail, then proceeds to take more vitals and pulls a blood sample to send along to Alfred. Jason suffers through it with as much grace as he can summon between breaks to gag and retch into his bucket.

"The last thing we need is for the infection to get into your blood, so I brought antibiotics along just in case," Tim tells him.

"The last thing we need is for the infection to get into your blood!" Jason shoots back hoarsely as he comes up from another round of vomiting.

"Don't worry, besides taking sanitary precautions, Alfred started me on a course of preventative antibiotics, just in case I did ingest contaminated material and haven't begun showing symptoms," Tim reassures as he begins prepping Jason’s forearm for the IV.

"Wha-what if you get sick? What am I supposed to do then?"

"Alfred will be by shortly to pick up the blood sample and check up on us, and if at any point I start to show symptoms, you or I are supposed to call Leslie immediately. The alternative is for you to return with me to the Manor." Tim wrinkles his nose to say what he thinks of that alternative.

"Nope. Here s-sounds g-g-good," Jason replies, teeth still chattering. Tim finishes inserting the catheter, starts up the fluids, tapes and then wraps the IV site.

"Okay, that should be good to go for a while. We'll know in a few hours if you'll need the IV antibiotics. For now…" he trails off, taking in the small, nearly empty safehouse and then the shivering form of one miserable Jason Todd. "How about we cuddle up on the couch and binge some Netflix?"

"I don't have a TV."

Tim smirks. "Do you think I go anywhere without my laptop and an unlimited 4G data plan?"

He sets up his laptop on a tray table in front of the couch and retrieves several clean blankets from the hall closet. He drapes two of the blankets across Jason's shoulders, which he accepts with a murmur of appreciation, then seats himself beside Jason and spreads another across their laps. He cuddles up to Jason and attempts to wrap an arm around him, his shorter stature be damned.

"Wh-wh-what are you doing?" Jason stutters, leaning away with a comically alarmed expression.

"You've got the chills, so I brought you some blankets and I’m snuggling you?”

"No, why are you practically on top of me! What if I throw up on you?" Jason wails, attempting to push away. Tim pulls him close and hands him the sick pail.

"You're a crack shot, Jay, so I trust that you won't miss at point blank," he teases.

Jason glares balefully, but gives up trying to pull free. "You're still gonna get sick…" he grumbles.

"I doubt it, but if that's a risk I have to take to snuggle you, then I'll take it."

Jason sags into him and grumbles under his breath.

"What was that?"

"I said you're an idiot with a d-d-death wish," Jason growls between shivers.

Tim chuckles and squeezes his shoulder. "Whoa, there, Jay, I think you need to chill out."

"Tim."

[hunnywrites]

Chapter Seven: It’s a Trap!

Summary: The town of Hawkins has been turned upside down with the news that Will Byers has suddenly gone missing. Teddi Larsson and Billy Hargrove are gonna get to the bottom of things. Season one AU.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove/OFC

A/N: Only one chapter to go! I’ve really enjoyed writing this fic! Would you all be interested in continuing with season two? I’d definitely be drifting from canon, but that’s what makes AU fics fun, isn’t it?

Teddi was pacing the length of Hopper’s office while she and Billy waited for him to return. Billy had calmed down a little. Now he was watching his girlfriend mutter to herself angrily about something. “...You okay there, Ted?” he asked finally.

“I punched Troy Walsh in the nose.” she blurted out. 

Billy raised his eyebrows, speechless for a moment before letting out a loud laugh. “What?” 

“When I found El, Troy had Mike, Dustin and Max out by the quarry and he had a knife to Dustin’s friggin’ throat. So I punched him. And El broke his arm. You know she can actually move things with her mind? It’s amazing. She’s amazing-”

“Wait,” Billy held his hands up. “That little fucker had a knife? And you didn’t throw him into the quarry?” 

“I was too busy stopping Mike from jumping in-”

“What?!” 

“It’s a long story!” Teddi huffed. She plopped down in the seat next to Billy. “They’re fine now. I sent them back to Mike’s and I was supposed to get you so we can go find Lucas-”

“Find Lucas? Where the hell did he go? Who let him run off?”

Teddi rolled her eyes. “If I knew where he went we wouldn’t need to find him. And you’re one to talk about running off. You have a lot of explaining to do, buddy. Is that your handy work all over Steve’s face?” 

Billy crossed his arms, not meeting Teddi’s eyes. “That was Johnathan.” he muttered.

Teddi couldn’t help but laugh. “Johnathan did that to Steve?” 

“He’s freakishly strong like you are. Steve called and said he’d gone over to Nancy’s last night and he saw her and Johnathan sitting on her bed. So I figured I’d try and explain as best as I could so he wouldn’t have a bitch fit, but Tommy got him all worked up and they decided they were gonna graffiti the Hawk. Nancy saw it when her and Johnathan were on the way to meet me and you and they got into a fight.” he explained.

“Wow…” Teddi said quietly. “A telepathic preteen opens a portal to another dimension and the town really goes to shit, huh?” Billy let out a chuckle. “Do you agree with me that now we should finally tell Hopper?” she asked, looking over at him. 

“Tell me what?” the two teens turned to look at Hopper who was standing in the doorway of his office. He walked in, shutting the door behind him and sitting at his desk. The three of them were quiet as Hopper fixed a stern look in their direction. The two had been on the receiving end of that look more times than they could count. He slapped a photo down onto his desk, sliding it forward. It was the photo Johnathan had taken of Barb. “You two know anything about this?”

Teddi and Billy were silent for a moment. Teddi looked over at Billy, who only sunk down in his seat. She let out a heavy sigh.  There was no way they could hide this from him anymore. “It’s the Demogorgon. It’s what took Will and Barb.” she explained.

The look on Hopper’s face told her that Johnathan and Nancy had said something similar. “And it lives out in the woods?” he asked. Teddi and Billy both nodded. “So, you two wouldn’t happen to know why Johnathan and Nancy have an arsenal in his trunk? The four of you wouldn’t be planning on going after this thing? Again?” the two teens remained silent. Hopper sighed loudly. “Are you both insane? This...thing, whatever the hell it is, could have killed you. Do you realize that?” his expression softened. “You aren’t doing this on your own anymore. Got it? Whatever it is that happened to Barb and Will, I’m not letting the same thing happen to either of you.”

“Hop, Will’s alive,” Teddi argued. “We have to go after it! We know where the gate is now, El can help-”

“El? Who the hell is El?” Hop asked, looking between the two of them.

“Some girl Wheeler found out in the woods. She’s got super powers.” Billy explained. He almost sounded bored with the situation. 

Hopper looked between the two of them, surprisingly accepting of what they were telling him. “...If I hadn’t seen some of the weird shit I’ve seen these last few days, I’d be drug testing the two of you right now to make sure you’re not on magic mushrooms again,” Billy laughed at the memory, clearing his throat when Hopper shot him a stern look. “Is there anything else you two wanna tell me?” 

Teddi briefly considered telling him about Troy Walsh. But when she considered everything else happening, some asshole kid was the least of her worries. Besides, it seemed like Troy was going to beat her to the punch. There was a loud argument that had broken out outside of Hopper’s office. The three could hear Callahan arguing with a woman, telling her that she needed to calm down. Hopper sighed loudly, heading back out to the station with Teddi and Billy following close behind. 

Troy Walsh was there with his mother. His nose was still covered in dried up blood and his arm was now in a sling. When he saw Teddi, he pointed an accusing finger in her direction. “She did it! She punched me in the nose!” he yelled. 

Everyone turned to look at Teddi in shock. “You did what?” Hopper asked incredulously. 

“He...it was self defense!” Teddi argued. 

“He’s a little boy!” Troy’s mother argued, pulling her son protectively to her chest. 

“Yeah,” Troy sniffed. “I didn’t do anything to her! Her and her little freak buddies ganged up on me out at the quarry!” 

Teddi saw red. She stomped forward, shoving past Hopper and headed right for Troy. “You little shit stain! You were going to stab Dustin!” she lunged forward, her hands reaching out for Troy’s neck. Billy wrapped his arms around Teddi’s middle, lifting her off the ground and pulling her away from Troy as shouting erupted. 

“Jesus, Teddi!” Hopper scolded, stepping out in front of Billy with his arms outstretched. “The hell has gotten into you? He’s a kid!” 

Teddi squirmed in Billy’s grip. “He has a knife! He was gonna make Mike jump into the quarry and he was gonna hurt Dustin!” Powell didn’t waste any time. He took a hold of Troy’s arm, pulling him from his mother as Callahan searched his pockets. 

He held up the switchblade with a surprised expression. “Looks like she might be onto something, chief.” 

Hopper ran a tired hand over his face. “Okay, you five are coming with me,” he said, motioning to Tedd, Billy, Johnathan, Nancy and Joyce. “Powell, handle Walsh, will you? I gotta go handle...all this.”

“Wait a second,” Troy’s mother demanded. “My son’s arm is broken! There has to be something you can do!” she argued.

“Yeah! Get that little freak with the shaved head! She can do stuff with her mind, I swear! She’s the one that broke my arm!” 

Hopper turned to look at Teddi and Billy. “El?” they nodded. “Right, don’t worry ma’am. We’re gonna handle everything. You just worry about that little delinquent of yours not going to juvie, huh? Let’s go, guys.” Joyce, Johnathan and Nancy all filed out behind Hopper. Troy stuck his tongue out at Teddi, who kicked her legs wildly at him as Billy carried her past him. 

They all piled into Johnathan’s car. Teddi, Nancy, Johnathan and Billy were all squished in the backseat. Hopper started the car, he and Joyce turned back to look at them. “Alright, where are the kids now?”

“I told them to wait for me at Mike’s,” Teddi said. “We’re supposed to go look for Lucas. Apparently he decided to go rogue this morning.” she mumbled. 

“Isn’t it dangerous out there? Why would he go alone?” Joyce asked.

“The Demogorgon only comes out at night,” Billy said, shifting uncomfortably when everyone turned to look at him. “I mean, it seems that way at least...it’s nocturnal, or whatever.” 

Hopper nodded. “Alright, so it comes out at night, it’s attracted to blood and it doesn’t like fire...sounds like my mother in law.” Billy was the only one that laughed. Hopper rolled his eyes, driving off in the direction of the Wheeler’s place. The four teens filled him and Joyce in on as much as they knew about El, the Upside Down and the Demogorgon. Hopper and Joyce told them they’d figured out the government was in on some sort of cover up plot, and that the body they had found in the quarry wasn’t will. 

“I told you.” Teddi said triumphantly, grinning over at Billy. 

Billy rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to argue. There was a loud whirring coming from above. Billy rolled down his window and stuck his head out to see what was causing the sound. “Uh, Hop? It’s lookin’ like we’re gonna have a problem.” he said, pointing up to the helicopter above them. 

Hopper stomped down on the breaks. Everyone lurched forward, the group groaning and complaining at Hopper. He didn’t listen. He shut the car off, getting out and hurrying off. The teens followed after him and Joyce tried her best to try and call them back to the car. There were about four black sedans parked out in front of Mike’s house. Men in suits were moving back and forth between the sedans and the house, loading boxes of what looked like Mike’s belongings. 

“I have to go home!” Nancy gasped. Hopper stopped her from running off. “My parents are down there! I have to make sure they’re okay!” she argued. 

Billy and Teddi looked up to see the helicopter slowly circling the area behind the Wheeler’s house. “I don’t think they’re after your parents,” Teddi said, pointing to the helicopter. “I think they’re looking for Mike.”

“She’s right,” Hopper agreed. “We still have time. We can’t let them know any of us are mixed up in all of this. Everybody get back in the car.” he turned, ushering the four teens back to the car. 

Billy let out an annoyed huff, reaching down and rubbing at his leg. “Those kids are so dead when we find them. Like the Demogorgon wasn’t enough, now we have the man on our ass.”

“Where would they be?” Hopper asked. “There’s gotta be somewhere they’d be hiding.” he looked at Nancy. Her eyes went wide as she tried to think of where Mike and his friends might be. Billy was trying to think himself, coming up empty when he realized he didn’t know much about Max’s hangout spots aside from the arcade. 

“Is there anywhere they might be? Anywhere your parents might not know about?” Joyce asked, looking between the two of them. Neither had an answer. 

All eyes went to Teddi. “...What? I don’t know everything they’re always up to,” she argued. That was a lie. She let out a sigh. “I mean...I know a few places they might be. But we don’t have time to check them all.”

“I have an idea,” Johnathan offered. “I don’t know where they’ll be, but I think I know how to ask them where they are,” 

They were off to the Byers’ house. “Will has a walkie talkie in his room somewhere. We can call Mike. They always keep them close by.” Johnathan explained as they headed inside. Nancy, Teddi and Billy all came to a stop when they entered the living room. It was like a tornado had hit. The room was an absolute mess. A hole had been hacked into one of the walls and covered with some wooden planks. Someone had painted the alphabet in thick, black letters above the couch, and there were Christmas like strung up across the ceiling and the walls. 

“Whoa...Joyce, the hell happened in here?” Billy asked, turning in a circle as the three of them looked around. Joyce ignored the question. She, Hopper and Johnathan all quickly hurried down the hall and into Will’s room. Nancy, Teddi and Billy all shared a look before following them.

It didn’t take Joyce long to find the walkie talkie. Everyone crowded into Will’s room. Billy plopped down onto his bed, rubbing at his leg with a painful groan while Joyce fussed over him and asked if he was alright. Nancy turned the walkie talkie nervously in her hands a few times before attempting to call Mike. 

There was no answer. It felt like everyone was holding their breath as they waited to see if Nancy could get through to her brother. “...Maybe they don’t have a walkie,” Billy offered. “You want me to try?”

Johnathan laughed. “Yeah, like they wouldn’t be too scared to answer you,” Billy let out a grumble, shooting a dirty look in Johnathan’s direction. “Let Teddi try. She’s been in on this with them. She’s the only one they know won’t rat them out.”

“Technically speaking I am ratting them out,” she argued. Hopper shot her a look, taking the walkie from Nancy and handing it to Teddi. “...I’m just saying,” she let out a sigh. “Mike? El? Are you guys there? It’s me, Teddi. We saw the creepy government guys at Mike’s. Hopper’s here. We can help. I promise.” There was another long stretch of silence. Maybe Billy was right. Maybe they didn’t have a walkie with them.

There was a bit of static from the walkie. “I copy. It’s Mike. I’m here, we’re all here.” 

Hopper took the walkie from Teddi. “Mike, it’s Hopper. Where are you? I’m coming to get you out of there.” they were at the junkyard. “Junkyard?” Hopper asked, looking back at the teens. 

“It’s out by the train tracks,” Billy said. “We used to hide in the bus and smok-...forget it. I can show you how to get there.” he got up, grunting a little when he stood on his leg. Joyce and Teddi both reached out for him.

“Honey, you need to sit down,” Joyce said softly. “I’m gonna go get the first aid kit.” she got up, hurrying off down the hall. 

“I’m gonna go by myself,” Hopper said to Billy. “You sit tight here, I’ll get the kids. I don’t want any of you leaving, got it? We need to stick together.” the four teens nodded. Hopper gave them one last look before following after Joyce. 

Teddi turned to Billy with a worried look. “Can I see?” Billy nodded, leaning back on his elbows and groaning. Teddi and Nancy kneeled down in front of Billy. Nancy held his ankle gingerly as Teddi rolled his jeans up. She sucked in air when she saw the five large cuts. His stitches weren’t visible anymore. It was like somehow they had healed overnight, but now five black, vein like scars ran up his leg.  

Teddi was speechless. She and Nancy shared a look, neither of them knowing what to say. Teddi reached out carefully, softly running her finger down one of the scars that ran directly down his shin. “...Does it hurt?” she asked, looking up at him.

Billy shook his head. “Not that. It hurts inside. Like my skin’s on fire.” 

“...Is that normal?” Nancy asked Teddi.

She shook her head. “No, but then nothing around here is normal anymore,” she sighed. She looked at Billy’s leg helplessly. The skin around the scars was beginning to turn a dull grey color. Like the scars were literally sucking the life out of him. “Billy, I really think we need to take you to a doctor. This is-”

Billy slammed his fist down onto the bed beside him, fixing a snarl in Teddi’s direction. “I said no fucking doctors!” he growled out. Teddi and Nancy both jumped. Johnathan shifted nervously, inching his way towards the girls. Teddi’s eyes met with Billy’s, and she was shocked to see pure hatred there. 

Johnathan gently touched Teddi’s shouder. “Come on, let’s leave him alone for a minute, huh?” he suggested quietly. He and Nancy both helped Teddi stand. She couldn’t look away from Billy. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Something was very, very wrong. Nancy led Teddi outside and to the porch. They sat on the porch swing, neither of them saying anything.

“...Does he usually snap at you like that?” Nancy finally asked.

Teddi pulled her knees up to her chest and shook her head. “Never. I mean, he’s always been sort of an asshole, but that…” she let out a shaky breath. “All of this has me really scared, Nance.” She confessed. 

“Me too. But it’s gonna be okay, Teddi. Billy is gonna get better, and we’re gonna find Will and Barb and hopefully everything will go back to normal.” they both knew that Nancy was trying to convince herself of that as well. There was no guarantee that things would have a happy ending. 

“...Are you gonna break up with Steve?” Teddi asked.

Nancy looked off, laughing a little like she had already forgotten about that afternoon. “I don’t know...I don’t know what to do anymore. I know that wasn’t like him, but…”  

“But you like Johnathan,” Teddi finished for her. Nancy flashed her a sheepish smile. “I know that we aren’t super close, but can I give you some advice?” Nancy nodded, turning towards Teddi. “Steve has no idea that any of this is happening. He doesn’t know there’s a monster in the woods, or about the Upside Down. You went to Johnathan and asked him to be your partner in all of this. I think that says a lot. Like, with me and Billy...he’s the first person I go to with anything. Even if I know he’ll look at me like I’m insane. He always listens and he always helps.”

“That’s ‘cause I know you’d do the same for me,” the two girls jumped at the sound of Billy’s voice. He looked better already. Normal. He shifted nervously in the doorway. “...You mind if I talk to her for a sec, Nance?” Nancy looked over at Teddi who nodded before she headed inside. Billy didn’t miss the glare she shot in his direction before she disappeared. Billy walked over to Teddi, limping a bit, and sat down on the swing next to her. He kicked his foot just a little, making the seat swing. “...We should get one of these.” 

Teddi raised an eyebrow. “A porch swing?”

“Yeah. When we figure out where we wanna go…” Billy let out a sigh. “Look, Ted...I’m sorry about what happened…”

“What did happen?” 

Billy ran a hand over his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. “I don’t know. I feel like I feel fine most of the time, and then…” Teddi thought back to the look of hatred he had given her. “It hurts. Like I’m burning from the inside out and there’s something trying to get out of me. And then I just get angry.”

Teddi didn’t know what to say. She was scared for him. Even if she could convince him to see a doctor, how could they help? She took his hand in hers, squeezing it a little. “It’s all gonna be fine,” she said, repeating Nancy’s lie. “We’ll figure it out...but if you snap at me like that again I’m kicking you in the balls.” 

Billy laughed, putting his arm around her. “Deal.” 

It was dark when Hopper’s Blazer finally pulled up in front of the Byers’ house. Teddi and Billy got up from the porch swing quickly as the kids filed out of the car. Joyce, Nancy and Johnathan joined them on the porch. Nancy ran forward to wrap Mike in a hug he definitely hadn’t been expecting. Max hugged Billy tightly. He patted her back awkwardly, trying to crack a joke with her to break the tension. 

El watched her two friends, hugging their siblings, with a curious expression. Her eyes met Teddi’s, who was standing on the porch, offering her a soft smile and a sort of awkward wave. El made her way over to the blonde, hugging her tightly. 

Billy watched the two girls, wrapping an arm around Max’s shoulder. Maybe he was being a dick about the El situation. Teddi didn’t have someone like he had Max. She was a pain in the ass, and she was constantly getting him into trouble, but she was his family. His sister. Teddi was the kind of girl that wanted to take care of everyone around her. Was it really so wrong for him to let her take care of El? 

Teddi let out a small laugh, returning the hug fiercely. “You okay, Ellie Bean?”

El nodded, smiling softly at her. “Safe.” 

“I’ll always keep you safe. I promise.” she ran a hand over El’s hair. Teddi caught the way that Hopper was watching them. He looked like Billy. Like he disapproved of Teddi getting so close. She didn’t care. 

Hopper ushered everyone back inside, and Mike and the party gave Hop, Joyce, Nancy and Johnathan a crash course in the Upside Down. Mike explained how El could make contact with Will, sort of like a long distance phone call. El agreed to try again with one of the walkies to see if she could make contact with Will or Barb. If they could reach either of them then maybe it could help them in their rescue mission. 

They crowded around El at the dinner table and watched as El tried to make contact. Not a lot happened. Eleven stared down at the walkie talkie, focusing all of her energy on it. The walkie came to life, crackling and letting out some static. Joyce sucked in a breath next to Teddi. There was a loud whir through the house. The lights flickered, and there was a loud pop before they cut out. 

El sat up, her expression falling into a sad frown as the lights came back on. “...I’m sorry. I can’t reach them.” her eyes were pooling with tears. Billy reached over, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. El looked up at him, sniffing. 

“Don’t worry about it, kid. We’ll figure something else out,” he reassured her. El smiled thinly at him, pushing herself away from the table and heading for the bathroom. Teddi sighed. “So...what now? Does she need a bigger radio again? What about the one at your school?” 

Mike shook his head. “She’s tired. We have to give her time to rest-”

“We don’t have time. We have people looking for her. We don’t know how much longer Will and Barb can survive...wherever it is they are.” Hopper argued. 

“We don’t know what’ll happen to her if we force her to push herself,” Teddi argued. “Her nose bleeds every time she uses her powers. It’s wearing on her. I’m not gonna let her hurt herself because you can’t be patient.” she firmly crossed her arms, glaring up at Hopper. 

“Teddi,” he sighed. “I know that you wanna help her. I get it. But-”

“I can call them in the pool.” it was El. The group turned to face her. Her eyes were a little red, Teddi guessed she’d been crying in the bathroom. 

“Pool? Finally, something we can help with.” Billy grinned, throwing his arm around Teddi. 

Hopper rolled his eyes. “Not that kind of pool, Billy. It’s a deprivation tank. I saw one in that lab out in the woods. How in the hell are we supposed to make one of those?” 

Dustin called their science teacher. They drove to the middle school, Hopper breaking them up into teams and giving them all jobs. Teddi and Billy would help Dustin and Lucas help set up the pool. Which mostly meant Teddi and Lucas stood by, arms crossed over their chests as they watched Billy and Dustin screaming at each other from across the small pool they’d borrowed from Joyce.

“You’re not doing it right, Henderson! Pull it!” 

“I am pulling it! I thought you were supposed to be strong!” 

After about twenty minutes and Billy deciding he was going to give Dustin the silent treatment, Lucas and Teddi managed to set the pool up without much of an issue. Billy walked off to pout on the bleachers. Once the pool was ready for El, the gang crowded around her, just like they had at they Byers’ and waited. Teddi and Joyce were knelt down next to her, arms ready to reach out to El if anything went wrong. 

The lights flickered again. The whole gym sounded like it was groaning under the weight of El’s powers. It echoed through the large room, making goosebumps appear on Teddi’s arms. Suddenly it was quiet. Like somehow they were in the tank with her. Teddi wondered what El saw when she called out to the Upside Down. Or if she saw anything at all. 

El called out for Barb. Nancy let out a small gasp. The lights flickered again. El started breathing heavily, her body looked like it was trying to fight against something. “Is she okay? Is Barb okay?” Nancy asked. 

El was crying. Thrashing. Teddi and Joyce reached out, grabbing on to El’s hands as she started chanting the word gone, her cries getting more and more urgent. Teddi pulled El over towards her, her hands wrapping around El’s tiny hand. She was surprised when Billy placed a hand over her own, anchoring El close to them as they tried to quiet her. “El? Can you hear me? It’s okay. We’re here. I’m gonna keep you safe, remember? We all will. We’re all right here with you.” Teddi assured her. 

Eventually El stilled again. Joyce, Teddi and Billy kept their hold on her as she continued on. “Castle Byers…” she said quietly. “Will…” 

Everyone let out a breath at once at the sound of El saying Will’s name. Joyce’s eyes were filled with tears as she gripped onto El’s hand like her life depended on it, telling her to let Will know they were going to save him. El repeated each message quietly, her voice becoming more desperate by the second. Teddi could just briefly hear Will’s voice over the walkie that was sitting nearby as he answered El. El was thrashing again, screaming Will’s name. The lights in the gym flashed wildly before there was a loud pop and the room went dark. 

El screamed, sitting up with a loud gasp. The lights came back on. Billy wrapped his arm around her, pulling her to the edge of the pool to try and stop her thrashing. “It’s okay, kid. I got you. You’re okay.” he mumbled. El cried into his chest, her tiny hands clutching onto him like she would be dragged away if she let go.

Teddi slid over to them, reaching out and wiping the blood from El’s nose. Hopper was up and putting his coat back on, Joyce was close behind him. “You did so good, El. We know where Will is. You did it. We can save him.” Teddi ran her hand over El’s hair, smiling down at her. 

Max hurried over with a large beach towel. Billy helped El stand before Max wrapped the towel around her. Billy placed a hand on her back, leading her over to the bleachers where the boys were waiting. He kneeled down in front of her. “You doin’ okay?” he asked. El nodded, but just barely. He looked back at Teddi. “You wanna go get her a Coke or something? She’s looking a little pale.” 

“Jeez, you guys take this lifeguard thing seriously, huh?” Mike asked. Billy and Teddi both shot him similar, unimpressed looks. 

“I’ll be right back,” Teddi muttered, hurrying out of the gym and into the halls of the middle school. She didn’t make it very far before she ran into Nancy and Johnathan. They were sitting on the floor beside each other, the both of them going quiet when they saw Teddi approaching. “...Am I interrupting something?” she asked.

“No.” Johnathan said quickly.

“Yes,” Nancy argued. She stood, glaring down at Johnathan. “Teddi, Hopper and Joyce are headed right into a trap. We can’t just sit here and do nothing. They’ll get killed. And Will won’t be far behind.” 

“Wait,” Teddi held up her hands. “They’re going through the gate? Alone?” she asked. Johnathan sighed and nodded. “And you just let them?”

Johnathan let out a huff. “Have you ever tried to get Hopper to do something he doesn’t want to do? I don’t exactly have much sway here, Teddi.” he argued.

Teddi shook her head. “This is insane, Johnathan! They don’t know how to stop that thing.” 

“Exactly! Listen, I have a plan. We can kill the Demogorgon. But I need your help. And Billy. The kids can stay here and let El rest. It’ll be safe here. No one will find them. But we need to go. Now.”

Teddi didn’t need to think it over. She nodded. “Okay. Okay, I’ll go get Billy.”

“Meet us at the Byers’...bring more hairspray.” Nancy took Johnathan by the hand and pulled him off towards the exit. Teddi rushed down the hall to one of the vending machines. She pushed the button repeatedly, praying for the machine to move faster. Once it dropped the can of soda she was down the hall and back into the gym in record time. 

“Billy, we need to leave. Mike, I’m leaving you in charge, okay? None of you are leaving this gym. No matter what happens. Got it? El needs to rest. We’ll handle everything else,” she pressed the can of soda into El’s hands. “We’ll be back soon. This is all gonna be over soon.” she assured her.

Billy was blinking wildly. “Wait, wait, wait. Teddi, what the hell are you talking about? Where the hell are we going? What’s gonna be over soon?” 

Teddi rolled her eyes, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re going to kill a Demogorgon.” 

[everymovie2020]

Assassination Nation (2018)

Date watched:  9 December 2018

I had no idea what this was about going into it.

I had never read any reviews/watched any previous/seen anything about it at all. I saw it available for download and clicked on it on a whim, going off the plot description.

And to be honest, I watched it a few days ago and I'm still trying to digest what the fuck I saw.  I also have no idea how to write a coherent review about this movie because… I was so completely bewildered/horrified/traumatised that I'm like… I don't even know what to say?  Did I like it, or didn't I?  Can I even put into words what it's about?  I'll try.

So I will try to put down my thoughts on this movie under a cut, because… spoilers. Obviously.

Brief plot:

Four hot girls are the central protagonists to this movie, and everyone else revolves around them.  Lily is a cute blonde who is kind of dating Bill Skarsgaard, but he's also being a total dick to her?  But she's dating him nonetheless.  She's also carrying on an affair via text/Snapchat with a guy called "Daddy", though it's half obvious who that is from the first ten minutes of the movie.

Bex is transgendered.  She's been text-flirting with a hot footballer, who she hooks up with at a party, and then he tells her that nobody can ever know.  So he's sort of a dick.

Sarah and Em round out the foursome, though they are more supporting players in this. At one point I think it's revealed that they are sisters?  But honestly, I don't even know.

All of these teenage girls go to school, text, flirt, have sex, take drugs, drink, fight, argue, put up with the nonsense of boys and men, give a lot of sass, etc etc.

The first half an hour of this movie was a horrifying look at the world that teenagers now live in, which is so far removed from my reality (back in the "olden days" of the 90s/early 2000s).  I mean, the technology alone, like… fuck, I am so glad I missed all of that. Honestly.

Then the mayor of the town (aptly named Salem) is hacked, and all of his private stuff is made public, and it turns out he likes a bit of a gay orgy (who can blame the dude?) but he's conservative, and so instead of facing it, he goes on TV and shoots himself in the head.  Very Bud Dwyer-esque (that's a real life political suicide reference there for you).

Then the principal of the school is hacked, and all of his data – innocent though it is – is made public, and twisted by the public, who disregard the facts in order to sensationalise the story (does this sound familiar?).  He's called a paedophile and demanded to resign by a public in a frenzy, though it's never clear who these people in the frenzy are – he seems to the face the same, faceless, angry scrum that the mayor faces, but we never get a good look at them. Townsfolk with pitchforks, maybe?

Then, as if things aren't bad enough, the hacker releases the data of a bunch of other people in the town – pretty much everyone – and that's when things go from bad to worse.  Suddenly there's a cop at the school, letching at the four girls as they walk to their classes.  People are accusing each other.  Everyone's dirty laundry is now made public.

Bella Thorne gets her head bashed in with a baseball bat by her best friend because she did something to her, I can't remember what.  Lily's texts/pictures with her "Daddy" are suddenly made public, and even though she's smart enough to keep her face out of the pictures, her boyfriend goes full psycho and strips her at school to show a birthmark on her back. Bex's chats with her footballer are public as well, and suddenly he's in the firing line for sleeping with a transgendered woman.

Lily's parents find out about the sexting and throw her out of her house.  The guy she's sexting – Joel McHale – loses his wife and kid over it.  Then Lily is revealed to be the hacker (she's not, though), and the whole town is out for her blood.

Suddenly the town goes from quiet and peaceful to mob violence in like a second, which is the part I found hardest to believe, but whatever.  It reminded me a lot of the Ku Klux Klan/Nazi rallies, stuff like that.  Fucking scary.

The girls are holed up at the very window-y residence of Em and Sarah and their mother, and it's then that things become truly terrifying – masked men are creeping around the windows, stealthily breaking into the residence, all with the intent of murdering Lily and the four girls as publicly as possible.

Like, I was genuinely on the edge of my seat during this whole scene.  It was the most intense feeling of dread I have experienced watching a movie in a long, long time.

The girls are separated, the mother is killed – Sarah and Em are dragged out to a police car and mobbed by a group of masked townspeople, all while the police officer keeps shouting about how the "good people of Salem won't stand for this," – it is skin-crawling stuff.

Lily manages to make her way to Joel McHale's house, but he thinks she leaked the info and so he goes full-psychopath and tries to murder her, but she manages to kill him and escape.  There's also a dead body in the bathtub?  I guess that was his wife?  I genuinely don't know.  I think I might've asked the television, "Who the fuck is that?!" but the TV didn’t answer me.

Now Lily's pissed off, and she's got a shotgun, because Joel McHale had a fucking arsenal at his house.  So she loads herself up with weapons and heads out.

Meanwhile, Bex has been snatched by the football team who are literally going to force her football player to lynch her on a light pole, because… of course they are. Thankfully the footballer realises he's wrong and won't do it, but by the time the others are going to do the job for him, Lily has freed both Em and Sarah by killing the cop, and the three girls roll in and start gunning down the entire football team.

And then there's a riot, and a bunch of people fall in behind the girls, and then… it turns out that Lily's brother was the hacker, and he did it for the lulz.

And then I was like… huh.

I don't know if I liked this movie.  I was certainly engrossed in it, and it held my interest, but honestly, I don't think I ever want to see it again.  It was very disturbing, which I know is the point, but still… a lot of it was really unpleasant to watch.

I mean, I know, social commentary and all, Donald Trump, the alt-right, etc etc, but like… I need movies to be escapism and this was like being thrown into a boiling hot vat of 2018 social commentary acid.

This is not to say it's a bad movie – it's not.  It's just really fucking hard to watch, and the whole time I was just thankful that I'm not a teenager now, because… fuck that.

[alsoyouremischievous]

Sides Carry On

Summary: Roman Prince will do anything to protect the life he’s found through magic. This includes enduring lectures from his best friends Logan and Patton, overcoming his evil roommate Virgil, working for the Mage, and defeating the Insidious Humdrum. His life seems to be set out for him - but things can never be easy, can they?

AO3 Link

Ch. 1  Ch. 2

Chapter three

Roman

When I finally get to the station no one is there to greet me. Not anyone I actually know, at least, but there is a man with a grubby piece of cardboard, my last name scribbled across it. Prince.

“That would be me,” I say. He doesn’t look convinced which isn’t surprising considering I don’t look much like what he would have been expecting. That is, I’m not the picture of some elitist rich kid. Especially when I’m not in uniform - my shoes are practically falling apart at the seams. Not to mention I don’t look nearly bored enough, my eyes flickering about and my leg jiggling as I stand in place.

“That’s me,” I repeat, lowering my voice to try to lean into the intimidation factor that puts off most Normals. “Going to check my ID?”

He lets his arms drop to his sides, no longer displaying the sign. “You want to be dropped off in the middle of nowhere, I’ll drop you off in the middle of nowhere,” he sighs.

In the back of the rickety taxi I close my eyes and pull my bag close as he turns on the radio. I get carsick on my better days, and today is not a better day. Not with barely anything in my stomach and anticipation filling up the rest of me.

I’m so close now.

This is the last time I get to come home to Watford. I have no doubt that I’ll return at some point, but it won’t be like this, in the fall and leaving all the world behind me.

“Candle in the Wind” comes on the radio and the cabby perks up, singing along in a tone-deaf and warbling voice.

Candle in the Wind is quite risky, as spells go. It intrigues many boys as it can help to improve your stamina, for lack of better description. Fail to emphasize the right syllable though and whoosh you’ve set an actual fire - one that can’t be put out at that. I would never attempt it, even if there was a call for it, considering my poor luck with double entendres.

The car jolts and I’m tossed forward into the back of the driver’s seat.

“Seatbelt,” He admonishes.

As I pull it on I glance at my surroundings. We’re on a back road and this is not the way to Watford. My body tenses as I peer at the cabby.

He keeps singing, moving up into an intolerable volume.

“Never knowing who to turn too -” He seems comically invested in the song. I think about telling him to belt up.

I check the mirror. His skin is a putrid green color and his lips a garish red. I look back to him as he is right in front of me, like a normal cabbie with crooked teeth and impressive eyebrows. Singing Elton John. Then I look back to the mirror again - green skin, red lips and handsome as a pop star. Goblin.

I do not want to know what he’s up to. Moving my hand to my hip I start mumbling the incantation for the Sword of Mages.

The weapon is truly incredible in that it doesn’t even properly exist until the wielder has the need to call out for it.

The driver hears me and grins, turning to face me.

If Virgil were here he would have an entire arsenal of spells that could serve a purpose here. He’d probably know of an obscure French turn of phrase that would work perfectly. He’s not here though, and I lash out with my sword as soon as it materializes in my left hand. It cuts cleanly through the goblins head and the headrest for good measure. Voila.

The body keeps driving for a moment before slumping and pulling the wheel to the side. There’s no barrier between us, thank magic, so I shove off my seatbelt and scramble into the front to grip the wheel. His foot must still be pushing on the gas as we’re already off the road and accelerating.

I try to steer us back to the road, but I’ve never actually learned to drive so the car swerves into a fence. I’m blown back by the airbag releasing. I never thought I’d go out this way.

The car stops entirely before I have time to contemplate my existence or try to come up with a way to avoid further harm.

I gather my bearings. I'm laying half on the floor and I’ve smashed my face on the window and the seat consecutively. When I tell this story to Logan or Patton I’m leaving out the part where I took off my seatbelt.

Stretching my arm behind me I reach the handle and pull the door open, unending myself out onto the grass. The car managed to tumble through the fence all the way into a field where the engine running is the only discernible sound.

I turn off the engine as I assess the damage. There’s blood splattered all through the car, and unfortunately, all over myself. There are gouges in the grass and dirt from the car and the goblin’s head is sitting a couple feet away, where it must have been tossed from the vehicle.  

There’s no static feeling in the air that comes with an attack at the behest of the Insidious Humdrum. It must have been just another revenge run from a goblin trying to win the crown. Apparently, after I helped the Coven drive them out of Essex they decided that my head was the trophy necessary to become King of the goblins. It’s their own fault for gobbling up drunks in club bathrooms, to the point that the Mage was concerned about losing regional slang.

I pull my sword from the seat where it’s gotten lodged and let it dematerialize. Once that’s done I remember to grab out my bag and rummage through it to retrieve my wand, grimacing at the blood dripping from my sleeve. I can’t just leave this whole disaster to be found and nothing is worth preserving as evidence if the Humdrum had nothing to do with this.

I hold my wand out and feel my magic push up to the surface. “Work with me here,” I whisper, “ Out, out, damned spot! ”

I’ve witnessed Logan use that spell to erase unspeakable things. All it does for me is clean up a fraction of the blood from my sneakers.

The magic is impatient, building up in me and making my fingers shake. “Please,” I urge, “ take it away! ”

Sparks splinter away from my wand like a faulty sparkler.

“Fuck me, come on ,” I shake out my wrist and point again, my stomach turning. My arm feels like it’s burning.

“ Into thin air! ” I shout. A wave of heat sweeps up from my feet as the taxi disappears. And the head. And the fence. And the road…

***

An hour later I trudge up to the driveway leading up to Watford’s gate. Thankfully I only vanished part of that back road and once I reached the main road again I was able to follow it the rest of the way.

Normals in the area believe Watford is like any other ultra-exclusive boarding school, thanks to all the glamours up around the grounds. Picani says that they add new layers of protection to the whole school as the spells are developed. If you’re a Normal I would imagine all the magic buildup would burn your eyes.

When I reach the tall iron gate I reach out and rest my hand on it. That used to be all it would take to gain entrance, the gate recognizing my magic and opening the school to me. There’s an inscription on the crossbar, below the title of the school spelled out over the arch, reading: MAGIC SEPARATES US FROM THE WORLD; LET NOTHING SEPARATE US FROM EACH OTHER.

The Mage had claimed it was a nice sentiment but not logical. In the Coven meeting where he had appealed to change the lack of defenses, he’d scoffed at the idea of taking security advice from a six-hundred-year-old gate. “I don’t expect my visitors to take orders from the cross stitching on my pillows.”

He’d taken me along to that one, with Logan and Patton for good measure, to make an example to the Coven. Won’t someone think of the children!

I tuned out of most of the debate wondering where the Mage actually lived. It’s hard enough picturing him with a house let alone throw pillows. I’d pondered whether I would ever get an invite to his home. He has rooms at Watford of course but he’s away for weeks at a time and I’d used to picture him living in the woods foraging to survive and sleeping in a hollow tree. Adjusting my view of him took some time.

In any case, security gets stiffer and admittance to Watford trickier every year.

Logan’s brother, one of the Mage’s Men, is stationed this year as a guard. I can’t imagine he’s pleased with the state of things considering the rest of the Mage’s Men are probably up in the Mage’s office planning some raid or offensive maneuver while he’s stuck out here, checking in first years.

He moves into my way.

“Alright, Nate?”

“You’re asking me?” he says eyeing me up lazily, dried blood and all.

“Goblin,” is all the explanation he needs.

Nate nods, pulling his wand out slowly to cast a cleaning spell on me. I hate when people do this, it makes me feel like a child. It’s easier than scrubbing it out though, so I mutter a quick, “thanks,” as I go to slip around him.

“Hold up,” he says, putting his arm out. He takes a moment to lay his wand on my forehead, “Special measures, considering the Humdrum is running around with your face nowadays.”

I jerk but don’t pull away from his wand. “I uh, I thought that was meant to be a secret.”

“Yes,” He nods slowly in agreement. “But it’s a secret that needs to be shared with people like me so we can keep you safe.”

I scoff, “If I were the Humdrum, you’d have been eaten by now.”

He doesn’t seem phased.

“Either way then we’d know it was him. Maybe that’s the Mage’s plan.” He lowers his wand at an infuriatingly slow pace. “You’re good to go.”

“Is Logan here yet?”

He shrugs. “I’m not my brother’s keeper”

For a moment I think he’s pouring magic into the words to cast a spell, but he turns from me and leans against the rail in his usual lackadaisical fashion.

***

The Great Lawn is empty. I guess I’m one of the first to arrive. I start running, because I can, and upset a huddle of swallows hidden in the grass. I keep running as they flap and twitter around me, and still past the drawbridge that comes up at night, and the secondary gates, and on until I’ve reached the top of Mummers House where I finally stop to pant against my doorway.

I call for the Sword of Mages again and use it to prick my thumb and press my blood into the stone. There’s a spell I could use instead, of course, to reintroduce myself to the room after being away. The spell takes more work though, and Virgil isn’t even here yet to smell the blood.

My room. It’ll be our room again soon enough but for now, it’s mine. I push the window open with fervor to smell the fresh air and fall back onto my bed as I watch the dust motes dance through the room.

The ancient mattress is stuffed with feathers and preserved through spellwork. Merlin. Merlin and Morgana and Methuselah, it’s good to be back. It’s always so good to be back.

Returning for the first time in my second year had led to me sobbing like a baby in my bed until well after Virgil had arrived.

“Why are you crying already? You’re ruining my plans to drive you to tears, Roman. Pathetic,” he ’d scoffed, as though I’d done it in some elaborate scheme to get one over on him.

I let my eyes fall shut to appreciate the smell.

Feathers. Dust. Lavender.

Water, from the moat.

There’s also that slightly acrid smell that Virgil swears is from the Merwolves. It’s a terrible mistake to give Virgil any excuse to go off about them. Sometimes I catch him leaning out the window to spit at the moat, that’s how much he detests the species.

If he were here already I wouldn’t be able to smell anything over his soap… I take a deep breath trying to catch the scent of cedar.

There’s a rattle at the door, and I spring up reaching for the Sword of Mages yet again. That’s three times in one day. Maybe I should just start leaving it out. The incantation is the only spell that never fails me, but that’s mostly because it’s not quite a spell but more of an oath.

“ In Justice. In Courage. In defense of the Weak. In the face of the Mighty. Through Magic and Wisdom and Good.”

The sword doesn’t have to appear at all. It’s in ‘my possession’ but it doesn’t really belong to anyone. It only comes if it trusts you.

I swing the sword up to my shoulder right as Logan pushes the door open. I let it drop.

“You shouldn’t be able to do that,” I say as Logan crosses the room to Virgil’s desk.

He shrugs and seats himself in Virgil’s chair. I grin.

“If Virgil finds out you were touching his stuff he’ll kill you,” I say, twisting my wrist and letting the sword fade again.

“Let him try,” he sizes me up. “You look terrible.”

“I ran into a goblin on the way.”

He sighs, “Why can’t they just vote in the next king?”

His voice is light, but I can tell he’s testing the waters. The last time he saw me I was barely held together by a mix of magic, willpower, and his hand on my arm. The last time I saw Logan everything was falling apart…

After we escaped the Humdrum and managed to flee back to Watford we crashed the end of year ceremony and it wasn’t pretty. Logan’s family was there - everyone’s family was there - and his mother tore into the Mage.

“This is your fault!” she’d screeched, gripping Logan tightly by the arm as though he would slip away without an anchor.  And then Nate had gotten between her and the Mage and started yelling right back. People must have assumed that the Humdrum was right behind us because the Chapel became a mess of everyone running with their wands out. I can’t blame them - I must have looked a fright still bleeding from my pores (no one can explain what caused that).

It felt more than just chaotic. It felt like the end.

Then Logan’s mum had spelled their whole family away, even Nate mid drawn out shout. They probably only traveled to their car but Logan’s hand, holding on to me as tightly as his mother held him, suddenly vanishing from my arm made me feel as though there was an insurmountable distance between us. It was a very lonely feeling.

I haven’t talked to him since.

I desperately want to scoop him up right this instance and check him over to see that he’s properly okay, but Logan hates scenes almost as much as his mum loves them. My uniform is laid out for me at the end of my bed and I turn to it as an excuse to ignore the urge, putting it away piece by piece. New grey slacks. New green and purple striped tie…

Logan lets out a deep sigh. I move back to my bed and perch facing Logan, trying to control the massive grin that wants to spread across my face. “What could possibly have you so bothered this early on?”

“Patton.” I have to stifle a laugh at his very obviously false put-upon face.

“And what has he done then?”

“Come back,” He asserts, fixing his glasses on his face. I don’t bother hiding my amusement this time, snorting at him without any sort of restraint.

“I really don’t believe that you expected him to do anything else,” I say. It’s always amusing to watch as Logan and Patton re-acclimate to each other.

“The room is already covered in his home-baked goods. He’s not been away near long enough to have needed a care package, Roman.” I really don’t think he cares about whether or not the room contains baked goods. He cares about being eternally thrown off by Patton’s continuous warmth, and about all the awkward missteps they’ll inevitably make while they work at finding their natural dynamic again. I don’t say that though.

“In his defense,” I begin, “his father’s cookies are delicious -”

“You’re only on his side because his side may lead to you getting cookies,” Logan scoffs.

I giggle, “You can’t seriously be implying that Patton’s side is the dark side, are you? It’s Patton!”

“You are perfectly aware that I was making no such insinuation,” he says, rolling his eyes at me with more force than is strictly necessary. He claims that I’m the dramatic one, but I don’t see it.

I swallow another laugh but end up beaming at him anyway. Great snakes, I missed this nerd so much. “And it’s your last year anyway, you can deal with some cookies, for Merlin’s sake Logan,” I let myself finish as though there was no interruption.

He straightens up at that. “It’s our last year, Roman. And I know precisely what you will be doing next summer.”

“What’s that?”

He grins, “Hanging out with me.”

“Hunting the Humdrum?”

“Fuck the Humdrum.”

We both snicker, but I can’t help internally grimacing at the thought of him. The Humdrum looks exactly like an eleven-year-old version of me, which I might believe I’d hallucinated if Logan hadn’t seen him too.

I shudder.

Logan notices. “You are not at your optimum weight range.”

“It’s just the clothes.”

He seems exasperated. “Well change then,” He says. He already has. “It’s near time to head to the cafeteria anyway.”

I hop up to gather my outfit but Logan rises too and grabs my arm in the same place he’d held last time. “It is good to see you,” He says quietly, peering into my eyes.

I smile. Again. Logan has a way of making my cheeks hurt.

“Don’t make a scene,” I whisper back.

Ch. 4

[shortkingactivism]

prompt: shane finding out that ryan is a seer who can see ghosts, but shane doesn't believe him at first but he eventually does? you can change it up if you like if this is too much! love your writing

Thank you for your kind words I hope you like this! I’m on mobile rn so sorry if anything is a lil wonky I’ll try to fix it when I get off vacation!

——

It starts out small.

Having worked with Ryan as long as Shane had, he’s pretty confident in his arsenal of Useless Ryan Trivia. He knows Ryan likes to work out when he’s stressed, knows his favorite brand of popcorn is the fancy one that had to be made on a stove instead of in the microwave and knows that he has the tendency to talk to himself. Like a lot. So when he wakes up in the middle of the night to Ryan softly mumbling he thinks nothing of it at first.

They’d just gotten back from a location, a small house out in the middle of West Bumblefuck, Missouri where a man had snapped one day and killed his wife and children as they slept. A sad case but not Satanic as Ryan had been so quick to claim.

The investigation had been relatively uneventful aside from the usual nonsense EVPs they had captured on the Screeching Hell Box but Ryan had still returned to their shared hotel room keyed up and twitchy.

He kept casting furtive glances to dark corners of their room and looking over his shoulder, probably thinking himself inconspicuous but which Shane picked up on right away. He tried not to tease Ryan too much, knowing how affected he could get after their investigations, yet the pull was too strong to resist entirely.

“You okay, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Shane said, giving him what could only be described as a shiteating grin.

“Fuck off, squatch. That place just gave me some bad vibes, y’know?”

“Again with the vibes? What are you, psychic now or something?”

Shane scoffed and Ryan laughed along mechanically.

“Oh come on, Ryan. We’re fine. If the ghouls were really that upset they would’ve squared up to me ages ago. Given me the ol’ one two.” He nudged Ryan slightly and smiled when he seemed to loosen up a bit.

“You’re right, who could pass up the chance to knock your limp noodle body around. I can barely suppress the urge.”

“Aw, Ryan. I’m touched. If you wanted to get your hands on me you could’ve just asked.”

Ryan snorted.

“You wish.”

Mood lightened, Ryan seemed fine to go to sleep. Seemed being the keyword as Ryan was once again awake and probably telling his camera all about the spooky sound of footsteps in a well inhabited place. Ooooo.

Shane listened closely, too exhausted to get up just yet if Ryan was at a manageable level of fear and would be able to calm himself down without Shanes’ help.

“You’ll be okay. Everything’s alright.”

There. Ryan was talking himself down and didn’t actually sound at all upset. Shane let himself relax and almost immediately felt himself falling back asleep.

“Hey, no buddy. Please don’t cry. You’re alright. Go back home, your mom’s probably looking for you right now.”

What? Shanes brows furrowed and he was fully awake once more.

“It’s okay. He won’t be there. He’s gone, I promise. Please, buddy? For me? You don’t want your mom to be sad do you?”

Ryan paused as if waiting for a response and Shane strained his ears, too. Maybe he was on the phone? Or talking in his sleep? But there was no light piercing through the dark of their room and for as long as Shane had known him Ryan had never once talked in his sleep. So what was going on?

Across the room from him, Ryan laughed, light and airy.

“That’s what I thought. Now go on. You’ll be alright. Goodbye, little guy!”

Shane laid quietly in his bed, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Ryan to yell “sike!” and spin his camera around for his reaction. All he heard, however, was Ryan heaving a deep sigh before shifting around to get more comfortable.

When nothing more happened, Shane finally allowed his confusion to succumb to his exhaustion and drifted off, promising himself to confront Ryan about it in the morning.

——“Hey, little guy how’d you sleep last night. You look, quite frankly, like shit.”

“Damn, Madej. You really know how to sweet talk a guy. Should I strip now or later?” Ryan deadpanned.

“Any excuse to lose the shirt, huh? But really, you look tired. Are you alright?” Shane asked, subtly trying to get closure for last night’s events.

“It was alright. Had a little trouble sleeping, though. Kept thinking about the case. You really have to be a shitty person to do that to your family, huh?”

“Oh for sure. You gotta hop right onto the train to Sucksville for that. No transfers, nothin’. Just straight on to Sucksville, population: That Guy.”

“‘Population: That Guy’ Jesus. You really don’t even remember his name? We just talked about it yesterday!”

“Ryan, if I could remember the name of every shitty murderer to ever exist then I wouldn’t working be at Buzzfeed.”

“Oh yeah? Then where would you be?”

“Killin’ it on some super niche game show about killers from the middle of nowhere, obviously Ryan. Keep up!”

Ryan laughs, bright and loud and Shane feels his own face morph into a smile of its own.

In the end they get too distracted thinking up disturbing names for Shane’s imaginary game show for him to bring up Ryan’s night once more.

——Eventually, Shane pushes that night to the back of his mind, rationalizing it as sleep talking and leaving it at that. There’s not much else to explain it away with and Shane’s pretty content with his answer.

Shane, however, doesn’t completely forget about the incident. He finds himself paying closer attention to Ryan than before, something he previously thought impossible.

He drags his eyes over him at every possible opportunity, strains his ears to scan for his voice and spends way to much time thinking over their interactions.

If Shane didn’t know any better he’d say he’d developed a crush on Ryan. But that was dumb because he was a grown man and that was his best friend. He was simply… researching, compiling notes like he would for an episode of Ruining History. Delving in deep to get all the right facts and throw out the bullshit would take an attentive eye, of course.

And through his observations Shane had made several slightly worrying discoveries.

Ryan was talking to himself more, forome. Normally, Shane could blame it on the stress from the pressure of planning out a new season but Ryan’s research was going off without a hitch. Plus, it was almost never at work or at his desk.

Sometimes, Shane and Ryan would be scouting out a location and the second Ryan believed Shane was out of earshot he would start muttering under his breath, gesturing and looking over his shoulder as if afraid to get caught.

Ryan, he noticed, also refused to stare at one place for too long. He would either focus all his attention on Shane or his eyes would dart around whatever room they were in, never settling, as if avoiding eye contact. At first Shane had written it off as a result of Ryan’s nervous energy and inability to hold still and then after coming to terms with his feelings for Ryan he had hoped it meant that maybe Ryan felt the same way. But Shane decided that, no, something about it felt off.

Maybe it was the way Ryan would almost seem fearful about taking his eyes away from someone else’s face. Or maybe it was the times that his gaze would catch on something, eyes sparking with something akin to recognition and sadness before they would quickly scurry to the next spot. Shane wasn’t quite sure but it worried him.

The final straw was after yet another shoot at a haunted location. This time a young girl, Ciara Fisher, had died in a house fire and was said to haunt the place, crying at night and clawing at the doors in an attempt to escape the fire she still experienced each night.

Shane had woken in the middle of the night to use the bathroom only to experience fear gripping his chest as he saw Ryan’s empty sleeping bag beside him.

He got up in a hurry, switching on his flashlight and creeping across the house quietly in search for his partner.

“Ryan?” He called out in a hushed, panicked voice. “Where are you?” No response.

Worried, Shane continued his search. Faintly, he thought he heard whispering coming from down the hall, the site where Ryan had said the little girl had been trapped. When he turned the corner he saw her bedroom door wide open with a faint light emitting from it.

Quietly, Shane approached the room, keeping his footsteps light in case it wasn’t Ryan and instead some intruder who wanted to hurt them.

As he got closer, however, Shane was able to easily make out Ryan’s voice in the silent room.

“Wow, you tied that bow all by yourself? I’m impressed!” A pause. “Of course I’ll miss you, sweetie, but don’t you think your parents miss you more?”

Shane peeked in and saw Ryan seated on the ground, body turned slightly to face a corner of the room. He could just barely make out Ryan’s soft smile in the dim moonlight streaming through the grimy window.

“I won’t forget you, I promise. How could I ever forget meeting a real life princess! Oh, a fairy princess? My bad, your majesty! Oh, no no come on sweetie. No more crying. No need to be sad, I’ll see you again one day. That’s more like it. Goodbye Princess Ciara.”—-

Oh. Oh shit. Ryan thought. That he was talking. To ghosts. Oh shit.

That was not good. At all. On no planet was this okay. He had to talk to him, had to get him some help. He couldn’t- wouldn’t - let some show on Youtube irreversibly fuck with his best friends’ psyche like that.

Shane backed out of the room and all but ran for his sleeping bag. When they got back from this trip they were gonna have a nice, loooong talk.

—-“Ryan, we need to talk.”

“Uh oh, are you breaking up with me, Shane?” Shane remained straight faced even as his stomach fluttered stupidly at the implication that he and Ryan were dating.

“I’m serious Ryan. I- I think you need to stop doing Unsolved.”

“Very funny, Shane. Let me just grow another 2 feet in my sleep while I’m at it.” Ryan rolled his eyes, before turning back to the tv, popcorn in hand.

Shane grabbed the remote and muted the movie, determined to have this talk despite Ryan’s complaints.

“Ryan, I really think you need to take a break from Unsolved. I know its your baby but seriously, mental health comes first.”

“Mental health- what does that even mean? Sure, I get scared sometimes but so what? It’s not like I’m about to suffer from a psychic break or something…” Ryan trailed off, eyes narrowing, “holy shit do you think I’ve finally, like, snapped or something? What the fuck, man!”

“Ryan, it’s just that…”

“No, fuck you, man. I don’t think, like, the Devil’s been whispering in my ear, telling me to clickbait articles to get extra ad revenue or whatever. I’m fi-“

“I heard you talking to the little girl, Ryan! And the boy in Missouri. And you’ve been acting weird and skittish and I just- I just want you to get better. I need you to be okay.”

Shane’s voice was breaking now, trailing off as the thought of Ryan not getting the help he needed hit him full force. Ryan lost the anger he initially felt, softening at the sight of Shane wilting in front of him.

“Shane I’m not- I can’t,” He took a deep breath before composing himself, wincing at the thought of what he was about to say, “I appreciate your concern but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“What?” Shane’s head shot up in surprise, “what do you mean?”

“I mean, I have no clue what you’re talking about Shane. You know I would never talk to a ghost or some shit like that. Maybe… maybe you’re the one who needs help right now. Or maybe you dreamt it?”

“Really? Are you really doing this to me, Ryan?”

“Doing what, Shane. I’m just saying you don’t seem to have been sleeping well either-“

“That’s because I’ve been up all night worrying about you! Because you’re talking to people who aren’t there! And I’m worried about you but if you’re gonna stand there and- and fucken gaslight me then fine! I’ll quit Unsolved and you won’t have to worry about lying to me anymore.”

Shane turned to leave, anger and disbelief clouding his judgement. He was halfway to the door of Ryan’s apartment when he felt a strong hand on his forearm.

“Wait, please don’t go. I’m sorry that I lied to you like that. I’m just…scared. I don’t know how to talk about this.”

“Ryan. I’m your best friend. You should never be ashamed to talk about your mental health.”

“That’s just the problem, Shane,” he whispered, “it has nothing to do with my mental health. I’m a Seer. I can see ghosts.”

Shane’s heart broke.

“No, stop it, Shane. Stop making that face. I’m not, I don’t know, schizophrenic or something. Trust me I’ve been to my fair share of doctors to make sure I’m not making this up to know.”

“Ryan, you can’t- I mean. That’s not- ghosts aren’t real. You have to understand that. Maybe it’s something you didn’t have checked, like-“

“I knew it. You don’t believe me. God, I’m so stupid.” He started cleaning the room, sweeping stray popcorn into the bowls and shutting off the tv.

“I think it’s best if you go home.”

“Ryan, that’s not fair. I’m just trying to help you.”

“Well, if your idea of help is trying to get me committed then I don’t want it!”

“How do you think I feel? The person I’m in love with is losing his goddamn mind and he won’t even consider getting help.”

Pause.

“You’re in love with me?”

“That’s not- I didn’t. Fuck.”

Ryan smiled softly, heart soaring.

“You’re in love with me!” Ryan was beaming before he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

“Okay, let me try something. Let me prove it to you.”

“What? How? How could you possibly prove it to me? It’s not real.”

“You’re grandma loves you a lot, y’know?” Ryan started, apropos of nothing, “She thinks you’re real funny, Lord knows why.”

“Don’t.”

“She’s really sweet. She likes to hang around the set and watch you do your thing sometimes. Says she’s waiting for you to get your head out your ass. Never knew what she meant by that but I think I can guess now.”

“Ryan, this isn’t funny. This is fucked up, man.”

“Shane, please. I’m not trying to hurt you,” he was more solemn now, less light hearted and more serious, handling it with the respect he felt they both deserved.

“She always wanted me to tell you she’s so sorry for missing your school concerts but she loved when you would come to her hospital room and show her videos of you playing and tell her funny stories. I kept telling her I couldn’t, that you wouldn’t believe me, but she wanted you to know so badly how much she loves you.”

Shane’s crying now, shoulders shaking in silent sobs and Ryan wants to move closer, to comfort him, but he isn’t sure he’s allowed.

“She loves you so much, Shane. Her mała gwiazda.”

Shane launches himself into Ryan’s arms and then they’re both crying, intertwining themselves so closely they’re almost one being.

“What the fuck, Ryan? I mean, what the fuck?”

“I know, it’s a lot to take in. I’m sorry.”

Eventually, they calm down, exhausted from the crying and the revelations. They move to lie more comfortably on the couch, Ryan lying on his side and Shane wrapped around him like a particularly clingy octopus.

“Mała gwiazda,” Shane says, breaking the silence, “it means little star in Polish. She used to call me that during the visits. It’s the only Polish I really remember now.”

Ryan just smiles at him softly, burrowing closer to his chest.

“So,” Shane says, “any other earth shattering secrets you wanna come clean with. You got abducted by a UFO recently? Getting frisky with our boy, the Mothman?”

Ryan laughs but gets quiet, turning to face Shane head on.

“Actually, yeah. Just one more.”

“Oh?” Shane hums, lifting a brow. “Hit me, baby!”

Ryan rolls his eyes fondly but keeps looking Shane in the eyes as he wraps his arms around him, resting his hands behind his neck to play with the short strands of hair there. Shane’s heart stutters and nothing, he thinks, could ever top this moment.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

Shane smiles widely, eyes crinkling with it. As he swoops down to capture Ryan’s lips with his own he thinks he could stand to be wrong more often if the outcomes were always this breathtaking.

Who needed to be skeptic when he had all he needed to believe in right here, anyways?

[ktrsss1fics]

Cake By The Ocean: One

The employees of the law offices of Corningstone & Wallace are given two weeks paid vacation every year. The magic of last year’s trip had erased the memory of any other vacation from Georgina Ferguson’s mind. Roaming Aruban beaches with pineapples full of rum and making out with a cute Irish boy had ignited a spark that she had never felt before. From that moment on, she was a changed woman. She could parallel park on the busy street where her favorite ice cream shop was located. She was eating more leafy green vegetables. She could bake a Dutch apple pie from scratch. She even bought a new bike for the beach. However, the biggest change to Georgina’s life was the fact that she was head over heels in love with Niall Horan.

The love she received was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Growing up, she had read plenty of stories where men showcased their love. Paris’ love caused a war. Orpheus’ took him to hell and back. Alcyone’s went to his head. Zeus’ created a trail of broken hearts.  

But this wasn’t a mythological tale, this was real life. Niall’s love was different. His love was real. It was warm and kind and invigorating. His love made her believe in the future for the first time. His love made her realize she wasn’t broken. She was able to love. His love was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

But as of lately, that love had been neglected. He had been busy touring the globe. She had been busy saving the firm. Their phone calls were short. Their text messages were even shorter. She had been counting down the hours until she got to see him again.

Lucky for her, the countdown had made it’s way down to seven. In seven whole hours, she’d get to see the smiling face of her loving boyfriend. In seven whole hours, she’d get to hear his laugh and watch him reconnect with the rest of their friends. In seven whole hours, she’d have to pretend the boy she was in love with was just a boy that she could tolerate. In seven hours, she’d get to see him but only as a friend.

Why was that?

No one knew they were together. They had successfully kept it a secret for the past seven months. The only way they were able to last so long was the fact that he was gone for most of it. The two week trip to Greece they were about to embark on was going to put their relationship to the test. It would prove whether or not they were made to last. Having to share a house with eight of their closest friends while being in a secret relationship was going to be the ultimate test.

Their relationship status had caused plenty of arguments in the past couple weeks. From the moment he left for tour, they had gone back and forth. She didn’t want to tell anyone because she was worried she wasn’t ready to be someone’s girlfriend. Yes, they were official but Niall was the only one who knew. She was safe in this bubble, where outside eyes couldn’t harm her. What if their friends found out and things fizzled out? She’d never forgive herself. It took a few months of being on her own for her to realize that she was being ridiculous. She loved Niall and he loved her. Nothing was going to happen to them – no matter who found out. Just as fate would have it, the moment she switched teams, Niall switched too. He didn’t want anyone to know. He never told her why but he was adamant about keeping what they had a secret. He said she wouldn’t understand and that they needed to talk in person.

In seven hours, she was going to have that talk.

In the meantime, Georgina Ferguson sat on a sidewalk in the middle of a neighborhood in Mykonos while Jenna rambled on about the date she went on the night before with Stephen. She hadn’t been paying attention though. Her eyes were glued to her phone. It had been blowing up with reassuring texts from Niall since she got off the plane. Preflight jitters had gotten the best of her when she dropped Scout off at Keith’s cousin’s place so he had taken it upon himself to calm her down. For the most part, it had worked.

Another thing that helped cure her nerves was the blonde haired woman sitting beside her. Brittany knew something was bothering her but didn’t press the issue. Instead, she made sure that every preflight ritual was completed and that Georgina was given the seat by the window. She got them to the house in one piece. She put Georgina in charge of keeping an eye on the boys. They were picking up the keys to the house, the car Keith had rented, and something for the group to eat.

Brittany nudged Georgina’s leg, “Dave text back yet?”

“Should be here in fifteen minutes.” Georgina looked up. “Keith’s driving.”

“So it’ll be more like a half hour.” Jenna said making the others laugh.

Mags stretched out, leaning against her luggage. “Might as well work on our tans, ladies.”

“I hope this house is nice.” Jenna said rolling up the sleeves of her shirt.

“Neighborhood looks nice enough.” Brittany said looking around. “I think Keith did alright.”

“When are Ash and Marco getting in?” Mags asked looking up towards the sky.

“In a forty-five minutes, I think.” Georgina said.

“D’ya think they’ll actually want to spend time with us this trip?” Brittany asked.

“I’m surprised they were even invited.” Jenna said. “We never see them anymore.”

“I think the boys just wanted to be nice.” Mags shrugged.

“They’ll probably go out with us once and then stay in to shag for the rest of the trip.” Georgina said.

“You know what? That doesn’t sound half bad Ferguson. Maybe Jamie and I will do it.” Mags smirked glancing over at the blonde.

“Just keep him quiet.” Georgina fired back.

“It’s not him we have to worry about.” Jenna sniggered.

“So Jenna tell the girls how you gave Steve a blowie before he left yesterday.” Mags shot back.

“What the fuck!” Georgina squealed wide-eyed.

“Jenna! Skimping out on the details, are we?” Brittany teased.

“You bitch.” Jenna mumbled glaring at the older woman beside her.

“I’m not the one who had a stranger’s penis in my mouth less than twenty-four hours ago!” Mags said throwing her hands up dramatically.

“Margaret Fairchild! I swear to fucking God.” Jenna whined. “Stop picking on me.”

“Jens, I didn’t think you liked doing oral?” Georgina smirked. “Makes ya feel like a slag.”

“She was all about it last night.” Mags mumbled making Brittany laugh.

“Pick on Fergie instead!” Jenna said crossing her arms over her chest.

“Her time will come, my friend. Don’t worry.” Mags smiled.

“Looking forward to it, Margaret.” Georgina replied before focusing back on her phone.

“Can you check the group message to see when Ni’s getting in?” Brittany asked.

“Yeah,” Georgina said pretending to scan her inbox. She already had it memorized. “Uh says six.”

“Just in time for dinner.” Mags nodded. “Are we gonna go out tonight?”

“I’m up for it.” Jenna said.

“Want another stranger’s penis in your mouth?” Brittany joked making Mags snort.

Jenna’s entire body flushed red. “You three are such bitches.”

“You love us.” Mags said blowing her a kiss.

“So JenJen, you must be really feeling Steve then. You only do that when you are serious about someone.” Georgina said trying to salvage the conversation.

“Yeah well I was just uh reciprocating the love so to speak.” Jenna blushed.

“Oh yeah? Was he good at that?” Brittany asked.

“Better than the last one.” Jenna said.

“You lot have always been too hard on the Lizard King.” Georgina said making Brittany giggle. “At least he tried. That’s worth something.”

“Oh my god, Fergie!” Jenna squealed. “You didn’t experience it so you don’t know how fucking weird it was. No woman should ever go through that.”

“Marcus was always terrible at it so I wouldn’t know anything different.” Fergie shrugged.

“Dave’s decent. We save that stuff for special occasions though.” Brittany sighed.

“Doesn’t get a blowjob every day like our boy Chief Keef?” Jenna said dryly. “You know, I think Keith’s penis is the one penis I would never want in me mouth ever.”

The other three woman nodded in agreement.

“It’s got to be big, yeah? Or he’s got to be ace in the sack or something because the birds he pulls are way out of his league.” Georgina said putting her phone away.

“Let’s be real, I think the fact he resembles Ni helps him most days.” Jenna said.

“And there is no way he gets one every single day unless he is suckin’ himself off.” Mags said making the other girls cackle loudly.

“Every day is too much. David gets one on his birthday and our anniversary.” Brittany said. “That’s it.”

“And whenever Chelsea wins.” Georgina added.

“Jamie is the same. Birthday, Christmas, and our anniversary.” Mags explained.

“And whenever Chelsea beats Arsenal.” Georgina added.

“How do you know this?” Jenna asked confused.

“The fellas think I’m one of them.” Georgina shrugged. “They are a lot more open with each other than I thought they would be.”

“Do they talk about everything?” Mags asked sliding her sunnies down the bridge of her nose.

“Not when I’m around.” Georgina shook her head. “Your fiIthy little secrets are safe Margaret.”

“Good.” Mags winked before putting her glasses back into place.

“Ferg, we need to find you a Greek boy toy for the next two weeks.” Jenna said smugly. “Someone to have fun with.”

“Ehh, I’ll pass. Brought me vibrator. I’m set.” Georgina replied emotionless.

“Do you know what’s sad? I can never climax with one of those. I’ve got to sit through sex with James when I need to get off.” Mags admitted. “It’s dreadful sometimes — no offense to him.”

“This one’s the exact opposite.” Brittany said nodding towards her best friend.

“What!” Jenna and Mags said in unison.

Heat rushed to Georgina’s cheeks. “Never had one.”

“Marcus never—“ Mags trailed off.

“Always faked it.” Georgina sighed. “He really was a piece of shit at everything.”

“But you are twenty seven…” Jenna said wide-eyed. “A man’s never made you orgasm, really?”

Georgina shook her head trying not to act bothered by it. She knew it was a lie. Niall had proven that plenty of times before he left for tour.

“Georgina, that’s unacceptable.” Mags shook her head disappointed. “This has to change.”

“New goal of the trip: find someone to take Fergie to O-Town.” Jenna chimed in.

“Jens! I know the perfect person.” Mags smirked.

Jenna’s face lit up reading the older woman’s mind. “Oh I think I know who it is.”

“If Niall Horan’s name comes out of either of your mouths, I will suffocate you both in your sleep tonight.” Georgina glared playfully.

“Whoa! Cool the jets Fergie Ferg.” Jenna laughed.

“Babes, all we need to do is get a little bit of sangria into you and some whiskey into him, lock you in a room, and not let you out until you climax at least twice.” Mags said enthusiastically. “I’m sure Ni would be more than happy to help.”

“I reckon it wouldn’t take him long.” Jenna added. “I mean he’d be so into it he wouldn’t stop until you were able to finish more than once.”

“Exactly. Kid’s a perfectionist.” Mags nodded.

”Never quits. Be like a marathon shag session. You’d be taken care of, love.” Jenna chirped as Brittany linked her fingers with her best friend.

“You two are the worst.” Georgina blushed.

Brittany squeezed Fergie’s hand trying to show solidarity. Georgina appreciated the gesture.

“If you would have just made out with him in Vegas like we wanted, we would have moved on from this,” Mags said examining her nail beds.

“No you wouldn’t.” Georgina laughed loudly.

“Okay so maybe you’re right.” The older woman giggled. “I just can’t help it. You two would be perfect together.”

“Oh stop. We wouldn’t work out. We are both too stubborn and workaholics. And besides he doesn’t even like me like that.” Georgina blushed trying to find a way out of this conversation.

“That’s not what our group chat says.” Jenna replied smugly.

“Kid’s basically in love with ya, Ferg.” Mags smiled.

“He’d be a fool not to be.” Brittany said as she sat up. She focused on a car heading in their direction, “Looks like the boys are here.”

The group of women stood up and started putting their things together. As Keith pulled into the driveway, Georgina looked at her phone.

Only six hours and twenty-five minutes to go.

Six hours and twenty-five minutes.

She couldn’t wait.

The house Keith had picked was actually decent. It looked like it should be in a Bond film. The rooms were massive, the appliances were new, and a salt water pool took up most of the backyard. The best part was the view from the backyard. A group of bougainvillea trees framed the fence , which showcased a perfect view of the Mediterranean Sea. It was the prettiest sight she had seen since they landed.

Georgina’s room was on the first floor of the multi-tiered house. Niall’s room was a few doors down. Much like in Aruba, all the single members of the group were placed in one section of the house while the couples stayed in another. As unfair as it was, this time it worked in Georgina’s advantage. It would make her life a lot easier knowing that her best friend wouldn’t be snooping around.

As she unpacked her bag, she started to think of a way for her and Niall to spend time together. She knew it would either have to be after everyone went to sleep or before everyone woke up. There were two beds in each room so if they were careful a sleepover could take place. A nervous energy filled the pit of her stomach just thinking about it. She didn’t know if they could do this. She didn’t want to keep it a secret anymore.

Just when she was about to send a series of panicked texts in her boyfriend’s direction, a female with an American accent called out her name. Confused, the young Brit turned towards the door. Standing in the doorway in a low cut form-fitting sundress was a woman she had never seen before. Her hair was dark, her breasts were fake, and a different kind of smile was plastered across her face. She couldn’t quite tell what it meant but Georgina knew she didn’t trust it.

“Are you Fergie?” The woman said stepping inside the room.

“Ye-yeah.” Georgina stammered.

“Oh good! I’m Mar — short for Marlene. Keith said we were sharing a room.” The American giggled as she headed for the other bed in the room.

“What?” Georgina asked confused by her comment about Keith.

“Yeah, Keith said I was going to share a room with a girl named Fergie.” Mar explained sitting down on the bed. “Fergie. What’s that short for?”

Georgina tried to put the pieces together but she couldn’t. She didn’t know if it was nerves or lack of sleep but she didn’t get what was going on.

She closed her eyes. “Okay, wait so Keith said what now? What’s happening?”

The American laughed. “Oh my god! British people are so cute. I’m Mar short for Marlene. Ash and I work together. Keith invited me here.”

“He said the blonde named Jenna won’t share a room but the blonde named Fergie will.” Mar explained. “You’re the one who works a lot right? You probably just missed the message he sent.”

Georgina couldn’t believe what had come out of Mar’s mouth. Keith knew he would have had to get approval from the entire group before inviting a  complete stranger. He knew that. Mags and Britt created that rule ages ago. Everyone was overprotective of Niall and wanted him to have the chance at a normal life — especially on vacation. The fact that he had done it anyways blew Georgina’s mind.

“So you work with Ashlee and Keith invited you. Got it.” Georgina faked a smile.

“He said everyone was excited for me to join.” Mar said—the smile from earlier appeared. “Uh so Fergs, when’s the blonde one showing up?”

“Who?” Georgina asked confused. The group was made up of a handful of blondes. She could have been referring to anybody.

“Oh yeah, I guess he’s not blonde anymore. He was the last time we were together.” Mar said correcting herself.

Georgina’s face fell. That smile. That’s what it meant. This girl wasn’t here to be another one of Keith’s conquests; she was here to be one of Niall’s. The thought of this girl flying across the world to try to hook up with her best friend because he was famous made her blood boil.

“So is he still single?” Mar asked, a hopeful tone to her voice.

“Um Ash can fill you in.” Georgina said before heading for the door. “I need to go take care of something.”

With that, the blonde haired woman was gone. Her fingers were flying across the screen of her phone as she sent a message to Ni trying to explain what was happening but the rage building inside her was making her thoughts incoherent.

She knew this trip was going to be frustrating for her but she didn’t expect it to start this early. She made her way through the house looking for one specific man. She found him drinking a beer in the kitchen with David and Jamie.

“Oi! Miller!” Georgina called out from across the room.

“Hey Ferg.” Keith said raising his bottle towards her.

The other two men studied her face as she drew near. It was obvious that she was less than pleased. Jamie took a step away from Keith knowing something was about to go down.

“Mate.” Dave sighed. “What’d you do now?”

“Honestly don’t know.” Keith mumbled. “But I reckon I’m about to find out.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Georgina said once she made it over to the group of men.

“Um, Keith Miller?” He replied somewhat unsure of his answer.

“First of all, you can’t just invite people without asking the entire group if it’s okay.” She said crossing her arms over her chest. “And second, you can’t just give people’s rooms away. That’s bull shit.”

“Georgie, what’s going on?” Dave asked.

“Keith is more concerned with getting his dick wet than he is about anyone else this trip.” Georgina grumbled.

“Babes, it’s not like that.” Keith said moving towards her. “I promise.”

“Don’t.” She replied causing him to move back to his spot.

“Ferg, I promise that’s not what is going on.” Keith said trying to convincing.

“That’s not what fake tits over there is saying.” Georgina glared. “Apparently everyone is excited for her to be here and I must I missed the messages where she got invited because I work too much. Sound familiar?”

“Who ya talking about Ferg?” Dave asked placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Me, probably.” Mar’s American accent called out from behind them.

Their attention was now focused on the black haired woman standing near the doorway.

“Who the fuck is that?” Jamie whispered to Georgina.

“Mar. Short for Marlene. Works with Ash and was invited by this prick.” Georgina rattled off. “Oh I almost forgot, she’s apparently my roommate for the duration of this trip.”

“Mate.” Jamie sighed shaking his head at Keith.

“Honestly thought it would be a good idea.” Keith said sheepishly. “I should have planned this better.”

“I’m not sharing a room with her.” Georgina said defiantly.

“Okay well we’ll figure something out.” Dave said rubbing her back. “Don’t worry G.”

“There aren’t any rooms left.” Jamie said. “Are there?”

“I can take this one’s room and he can sleep on the couch.” Georgina nodded at Keith.

“But what if I pull? I need a room. Can’t shag someone on a couch.” Keith said — a hint of desperation in his voice.

“I mean Mar’s got an extra bed for ya in her room. You want to shag her there?” Georgina said dryly.

“Funny.” Keith said with a fake laugh.

“Honestly, that’s what should happen.” Jamie said. “Either she stays with Keith or the couch.”

“She can’t have the couch.” Dave said quietly.

Georgina shot the boy a funny look. She had her reasons for not wanting this stranger to sleep on the couch but she didn’t know why David would.

He cleared his throat, “Keith fucked up. He should be the one to suffer.”

Georgina agreed with Dave’s statement but sensed he was hiding something.

“She knows Ash. She could stay with her.” Georgina suggested.

“Ash and Marco are staying together. I’d prefer to stay away from that.” Mar stated.

Georgina rolled her eyes making Jamie laugh.

“Is she paying for a room?” Dave asked nodding to Mar.

“Well — you see…” Keith started to say.

“You were doing so well, brother.” Jamie said patting Keith on the back. “But you fucked up major with this one.”

“So you are telling me you invited this woman without proper approval, decided sticking her in with me was the best option when she didn’t want to sleep with you, and you aren’t making her pay for any of it?” Georgina asked with an incredulous look on her face. “How fucking magical is that fanny of hers?”

Jamie and Dave tried their best to keep a straight face but the pure disgust in Georgina’s voice sent them into a fit of laughter.

“You’re a legend.” Dave said squeezing her shoulder.

“Thanks.” She smiled before focusing her attention back to Keith. “How are we going to fix this mess?”

“I don’t know. Jenna won’t share. I’m not interested in sharing. So either someone sleeps on the couch or you share.” Keith said trying to think of another way he could make up for his mistake.

“Ferg can stay with Niall. He’s got two beds in his room and I’m sure he won’t mind.” Dave suggested.

Georgina’s skin grew warm. Her eyes focused on Dave’s face but he wouldn’t look at her. She knew exactly what he was trying to do but didn’t know why.

“She’d strangle him in his sleep.” Keith laughed.

“Not true, they’ve been playing nice lately.” Dave said sticking up for his best friends.

“And honestly, if we want to keep the peace those two are our ticket.” Jamie said thinking about it logically.

“I don’t want to share with Ni.” Georgina sighed. “If I’m paying for my room, I shouldn’t have to share. He shouldn’t either.”

“If it’s an option, I’ll share with Niall.” Mar chirped happily.

Georgina felt a wave of anger wash over her. This was not happening. The woman who flew all the way across the ocean to sleep with her boyfriend did not just suggest sharing the same room with him. She needed to keep her cool but didn’t know how. Dave’s grip on her shoulder grew a little tighter. As much as she wanted to keep her eyes focused on the floor, she couldn’t.

When she looked up at Dave, he gave her a sympathetic look. He didn’t know they were together but he had a feeling they were something. His girlfriend may have told him not to meddle but he couldn’t help it. He’d damned if a random woman was going to come in and steal Georgina Ferguson’s thunder. He knew she needed this – now more than ever.

Dave pulled his eyes off of Georgina and placed them on the stranger across the room, “Yeah that’s not happening.”

“It’s either Ferg or no one, sorry.” Jamie said feigning sympathy.

“I think the group should decide if it’s okay for them to share.” Keith said softly. “Right?”

Georgina rolled her eyes. “So me sharing a room with Ni deserves a meeting but you inviting a stranger doesn’t. Sounds real fair.”

“Fergs, I—“ Keith started to say but the frustrated young woman cut him off.

“If I wanted to deal with dumb shit, I would have stayed home. This is why you’re never in charge of things, Keith.” Georgina grumbled before pulling away from Dave and leaving the kitchen.

She repacked her bags and placed them in the hallway before making her way outside. Jenna and the girls were sitting around a table looking out into the horizon. A quiet conversation about a trip to a winery was being held as Georgina plopped down in the empty seat beside Brittany.

“For fucks sake Georgina, we’ve only been here five minutes. Cheer up.” Mags teased noticing the young woman’s sour mood.

“I’m going back home.” Georgina replied annoyed.

“Hey, I was only joking.” Mags said realizing something serious was going on.

“What’s wrong?” Brittany asked.

“Don’t have a room.” Georgina mumbled as she noticed Mar heading their way.

“Yes you do. We made sure there was enough.” Jenna said confused. “I watched Keith book it.”

“Didn’t take into account that Keith’s a fucking idiot that does whatever the hell he wants.” Georgina mumbled.

“Okay Ferg, I know you like being mysterious and all but like what the hell are you on about?” Jenna asked worried by her friends mood.

“Ferg!” Mar called out for sliding into the last empty seat around the table.

“Who’s that?” Jenna whispered to Mags.

“Where’s Ash?” Georgina asked quietly.

“On the phone with her brother.” Mar said. “I hope you don’t mind me hanging around.”

Georgina didn’t get a chance to respond. A devilish smirk formed on the American woman’s face before two simple sentences escaped her lips.

“You know I totally don’t get why you don’t want to share a room with Niall. I mean, yeah, he might snore a bit too much when he’s drunk but you know that’s just Niall.” Mar stated.

Jenna looked over to Mags and Brittany trying to see if they were just as confused as she was. The woman didn’t look familiar but she acted like she was.

“How long have you girls known him?” Mar asked leaning back in her chair.

“Hi, um who are you again?” Jenna asked looking the woman up and down.

“Oi Mel! Err I mean Mar.” Dave called out walking towards the group of women with glasses of wine in his hands. “Ash is lookin for ya. Something about needing help with an outfit or something.”

“Probably a bikini question.” Mar smiled before getting up. “I’ll have to catch up with you girls later.”

“Great.” Georgina replied dryly as she watched the American walk away.

When Dave reached the table, Jenna eagerly grabbed a glass and took a long sip.

“Okay, what the fuck was that about?” Mags asked turning her attention towards Georgina.

“David, just bring us the bottle.” Brittany said taking one of the glasses from him. “We are going to need it.”

“Okay babe.” Dave said before heading back inside.

“She fucked Niall.” Georgina said slowly putting the pieces together. “Or at least that’s what she wants us to think. I don’t know.”

“That makes sense. I mean, how else would she know he snores when he’s drunk?” Brittany said.

“Yeah I guess that’s true.” Jenna asked.

“He’s grown up in the spotlight so I’m sure a lot of people feel like they know him.” Mags pointed out. “He was plastered on every form of media since he was sixteen. It’s hard to miss him.”

Georgina shook her head, “She seemed like she wanted it known that she knows him on a more personal level.”

“How personal can it really be? I’ve never seen her before and we’ve been friends with him for years.” Jenna said.

“So, who is she then?” Brittany asked.

“She works with Ash. Keith invited her thinking she’d be down to be his little vacation fling.” Georgina explained. “But he didn’t take into account that Ni was going to be here and she knows him somehow.”

“Why would Keith invite someone without checking with the group first?” Mags asked.

“Because he wanted to get laid.” Georgina sighed.

“Is she the reason you don’t have a room?” Brittany asked sounding annoyed.

“He thought I’d be fine with sharing with her.” Georgina said taking a hold of the glass Dave had set down. “Didn’t ask if it was okay. Just did it.”

“That’s bullshit.” Mags said before taking drink of her wineglass. “Absolute bullshit.”

“I know.” Georgina sighed before taking a drink.

“We’ll get it sorted.” Britt smiled weakly. “Don’t worry G.”

“But first, let’s see who this girl is.” Jenna said pulling out her phone.

The next few hours were spent scouring the internet for anything they could find on the dark-haired stranger. Georgina Ferguson was nearly 100% certain that at one point in time Mar slept with Niall. The others weren’t too sure. They had been around Niall long enough to know that his fame attracted the wrong type of women. Those type of women would do anything for their fifteen minutes of fame. Mar seemed the type.

Brittany wanted it to be a lie for her best friend’s benefit. She knew Georgina had some sort of feelings for the man she once hated. She was hoping that this trip to Greece would help push her realize that being with Niall was the right direction – much like their time in Aruba had started to do. She didn’t like the idea of some random woman coming in and trying to ruin that. She knew she needed to find a way to keep Mar away from Niall for Georgina’s sake.

Brittany just didn’t know how she was going to accomplish that.

When asked if he was sad tour was coming to an end, Niall Horan would nod and formulate the perfect soundbite about wanting to continue touring for the rest of the year to give all of his fans a chance to see him perform. His dedication would be commended and another person would sing their praise about what a great artist he was.

But deep down, he knew he was lying.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to cuddle on the couch with his dog. He wanted to go to the pub with his mates and act like an idiot. Most of all, he wanted to be with his girlfriend.

The past three weeks had been the toughest three weeks he’d experienced in his solo career. The shows weren’t grueling. The interviews weren’t demanding. He just missed Georgina that much. The moment they shared in London during the holidays hung heavy on his heart. She was in love with him. She was in love with a whiskey drinking foul mouthed workaholic who spent more time on the road than in his actual house and he couldn’t believe it. She was in love with someone who couldn’t give her a proper relationship. He could count on one hand the amount of times they saw each other while he was away. She deserved so much better.

If anyone close to him asked if he was ready for tour to end, he’d say yes. He was ready to sleep in until noon and golf whenever he pleased. He was ready to not have something scheduled every second of his day. He was ready to relax. In fact, he had been counting down the hours until that flight to Greece.

When he woke up that morning, he had received a series of texts from Georgina. She was nervous. She was nervous about leaving Scout, getting on the plane, and that they wouldn’t be able to keep their relationship a secret once they were with their friends.

He had to admit he was nervous too. He was nervous about seeing her again. He was nervous that things wouldn’t be the same. He was nervous that his time apart caused their spark to fizzle out. He was nervous for the trip because it was their first trip as a couple and he didn’t know what to expect. He knew that he was being ridiculous. He knew the moment saw her face all his worries would go away. He knew he just needed to get on that flight. At the end of it, s bottle of beer and a kiss from a pretty girl had his name written all over it.

It was half past seven when Niall landed in Mykonos. His connecting flight had been delayed. Niall attempted to call Georgina when he found out the news but when he reached for his phone it was dead. He knew she’d be annoyed with him but once he told her that he had drained the battery watching all the videos of her and Scout he had saved on his phone, he figured he’d be met with heart eyes instead of one’s filled with anger.

By the time he got to the house, his nerves had completely disappeared. He was ready to relax for the next two weeks with some of closest friends. When he walked inside, he was met by the smell of David’s infamous fajitas and an old Bruce Springsteen track. He dropped his luggage by the door and headed for the kitchen.

“Nialler!” Jamie cheered from the stove top as he noticed the Irishman from across the room. He was making a pot of Spanish rice.

“Aren’t makin’ that too spicy, are ya Jim Jam?” Niall asked walking over to give his friend a hug.

“Fuck your reflux.” Jamie rolled his eyes dramatically. Niall laughed as his friend continued to speak, “Fergs already made ya some bland boring ass rice.”

Niall didn’t get a chance to respond. A damp kitchen towel whipped across the back of his neck. The Irishman turned around cautiously. Standing with a beer in hand was his best friend. Niall’s smile grew in size as the tall Brit pulled him into a hug. Dave handed over a drink before leaning against the fridge.

“Thanks for checking in you twat.” Dave said dryly.

“Me phone died.” Niall said pulling his keys out to open his beer.

David leaned in close, “There’s trouble in the Hen House.”

Niall’s brow furrowed, “What happened?”

Before Dave got the chance to explain, someone interrupted. A hand patted Dave’s stomach as they tried to get into the fridge but he couldn’t move. The kitchen was too small.

“Davey, get me a beer please.” Georgina said softly.

The sound of her voice sent shock waves through his body. Niall couldn’t believe it. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. He didn’t think it was possible but the smile on his face grew even bigger. He turned around to find irritation chiseled into the features of his girlfriend.

“Hey Ferg!” Niall said sweetly.

Georgina faked a smile as she grabbed the bottle of beer from Dave’s hand. She took a quick swig before looking between the boys.

“Did Davey tell you that Keith brought ya a toy to play with?” Georgina asked with a hint of disgust in her voice.

Niall looked up at David completely confused. When he turned to ask Georgina what she meant, she wasn’t there. She was making her way for the backyard. Without a second thought, he chased after her.

Georgina stopped a few feet from the door and waited for him.

“Babe, what’s going on?” He asked keeping his voice low.

She sighed, “Well—“

An ear-piercing shriek sounded from across the yard catching the couple’s attention. Ashlee was sitting on a pool lounger with another woman. Her face looked familiar. He had seen her around but he couldn’t quite place it.

“Oh my god, Ni!” The woman squealed, popping up from her spot. “You’re finally here.”

Their eyes locked. He knew exactly who she was. Marlene. Niall’s body stiffened as she made her way around the pool towards him.

“Fuck.” He sighed. He placed his hands on his hips and turned towards Georgina.

The young blonde just shook her head. Her face had said everything. She was upset.

“Ferg.” He whispered.

“I’m gonna go get ready for dinner.” Georgina mumbled. She watched Mar grow near. She nodded over to the dark haired woman. “Have fun with that.”

“Babe.” Niall said reaching out to keep his girlfriend from leaving but she had already slipped past him.

“Niall!” Mar said with an irreplaceable grin. “How have you been?”

“Hey Mar.” He replied with a clenched jaw.

Mar rubbed up against before forcing him into her embrace. “It’s been ages. Congrats on the solo stuff.”

“Thanks.” Niall laughed nervously as he patted her on the back.

Mar’s arms lingered on his body as he tried to pull away. Her touch was aggressive and deliberate. He didn’t like it. Once he was released from her grip, Niall stepped away putting some space in between them. She ruffled her hair before adjusting her dress.

“When Keith first asked me to come, I was a bit hesitant.” Mar said looking up at him. Her index finger poked his stomach playfully. “But then I found you’d be here and I just had to come.”

“Oh yeah?” Niall said pressing his beer bottle to his lips. “How do you know Keith?”

“Same way I know you.” She winked.

A shiver ran down his spine. The thought of him sleeping with the same woman as Keith made him cringe. He took long sip of his drink trying to find a way out of his conversation.  

“I didn’t know that you knew Ashlee and Marco too.” She said ruffling her hair once more. “They don’t mention you that much.”

“We’ve been friends for a few years now.” Niall said with a polite smile.

“Ash and I work together. That’s how I met Keith.” Mar explained. “But enough about me, let’s talk about you. How are Harry and the boys? Still keep in touch with them?”

Niall nodded, “They are all doing good. Just uh enjoying life and being solo. Nothing really new.”

“Good, good.” Mar said. “Hey quick question, is that uh Fergie girl a bit you know — not all there?”

Niall looked surprised. “What? Why?”

“Well Keith said she and I were sharing a room and I had to like explain it to her a couple times.” Mar laughed. “And she hasn’t talked much since she’s been here.”

Niall just nodded. Georgina’s mood was slowly starting to make sense. He didn’t quite understand what Mar’s comment meant but he knew David would. He needed to find him.

“She’s probably just still in work mode.” Niall replied before clearing his throat. “Mar, it’s been great seeing you but I promised Dave I’d help him season his meat. I’ll see you later.”

“Oh okay.” Mar smiled. “I’ll see you in there then.”

When Niall stepped back inside, he headed straight for the kitchen. He needed answers. The man he came to see was standing in front of the stove with a towel draped across his shoulder. He was tending to a large pan that was filled with sizzling peppers and onions.

Niall leaned against the counter. He finished off his beer in two long gulps. He set the bottle on the counter before crossing his arms over his chest.

“Am I living in a fucking alternate universe, Watson?” Niall asked.

“Tried to warn ya, Sherlock.” Dave laughed.

“Fuck, dude.” Niall sighed.

“I know.” Dave said glancing at him. “It sucks but it’s gonna be okay.”

“Fergie’s pissed.” Niall said running a hand through his hair.

“They all are.” Dave said stirring the vegetables in his pan. “But it’s not at you, it’s more at Keith and Mar.”

“No. Fergie’s mad at me. I saw it on her face.” Niall sighed.

“Well, can you see why she’d be a bit upset?” Dave asked focusing on his food. “I mean Mar’s been running her mouth about ya since she got here.”

Niall’s eye shut tight as a sigh escaped from deep within. He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Really?”

“Something along the lines of braggin’ about sleepin’ with ya.” Dave replied.

“Shit.” Niall groaned.

“It’s going to be okay. I was around during the Marcus days. I know how to fix it.” Dave said calmly. “When she found out the rumors were true, she had a complete meltdown. Tried to change everything about herself to compete with the other women.”

“Is that why she’s in this mood? Because she thinks she has to compete with Mar.” Niall said lowly.

“Don’t know mate but what I do know is that you just need to remind her that you are interested in her and only her.” Dave said.

“You think so?” Niall asked.

Dave nodded, “Women need reassurance sometimes.”

“Okay.” Niall mumbled dryly. “Should be easy enough except for the fact she won’t talk to me.”

“That won’t last long.” Dave laughed as he turned off the burner. “Hand me that dish.”

Niall handed him an empty bowl, “Why’s that?”

“You two are sharing a room.” Dave smirked as he drained the contents of the pan into the bowl.

“What!” The Irishman said in disbelief.

“You’re welcome.” Dave winked as he started to cut up the meat he had grilled.

“How’d that work out?” Niall asked.

“Keith gave her room away so I figured if anyone is gonna share it should be the two of you.” Dave shrugged.

Niall just nodded. He figured that Keith’s decision played a tiny part in Georgina’s mood. Sharing a room was sure to remedy that real quick. He started to think of a way to fix things.

“Look Ni, I don’t know what’s going on between ya but you both are actually happy and I’m happy to see it.” Dave said with a genuine smile. “If you ever need me to sub in and help out, I’m game.”

“I appreciate it brother.” Niall smiled as he patted David on the back.

“Now since you were late, you have dish duty when we are finished.” Dave said as Niall opened the fridge.

“That’s just fine with me.” He said grabbing two bottles of beer.

Dinner came and went. The entire meal was spent planning out the next day’s activities. After much debate, they decided on sightseeing. An old church was brought up as well as a few sites that held ancient ruins. Niall didn’t care what they did. He was too busy trying to think of a way to get his girlfriend to talk to him. He cracked a few jokes, addressed her directly, and even took to staring at her for five minutes straight but she never gave in. Georgina Ferguson was one stubborn woman. He knew he was in for a hell of a night.

After they ate, Niall washed the dishes while the rest of the group retreated to different parts of the house. A few people headed out to the pool. A couple others popped in a film. A certain woman headed straight to bed. Once the dishes were dried, he knew exactly where he needed to be.

When he got to their room, it was quiet. He closed the door behind him mentally rehearsing the apology he had planned. But once he saw her, his mind went blank. He found her in the bathroom drying her hair. He leaned against the door frame waiting for her to finish.

He had missed this. He had missed watching her get ready for work in the morning. He missed making dinner for her when she got home. He missed lounging on the couch as they caught up on the tv shows she liked to watch.

He missed just being with her.

The dryer turned off snapping him out of his dream. A faint smile formed on Niall’s face as he watched her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked sad.

“What’s wrong?” He asked gently.

Georgina spun around quickly. Her eyes grew colder as a frown formed across her lips. “You fucked her.”

Niall sighed. “Babe—“

She pressed her index finger into his chest. “You fucked her. All the others kept saying she was lying and that it wasn’t true but I could tell. I could tell because she had that little twinkle in her eye.”

“Baby.” He said stepping towards her.

“And Brittany has told me about all the other women you’ve been with and they all look like her and none of them look like me.” She rambled nervously. “Is that what you like? Is that what turns you on? Because if so, I don’t know why we are still together.”

Niall reached out and cupped her face with his hands. “Georgina, breathe.”

She attempted to continue her anxious ramble but he stopped her. His thumb stroked her cheek as he looked deep into her eyes.

“I love you. I want to be with you. I don’t want or need anybody else.” He said calmly. “I want you.”

“But she—“ Georgina mumbled.

“Fuck what she said.” Niall said annoyed. “I slept with her one time when I was drunk and I’ve regretted it to this day.”

“Harry’s friend invited us to this party in Malibu. I didn’t want to go so I invited Davey to come along and we got absolutely obliterated.” He explained. “I woke up the next morning in some random girl’s bed. I felt horrible for it. I’m not that person.”

Georgina placed her hands on her hips. “Okay.”

Niall removed his hands and placed them on top of hers. “Don’t sound too convinced there Ferguson.”

“She just made it seem like you had some raunchy sexual relationship.” Georgina explained.

“That’s just how she is.” Niall sighed. “I asked her how she knew Keith and you know what she said?”

She shook her head.

“She said verbatim,” he said before putting on an American accent, “Same way I know you.”

Georgina cringed. “Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew.”

He rubbed her hips with his thumbs. “Exactly.”

“I don’t want to picture them having sex.” She said closing her eyes making him laugh.

“See, Baby? That’s just her. She is all about shock value.” He smiled. “You— you have nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah I do.” She said quietly.

“What do you have to worry about Georgina?” He asked pulling her towards him.

She opened her eyes as tears began to form. “I can’t hold your hand in public. I can’t sit on your lap when I’m tired or too drunk. I can’t tell my best friends that I’m having the best sex I’ve ever had in me entire life and that I’ve actually had an orgasm.”

“Best sex you ever had?” He asked surprised.

The blonde haired woman nodded with a shy smile.

Niall looked impressed with himself. “I’ll take that.”

“Here she is running around telling everyone how she’s slept with the Niall Horan and I’ve just got to sit tight and bare it.” She said. “It’s just too much.”

“Baby, I promise we will tell them soon.” Niall said softly. “I just need more time.”

“But for what though?” She asked — sounding hurt. “How much more time do you need?”

“It’s just—“ He said before letting out a frustrated groan. “If we tell one person then eventually the entire world will find out and I’m not ready for that. We’re not ready for that. Everything will change.”

“Our friends wouldn’t do that to us.” Georgina said.

“Most of them wouldn’t.” Niall corrected.

“Fucking Keith.” She rolled her eyes.

“I just — I know what will happen if the public finds out. I’ve seen Tommo go through it. I’ve seen Liam go through it.” He said softly. He rested his forehead against hers, “I just need to protect you. For a little bit longer.”

“Fine.” She sighed dramatically.

“You’re a pain in the ass.” He mumbled playfully.

“Says the man who let his phone die when he’s traveling to another country.” She mumbled back.

“I’m sorry!” He said lifting his head back. “It was a good reason for it to die.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Georgina asked with a bit of sass.

“I was too busy watching videos of me girls because I’ve missed them too fucking much.” He said in a matter of fact tone.

Her skin grew warm as a smile formed. “You missed me?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He sighed.

“I know.” She said draping her arms over his shoulders.

“How do you know?” He asked confused.

“Gerry texted me.” She explained. “He originally asked me if I could send Scoutie girl to you because he knew you were sad. But I told him I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to send pets through the post.”

Niall laughed. “He’s such an idiot.”

“Wait, it gets better. Then he asked if I’d send ya a pic of my tits because he knew that would cheer you up.” She smirked. “Pretty sure he just wanted to see my tits.”

“That’s our Gerry.” Niall shook his head. “I should’ve known better than to give him your number. He said he had a legal question.”

“He just cares about ya.” Georgina smiled. “Gotta look out for the boss man.”

Niall tried to fight the blush from forming but he couldn’t. It was refreshing to know how many people genuinely cared about his well being. After nearly a decade of chaos, he was finally in a good place. A good portion of that was due to the woman standing in front of him.

“I love you.” She whispered making his heart skip a beat. “A lot. And I’m sorry for being mean.”

“It’s understandable. I mean when I saw Marcus, I didn’t handle it too well.” He said.

“I was two seconds away from going McGregor on her.” Georgina admitted.

Niall laughed, “Why’s that?”

Georgina looked annoyed, “She kept going on about how ‘Slow Hands’ is about her!”

This made the young man laugh even harder. “No way in hell it’s about her. It’s about you.”

“How is it about me? We never–” She said not understanding what he meant.

“Do you know how many times I’ve pictured that scenario? Then last year when you made the joke I laughed it off but I can’t lie deep down I wished it would have happened.” He admitted.

“Well it almost did.” She blushed remembering that night in Aruba.

Niall pressed his hips against hers. He brought his hands up to face once more.

“I’m gonna kiss you now, okay? It’s been the only thing I’ve wanted to do since I got off the plane.” He whispered.

Without another word, the couple’s lips connected and every ounce of anxiety left the room. They were finally back together and it felt so good.

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine fic - “Need for Speed” (Rated NC17)

Kurt Hummel moves from California to Lima after his dad’s heart attack causes them to lose their repair shop. Kurt leaves his prestigious performing arts school and any chance of moving to New York and getting into NYADA. His only other joy in life is custom tuning cars, but his father doesn’t approve. Things seem to get back on track when he joins the Dalton Crew as their mechanic, behind his father’s back. He’ll make the money he needs as long as he can put up with the unwanted attention of Sebastian Smythe. But, how will his dreams change after he meets the head of the McKinley Crew, Blaine Anderson, who decides that winning Kurt Hummel will be his next big challenge?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 (3205 words)

Kurt did the oil change on the Corolla alone, demanding that his dad sit down behind the counter and rest. It was a good enough excuse to get time to himself to contemplate Blaine’s motives. Kurt couldn't stop thinking about Blaine kissing his hand. He had never been properly kissed by another boy in his life, and now he began to imagine what those soft, full lips might feel like pressed against his own, or possibly on other places over his body. Kurt hustled to finish, concentrating on his work to settle his body and keep it from responding to the thought of Blaine’s kisses. He vacuumed the carpets, cleaned the windows, and checked the air pressure on the tires. Burt looked quizzically at his son, lured by the flurry of activity after Kurt’s sluggish morning and examined Kurt's work.

Kurt looked up at the smirk on his father's face and grimaced. He hated being so transparent.

"There's nothing wrong with going the extra mile," Kurt answered without being asked. "We need repeat customers."

"I didn't say anything," Burt said, stepping back with his hands in the air. "I appreciate your dedication. Just one thing?"

"What, dad?" Kurt groaned. "I'm kind of busy."

"Is he gay?"

Kurt stood up quickly and smacked his head on the steering wheel. He put a hand to the sore back of his head and turned to see his dad laughing silently. Kurt couldn't help but let a smile slip.

"Yes, he's gay,” Kurt answered, “but that has nothing to do with providing excellent customer service."

"Sure, kiddo," Burt said, making his way back to the counter and leaving Kurt to finish his work, "whatever you say."

 ***

Blaine came back exactly an hour later, and from the moment he stepped through the bay doors Kurt felt his heart race inside his chest. Kurt expected Blaine to make a bee line for him, but he didn't. He glanced Kurt's way with a polite smile, and then headed straight for Burt sitting behind the counter. Kurt watched as Blaine and Burt talked. His father wasn’t one to open up to people right away, but soon they were talking back and forth with smiles on their faces, lost in conversation. At one point, Blaine said something that had Burt throwing his head back with laughter, shaking his head from side to side.

Kurt felt so conflicted it was maddening. He didn't know if he was more annoyed that Blaine seemed to be paying no attention to him after pursuing him so ardently, or that Blaine had gotten his father to laugh that carefree, full body laugh that Kurt hadn't seen in years. Kurt stared hard, waiting for some sort of acknowledgement, but Blaine and Burt didn't seem too eager to end their conversation, and they definitely didn't seem too concerned with Kurt, so Kurt walked to where Mark was struggling with a radiator flush and decided to offer some assistance.

As was the way of things around the shop, Mark eventually left Kurt to finish up the radiator service alone, and wandered off to the back to inventory some plugs. Kurt let his mind drift as he went through the motions of siphoning out the fluid and draining the reservoir, all the while running lyrics for his NYADA audition piece through his head. He was stuck between choosing a Whitney Houston song, or something a little more Broadway like “I’m the Greatest Star” from Funny Girl, but his thoughts kept returning to the boy in the leather jacket a mere twenty feet away, who had apparently made Burt Hummel his new best friend.

Kurt sighed. This hyper-infatuation he had with Blaine had to stop. He had only met him last night and already Blaine had slipped seamlessly into his daydreams.

Kurt dreamt about his audition for NYADA, and there Blaine was, sitting in the audience, watching him, eyes blown wide with awe and adoration. Kurt imagined he was leaving school after a hard day in dance class, and there was Blaine showing up in his leather jacket to walk him home. Kurt fantasized that he was in his tiny shoebox apartment, taking an early morning shower and preparing for the day, when along came Blaine, climbing in behind him, gloriously naked, sucking on his neck, his soapy hands wandering down along his sides, light fingertips making trails through the suds...

A hand tapped Kurt gently on the shoulder.

"Cheesus!" Kurt screeched as he jumped like a bolt and tossed the empty plastic container of radiator flush straight into the air, sending it vaulting over the Celica he was working on and slamming into the office window. From behind him, Kurt heard Burt roar with laughter. Kurt turned slowly, small droplets of bluish liquid clinging to his hair, his cheeks so red they almost pulsated. Blaine stood a short distance away, biting his lips curled over his teeth to stifle a grin.

"I am so sorry I startled you, Kurt," Blaine said when he finally dared to speak. "I thought for sure you heard me coming up behind you."

"No," Kurt said, nonchalantly brushing damp locks from his face, ignoring the rivulets of fluid flowing down from his brow, trying to sound nonplussed by it all. "No, I didn't hear you. Was there something you needed?"

"Yes, actually…" Blaine closed the distance between them so he could whisper in Kurt's ear. "I wanted to know if you would be at the race tonight?"

"Most likely," Kurt replied, his voice breathy as the stubble on Blaine's cheek tickled his neck, sending tiny jolts racing everywhere they touched. “I do have a job to do, you know.”

"Great," Blaine said, pulling away with a smile.

Blaine turned and walked away, climbing into the Corolla with a final wave to Burt, which the older man enthusiastically returned. Kurt followed Blaine with his eyes as he drove off, the back of his hand tingling where it longed to be kissed.

 ***

The races were held in the same business park as the night before. Kurt figured this was probably where they were always held. The area was open to eight lanes of traffic, deserted, and there didn’t seem to be any police presence this time of night. That didn’t necessarily mean the cops didn’t know about the races, but with this amount of kids driving cars that could easily break 100 miles per hour in nearly nothing flat, they probably couldn’t be bothered. The Lima P. D. most likely didn’t have a single car that could keep up with the likes of Kurt’s Eclipse, not to mention Sebastian’s GT-R, so it wouldn’t be worth their trouble. They’d let the kids do their thing, and then come out to handle the situation if there was a major fight…or if someone died.

When Kurt arrived, he didn't see Blaine anywhere. Sebastian wasted no time monopolizing Kurt, swearing up and down that his GT-R was making a pinging noise he had never heard before. Kurt knew it was just another excuse by Sebastian to have Kurt bent over his engine, but with a beauty like Bas's GT-R, Kurt couldn't really say that he minded.

Kurt employed every trick in his arsenal to block Sebastian's presence from his mind while he futilely chased a mysterious ailment that Kurt knew didn't exist. Sebastian leaned in close, watching Kurt work.

"Do you always sing while you work?" Sebastian asked. Kurt stopped immediately. He didn't realize he had been singing. He usually didn’t sing in public unless he was competing, but he found himself slipping up more and more as he thought about his upcoming audition.

"Not always," Kurt said, standing upright and dismissing the subject. "I'm going to check your NOS canister. This line doesn't look quite right."

Kurt walked around to the car door and let himself inside.

'Oh God, those seats do smell fantastic,' Kurt thought. Suddenly he remembered the leather seats in Blaine's Mustang, how cool and smooth they felt beneath his hands, and that smell...that had to have been Blaine's smell. Just thinking about it...

"Because it's really fantastic."

Kurt swallowed suddenly, choking a little. He turned to look at Sebastian's face.

"Wait...what?"

"Your voice," Sebastian clarified. "I said it was really fantastic. Why don't you consider attending Dalton? We have an excellent a cappella choir. The Warblers. We're kind of like rock stars. And we could sure use a voice like yours."

"Really?" Kurt stood up and looked boldly into Sebastian's green eyes. "Are you really interested in my voice, or do you just have some weird fantasy that involves a prep school uniform?"

Sebastian bit his lower lip and shook his head.

Kurt returned to the NOS canister and reconnected the line.

"You might not want to keep pulling on that," Kurt said, and Sebastian's face went blank. Kurt snickered.

'Jesus Christ,' Kurt thought. 'Cars and sex, that's all these guys think about.'

That's when he spotted Blaine. He smiled subconsciously until he saw Blaine’s arms wrapped around the waist of some other man Kurt hadn't seen before. They were hugging and laughing, lost in their own world amidst the mob of drivers and spectators. The man in Blaine’s arms was older, taller, and had an amazing head of tawny-colored hair. Kurt held his breath, waiting for them to break apart. He became light-headed, blowing the held breath out forcefully, and yet the two still stayed linked in each other's arms.

Kurt felt a warm breath tickle his neck as the familiar smell of CK wafted around him.

"Ouch," Sebastian said with a chuckle, following Kurt's eye line and seeing the couple embrace one more time before the tall man bent down and pressed his lips to Blaine's cheek.

Kurt cursed to himself, his eyes going misty for a moment. He turned quickly and jogged off down the line of cars just as Blaine turned his eyes, following Kurt's form as he stormed away. Kurt grabbed Monster's elbow with his slender hand, eyes firmly downcast.

"Come on, Monster," Kurt barked, pulling the giant along with him to his Charger. "Let's go see how you managed to fuck up your plugs this time."

 ***

Sometimes Kurt wished he had a vice other than cars. He always admired the drama of a spurned character finding solace at some seedy bar where they could smoke or drink their troubles away. But he had nothing. Well, he had Bokwa and the occasional shot of wheat grass, but he wasn't sure those qualified as vices. For five races he had avoided Blaine. Every time Blaine even looked as if he might come over to talk to Kurt, Kurt found someplace else he had to be. The first time, he jetted off to the porta potty, even though Kurt Hummel would never be caught dead using a porta potty. The second time, he had ducked down behind Monster's Charger, garnering a strange look from the massive boy. The third time, he had actually resorted to hopping into Jeff's 300ZX when Jeff decided to stretch his car's legs, risking the passive aggressive distaste of Nick Duval, and they shot off down the road and around the block for about 20 minutes.

But Blaine was becoming hard to avoid.

Kurt was trapped between his car and Wes’s when he saw Blaine look his way, his body language projecting his intention to go over and approach him.

"I have to run back to the shop," Kurt declared when Blaine's eyes lock with his. "I'll be back in 30." As Blaine headed his way, Kurt hopped nimbly into his Eclipse through the open window and fired up the engine. Blaine saw the move, turned tail, and rushed to his Mustang. He leapt into the driver’s seat, turned the key in the ignition, and threw the car into gear, all in one smooth move. He watched Kurt’s car blow by him, and shot out onto the main drag after him.

Kurt heard the Mustang before he saw it, even over the rumble of the next race about to start. Kurt's Eclipse glided swiftly over the asphalt as he veered down a street that he thought he recognized, feeling for certain it would take him back home. After a couple of miles, the street lamps disappeared, and the only lights around were the headlights of the two cars and the glow of the full moon overhead. After a long while of driving, longer than Kurt anticipated, he noticed that Blaine was no longer trying to keep up, and he breathed a sigh of relief. That relief was short lived when Kurt peered into the darkness, seeing further down the road, and realized why. Without a chance to change direction, Kurt drove into an alley between two buildings, with another building only a mile or so ahead.

"Shit shit shit!" Kurt muttered angrily to himself as he threw his car quickly into reverse. Kurt looked into his rearview mirror to see Blaine's car parked behind his, blocking Kurt's only exit. Blaine had already gotten out and was coming his way. Kurt had no room to open his car door, so he climbed out of the window again and shimmied along the space between his car and the wall. Blaine walked toward him. Needing the upper hand, Kurt rushed forward to confront him.

"Why the hell are you following me?" Kurt growled.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Blaine countered.

"I thought you said you weren't playing me!"

"I'm not!" Blaine's incredulous expression angered Kurt.

"Oh, really?" Kurt shot back. "Then who's the guy with the white man's perm you were hanging all over?"

Blaine's eyes shifted as he thought, and then he laughed.

"You mean Jeremiah?" Blaine asked with a chuckle.

"How the hell should I know," Kurt groused.

Blaine shook his head, smiling.

"No, he's just a friend," Blaine explained, walking closer to Kurt. Kurt backed away at his approach. "He just got into Stanford. He's moving to California with his boyfriend."

California...with his boyfriend...Kurt was incredibly jealous.

Then he came to his senses, and he was mortified.

He had just laid all his cards out on the table. Now Blaine would know...

"Wait, wait, wait," Blaine said. Kurt didn't realize they had still been walking until the back of his knees hit the rear bumper of his car, and he was trapped...again.

Kurt was beginning to sense a pattern.

"No, I wasn't," Kurt said, anticipating the words before they left Blaine's mouth.

Blaine smiled.

"Whatever you're thinking right now, it's completely untrue," Kurt persisted.

Blaine leaned in close while Kurt leaned away, but there was nowhere left for Kurt to go.

"Kurt," Blaine whispered, his voice low and sinful, "do I detect a little bit of jealousy?"

"No," Kurt said quickly. 'No, you detect a LOT of jealousy.'

"I mean, what...what do I have to be jealous of?" Kurt eyed Blaine darkly as Blaine moved in on him, pursing his lips and blowing a cool breath of air over the column of Kurt's neck. Goosebumps spread like wildfire over the expanse of Kurt's skin, delighting Blaine to no end.

"That's right," Blaine said as he moved down Kurt's neck, inhaling as he went, searching out that elusive scent of vanilla. "What do you have to worry about?"

"I..." Kurt stammered nervously and he hated himself for it. "I'm worried that I'm mistaking flattery for affection."

Blaine stopped and looked up into Kurt's face. Kurt's eyes were closed, but his expression was almost frightened.

"I...I'm worried because I've never had a boyfriend," Kurt continued, his voice sounding broken as he spoke. "I'm worried because I've never been kissed...at least, not one that counted. I'm worried because I'm not sure I know what this is, and I don't know why a guy like you would like me when you could probably pick anyone you wanted, male or female, and at home in California, the general consensus was that I had all the sexual appeal of a baby penguin."

Blaine would have laughed if Kurt didn't look so undone. Blaine leaned away, gripping Kurt's elbow and pulling him back upright.

Blaine breathed out slowly. He was right. Kurt was going to be a challenge, but the challenge had changed.

The new challenge was to not break Kurt's heart.

And Blaine never turned his back on a challenge.

"Kurt," Blaine said, his voice soothing. "Kurt, please look at me."

Kurt blinked and opened his eyes, looking into Blaine's face.

"Kurt, I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to get to know you," Blaine said, rubbing his thumb over Kurt's arm. "And for what it's worth, I think you have much more appeal than a baby penguin."

Blaine left out the word sexual. He didn't want Kurt to get the wrong impression.

"And whatever this is," Blaine said, gesturing between the two of them, "I'm willing to wait for it to happen."

Blaine ran his hand down Kurt's arm, taking Kurt's hand in his. He raised it to his eye level. He took a moment to look at the smooth, pale skin, covered with a light smudge of grease. Blaine pulled a handkerchief purposefully from his pocket. Kurt took a second to be impressed because he didn't know anyone who carried a handkerchief anymore. Blaine wiped at the spot on Kurt's hand with the handkerchief, staining the white fabric black, but Blaine didn't seem at all concerned. When Kurt's skin was cleaned to Blaine's satisfaction, he stuffed the cloth back into his pocket. Then he raised Kurt's hand to his lips and kissed it.

"I'm willing to wait for you," Blaine whispered against Kurt's skin.

Blaine saw an almost pained look cloud Kurt's blue eyes. Blaine carefully dropped Kurt’s hand and pulled his body into the circle of his arms, winding them around Kurt’s frame and rubbing his back in soothing circles. Kurt broke a little, wrapping his arms around Blaine and holding him tight.

There they stood, bathed in moonlight, trapped between their cars, the low hum of racers in the distance a gentle lullaby in the humid air.

Blaine could feel Kurt all around him, and even though Kurt was slightly taller, they fit together like the pieces of an abstract puzzle. Blaine smiled, perching his chin on Kurt's shoulder. This felt so comfortable.

It felt so right.

The insistent vibrating of Kurt's iPhone brought Kurt back from the comfort of Blaine's embrace.

"I have to get that," Kurt apologized. "It might be my dad."

Blaine nodded. Kurt pulled his phone from his pocket and read the text.

"It's Wes." Kurt squinted at the bright light of the screen. "He says they're packing it in early." Kurt pocketed his phone and looked back at Blaine. "I guess I'd better head home."

"May I drive with you?" Blaine offered. "Make sure you get home safe and all."

"You don't have to," Kurt said, hoping that Blaine would insist.

"I don't have anywhere better to be." Blaine looked deep into Kurt’s eyes, letting the sincerity of his words shine through. "In fact, there's no place else I want to be."

And with those few words, Blaine had done the impossible. He had taken Kurt's breath away.

[benevolentsam]

prompt: Michael ends up possessing dean

Hello! Thank you for the prompt, sorry it took so long but this one kinda got away from me, aha! Hope you enjoy it anyway Warning: Major Character Death

With Zachariah dead, Dean knew it was only a few minutes before Michael would retaliate. He looked across at both his brothers lying on the floor; Adam was mostly okay, but there was blood coming from Sam’s mouth and he was struggling to breathe. He gave Adam a look of apology before rushing to pick Sammy up. There was no way he was going to leave Sam there for Michael to take, God knows what Michael would do to get him to say yes to Lucifer. He could go back for Adam, he could, but Sammy needed out right then.

Only as soon as he stepped foot outside the room, Sam on his shoulders, he felt it. Michael’s presence. 

The room was bathed in light, brighter than anything Dean had ever seen before. It was pure beauty, but all he could feel was a twisting pain in his stomach. The door had locked behind them. Adam was still in there. Dean dropped his brother and tried all he could to open the door. It wasn’t enough, he was no match for an angel. He sighed, he only had one tool left in his arsenal. “No no don’t you dare!” Dean yelled, banging on the door. Sam gave a weak yell of protest, knowing what Dean was about to do. Ge loved Sam, he did, but he couldn’t sell out Adam like that. “Take me instead! Michael I will kick your feathery ass back to Heaven don’t take him, take me!” His screams could barely be heard over the sound of Michael’s voice but he wouldn’t give up, he couldn’t.

Everything went eerily quite. And then the light disappeared, along with Dean.

Adam crawled out of the room, nails digging into the ground to drag himself along. Sam watched the pain on his face, and God he wished he could erase it. The kid didn’t deserve the hurt, the heartbreak, the hunt. This wasn’t his fight. Sam sighed, he couldn’t hold himself up, not with how his insides felt like fire, but he could hold up his little brother.

“What the Hell just happened?” Adam coughed. He pushed himself to stand, and though Sam could tell it was a struggle for him, Adam was certainly doing better than he was. 

“Dean sacrificed himself for you,” Sam said. There was a hint of bitterness, of how could Dean give up just like that? But he remembered the year Dean was in Hell and how he would have done anything to get him back. Dean doing this for Adam wasn’t surprising.

“What does that mean?” Adam asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“It means you’re family, kiddo.”

Sam remembered Bobby once saying that to him, back when they were kids. He’d been hurt by some teenager that Dean had pissed off, Bobby scared them off with a shotgun, and when Sam asked why he did it, he replied with that. The thought of bobby pulled him back into the real world. He didn’t want to do anything without Dean by his side, but realistically their best chance of survival was regrouping in Bobby’s library. Sam dared to take his hand off of his stomach; big mistake. Pain howled through him, and all Sam could do was silently scream. 

Adam was stood staring at him, seemingly worried. Sam gave him a dry smile.

“Look, can you drive?” He asked. Adam nodded, he hurried to the door of the Impala nodding all the way.

“Yeah, where’s the nearest hospital?” Sam limped towards the car, just barely managing to drop into the passenger seat without throwing up. Adam gave him an expectant look.

“Not to the hospital. To Bobby’s.”

When Sam turned up on Bobby’s doorstep, still hurt and with Adam in tow, Bobby had questions. He didn’t ask anything though, not until Sam was settled on the couch in the library and everyone had a glass of whiskey. God knows they needed it.

“So what happened?” Bobby broke the silence in the room bluntly, and both Sam and Adam winced.

“Michael took Dean instead of me,” Adam answered. His eyes were trained to the floor, and Sam recognised the guilt in him. The tense line of his shoulders, how downcast his eyes were, it was clear. Just how Sam felt when Dean sold his soul. Bobby made a sound of surprise.

“You should feel lucky, boy,” Bobby shrugged. “Dean don’t sacrifice himself for just anyone.” He does Sam thought, Dean was just that kind of person. The unsung hero of everything.

“Don’t need to remind me,” Adam bit out miserably. He downed the glass of whiskey in one and poured himself another. Sam hadn’t even touched his. The idea of anything entering his stomach made him feel sick. Everything made him feel sick.

“And where’s your angel?” Bobby questioned. That one no one could answer. Cas had also sacrificed himself, and Sam had no idea where to begin looking for him. He was weak anyway, Heaven had been halving his powers each day that went by. Sam had to swallow down the bile in the back of his throat.

“I don’t know, he’s not coming when I pray to him. I think he’s really hurt, Bobby,” Sam did all he could to stop his eyes from watering, to distract himself from it all. Bobby let out a sigh and rolled his chair to his desk.

“Dean, Cas, anyone else gonna go?”

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room as they all came to term with what was happening. Bobby had lost two of his sons, and from the looks of Sam he could lose another before the night was out. Adam felt the guilt of know Dean sacrificed himself for him. And Sam - Sam was at a loss. It was almost as if a limb had been cut off without Dean by his side. He found the courage to down his drink, despite the fire it sent down his throat. 

Adam was the first one to speak, though his face was pale and his voice trembled.

“What do we do about Michael and Lucifer?” And God the kid was already offering himself up to the fight. The apocalypse wasn’t any of his business, wasn’t his to deal with, he just happened to be caught in the crossfire. Sam choked back a sob.

“Well my plan went out the window,” Sam half laughed. It wasn’t funny, none of it was funny, but Sam couldn’t stop himself. “I thought maybe if I let Lucifer possess me-”

“Sam, no.” Bobby interrupted him, but Sam carried one.

“Hear me out,” Sam rolled his eyes. “If I let Lucifer possess me, then I could somehow regain control and let Lucifer destroy himself.”

“Sam, no!” Bobby yelled, like Sam was a child.

“Any plan that has the word somehow in, isn’t a good plan, Sam,” Adam interjected. Sam glared at them both.

“Well it’s not going to happen now is it!” Sam snapped. “I can’t sit back and let Lucifer hurt Dean. I can’t, Bobby.” Sam broke down, sobs racking through his body. No one made the move to comfort him, Adam stared on worried but unsure what to do. Bobby just shook his head, suggesting it was better to leave it.

“Well, we’ll have to keep thinking then,” Bobby announced. He flipped open a tome, hoping to magically find some semblance of an answer there. He gave Adam a pointed look. “You on board, Kiddo?”

You better not hurt Sam, I swear to God. Dean couldn’t really change his volume or tone, but he hoped that he sounded threatening enough. Michael chuckled, he sounded like a villain from a kids cartoon.

“Dean, Dean, you silly little child,” Michael chided. “I am God. There is no use asking for his help now.”

It’s a figure of speech dumbass.

“You’re the dumbass, Dean, you thought you could protect your brothers in doing this,” Michael spat out. “Sam will say yes, and then I will kill my brother and your brother all in one, and Sam will feel more pain than he ever thought imaginable. Picture every injury Sam has ever had, combine then and then triple the pain. That is how Sam is going to feel. And that poor poor baby Adam, caught in something so much bigger than he is. I am going to rip him limb from limb.

"The old man you call your father, blasphemy by the way, I’m going to turn him inside out, like he’s a common sock. He’s about as useful as one. And your precious rebellious angel, Castiel, I’ll have to come up with a creative punishment for him abandoning rank. My point is, everyone you love is going to suffer at the hands of you. And it’s your fault for saying yes, you pitiful fool.”

If you think Sam’s going to say yes, you’re more of an idiot that I thought.

Michael opened a window to Earth, a picture of Sam and Cas appearing.

Sam was glad to have Cas back. Sure, most of his angel mojo was gone but the comfort of having his friend there was good. Cas seemed to understand how Sam felt better than anyone else, even if he was an angel and was still figuring out human emotions. He offered Sam a place to vent whenever he needed it, when he needed to get away from Bobby and Adam’s phoney enthusiasm. Which is how Sam found himself lounging on the hood of a beat up car with Cas by his side.

“Cas, I miss Dean,” Sam admitted. His statement was swallowed up by the infinite darkness of the night sky. Cas petted Sam’s thigh in sympathy.

“As do I,” he gave a tight smile.

“I don’t know how to save him this time,” Sam sighed. “Our only advantage was Gabriel and he’s dead. Just like everyone else.” Just like Dean, and it’s all my fault. Cas turned his head slightly, just enough to give Sam a stern look.

“Sam, stop blaming yourself,” Cas scolded. 

“But it is my fault, isn’t it,” Sam bit his lip to stop himself crying. It wasn’t his turn to cry. “I opened that last seal. I’m the reason Dean’s being worn as a suit by freaking Michael!”

“Sam.”

“I know what I have to do,” Sam ignored Castiel, anything the angel had to say wasn’t important anymore. “I have to let Lucifer possess me and I have to get the drop on him.” Cas didn’t protest like Sam thought he would. In fact, he seemed to agree with Sam. It made things a Hell of a lot easier, Bobby and Adam couldn’t stop him if an angel thought it was the best idea.

“It won’t be easy but I’ll help anyway I can.”

Of all the stupid, dumb mistakes Sam had made, letting Lucifer possess him was the stupidest and the dumbest. How he thought he could take on Lucifer, regain control, Sam would never know. Like Adam said, any plan with somehow as a step is a bad plan. And yeah, this was a fucking bad plan.

He was stood in Stoll cemetery, Dean stood only a few inches in front of his face. Dean looked good, well rested and clean shaven, but that was all Michael - Sam could tell. He tried his hardest to reach out an arm or something so he could hug his brother, he missed Dean’s touch more than anything. But Lucifer would never allow that. There was a smirk, Sam could tell even if he wasn’t the one smiling, and Lucifer laughed at him.

“Michael, I’ve never seen you look so pretty,” Lucifer snickered.

“Brother, this is no time for foreplay,” Michael replied. It was Dean’s voice and Dean’s face but it wasn’t Dean. There was no wise crack, no joke, no chick-flick moment like Sam craved to hear.

“So you want to get right onto killing each other? That’s cool,” Lucifer said. To Sam, he kept whispering the most hurtful things. I’m going to tear your brother limb from limb, Sammy. That talking monkey’s had it coming for some time. Lucifer raised Sam’s fist to strike at Dean Michael.

“STOP!” Lucifer turned to look to his left. Cas, Adam, and Bobby were stood there in solidarity with the brothers. Sam wished he could fight against Lucifer, but he couldn’t. Cas continued talking, taking a protective step in front of Bobby and Adam. “Sam, Dean, you can fight them. You can.”

“Cassie, little bro, what are you doing here? Cheering on those pathetic humans?” Lucifer took a predatory step forward, but Castiel was not intimated. Sam begged Lucifer to be gentle with him.

“Lucifer, ignore them,” Michael chided. Reluctantly, Lucifer pulled away from Cas and back towards Michael. Lucifer readied his fist once more, but Cas’ gruff voice stopped them again.

“Michael, this has gone too far-” Castiel didn’t even finish his sentiment before Michael had clicked his fingers. Castiel exploded. Sam watched Dean’s face, could see a momentary break in Michael’s hold as guilt flashed over his eyes. Somehow, knowing that Dean was still in there, right below the surface made this all so much worse. Sam couldn’t do it- he couldn’t hurt his brother.

“He was right, Mikey. We don’t have to fight,” Lucifer reasoned. Michael slapped Lucifer across the face, so hard Sam felt it sting. The green in Dean’s eyes flashed again, before they darkened fully.

“Yes we do!” Michael screamed. “We wouldn’t have to if you weren’t such a petulant toddler but you couldn’t handle it when father brought the new baby home! You made him hate us all!" 

"So this is what it’s about, daddy issues? Someone couldn’t handle Dad being mad at them,” Lucifer teased. Sam could have laughed, these were the exact same fights him and Dean used to get into, about how much Dad actually loved them, about the fights Sam and John would get into. Despite anything, Sam had to laugh. No wonder it was him and Dean that were chosen as vessels. Lucifer didn’t like that though, the laughing. He punched Dean in the face to punish him.

Lucifer didn’t let up, beating Dean as much as he could. Michael cast Lucifer off of him, and Sam’s body was thrown far enough to knock out half the graves in the cemetery. Sam could take the beating though, didn’t care what Michael did to his body in trying to kill Lucifer. As long as Lucifer stayed away from Dean, Sam would be fine.

Is that how you’re going to play, Sam?

Lucifer lurched forward, tackling Michael to the ground. Strike after strike hit Dean’s face. It became unrecognisable, before Michael would heal himself only to have Lucifer wreck him again. Sam couldn’t take it, he couldn’t.

Every memory of Dean and him growing up flooded his head. The time they stuffed Lego in the Impala’s vents - God their Dad was mad at them for that. There was countless memories of Dean patching him up, the time when Sam broke his arm trying to fly and Dean biked them down to the nearest hospital. There were fights, mostly between Sam and Dad, and every time Dean had sat with him afterwards and comforted him. The time Sam got a girlfriend, and Dean gave him the talk. The time Dean got to go to prom in a second hand tuxedo, and Sam felt like a proud mama bird. 

Dean was Sam’s life. Sam couldn’t hit him any more.

“Dean! Dean I know you’re in there,” Sam pulled himself away from Michael and Dean. He fumbled around in his pocket for the rings. They were there he could remember them being there. He threw them on the ground and smiled at his brother. “I have him, Dean, I have Lucifer.” Despite every bit of resistance in his limbs, Sam dragged himself towards the edge of the pit. He felt a hand on his collar, pulling him back to Earth.

“Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done with my brother,” Michael growled out. The flash in his eyes came back, stronger than before, and suddenly his body shuddered. 

“Shut it, dickbag!” It was Dean’s voice, Dean’s tone, Dean’s everything. Dean was there, he was alive and there. “Sam, I’m here too. I’m so sorry, Man, but you ain’t walking into Hell alone.”

The brothers wrapped their arms around each other, the confirmation that they were home just under their finger tips. The angels were screaming inside their heads, but Sam and Dean could ignore that. They took hesitant steps towards the pit, teetering on the edge, before sending a sad look at their family. Bobby was crying, the first time either of them had seen the old man. Adam watched in awe of them, and they were glad to have the legacy of one brother left.They couldn’t stop themselves any longer. They jumped into the pit. 

Beating the two strongest angels in existence, saving the world. There really wasn’t anything the Winchester brothers could not do.

[ellen-reincarnated1967]

Thirty Days or Less Pt. 25

Andie couldn’t help but stifle a cocky laugh, she was right, Dean was throwing a drink down his throat in the hotel’s lounge. She scanned the room and shrank into herself, it was frigid and barren, sans the creepy bartender who kept eyeballing her from across the room.  She could smell Dean as she approached him.  She slid onto a barstool, it’s red velvet cushions, compressed as she situated herself, and she tapped the bar once.  

“You reek like ass and whiskey,” she let the amber liquid coat her throat and pushed the tumbler away from her.

“And yet you’re still here, so it can’t be that bad,” Dean smirked behind his shot glass.

“I’ve smelled worse,” Andie cringed as Dean turned to face her, his stool swiveling around, nodding in concurrence.

“I bet you have,” he waved a finger at the bartender, but Andie caught his hand.  He hesitantly recoiled from her touch.  

“Paranoid much?”  she inquired in her cocky accent and Dean narrowed his eyebrows until they met dead center.

“You saw what I did,” he growled, his voice a low, threatening purr, “how can you joke?”

“How can I not, Dean?”  Andie turned in her seat, hooking one leg underneath her and letting her hands fall to lap.

“Did you forget who has the highest degree of education in the lot of us,” she pointed a finger toward the ceiling, as if Van was in the room above them, “Van’s been researching how to save you before hopped her little white picket fence a couple of weeks back.”

“Huh,” Dean swallowed, shame left the crinkles in his forehead, and Andie saw the makings of a smile, but he faltered.

“That wasn’t you upstairs, Dean,” Andie reminded him, “it was the hallucinations, yet another tasty side effect of your ramifications with the Cross Roads Demon.”

As Dean sat listening to Andie, he couldn’t help but dart his eyes back to the bartender.  The man kept silent the whole time, constantly refilling his glass, never making eye contact.  Dean ran his fingers around the edge of the glass, tapping it, watching the man wipe down the tumblers and wine glasses.  He watched him for what could have been no longer than a minute, when Andie waved a hand in front of his face.

“You in there, Winchester?”  Andie waved her hand back and forth glancing in the direction of the bartender.  At the mere mention of Dean’s surname, the man turned, slowly, cryptically, as if he heard her, and stared in their direction.  Andie furrowed her brow as she simultaneously rolled her eyes,

“You don’t get paid to eavesdrop Buddy,” she called over to the bartender who began to walk slowly toward them.  She didn’t notice, but he held a butcher knife at his side, the glimmer of the blade caught Dean’s eye.  That, and the fact that he looked like something out of a Rob Zombie horror film.  The man’s face was ghoulish and gray.  His eyes were pitch black.  The whole time Dean was wallowing in his whiskey, a freaking demon was serving him.

“Uh, Morgan?”  Dean stood up, slowly, reaching for his waist, and pulled out his gun.

“What the hell, Dean,” Andie stood up, her hands raised as if to protect herself, “you can’t just go shootin’ a fella for eavesdropping.”  Andie cocked her head to the side and considered her statement and mumbled, “In a perfect world maybe.”

“Shut up and duck!” Dean ordered as he fired a round off over her head, hitting the bartender directly in the skull.  Black smoke began to emit from his eye sockets, mouth and nostrils.  Dean shoved Andie toward the exit and pulled a knife that Sam had given him that killed a demon dead, sending their possessing soul snatching asses back to Hell, leaving the human unscathed.  

“Take the stairs,” he pushed her again, and this time, Andie began to haul ass up the steps, taking two at a time, while Dean was on her heels, checking the stairwell for demons.  Andie reached their floor in record time, pulled open the doorway that led to the corridor, and halted.  There was a housekeeping cart outside a room, a few doors down, from their respective rooms.  She halted, signaled to Dean that there was someone ahead, and waited.  They could hear the maid exiting before they saw her and risked the chance.  They walked quickly toward Andie’s room, where Sam and Donovan were, knocked on the door repeatedly.  Andie heard Dean inhale and turned to look down the hall; the maid had gone back to her cleaning cart, busying herself with towels.  Andie beat the ball of her hand into the door, calling for Sam to open the door.  

“Forget your key?”  Sam chuckled as he opened the door, and nearly fell over, as Andie tumbled into him.  He saw her pale stricken face and began to ask what was wrong, but he could hear Dean outside in the hall, fighting off someone.  He heard the woman’s guttural cries and watched as Dean shoved the blade of the knife into her throat.  A ghastly shadow flickered, illuminating her from the inside out, and a black plume of smoke, exited her body and sought refuge in the air vents.  

“Dean, what the hell?”  Sam pulled his brother off the older woman and knelt to feel for a pulse.  Dean kicked him in the ass

“She ain’t home, Sammy,” Dean pulled his brother up by the back of his shirt and hurried him inside the hotel room.  Dean locked the door, shouted to anyone to get his duffel bag, to which Van unlocked the adjoining room door, and came back within seconds with his bag.  Dean’s hand momentarily graced Van’s and their eyes locked.  In that moment, all that had happened was in the past.  Right now, she was assisting him in lining the hotel room with salt.  The doors and the windows were taken care of; all that was remaining was the air vents. Sam hastily climbed to the sink and used duct tape to close off the ventilation system.  He tossed Andie the roll of tape and she did the same to the vent in the bathroom.  Once everyone had taken cautionary measures to ward off the influx of demons, the room fell silent, sans their heavy breathing.

“Okay,” Van wiped salt from her hands, flinching as the tiny granules infiltrated her cuts, “what the fuck was that?”  She pointed a shaky finger to the hallway. Andie reached for her hand and they interlocked fingers.

“Demons,” Andie told her, “boy wonder over there can see them now.”

“What do you mean, ‘see them’?”  Sam inquired, confused as anyone, but as he looked to his brother, stole glances at the girls, he noted that they weren’t as shocked as he was.  Andie recalled the scene at the bar.

“What do you want me to say, Sammy,” Dean huffed, “at first he was just pouring me drinks, the next minute his face was all,” Dean scrunched his face, gnarled his fingers, sagged his tongue out of his mouth, “demonic.”

“And her?”  Sam pointed a slender finger toward the deceased body that was strewn across the hallway floor.

“Oh hell, she was goddamned hideous.”  Dean retorted.  

“How long have you been able to see demons,” Sam exasperated.

“Since around, I dunno, Sammy, twenty minutes ago.”

“You knew about this,” Sam turned his attention on a very exhausted Donovan, not asking, just stating the obvious.

“Of course I knew,” she sighed, “I knew Dean had made the deal before you two showed up, I knew when the gates of hell opened up, I knew that you two were heading my way,” she threw up her hands in finality, “what I don’t know, Sam, is how to save him.”  Tears began to well in her eyes, her voice was still raspy from Dean’s previous strangulation, and Van was feeling quite fatigued.  Dean walked over to where she was propped up against the wall, leaning her head on Andie’s shoulder, and slid down next to her. He took her free hand into his and squeezed. Van returned the gesture and turned toward Dean.  She mouthed,

“I’m sorry.”

He put a warm hand to her cheek, rubbed his thumb alongside her face, and told her she had nothing to be sorry for; he knew she was doing everything she could, even if she had been holding out on him.  

“I’m sorry,” he swallowed the guilt of his prior misbehaviors, “one minute all I wanted to do was kiss you and the next thing I knew I had my hands around your throat.”  Dean cringed as the words exited his lips, his eyes lingered on the bruises on Van’s neck.

“I don’t know what’s real or what’s not,” he shook his head, closing his eyes, he let his head hit the wall with a resonating thud.  

“We’re real,” Van reassured him, “Dean, you hear me, we are real.”  

 Dean opened his eyes and found that his brother had seated himself in front of the trio and rested a hand on his brother’s leg. He patted Dean’s leg once, nodded that he was there for Dean, and Andie coughed.

“Alright, enough of this shit,” she blinked back some saline, and Van laughed.

“Morgan, you got somethin’ in your eye?”  

“Freakin’ salt,” Andie rubbed the heel of her hand over her eyes, sniffled into her shirt, and wiped her hands on her jeans, “burns like a son of a bitch.”

“Salt,” Dean chuckled, “gets me every time.”  

“Whatever,” Andie stood up and paced the room, “now that we’re sequestered in this hell hole,” she looked at Dean and pursed her lips, “my bad,” she continued on as planned, “what do we do now?”

“We get our shit in order and wait it out,” Dean suggested, “if this is the end, we’re better off together then separated.”

“Wait it out,” Van echoed, “you’re not serious?”

“I’m a hazard to everyone, including myself, if we go out there,” Dean pointed out, using his past transgressions as proof.

“On the contrary,” Van stood up and rummaged through their bags, checking their arsenal of weapons, flipping through her journal, “if you can see these bastards, why not just take them out?”

“Because if might just be a trap,” Sam contributed, “and if it is, we have to one up them.”

“So let’s hit the books, the web, call Bobby, call in the Angel,” Van’s voice was steady as she eyed each and every one of them. She waited for them to come up with an excuse, but instead, Dean tilted his head to the side and grumbled something incoherent hidden beneath a smile and called Bobby.  Sam plugged in his laptop and began to type away furiously at the keys, Andie took a seat on the floor at the foot of the queen sized bed, and perused through her journal.  Van watched them disperse to different areas of the hotel room and smiled inwardly.

Van sat cross legged on the bed, turning pages in her father’s journal, speeding through the pages, looking for something, anything that could help their defense.  Andie did the same.  Dean’s voice was urgent on the phone, Van watched him pace back and forth, giving Bobby the four one one on their situation.  Sam stopped typing and whistled.  All eyes turned to him and waited for whatever it was that he had stumbled upon.  Sam stalled, on purpose, until Van slapped him across the head with a down pillow.  

“Time, Sam, isn’t on our side here,” Van lifted the pillow for a second attack, but Sam held up his hands.

“Alright, okay, relax,” he turned the laptop so they could all circle in and read it simultaneously.  Each one of them began to smile and Andie reread an entry in her journal, a page that she had just minutes ago dog-eared.  She nodded that she was on board with the plan.  Van too had shoved the entry in her father’s journal toward Sam, who chuckled.  Van couldn’t believe that the three of them had all thought of the same thing, that was until Dean let out a guffaw that caused them all to turn to him in wonder.

“Bobby,” he breathed, “you’re never going to believe this.”  He put the cell on speaker and nodded at Bobby’s garbled voice.  

“It can be done, boy,” Bobby continued talking, “I’ve seen it done, you nitwits are just going to have to time it just right, but it can be done,” Bobby sighed, “it’ll give you time to get out of there anyways.”

“Why you idjits so quiet,” Bobby’s gruff voice came out over the speaker of the cell.  Dean, Sam, Van, and Andie couldn’t believe that they had all stumbled upon the same answer.  

“Dean!”  Bobby was growing impatient and Dean thumbed a button and walked toward the window and looked outside.  They watched Dean peer outside and waited for confirmation.  

“Yeah, Bobby,” Dean informed him, “seems they’re just waiting for us, there’s this old bag walking a dog, a crowd just walked into the bar across the street, and some new guests are checking in now.”  

“Right,” he closed the phone over and turned to Van, “How’s your Latin?”

Van’s face brightened at the thought of speaking the dead language and began to write out the incantation to bless the emergency water supply that linked each room in the hotel to a sprinkler system.  Andie rifled through her duffel bag, pulled out a set of wooden rosary beads, and tossed them across the room to her friend. Van caught them with a flick of her wrist and eyed the old beads.  

“Never would have pegged you as the praying type,” she raised an eyebrow in Andie’s direction.  Her friend just shrugged,

“Who knew some poor sap thought praying for a Morgan would come in handy,” she winked.  While the Winchesters were organizing their weaponry, Andie mouthed in Van’s directions, “Castiel.”

Tagging: @atc74 @d-s-winchester

[seraphichan]

Protean/Indigenous

(also on ao3)

~~~~~

It was one of those small, backwater towns where if you weren’t born there you stood out like a sore thumb.

Levi tended to stand out like a sore thumb anyway, so he was doubly damned as he drove through the square in his black hybrid, designer sunglasses on his face, Vivaldi blasting out of his speakers.

He probably could have done a better job of blending in - picked up a Garth Brooks album, wore camo, learned to spit, practiced saying the word “y’all” - but he refused to swap his pretty and posh style for poor and podunk just so he could blend in for the short time he would be there.

Levi parked his car in front of a squat brick building that was squeezed between the general store and the barber shop. The sign out front simply read Smith’s in large, golden letters, but there was other writing embossed on the windows detailing the business. It was a combination notary, attorney office, and - Levi squinted to make sure he was reading it right - home of the Arsene County Knitting Club.

That was...interesting.

Levi ran his hand through his hair and adjusted the knot of his scarf before he got out of his car and wandered inside. There was no one around when he entered, but the bell that rang above his head was sure to bring them eventually, so Levi passed the time inspecting one of the very intricate quilts that hung framed on the wall.

“Hello,” said a voice and Levi turned.

To find a fucking giant.

“I’m Erwin,” he said, holding out his hand. “You must be Levi.”

“Is it that obvious?” Levi asked after a moment, taking the man’s hand and shaking it, trying not to stare at his eyebrows.

“We don’t get much variety here, so I just assumed.”

“Well, you assumed right.”

Erwin smiled.

“My apologies for the wait. I was organizing some files in the back. I’ve been meaning to do it for ages,” he chuckled. “Anyway, I have your paperwork ready for review if you’d like to have a seat.”

He gestured to a plush chair in front of one of the desks. Levi sat and Erwin did the same on the other side, pulled a folder from a drawer, and opened it up.

“You were related to the late Mr. Ackerman through your mother?”

“Yeah.”

In fact his mother was the only reason he was here. Levi didn’t have many mementos of her, only a few photos and an embroidered handkerchief. Levi was hoping that Kenny might have something more - the man may have been a royal asshole, but he loved his sister - and decided he would take some time off to dig through Kenny’s things before putting it all up for auction.

“He was her brother. My uncle.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Levi nodded and shrugged, not really sure how to respond. Erwin seemed to pick up on this, dipping his head in apology and clearing his throat before delving into the rest of the information before him.

After what seemed like the longest hour of Levi’s life, and the beginning of carpal tunnel from all the papers he had to sign, they were finished. Erwin took a few moments to collect everything back into the folder before sliding it back into the desk.

“And that is that,” he sighed. “Now that we’ve gotten all the technical stuff out of the way, we can visit the house.”

We?

“It’s fine, I can go myself. I have the address.”

Erwin’s gaze flicked outside briefly to look at Levi’s car. “As capable as I’m sure your mode of transportation is, I would advise against using it. The road’s a bit...rough.”

Understatement of the fucking century.

Levi would have bottomed out his car in the very first pothole. Erwin’s truck sat higher and was much better suited for traversing this shit fest that he called a road. Still, Levi had to hold onto the door with one hand and the seat with the other to keep himself from rocking back and forth too violently and cracking his head open on the window. He also had to keep himself from accidentally biting his tongue off because Erwin insisted on making small talk as they plodded along.

“What do you do for work, Levi?”

“I’m a broker.”

“Oh? Do you like it?”

“It’s boring, but it pays.”

Erwin hummed. There was a short stretch of silence and then he asked

“How long do you plan on staying?”

“Two weeks. At most.”

“That’s a shame...Ah, here we are.”

They rounded a bend in the road, the house coming into view, and Levi grimaced.

It looked like a steaming pile of shit. The flowerbeds were overgrown, the roof desperately needed patched, all of the windows of the second floor were broken and boarded up, and the greenhouse - which would have been a redeeming addition to the property - was being used as a storage shed.

Of course, Levi imagined it was actually much nicer on the inside. Kenny was the kind of guy that would keep his house in ruins on the outside to throw people off. No one was going to attempt to rob an old man that lived in a dilapidated shack.

Erwin climbed the front porch stairs, Levi lingering back in case the creaking wood couldn’t hold both their weight at the same time, and opened the screen door.

Which promptly fell off of the frame leaving Erwin to stand there and awkwardly hold it upright by the handle.

“It seems,” he said as he propped it against the house, “that the hinges have rusted.”

Levi snorted. Another thing that Kenny most likely did on purpose. The back door would probably be a better entry point. Levi was about to suggest they try it when he heard a rustle and turned his head in time to watch a man taller than Erwin - were all people born in the sticks this huge? - emerge from the woods.

“Who the fuck?” Levi blurted.

At Levi’s question Erwin turned from his inspection of the door and made a noise of recognition.

“Mike? What brings you here?”

“Tracking that coon that’s been in our bins.”

“Any luck?”

Mike held up a burlap sack and grinned. “Yup.”

Oh my god.

Erwin smiled at him and came down the porch, Mike meeting him halfway and giving him a kiss. Levi’s eyebrows shot up. Maybe this town wasn’t as behind the times as he thought it was going to be, not that it erased the awkwardness of watching two people he didn’t know smooch a mere two feet away from him.

Mike nodded at Levi when they parted. “Who’s this?”

“Oh! Mike, Levi. Levi, Mike,” Erwin said, pointing between the two in way of introduction. “This is the person I mentioned the other night.”

“The only living relative you could find to take over that Kenny guy’s estate?”

“The very same.”

Mike gave Levi a quick once-over. “Nice scarf.”

Levi narrowed his eyes at Mike. Was this fucker making fun of him?

“I can’t pull one off.”

“They make him look like Freddy from Scooby-Doo,” Erwin added jovially.

Mike nudged him in the leg with the dead raccoon. “Looks good on you, though,” he said to Levi.

“It does,” Erwin agreed.

“Thanks?”

Levi’s mind was reeling. This was all so fucking weird. If it wasn’t for the still steady throbbing of his wrist he would swear he was having an out-of-body experience.

“Should we get back to looking at the house?” Erwin asked.

“Actually,” Levi began, “I’m kind of tired. From the drive.” And the headache that was developing from this entire situation. “Is there a place I can stay?”

Levi had looked for lodging beforehand. The closest place was thirty minutes out of town, some motel that probably should have been demolished in the 80s. He was hoping that there was something else, though, a local secret of sorts, not listed on the internet.

“We don’t have anything in town,” Mike said.

Fucking great.

“There’s that motel down the road,” Erwin chimed in, “but it’s a half an hour drive one way. To make that trip in the morning and then back at night after all the days of hard work you’ll be doing…”

Levi shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Nonsense.” He paused for a moment. “I know. Why don’t you stay with us?”

That caught Levi off-guard. “Uh,” he articulated.

“What do you think?” Erwin asked Mike.

“Sure. We’ve got the spare room.”

“Wonderful.” Erwin clapped his hands together, effectively ending the short, very one-sided conversation. “So what would you like for dinner?”

They both looked at Levi expectantly.

“Uh,” he repeated.

“What about this?” Mike asked, holding up the sack.

“There’s an idea. I haven’t had coon in a while,” Erwin said.

Wait, were they serious? How did you even eat a raccoon? Could you even eat one? Levi was beginning to feel sick just thinking about it.

“Soup or saute?” Mike asked.

“It’s still fairly early. I think there’s time for it to stew.”

Levi was in a daze as he followed them back to Erwin’s truck. They all climbed in, sandwiching Levi in the middle with the dead raccoon, and then they were bumping back down the road, Levi wondering what sort of fucked up Twilight Zone shit he had just gotten himself into.

[keepcalmanditsdoctor]

Chapter 8

The dark gray clouds passed by underneath the wingspan of the jet as the team made their way to Oklahoma state. Hotchner sat showing pictures of his son’s most recent soccer game to Rossi. Morgan drank coffee and dreamily stared out the window. Cat leaned up against the wall of the jet, her back on the cabin and her feet on the chair next to her. She dozed in and out of sleep, her pain medication peaking at this time. Emily studied over the case files, reading up on testimonies and evidence. It was always harder when children were involved in cases. It was always so hard to deal with the emotional and mental concerns that came with cases involving children.

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

“Spencer I was calling to see how your classes have been going. You used to keep me updated every time but now I have to call you to see what’s going on.” Spencer’s mother spoke over the phone as he made his way down the steps into the subway.

“It’s funny you say that because I actually would have had to call you to invite you next week to come to my last session. All family members and loved ones to come for a group therapy session. It’s the last step to the program and then I can join the BAU again.”

“I am so very proud of you Spencer for overcoming this. I know how difficult it can be and I know you’ve made some mistakes in the past but I’m so glad that you are able to work toward a sober lifestyle. Just tell me the time and date and I’ll try to be there. Now… who is Catherine? A co-worker?” Diana smiled over the phone.

“Well, technically yes, but that is because she took my place on the team until I could get back, but I met her way before that. Mom….I really care about her. She’s really great and in fact I’m sure you’ll meet her for the meeting next week.” Spencer continued to talk to his mother throughout his subway ride back to his apartment. When he got to the door he gave her the time and date and told her he couldn’t wait to see her. With a click of the door knob Spencer was happily back into his warm apartment. The rain had picked up again and was beating  against the windows. He plopped himself down onto the couch and pulled out his phone again. He dialed Cat’s number but alas was met again with the voicemail.

“I wonder what she is up to?” he questioned aloud. He placed his phone down on the couch and flicked on the TV, lazing around on this dreary afternoon. There was a sudden knock on the door, jarring Spencer from a light sleep. He stood up and peered out of his door hole.

“What?”

He could see no one. He shrugged off the strange feeling and opened the door, seeing a box on the ground of the floor. For a quick second Spencer’s heart skipped a beat. Was this the same person who had sent him the dilaudid in the beginning? Spencer had told the team and Gracia about it, but they were never able to tell who had sent it to him. Spencer opened the used-looking box only to discover it was full of his clothes, some stuffed animals, and belongings of when he had been dating Anna. He looked through it sullenly, the guilt coming over him again, but quickly withdrew back into the confines of his apartment. He placed the box on the table and began to sort through the articles, throwing away the stuffed animals, placing pictures in a box, and moving through the clothes of what he would keep and what he would get rid of.

What he didn’t notice while going through the box was the odd looking puncture wounds penetrating the box’s sides.

---------

“This is where they were found. It was sort of creepy looking. I’ve never seen something like this before. They were just positioned perfectly, as if they were watching TV or something. Just staring straight ahead…”Officer Lane finished, staring at the spot where the Tazmen’s had been found dead. Cat and Derek took small notes, taking in their surroundings.

“Any physical evidence though? I didn’t see anything noted in the report we had.” Cat looked around, everything seeming in-place and un-touched.

“The only physical evidence we ever found was the struggle of the kid’s bed. All three times their blankets were ripped off and taken with them. Other than that this guy was thorough. No fingerprints, no forced entry. Nothing.”

“Well then we may assume that all families knew the unsub. If there was no forced entry then the unsub either knew how to enter without leaving a mark or he was able to enter through the front door.”

“Derek I’m going to go look through the kid’s room.” Catherine began to make her way up the stairs, turning right and entering a brightly colored pink room. This was Jill Tazmen’s bedroom. It was filled to the brim with dolls and Barbies, and all kinds of things to keep a six year old girl occupied. Catherine sighed heavily, feeling an immense sadness settle in the pit of her stomach. She could see that the officer was right in stating that the bed had been stripped. All that remained was the mattress.

“Cat, we have a problem.” Derek startled her, looming in the doorway. Cat looked up, fear clenching her throat.

“Go ahead baby girl! You’re on speaker.” Derek spoke into the phone as he drove away from the crime scene, Cat sitting in the passenger seat.

“I just got off the phone with Hotch, there was a small body found down by the quarry not 15 miles from where you are. I’m sending you the coordinates now.”  Penelope’s voice sounded as if she had been crying. Cat clenched her fists into a ball, anger and sadness welling up inside of her. This was the first case she would be working with children, and for that matter a dead child. She could feel bile raise in her throat but she fought everything to push it down as they sped to the scene where any of the three possible children could be.

--------

“There you are, were you sleeping? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, to see if you wanted to do anything tonight.” Spencer took a sip of coffee after he spoke, flipping through the TV channels mindlessly, not having anything left to do after his class.

“Yeah… about that Spence…. I may have… sort of…. went back to work.” Cat trailed her words, knowing what Spencer’s reaction would be.

“You what? Cat are you crazy? You’re barely healed!” Spencer felt a small bit of anger rise up in his chest. What was she thinking?

“I know I know I know but I didn’t want to be out for a long time and then have you come back in. I also just can’t sit at home. I’ll go crazy. Besides this is a big case and I wanted to be a part of it. I know you’re upset with me but I can’t talk now, we’re just about to get to the next crime scene. I will call you later? Okay?”

There was a long pause. “Okay.” Spencer said bitterly, clicking off the phone. He didn’t know what he felt. Was it annoyance at her stupidity for going back to work so soon? Was it that he was jealous that she was on an important case and he wasn’t? HE was going stir crazy, that was for sure. What if she got hurt again? What if something happened to her injury while on the job?

Spencer’s vast mind pondered over every possibility but eventually he knew he had to let it go and continue on with his day, otherwise he would drive himself mad worrying about Catherine. He flicked off the TV, grabbing a book from his bookcase and headed to his bedroom.

--------

“The picture that we have concludes that the body matches that of Layna Ridge.” The coroner handed over the picture as well as led Hotch and Derek over to see the frail child within the body bag. “Two kids had been playing in the quarry with their bikes and found her wedged under some rocks. Thank God for kids breaking the rules and playing in quarries. Otherwise we wouldn’t have found her.”

Cat stared at the body bag from afar. As much as she thought she had to, she just couldn’t bring herself to look inside it. If the rest of the team and the coroner and officers could confirm that it was Layna then it was and she didn’t have to put herself through that. 

Emily looked closely, diligently. “What do you think was the cause of death?” she asked, her eyes glossing over the body to view any type of wounds or injuries. She noticed something at the middle of the neck.

“From what I can tell what with the condition of the body being stuck within the rocks was a broken neck. I believe that it had happened before she was dumped where she was. There are no scratch marks from the rocks or anything indicating she broke it on a fall downward into the rocks. There is one other thing that I was able to note however….” The coroner grimaced, glancing over at the body bag. “She was raped….post-mortem. There was bruising and abrasions consistent with post-mortem indications. Emily frowned, disgusted at the thought. She returned to the group discussing the case.

“So we’re dealing with someone who had easy access to the families, knows them, or at least tries to get to know them enough where the families feel comfortable letting them into their home. We’re dealing with a necrophiliac and that specifically of children.” Emily wrote down in her notes as she spoke, joining the team again. Cat shuddered, also writing down the key points.

“When we went to the Tazmen’s we couldn’t find any shred of physical evidence. The only thing noted by the officers was that of the bedding being taken with the child. We also have to considered the way the parents were poisoned and the significance of the picture they are holding.” Cat spoke aloud.

Rossi looked down at his notepad, pondering. “Obviously the unsub had to bring the arsenic with him. That’s not something you find every day in household cleaning products. Also the picture of the child within the photograph is almost like a school photo. It was done professionally. Was it a school photo?”

“I will get back to you on that as soon as possible my loves.” Garcia clicked off the phone, doing what she did best at her research.

“We’re almost ready to deliver the profile, but I think we may need some help first.” Hotch spoke as he made his way back to the company cars.  

“Hello? Hotchner? ” Spencer spoke into the phone, surprised by the sudden phone call from his boss.

“Reid…. I know you’re not back on the team yet, but we need your help. We’re working an important case in Oklahoma, and I need your mapping skills to dictate the comfort zone of the unsub. The murders and kidnaps seem too sporadic.  Can you help us?” Spencer couldn’t help but smile, even though this was a very serious situation.

“Of course. Relay the information to me.”

After about an hour of pouring over the information as well as receiving the sites of the kidnaps/murders Spencer was skillfully able to create a map of the unsub’s possible comfort zone. He reached for his phone, eager to call Hotchner back.

“Hotchner.” He picked up the phone, anxiously awaiting Reid’s help. The coroner had stated that Layna’s body was dead for several days, and so their timeframe to find the other children alive was slowly dwindling.

“Okay so I’ve taken all the information and also mapped out the coordinates of all of the kidnappings. It turns out that from where the body was dumped, and where all kidnappings took place there is a mall right in the center. And get this, they are known for their photographing center. It’s named Arrowhead Mall.” Spencer Reid finished smoothly his heart pounding heavily with excitement at being able to help again.

“We’re ready to deliver the profile.” Hotch spoke aloud to the team as they made their way to the center of the station to deliver it and the new info about the mall.

“We’re dealing with a 25-30 year old male who works at the Arrowhead mall as a photographer. Our technologist support has narrowed it down to suspect Phillip Salatzi. He is a full time employee of the mall and has access to mailing records of all three families. And most importantly Phillip was the main employee working each day to take each photo of the child that was being held by the dead parents. It is unsure at this time if he is dangerous to law enforcement, but it is important to note the aggression toward the children in his killing of Layna Ridge by breaking her neck. It is essential we enter the mall as best as possible or he might initiate a hostage situation. Be prepared. Children’s lives are at risk.” Hotchner finished off the profile, with the officers suiting up and getting ready to head to the mall with the team.

-------

“Joshua stop doing that. You’re going to ruin the picture!” Elaina Larson slapped at her son’s hand who had been tugging non-stop at the bottom of her shirt, nervous and camera shy. Phillip Salatzi felt his blood boil from behind the camera as he watched the mother scold the child. Phillip peeked into the lens and then back out again, noticing tears beginning to weld up in Joshua’s eyes. The boy was only 4.

“Now now Joshua.  Won’t you smile for Mr. Ducky?” Phillip pulled out a stuffed animal shaped like a cartoon duck. Joshua smiled a little, eying the duck with weary eyes. Elaina quickly snatched the duck away.

“We don’t have time for this, can’t you just take the pictures already. I have to be at my mother’s house in an half hour.”

Phillip stood up straight, anger scorching in his eyes. How would Miss Larson feel if he just killed her right then and there? He felt a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that later he could go to the house of Joshua and collect him away from this wretched mother. Elaina scoffed at Phillip’s aggressive approach, stepping forward, not backward, into his stance. “Excuse you!”

Joshua began to cry freely now, whining at his mother’s outburst. Elaina turned and slapped the child so hard there was a large red handprint on his cheek.

“You bitch.” Phillip said quietly. Suddenly he grabbed his camera and hit Elaina so hard against the head that she fell to the floor like a ton of bricks. Joshua screamed as Phillip picked him up, holding him tightly against his chest and making his way toward the exit. Just then his eyes met with that of Rossi’s.

“Phillip…put the child down. Okay? Let him go.” Phillip stared stunned at the group of FBI agents staring him down, guns drawn at him. Without his knowledge the store had been cleared out, save for his room with his clients. Now it was just him, Joshua, Elaina bleeding on the floor from the break in her head, and the FBI agents. Cat pointed her gun, this time knowing better then to step forward toward the unsub to talk. Her side still smarted from just the thought of it. This time Emily was the one to put her gun down in a surrender type motion. She knew that they needed Phillip alive to tell them where the other children were. So far a search of Phillip’s house had provided nothing in terms of where they might be. Emily stepped forward, her hands raised.

“We know that you were just trying to help Phillip. Right?  That mom wasn’t being a good mom to him, was she? I know you’re just trying to help. I would have done the same thing. But now you need to let him go and let us help. We need to be able to help those kids.”

“You mean like you helped me? Like you helped my family?” Phillip yelled back, tears welding in his eyes.

“I know that you feel the state cheated you. I know your mom wasn’t a good mom. I know you just wanted a picture perfect family, but if you wanted that, don’t you think that you should let these families have a chance to get that too? Don’t you think you should let these kids go so they can choose for themselves what kind of future they want?”

“You mean like my future? 30 years old with no schooling, no family, no life? Feeling lonely and worthless every day, thinking that I would just be better off dead! No.. you can’t change me. It’s too late now to help me. Where were you 23 years ago? HUH? WHERE WERE YOU?”

With that Phillip raised Joshua up into his hands, wrapping his one arm around his head and the other around Joshua’s neck. Shots filled the room as a bullet drove its way through Phillip’s brain, causing him to drop Joshua to the floor, falling back straight, dead.

Emily and Derek turned toward Cat, her gun smoking from the shot. Her hands were now shaking, even though she had hit him dead on in his forehead. Her gun was still raised, and Derek came over and gently lowered it for her, bringing her close to his body.

The first time killing someone will never leave you. It’s something that will stay with you the rest of your life and Catherine now understood that.  

Rossi looked at Cat sympathetically but then whispered. “How are we going to find those kids now?”

Cat could barely hear him. She could feel that bile that was so common to her raise up again in her throat. She choked it back, shaking, her mind replaying the scene over and over again. She wanted to run. To run away from this scene and never look back. But she knew it would chase her, no matter where she went. She wiped away at her eyes and then turned toward Hotch who nodded to her. Without her shot Joshua may be dead.

Just then Hotche’s cell phone rang.

“Go ahead Garcia. Please tell me you have any leads because Phillip didn’t make it through the interrogation.” Hotch spoke fast, his mind racing toward the worst of where the kids might be.

“I do actually. Correlating with Reid I was able to find a small apartment that Phillip visited weekly. I was able to find this by digging into his old credit card records. It turns out that this apartment was one of the many places he stayed with his mother. Going through his records Phillip was always in and out of care while his mother received treatment in rehab for drug abuse but Phillip was always returned back to her. According to other sources Phillip reported sexual abuse by his mom when she was high or under the influence but the follow-up turned out no evidence to go off on and she wasn’t indicated and Phillip wasn’t taken away. As hard as it was to find this apartment I believe this is where he may be keeping the children because of the significance to him. I’m sending you the coordinates now.”

“Thank God…”Cat whispered under her breath, still shaking. There may be another way to find the kids yet. She hadn’t ruined their only chance at finding them.

FBI agents flooded the apartment, bursting down the door. Two children, a boy and a girl sat on a bed in a small one bedroom apartment. They sat watching TV, eating out of a bowl of soggy cheerios. Derek and Emily quickly grabbed them, holding them tight and removing them from the apartment. Cat, who waited outside nearly collapsed when Rossi came back to tell her the news that they had found the kids, and that they were alive and safe.

Without thinking she grabbed Rossi and hugged him, feeling a weight lifted off of her shoulders.

“You did well today Ms. Menson. You did well.”

[amoretheiwa]

The Dark Knight and the Boy Scout

Here you are! You’re (not-so-regular) update

Last update was the first half of Breanna Wayne’s interview with Lois Lane. Here is the other half of that moment.

Read on AO3

Prologue pt. 3: The Interview B

 “I don’t exactly know what she was writing about myself. You see, I happened to go on a date with Jaden, but in the process met his twin brother Mose. We then went out on a date a few weeks later, but neither went anywhere farther than the respective restaurants. It was the scandal of the week as I had apparently convinced Cat—and the world—that I was seriously dating Lex Luthor.”

“Were you dating Luthor, seriously or otherwise?”

Breanna shook her head with a smile.

“No, not at all. Lex and I were meeting multiple times a week to set up a new joint project between our companies but our visions did not align. You can’t blame Cat though, she was extremely thorough in her investigation of my life: there’s just not that much to find that you don’t already see.”

“Cat definitely gets what she wants most of the time,” Lois said. “Could you possibly tell us more about this failed project?”

Breanna stared past Ms. Lane, her lips moving in a circle before opening in response.

“There’s not much that I can actually say about the project itself seeing as how Lex is planning to go through with it on his own now, as much as he is able without Wayne Industries unique assistance.”

Lois nodded, scribbling something down on her notepad. She leaned forward slightly, her blue eyes narrowed.

“Do you think you could instead tell us—me—what about your visions didn’t align?”

Breanna stilled for a second before letting loose a deep breath. Lois had to hide a grin—not many broke past the shell Breanna Wayne portrayed towards almost all media personnel, but things seemed to be pointing to a rare genuine interview with the young woman.

“Since my parents passed, I’ve tried to do all I can to help others as they would have wanted. The Wayne fortune is not meant to be solely saved for my pleasure and future posterity. It is a blessing and one that I must share. People sometimes confuse helping others with throwing money at them, but the Wayne Industries employees and I have found that when you educate someone and provide the tools they need, then you are better providing help than if you just gave them a $1000 a month.”

“That sounds like a PR statement, not an answer,” Lois prodded. Breanna smiled without showing her teeth.

“Let’s just say that I think there is a necessary need for distance when helping someone while still remaining relatively close, and Lex is more of the opinion that total control will garner a faster and longer lasting result.”

Lois nodded, and wrote a few things down before speaking again.

“You mentioned your parents and what they would have wanted. Is that as in what they would have wanted from you as their sole heir, or wanted from the rest of the world?”

Breanna pursed her lips as she stared at Lois who held her hand over her notepad, poised to start writing again.

“They were kind people. I like to think that I knew them better than most despite how young I was when they were murdered, or at least had a unique perspective that no one except maybe Alfred shared. In that respect I think it’s what they would have wanted from both me and the rest of Gotham and our country and the world.”

The other woman nodded understandingly.

“As tomorrow will mark the 13th anniversary of their passing, what do you think they would think of you now? And of Wayne Industries, and Gotham?” She asked.

Breanna looked at her, surprise coloring her expression for a moment. As she sucked on her bottom lip, the 21-year-old orphan shifted in her seat so that the opposite leg was now underneath the other.

“I think they would be proud of what I’ve done with both myself and the company. I did not allow their passing to control the rest of my life, nor did I turn towards any sort of unsavory pastime to “cope”,” here she used air quotes. “Wayne Industries is doing better than ever, and is involved in more charity and goodwill than most other companies can boast. Gotham, however, is a different answer entirely.”

Breanna opened her mouth to respond, her eyebrows coming down in a briefly angry expression. She was stopped from responding as someone knocked on the study door.

“Come in,” she called out, instead of whatever she had been about to say.

Alfred pushed the door openly gently with a black wooden tray in his hands.

“Forgiven the intrusion, Miss, but I brought some refreshments. Ms. Lane.”

After setting it down the butler disappeared quietly once again. Breanna smiled at the reports and waved a hand over the tray.

“Please, take whatever you want.”

Lois was a little surprised to find a bowl of fresh strawberries and blueberries next to a small spoon, one of her personal favorites. There was a second plate, and this one was full of what looked like fluffy diamonds of pastry with a dark filling—baklava.

“Alfred sure does his research,” Lois said as she picked up the spoon clearly meant for her.

Breanna grinned, picking up her treat.

“He prides himself on being the best butler possible. I don’t know what I would have done without him all these years.”

They both chewed for a few seconds, savoring a few bites before Lois put her bowl back down. She swallowed rather obviously.

“What were you going to say about Gotham, Breanna?”

The heiress daintily finished chewing, and swallowed.

“It’s probably a good thing Alfred interrupted,” she said quietly, looking out the window at nothing. The mood shifted at that moment.

“I’ve seen the harshest, cruelest that Gotham has to offer, and at a young age too. And now? In so many ways Gotham had just gotten worse, and in very few ways aspects has it improved. Wayne Industries has provided jobs but crime is still steadily rising. My parent’s killer was never found, never brought to justice…” here she seemed to truly leave the room.

“I will never have any sense of closure concerning their deaths, and that combined with the sheer unnecessariness of their deaths will always haunt me,” she murmured.

Lois’ eyebrows lowered minimally.

“I’m sorry!” Breanna turned around and faced the journalist, her eyes wide and a hand over her mouth. “That was so un-tactful of me to say, such a downer. Please don’t publish that portion, I’m afraid I wasn’t paying attention to what I was saying.”

“Alright, Breanna. I’ll do that for you,” Lois said. The mood was darkly somber and over the course of the next few questions it seemed that Breanna Wayne’s walls were back up.

 A little under an hour later, and Lois had enough for more than just one article. Breanna came with Alfred to show her out and once she was gone the heiress collapsed on the couch in the living room. Her butler sat down in the seat across from the coffee table and shook his head.

“You should have done more to focus the interview Mrs. Wayne’s foundation, in my opinion.”

Breanna groaned and turned over, facing the cushions and throwing a leg over the back of the couch. She mumbled something into the cushions.

“Miss Wayne,” Alfred said in his scolding voice, “please refrain from treating the furniture as such. The Manor is your home, not a playground.”

Breanna twisted in such a way that all of her body except for her shoulders, neck, head, and hands were off the couch and in the air. Alfred sighed and stood, glancing at her charge.

“Your scheduled meeting with Mr. Fox is in an hour. If you truly want to convince him to be on board with your future night-time endeavors, then you may want to have all of your material compiled, if it isn’t already.”

Breanna straightened up into a handstand and blew out a burst of air.

“My stuff is together, I’m just not sure if I am.”

She fell back onto the couch, the handstand not a perfected move in her arsenal quite yet.

“Miss Wayne!”