#imagine being so iced out that u literally freeze water as u walk by. move over jesus my horse is the god now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mnxxlove · 5 years ago

Note

Heeeey! I would like to request a Steve Rogers Imagine, with the prompts 17,20, 26,29. I really need Captain America in my life ❤️❤️❤️

IF YOU LOVE ME

Pairing: Steve Rogers

Prompts:

17; angst with happy ending

20; soulmates as friends

26; separation in battlefield

29; go on missions together

Word Count: 4902

Summary: It’s 2023, it’s been five years since The Avengers lost their battle, and Thanos won. Everyone did feel guilty and angry for it, they all wanted to avenge the fallen but it was already too late. Or at least it was, until Scott Lang suddenly appeared, and gave them the wonderful idea of returning back in time, thanks to the quantum realm.

Everyone has fought their battles and tried to win their demons, but Steve was blaming himself, and Nat, Bucky and Sam knew it. Ever since he got to witness, one of the most important persons that were in his life, to disappear before his eyes. It literally ruined him.

And he knew, deep down, that he would do anything for getting her back, and not losing her again.

warnings: a lot of angst, depression alert, overthinking, grief, fluff and light gore.

• Thanks for your request love 🧚

gif not mine;

The lights were turned off, the only light getting inside his apartment was the lightning coming from the furious thunders that would constantly collide to the countryside. He was standing, his left elbow placed on the freezing window, that was covered with millions of drops of cold water. His face was neutral, but he was feeling the exact otherwise…

There was no day in which he hadn’t spent it on blaming himself for what had happened. Not only her, trying to sacrifice her life all over again, just for him, but of him thinking that it was his fault. Steve Rogers, the man that was able of being capable of breaking and still recovering easily, hypocritical of everyone, even him, to believe so, counting on, that he has always felt the weakest, and the most vulnerable member of his team.

He tried to be positive, but there was no way he could be able to see the bright side of his current situation. A lot of people died, including her, and he could not help but to almost lose himself too. Steve has been all by himself, ever since he came out of the ice. Then, he met the people which later on, not only he would call them friends, but family. And then, there was her. She was a simple agent, but he knew she was more than just that. He valued her, not only for what she had become, but who she really was...

Y/n has always been there for him, every moment, every fight, every battle… And so was him, for her. But all changed a few years ago, back in two thousand and fifteen, when Steve got himself trapped in some issues that made him, Natasha and Sam to become the most wanted people from the Interpol. Even when she did not fight beside him at the airport, and she did not support him at the battle, Y/n changed her mind, to then helping him. At the end, her becoming as wanted for the Interpol as he was...

No phone calls, no messages for at least two and a half years. Then, Thanos happened, and the whole team got reunited, including her; something he didn’t expect. It’s not that he never expected her to appear, it only turned to be really unpredictable and confusing having her back. Even though they were fighting the battle of their life, it felt good having her with him, still, it didn’t last for so long... It was horribly painful to remember it, but he did it anyways.

Thanos arrived, he was giant, purple and way more taller and bigger than anyone could ever expected him to be. He was having a mischievous grin marked on his face. His pride and his ego were high, while looking at the ones who were possibly going to attack him. Wanda and Vision were with Steve, but so was Y/n. And although, deep down, Steve knew that he needed to do everything to stop him, and to not get to Vision, he then never thought about the consequences. Him and Y/n were one, if he moved she moved. It has always been good to have their own backs protected and watched, however, if anyone would get hurt or have any type of problems, they would be there for themselves no matter what.

And so, she was. It didn’t matter how worn out she felt, or how weak she was feeling, or the fact that she was bleeding, almost draining. She fought for him, until she couldn’t anymore. And just when things were turning to be under control, the great Titan snapped his fingers, and by consequence, making half of the living creatures of the whole galaxy to disappear and to turn into dust and ashes. But Steve, still didn’t know about it, until having her, staying unconscious, carried on his arms.

He was breathless, sitting on the ground having her cuddled. His eyes were filled with terror. Steve whispered her name a few times, while having one of his hands placed on her face, but there was no response back.

“I cannot lose you.” Steve’s voice stuttered, while he glanced at her, eyes scared. His fingers, taking off some strands of hair that were getting on her face delicately.

He wanted her to wake up, or at least make a noise, for him to know that she was awakened or at least, still alive. Even when he should’ve been hopeless, ‘cause Thanos himself, did attack her with the power stone, and punched really bad on the head, Steve wasn’t, he had faith. But then suddenly, everything stopped, there was no wind and the trees were no longer moving. There were no sounds and that made him to have a really bad feeling curving down his spine. His head got raised, he looked around, but he was alone, he had no idea where Wanda or Vision were, but still, Thor was there. Eyes full with blame and grief. He was barely blinking, and his face turned blank.

“Thor?” Steve gasped confusedly, but the God of Thunder didn’t even move from his place.

Pressing his lips anxiously, he then lowered his chin, and once he saw her fading into shattered dust, his eyes full with tears, widened in complete shock..

When Y/n was no longer there with him, he then looked at his dark gloves, now smudged with what was left from her. And that was the moment of realisation, when he was sure, that he lost not only the battle, but her as well.

There was no day in which any of his friends wouldn’t give him a call, or visit him. Nevertheless, Steve was tired of them trying to be supportive of something that had no solution or whatsoever. He truly wished he could’ve stopped her from saving him, making her stop running towards Thanos, just in case, he could’ve made anything for her, to not save him, to then, at end, saving her instead; or even trying to stop Thanos from snapping, but it was already too late.

“Steve…” Bucky’s voice sounded from outside of his apartment. He was calling for him to open up the door, but he did not move a finger. Steve did hear someone then, unlocking the door, but he did not even bother to look who could probably be, because he already knew.

“We know that you said you wanted to be on your own for a while. But it’s been weeks…” Sam sighed, just behind him.

His friends stared straight, at the yet broken man still staying in the same exact position.

“I know it has been a complete nightmare for you. We understand. But there’s no way you’ll get better, if you don’t try to move on, Steve.” Bucky’s words were hoarse and deep. Trying as best as he could to be careful, and to not hurt his friend’s feelings. However, on the other hand, Steve just decided to let out a deep sigh full with exhaustion. He was drowning, he knew it, but at the same time he didn’t care at all.

“What if I don’t want to move on?” The bearded man whispered, now taking off his elbow from the window. But still, standing just where he was at, still giving to them his back.

“You can’t be like this forever.” Bucky cleared his throat, now approaching, taking a few steps towards Steve. James was feeling bad for his friend. He wanted to help him, or at least, trying him to cope better with all the pain he was suffering. But it was impossible to make him feel any better…

Without saying anything else, Buck just pressed his lips in a thin line, while he looked straight up at him, empathy in his eyes such as Wilson’s were as well.

“I loved her, Bucky.” Steve admitted, his voice broken, such as if he was fighting himself for not to sob. His old friend looked up at him, and then closed his eyes.

“We know you did.” That was the last thing Sam said, right after Steve turned around on his feet, to then, walking straight to take a seat. Their friends followed him, having a seat just beside him, on the grey padded couch, he had on the living room.

They didn’t say anything back, afterwards. Sam either Bucky had no idea how to talk with him, without making him feel way worse than he was already feeling, and so it happened.

Someone’s footsteps approached rapidly to the entry, making them raise their chin at the same time, expecting someone to enter inside his place. It was Natasha, an expression of speechlessness, marked on her pale face.

“What's wrong?” Steve asked her, while taking a long sip from his almost empty glass of scotch whiskey. Nat still feeling shocked, she just walked towards where Steve was sitting, and without asking him, she grabbed his left hand, to make him, to get up from his seat.

“Where are you taking me? Nat…?” Steve repeated himself a few times. He was having a confused frown marked on his face. He was unsure of what was going on, but although he didn’t want to get thrilled about it, he did it anyway.

Nat made him to go downstairs, go inside the car and she brought them three to the Avengers base. Once they were in, Steve was starting to have a burst of feelings, just wanting to explode at the moment. So many memories, he couldn’t handle but to feel his heart ache for a bit, while walking and seeing the pictures that were framed all over the wall.

“Scott?” Steve told unsurely, while he looked at the inpatient man that was running in constant circles all over the place. Ant-man then, after hearing a familiar voice, calling from him, he stopped on both his feet, he looked up, then staring at the four people who were expected for him.

“I thought you were-” Steve added, his voice low but direct.

“Gone? Yeah, me too for a second. Until I went to see those bigass graves that were placed at the… “ Scott gasped ironically and then abruptly shut his mouth, blinking rapidly, his hands then trailing up, to his face desperately.

“Have either of you studied quantum physics?” Scott asked, afraid he had to make a whole explanation about it. Him noticing their confused faces, he then, decided to explain it and what he has been up to.

Every word he said was clear, but all they could understand was that there could be something they could do, after all.

“I’ve spent five years there, and it felt like hours, floating... Hope, my.. Well she's my... - Anyway, she was supposed to pull me out of there, but she didn’t!” Scott explained exasperatedly, while he gesticulated on the air with both his bare hands.

The man lost in time, explained how they could easily solve everything up, by trying to travel back in time, using the quantum realm as a bridge. The four persons, that were standing before Scott, stared at him in a mix of confusion and awareness. His idea sounded too good for not even trying to make it work, and although Nat and Bucky were hopeless, Steve and Sam had faith that it could work out.

The normal science class ended in an argument. Bucky did not want to risk anything, and so they all thought the same thing, but after all, that was the best idea they had in years. And it needed a try… So they decided to warn Tony about it, and if he could catch an eye on the project such as Bruce was doing, but although they thought it was going to work out. Stark did not believe the same thing.

Days and weeks passed non stopping, and it finally gave something in return. They’ve made a few experiments, in which any of them could volunteer to, of course. At first, seeing how chaotically bad it worked, the very first tries with Scott, their hope started to go down, but none of them wanted to give in, not just yet. After giving it a few more tries, they decided to take some time off and plan everything, so everyone wouldn’t have any type of ‘last moment’ questions.

“I honestly don't get it. We are going to go back in time to get the stones, but how does that not affect our current timeline?” Clint asked confusedly, leaving everyone speechless and not really sure what to say.

“We are going to travel back to two thousand and thirteen. The stones were in fact, in the same year all together, but not in the same place. Most importantly talking about the power stone, which it’s not even on this planet... The thing here is, if we do in fact, go back in time, and get the stones and we come here with them, It'll be just for a moment, nothing will affect the ecosystem of our current timeline, not even the one we chose to travel to, to get the stones. Because we will return them, just the second after we left with them. And that’s how we are going to win.”

“... We’ll get the stones, ok. But how are we so sure that this will go as planned?” Carol insisted, having her forearms crossed.

“That’s the thing. If we go back in time, the future which is our current timeline changes too, but if we travel back in time just the moment when we changed the past, we’are changing it as well, as returning the stones to their respective places.

However, if we go back to the battle in Wakanda, and we use the stones against Thanos, we’ll win in the past, which affects our current timeline. If we stop Thanos from snapping with the infinity gauntlet, we’ll win.” Tony added, walking towards Bruce, while pointing him with his pen.

“If we win, our current timeline will change… It’ll be as if nothing had ever happened.” Natasha told, her voice soft and careful.

Her eyes were bright, full of hope and life.

“There’s a chance..” Sam nodded surely of himself.

One of the things everyone noticed was that they were having two plans, the first one, on one hand, consisted in returning back in time, and going to different locations to take the stones and then getting everyone back. But the first plan was too risky. Nebula warned everyone that it was going to be impossible to get the soul stone without making a sacrifice, so, they all agreed for the worst, that it was basically in returning back in time but just at the right moment, way beforehand Thanos would’ve arrived in Wakanda. And then fighting side by side with the old version of themselves, and trying to get the soulstone from the great Titan’s gauntlet, use it against him and his army, and then returning the stones. And so it happened, it did slowly, but at least, it succeeded. The easy part was done, they had five of the six stones, and the only thing that was left was returning back to Wakanda. And Steve was not prepared. It was amusing and exciting. They were going to travel back in time, but still, he was not prepared at least not just yet. He was afraid that anything could possibly go wrong, but he would still try. For her, for everyone. One of their biggest fears, was that the old version of themselves wouldn’t accept or understand the situation, but surprisingly it did. It was weird, and it was so easy to guess who was who, because of how grown they already looked in comparison with the five year older version of themselves.Tony and Bruce bothered in explaining as many times, and as with many examples as were possible, their plan to win.

“But how’s Tony here? Where were you, when we were here?” The younger Steve said, then of sudden while staring at Stark in complete confusion.

“In a space donut, trying to control a teenager, having arguments with a magician and trying not to get hit by a moon. Thanks for asking.” Tony added to Rogers’ question, making him frown, being even more confused than before.

“Thanos has no idea that we have planned this... We have the stones, from a completely different timeline. The only thing we need to do, is to take his infinity gauntlet off his hand.” Natasha explained, her words clear as water.

“But you've seen it. He’s huge!” Bruce from the past added this time. His voice sounded altered and nervous.

“That’s my position. I’ll be wearing the infinity gauntlet with the stones we got, so it can be easier for us to win.” Carol told them of sudden making the old versions of themselves, to gaze at her. “I can do it on my own, but it’s better if he’s already distracted.”

That was the last thing that was said, after a big tremor made the building in which they were in, to shake because of the constant vibrations of the ground. It has already started. Proxima Midnight was there, wanting for them to open the floodgates. And so it would happen at some point.

It all happened the same way as it did in the past, or at least it happened. Steve has promised to himself that he wasn’t going to talk with Y/n but not himself, and so he did explain him and made it clear that he should be aware of it, and stop her in time, so he then should go instead of her to Thanos.

“Save her, before he tries to save you.” That was the last thing, Steve ever told him directly. Which left him in complete shock, being specifically, in complete silence. His chin lowered while wondering why would she do it, so. And then he remembered that he would do it for her, because he loves her, and he would prefer to save her than seeing her in pain. He loved her, fondly, and so did she.

The battle went normal, meanwhile the whole team from the past, we’re fighting against Proxima’s army, the Avengers were all placed separately around the whole place. Meanwhile, Carol was waiting for anyone’s signal to then appear. But although they seemed prepared, they were frightened and not so ready after all.

Everyone looked to their right and to their left repeatedly, but they didn’t know when he would appear. But once Steve started to hear his own voice behind him, he knew it was time. The story was respecting itself, but this time they needed to do the right thing.

“On my position, Danvers.” Steve’s hoarse voice sounded through Captain Marvel’s transmission-earpod

“Copy that.” She added, flying straight towards where they were.

But not until Thanos would appear and then approach, she would make a move.

Suddenly, the leaves up in the trees started to slightly move, with the delicate yet suspicious breeze from the other time.

“He‘s approaching.” Sam warned, sounding again through everyone’s transmission-earpods

And he wasn’t mistaken. A sudden purpleish portal appeared from the mere nothing. And when he was already having stepping the ground with his big feet, and was able to see who were going to be the very first victims which he was going to attack, the great Titan noticed that something was wrong and that it didn’t make sense that he was beholding. There was a second copy of almost everyone, and he then wondered if it was a magician trick, such as the one, Doctor Strange did on Titan.

“What the hell?” Thanos mumbled, a confused yet concerning frown marked on his face.

“Now.” Steve told, making the great Titan raise one of his eyebrows incredulity, while both his eyes narrowed.

And then, when he least expected it, everyone stared to distract him. To then Danvers, making one of a glorious yet biggest of her entrances. She flew, straight up to him, making him almost fall.

Both her forearms, choking him from behind while the rest of the group helped her, Thor cut one of his arms off, which made the great Titan let out a rough scream full of pain. He was surrounded, no one could help him. And by seeing how scared he was acting, he deep down really thought that it was going to be his downfall. But then, a few creatures approached, making everyone to stop keeping him distracted to basically fight back.

It all happened so fast, meanwhile some of them still tried to keep him held, while the other half fought, Carol and Thor had a plan which anyone except from them, knew about. One Thanos was about to break free from them, Carol did free him, to then trying to get the infinity gauntlet from the person who was catching an eye on it.

“You. Give it back to me, now.” Thanos told, walking towards Y/n threateningly. The girl just looked at him in a mix of fear and insecurity, not actually knowing what would happen if she didn’t do anything to stop him. And so, she tried to. But, even before Thanos thought of acting, Steve came and went straight to help her just on the right moment, when Thanos was going to exactly blow her with his big armoured fist, changing the events of the future.

The soldier got himself in between, both his hands grabbing Thanos hand, stopping him from hitting her, but, then, him getting punched instead.

“Steve!” She screamed in horror, that he could possibly be dead, by how he fell to the floor. As much as she wanted to, she still stayed still for him, even when all she wanted to do at that moment, was to cup Steve’s face with both her bare hands, while she would caress not only the beard but the scar that was placed right up, in one of his cheekbones.

Everyone did notice about that whole scene, and so they tried to help her, while Wanda did kill all the aliens that wanted to approach. Thanos again, had her just right where she wanted her to be, and he could not wait but to kill her already. But Steve couldn’t let that happen, he was not going to give up. And it wasn’t even an option he wanted to choose. So, he raised one of his arms, while starting to run just straight forward to them. His heart beating way harder than ever before. And so it happened, and once he felt that his fingers touched the wooden material of the body of the big hammer, he ran even faster, and he then cut the Titan’s head in half, leaving everyone in complete shock. But she didn’t give a damn about the situation. She only cared for him, who was still unconscious, lying on the floor.

“Steve…-“ Y/n’s stuttered, her voice low and once her eyes gazed him, she then felt how her heart skipped a bit. She called for him, but he didn’t respond, not even move or make a sudden mumble, which concerned everybody.

The man that wasn’t from that time, kept his eyes locked on her and his own body on the ground, and he felt such as if he was watching a movie, a tragic one, in which the main protagonist did not have the chance to bloom as something else, although they both knew what their feelings for each other were. It was tragic, but also quite too poetic. He travelled back in time, he saved the world, his world, and the girl he loved the most. And even if there weren’t any chances for him to wake up, he was satisfied. But she was broken, a lump formed on the inside of her throat seconds after her feet tripped on the ground to then, bending on her knees to have him closer to her. Y/n glanced at him, she was having a face while she tried so hard to not to cry, but she then burst into tears, anyways.

Everyone looked at him, both his fists were tighten, while he could not help but to stare defeated. He did save her, but if she did lose him instead, he knew it would be her absolute downfall. No one could do anything, only wait. And so they did.

“If I don’t wake up, I’ll desapear, once we get back…” Steve murmured, his voice shy but clear. Making everyone to raise their faces to look straight at him. But when he was already mentally getting prepared to say goodbye, they all heard the button from Steve’s room sounding, letting everyone know that he woke up, after all.

“We should go, now. I’m ok. I woke up! Let’s go.” Steve sounded bossy and dry, a way for making them to follow him outside the building.

He was scared and feeling really insecure of what was probably going to happen, but he needed to leave. And so, he decided to press the button from his suit, not even caring or bothering about the possible consequences of that. He acted selfish, Steve knew it. But he felt pressured, and overwhelmed. He needed to go, leave that place. And so he did it without hesitation.

Once he arrived back to his current timeline, he then noticed that he didn’t end it up on the Avengers compound Base, such as he expected. Instead, he landed on grass. Having a confused frown formed on his face, he then turned on his feet and stared just behind him. There was a house, a little one. And he could not explain exactly why, but it made his heart jump. Then he understood what it could possibly be. Feeling the sudden urge to run, his feet trapped on the floor rapidly, to then approaching to the entry. He walked upstairs towards the door, his pulse getting faster every step he took.

“Y/n?” Steve asked unsure, his heart on his throat.

Suddenly some footsteps approached to the entry, and once he saw her reflection through the glass of the door, his eyes turned cristal. He wasn’t going to look back now, he couldn’t.

“You’re here.” She said, her words sounding soft and little, to then unlocking the door, and opening it for him.

He glanced, she looked way more beautiful than he remembered.

And it was at that moment when he took a step towards her. He placed both his hands on her cheeks, making her to raise her chin, to stare at him in the eyes.

“I missed y-“ Y/n was about to say, but Steve’s lips made her to shut her mouth abruptly.

“I love you.” Steve affirmed, just when their lips got separated, now making her smile. Suddenly, he heard some sounds, it was rapid but little. Footsteps approached fast, and then, he felt how someone grabbed him by one of his legs, making him to immediately lower his head, to look who it was. But once he did, his eyes widened in tears.

“Daddy!” The little boy said, his voice high pitched.

Steve looked at the boy and then to her, then he saw how she carried the one he thought it was his son and placed the boy from around three years old on her arms. Making him to see that she was wearing a shining golden ring on her finger... And it was at that precise moment when he remembered what Tony told him.

“Time is irrelevant in the quentum realm. And if we get the chance to deafest Thanos, will change the future, our timeline... Who knows? Maybe we return back home, and everything’s been changed to better.” Stark explained, unsure of himself while grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.

“...Or worse.” Steve added which made the other man to let out a sigh of tiredness.

The Steve who said that, would have never imagined to be so wrong, but happily, he were.

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neonbluewaves · 5 years ago

Note

Can I request 17-19 with Neon?

Thank u so much anon, specially for asking only three because otherwise these will get sooo long :v

-And then dad told me that I was not allowed to get a piercing. Ever. But it’s my body and I do what I want, you know? Quite literally, too

Neon and Tonks sat on a bench in an empty corridor, the holidays were coming and students were busy packing. Like other years Tonks will cram everything in her trunk last minute and lose a couple of socks on her way to the Express, and like other years, Neon will stay with Nuria in the castle and let the days pass by until classes start again.

-Well you can always ask Jae, he’s known how to do them since year four. But if he tells you he’s giving you a discount don’t trust him, he’ll just give you a high price first and then the actual one so you think he’s being generous.

-Wait, how do you know this? Do you have any piercings?

Neon stares at Tonks for a solid minute before picking all her hair, moving it out of the way so Tonks could see her right ear, showing an industial one at the top, a black ring and a small diamond on the upper lobe and her usual black thick ring at her lobe, then turned her head showing the left ear, an orbital piercing with a small cross and lower on her lobe, again, her characteristic long earring with the three beads and spike.

-I don’t know, Tonks.- she says letting her mane fall down once again. She sticks out her tounge letting her see her last piercing before asking.- do I?

Tonks scratches behind her head embarassed before letting out a small “kinda forgot all that for a moment”. They stay in silence for a while before Tonks opens her mouth again

-So how did your parents react when they saw all those?

She wonders for a moment what to say. The truth obviously not, now’s not the time to open up about dear ol’ mama and papa in a hospital with no notion of the passing time. But saying the haven’t noticed yet won’t do, because they aren’t that hard to see, so instead she just says

-They kinda flipped out but they’re getting used to them.

And Tonks is satisfied with that answer because she just nods. It’s come to a place where Neon feels like Tonks is actually her friend, but she doesn’t share, it’s not her thing, and she doesn’t want her pity, or anyone’s, so she keeps her life as much of a mystery as possible. Then she remembers that year she got Tonks that silly present she found thanks to Peeves. But the thought of her giving Tonks a present that was laying around instead of buying her something now seemed cruel and lazy. Then again back at that year she didn’t really care much about them all. She really had changed huh. Letting out a breath she gets up and holds out her hand for Tonks to take.

-C’mon, let’s go get you that piercing you want, Jae hasn’t packed yet for sure, I’ll pay, it’s my christmas present this year

Tonks gladly takes her hand, a radiant smile on her face, but instead of letting go she uses this to drag Neon towards the common room

-So, do you wanna get any more piercings?- she asks as they practically run through the corridor

-Maybe on the clavicle, who knows, just to be that original

If there’s one thing Tulip learnt quickly, upon meeting Neon Welkin, is that both her and her brother were very hard to guess what they would do or say next. They were a Bertie Bott’s every flavour beans box, obviously full of beans, but you’d never guess what flavors are in there unless you open that box and start tasting every bean.

Both her and Merula had looked everything they had found in Jacob’s room, studied every paper and knew that place like the palm of their hand. But they only saw that. The palm of a hand. Neon got inside that room and took a good look at everything before turning to Tulip and asking “did you find any notebooks? pictures? puzzles?” no, they had not. Just hints that apparently had led them nowhere, since Neon had been the one to enter the othe first Vault before them. She went to a corner, oposite to the entrance while muttering a sad sounding “dissapointing”. She had known Neon for a couple of days and she had managed to irk her with one single word. She picked up a pretty big wooden box and turned it around, broke a small piece from the bottom and a small notebook appeared. “Tadaa” she waved the notebook in front of her face “it was a cute attempt, what you and Merula did, really, very cute.” she scrunched her face in a mocking way, and now Tulip really wished Merula were here to wipe it off, but then she opened the book and showed Tulip a page, talking about some signs he had written and what it could mean, and her tone went from teasing to teaching, and they found some new information by re-arranging some hints. Truly and unexpected surprise.

This time, after two years in this room, they found something that wasn’t related to the Vaults. It quite schocked Neon so she didn’t know what to make of it. It was a picture of a beach. The waves slowly moving towards the sand, and a very pretty woman standing there, holding her staw hat so the breeze doesn’t take it away from her head.

-That’s my mom.- Tulip feels a similar feeling to whiplash. She didn’t imagine her mother to look like that. She didn’t really know how she imagined Mrs.Welkin to look like, honestly. It would have been like Neon, but she had heard before that she looked just like her that, so honestly, there wasn’t anything set in her mind. Still seeing the beautiful young woman looking effortlesly stunning would be shocking for anyone.

-I know this beach, it’s ‘Sainte-Marie’, we went there a couple of times when I was little.

Neon was looking at the photograph with certain sadness and nostalgia. Tulip could picture the woman holding a little Neon near the water so she could splash around a bit.

-What’s your favourite thing to do at the beach? - she asks before she can stop herself. As if Neon would say just like that. It took her a lot to tell her about her parents, she wouldn’t--My brother and I used to make sandcastles, they were terrible, but with some imagination they looked like real life castles. We’d go swimming, looking for seashells or any kind of treasure really, and after that we’d stay under the beach umbrella to play cards with dad and mom, I’d team up with dad and I din’t know what was going on, but we pretended I was the one calling the shots and winning. He told me if I won against him once I had learnt he’d build me a house there.

Tulip had listened to all that in awe, as Neon had been talking the corners of her mouth slightly went up, and her expression softened and her eyes seemed a little wet, shinning like a precious ruby.

-A house there seems lovely.

And Neon bites her lip, because she almost says “then I’ll take you there sometime”.

+ + + + +

-Do you think the average person has the potential to be a hero?

She had read those words somewhere, she didn’t remember where exactly, or when. The question seemed to suddenly pop into her head as she walks up the stairs leaving towards the cursed door guarding the Vault.

The ice had spread throughout the castle, professors, and some students alike, doing their best to help those trapped. Suddenly she realized why that came to mind. Now their safety was in Neon’s hands. Risking oneself to protect others, wasn’t that what heroes did? They thought of what was best for everyone. Was she doing this for that reason, or just the selfish thought of finally finding Jacob, of finally seeing her parents wake from their slumber? She didn’t know. She was too stupid to have answers.

Bill and Penny were right next to her. Were they heroes? they certainly seemed to have the cualities they did. They had agreed to help out of the goodness in their heart, they were kind, good people. She wasn’t that. She was mean and rude, and she got them to help because they had certain abilities she didn’t.

When they had finally managed to open the door, a knight with a sword came out of it, a gust of wind coming from behind him, and in two sweeps with his sword the walking armor does, Bill and Penny find themselves trapped in a chunk of ice.

Neon’s nose and lungs hurt from breathing in the freezing air around the room. She has some frost on her sweater, pants and face. She’s starting to get tired, and the armor is not. It’s not human after all. She’s been holding her ground pretty well if she says so herself, specially for a second year, but she has to stop it soon, or God knows what will be of her companions’ limbs if they stay frozen for long.

Can an average person be a hero? Maybe so. To Neon they looked like average people, living average lives. Maybe Bill and Penny were heroes.

She wasn’t average, and she wasn’t a hero. And right now, as she pointed her wand towards the enemy she decided she was fine with this, because the “heroes” were in need of saving, and Neon was their hope. So screw being a hero, she though, she was extraordinary, a force of nature, unstoppable. And a silly medieval costume could stop two heroes, but it wouldn’t stop Neon Welkin.

#Anonymous #almost didn't write 19 but then I remembered I wrote it for Nuria #writting early Neon/Tulip interactions is fun because they certainly didn't start as besties or anything like that jdgfsdjf #they really grew into each other u_u #have some Neon stuff y'all #neon welkin

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chimchimsauce · 6 years ago

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Sanctuary (14)

YN is a young girl, bright and ambitious, but due to her busy schedule, she’s been unable to make any real friends. When an ad for Saint Mary’s Sanctuary catches her attention, she never expected her life to be changed by a certain hybrid named Jimin.

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Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

As the months turn from fall into winter, the two people occupying the small apartment grow and change, YN withering away under the pressure having to support two adults brings while Jimin seems to blossom, proud of his achievements and blissful fairy tales playing in his head.

Today is the day Jimin will finally reveal his master plan, sweep YN off of her feet just like in the movies. He's noticed how tired she's been the last few weeks and can't help but feel at least some guilt about everything. He's taken it upon himself to keep the house tidy, learning how to do the laundry, dishes, sweep and vacuum, and make dinner. YN is always so grateful for his efforts, making sure to give him extra cuddles. Even though he's convinced the washing machine wants to eat him, he'll battle it every day if it means she'll give him that smile he adores, bring his body close to her own.

Jimin feels an uncomfortable heat come over him as he folds clothes, pulling at his collar slightly. The wolf ignores it, attempting to continue his chore. It's the last thing he had on his to-do list for today, as he's already finished his online university classes and dusted all the furniture. But the uncomfortable feeling continues. When he begins to sweat, he shrugs off his sweater and tosses it onto the bed, rubbing his neck. It doesn't help at all. Jimin continues to feel painfully warm to the point he strips naked and takes an ice cold shower in the middle of winter. It provides no relief and exasperated, the wolf turns off the water, not wanting to run up YN's bill.

YN.

The thought of her brews an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, a coil wrapped too tightly. The heat seems to hone in on his crotch, Jimin nearly doubling over when he accidentally brushes over the area.

When YN finally comes home, she shrieks, finding a lucid Jimin sprawled shirtless on the kitchen tile, mumbling incoherently.

“Jimin!” YN tosses her things to the ground, running to him and pulling him into her lap, shaky hands cradling his face, “Jimin,”

The wolf's eyes open, melted gold shining through.

“YN,” he words are soft, eyes traveling over the girl's face as if he's not convinced she's real.

“What's wrong, Minie? You're absolutely burning up! We need to get you to the doctor,”

Jimin just shakes his head.

“No. No, just stay with me. Let me hold you,” he murmurs, rubbing his face in her hair.

“Jimin, you could be really ill. Let me call Taehyung -”

He growls, frightening her.

“I said no,” he snarls out, pushing up from his position and knocking the poor girl over, draping himself over her, “I need you to help me. It has to be you,”

“Jimin what's gotten into you?”

He doesn't respond, burying his face in her neck. YN tries to move but Jimin whines, a pathetic sounding noise escaping him.

“Please stay. Please. It's so hot,”

It's then when she feels something poking at her thigh, the girl wiggling to escape it. There's a moan, breathy, that escapes Jimin’s open mouth, his eyes flicking up to catch her bewildered gaze.

“Do it again,”

“What?” The girl asks, breathless; He's squishing her.

“Please. Touch me,”

“What's gotten into you, Jimin? You're not being yourself,”

“But I am. I'm being more of myself than I have been before. I want you to touch me. I've imagined it so many times. I just wanna show you how much I love you,”

YN is not sure how to process anything that's going on.

“Let's just get you into bed, okay, Jiminie? I'm sure we can figure this out, alright,”

“There's nothing to figure out, YN. I need you to touch me. Now,”

All evening, it's impossible for YN to go anywhere without Jimin following her, whining and saying some things she would have never believed would come out of his mouth. Finally, when he's knocked out, she escapes his needy clutches, fanning herself. He almost got to her, truly, but she knows something is wrong with him.

Standing out in the freezing cold, both to calm down and to prevent Jimin from hearing her, she dials Taehyung’s number.

“Hello?” He asks, sounding very cheery.

“Tae,” she says, teeth chattering, “I need your help. Something’s wrong with Jimin,”

“What? What's going on?” He asks, sounding concerned.

“He's been really clingy, literally climbing onto me. And saying some . . . things. Really erotic things, oh my God. He's burning up,”

Tae is silent for a moment.

“Is he not neutered?” A pause.

“Is he not what??”

“Shit, YN, this is bad,”

“What's bad? What's going on? What's wrong with him?”

“He's in heat,”

“Like a dog? What?”

“Um,” he says, some rustling in the background, “Usually, hybrids don't go into heat. Like ever. Back when he was at Saint Mary's, he said he never went into heat, this shouldn't be happening. Let me do some research,”

“What do I do now?”

“That's up to you. But either he gets help, or this lasts for three weeks or so. I’ll call you in the morning and tell you what I found but be careful. He's a wolf right now, all the way”

“YN! BABY? WHERE ARE YOU?” YN hears Jimin shout from inside.

He must have woken up.

It's gonna be a long night.

When she returns to the frightened looking wolf, his face instantly relaxes, the man gathering her into his arms.

“Don't disappear like that. You scared me,” he says, cuddling her close, “And you're so cold,”

For a moment, YN allows herself to melt into his embrace, his usual caring self shining through at the moment.

“I'm okay, Minie. I really am. I should be worried about you, not the other way around,”

He follows closely behind her as she walks back into their bedroom, the man dragging her down onto the sheets.

“Don't worry, Jimin, I'll help you,”

His eyes open wide like saucers before they narrow, an air of arrogance surrounding him. He grins at the girl, fingers finding her hips.

“No, I mean, get you help. I'll get you help, Minie,” YN says, ignoring the tingle in her stomach and pushing his hands away.

“You're the only one who can help me,” He says, hands pressing into her thighs.

“Tae told me what's going on with you, sweetheart. I know you can't help what you're feeling or saying right now,” she says, refusing to meet his golden eyes, “First thing in the morning, we'll get you whatever you need. You just have to make it through the night, okay?”

He's not listening to her, not at all.

“Please? It hurts. So much, everything hurts, YN please help me. Please,”

She wants to crumble. She really does. A small part of her, a part she doesn't like to admit she has, wishes that this was genuine, that Jimin really did feel the way he did, that he was her boyfriend, not just someone she's giving asylum. It's the way he treats her. Kindly, warmly, lovingly. Every day she comes home, Jimin is waiting at home with cuddles, asking about her day. And him, himself. Jimin is such a bright, sweet, and smart person. She really couldn't help crushing on him.

But that's just the way he is.

So she won't touch him, no matter how much she wants to. She doesn't want to cross any permanent lines, hurt herself or hurt Jimin.

When it's clear her words aren't getting through to him, she captures his hands together, bounding them together with the scarf she's wearing.

“This is kinky,”

“No, this is me making sure you don't do something you'll regret,”

He looks up at her, some foreign feeling dancing in his eyes.

Effortlessly, he undoes the shoddy knot, grasping her hands and squeezing gently.

“I won’t regret anything, baby. I'll help you too. I swear,”

“I don't need help, Jimin. Let's just go to sleep, okay? Just sleep,”

“Can I cuddle you? Please? At least this much,”

Wordlessly, she allows her wolf to gather her in his arms, ignoring the way he has her butt planted firmly against him, his warmth rendering a blanket unnecessary.

Chapter Fifteen

#bts #jimin #networkbangtan #bts x reader #jimin x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #hybrid bts #werewolf bts #hybrid jimin #jimin angst #jimin fluff

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snickerl · 8 years ago

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Elixir Vitae

AU fanfic set around the time of IWTB.

A/N: This story is coming to a close now, this is why it’s taken me so long to get this last chapter done. As always, I’m a bit sad to finish a story, but also looking forward to writing new stuff.

Find previous chapters here: Chapter I / Chapter II / Chapter III / Chapter IV / Chapter V / Chapter VI / Chapter VII / Chapter VIII / Chapter IX / Chapter X / Chapter XI / Chapter XII

Full story here: (X)

Chapter XIII

She's weirdly withdrawn on our way home. Something's not right. She's been staring through the window without blinking for most of our trip and hasn't said a word since we left the precinct. My eyes shoot back and forth between her and the road in front of us. Her hands are clenched into fists on her lap. When I cover them with mine I almost flinch because they're cold as ice. I shortly direct my eyes back to the road ahead of us to make sure we're not drifting off before I look at her again. Her breathing has become rapid and shallow, she's almost hyperventilating I'd say, being the medical layman I am. I've never seen her like this.

"What's the matter, Scully?"

"I...I don't know," she answers feebly. "My heart's racing and my fingers are tingling."

One quick, hasty glance onto the road, then my eyes are fixed on her again. Her face is so pale. What is going on here?

"Five more minutes, Scully, then we're home," I tell her when I turn off the main road. I stop the car in front of the fence to our property. I observe her through the windshield while I operate the heavy metal gate. Within the few seconds it took me to exit the car and open it, her condition has become even worse. I realize that her hands are now pressed to her chest and I literally jump back into the car.

"Scully," I scream frantically, "what's wrong with you?"

"My chest. It aches."

"Are...are you having a heart attack?"

"No, I don't think so," she croaks, "this is something else, but I don't know what." She fusses with her blouse and more or less rips it open, I see at least one button flying through the air. "I'm so hot!"

Hot? Her hands were freezing cold just a few moments ago. I'm getting really scared now. What if this is a heart attack after all? We're miles away from the next doctor, and it takes an ambulance at least 30 minutes to get here. If she passes out, I'll be on my own.

I floor the gas pedal. Scully groans when the car lifts off a ground wave and hits the road hard again. I've never made it this fast from the gate to the house, I didn't even bother to close it behind us, which has never happened before.

I kill the engine, jump out of the car and open the passenger door.

"Can you walk?"

"I think so."

She offers me her hand and I pull her out of the car.

"The fresh air will do you good, Scully. Take a deep breath."

She leans her whole body against the car and closes her eyes, making no move to head for the porch.

"Do you want me to carry you?"

"Don't be silly, Mulder," she retorts, albeit with less insistence than I'm used to, "I'm fully capable of walking these few steps."

I'm glad to notice that she's still herself, although I'm not really convinced she's not overestimating her strength. I walk right next to her, ready to intervene and catch her any second. She's unsteady but determined to make it to the front door on her own feet. I miss to get the key into the lock twice before I manage to snap it open, then I push the door so hard, it crashes against the wall inside.

I walk over to the couch and brush the pillows away to make room for her to lie down. "Get over here, Scully," I urge her. When she's not coming, I look up and realize she's still standing on the porch, holding on fiercely to the banister.

"I'm so dizzy all of a sudden. I think I'm gonna faint," she whispers hardly audible.

I fly over to her and sweep her off her feet. So, I'm carrying my wife over the threshold a second time in a few months, but, honestly, in my imagination, I'd pictured it much more romantic, both times.

I lower her gently down on the couch and put a cushion under her head.

"No," she pants, "under my legs. The blood needs to flow back."

I do as I'm told and kneel beside her head. A few strands of hair cling to her clammy face and I brush them away. Drops of cold sweat appear on her forehead and her breathing becomes shallow and quick again.

"Scully, try to breathe in as slowly and deeply as you can. Through your nose. Come on, with me. In..." she follows my instruction, "and out through your mouth."

The air leaves her lungs, still too fast, but a bit more controlled than before. I continue to coach her through the exercise, "in...one-two-three-four-five. And out...one-two-three-four-five. Focus on your breathing, Scully. You can do it."

It takes a few minutes and several rounds of breathing in and out, but eventually, she seems to get better. She opens her eyes, and the look in them is not as frantic and terrified anymore.

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Slightly."

"Tell me what I can do to help you."

"Something cold would be nice."

"No problem, hold on a second."

I rush over to the kitchen and soak one of the towels in cold water. When I return, I dab her forehead and temples.

"Aah, that's good, Mulder."

She takes the cloth from me and puts it to her throat and cleavage. She exhales heavily and in phases through her open mouth, still working hard to get her breathing under control. The worst anxiety seems to be gone but her movements are still agitated. Her legs are shaking and her eyes flicker restlessly.

"Shhh, Scully, you're doing good. Just keep breathing. I'm here, you're not alone."

I try to be reassuring and firm. I resume my kneeling position and stroke her hair. I feel her lean into my hand when I caress her cheek, so I dare expand my ministrations. I put one hand on her lower arm and the other on her thigh which is still twitching. I feel the muscles spasm even through her pants.

Slowly, very slowly, the symptoms of whatever that has been are on the wane. Her limbs stop trembling, her breathing returns to a normal rhythm, her eyes aren't empty anymore but focus on me. She shakes her head in disbelief. "That was so unreal, Mulder, like I was watching myself from a distance. I felt completely disconnected from myself and there was nothing I could do against it."

"What was this? I've never seen you like this, Scully."

I've seen her dying of cancer, shot, almost frozen to death, in a coma, but never in a tailspin like this.

"It might have been a panic attack," she diagnoses herself.

"A panic attack?"

Scully in a state of panic? The concept sounds odd to me, Scully never panics. She's daring and bold, methodical and poised. How often has she stood her ground in a hairy situation? I've never seen her paralyzed by fear.

"Episodes of panic attacks can occur at any time, even during sleep. There is every indication that it was a panic attack, the dizziness, breathing difficulties, hot flashes, chest pains, the sense of terror and loss of control."

"The lineup triggered it, didn't it? I should've never allowed it," I berate myself. "You weren't stable enough to go through a mental strain like that."

"Mulder," she cups my cheek, "I had to do it. I was in law enforcement for too long to let the chance slip away to pin down a murderer."

I kiss her forehead. "You can be proud of yourself. Thanks to you, that son of a bitch will be put on trial and hopefully rot in hell afterward."

She smiles weakly. He hand falls back on her chest, powerless. "I feel so worn out."

I remove the cushions from under her legs and put one under her head before I spread a blanket over her body.

"Close your eyes, Scully, and have some sleep. I'll watch out for you."

"Thank you," she murmurs, and already succumbing to sleep, she adds, "love you."

She must be really exhausted because now that the panic has subsided she drifts off quickly and I'm glad for the soothing and healing effect sleep will have on her. Her last words make me feel warm all over, though. She loves me.

I lift her head and slip myself under it, pulling it into my lap. I look at her face. Her delicate features have finally relaxed, the sharp line between her eyebrows is gone and her forehead is smooth again. Her jaws have slackened off, her lips aren't pressed together anymore but are slightly parted. Her lower lip is a bit swollen. She must've bitten it hard, there's some dried blood. She rests peacefully now, her eyes absolutely still under the lids. No fluttering, no twitching, no shaking anywhere in her body. Sleeping beauty right here in my lap.

It's like the quiet after the storm. My own body has been flooded with adrenaline I'm only slowly getting rid of. I feel my pulse going back to normal and my breathing mirroring her calm rhythm.

After a while, my thoughts start wandering. I recap today's events which have led us to this very moment. What does it mean for us that her ordeal has come back to Scully? Is it another step forward or will it throw her back again? The traumatic memories coming with it have the potential to further solidify the amnesia, although we still don't know what exactly had caused it in the first place.

My mind wouldn't stop at Pete calling me this morning, it pulls me further back in time. Moments are popping up in my head I haven't thought of in years. Like when this creepy writer, my short-term neighbor at my Alexandria apartment, told me Scully couldn't fall in love because she already was in love. To this day I can't believe how dim I was, asking myself who that lucky guy might be. Or when she threw me that look across the dance floor at the high school reunion of that unfortunate weather announcer, the one who created thunderstorms whenever someone hit on his secret love. That look of hers, that smile! Boy, at that moment, all I wished was that this was our high school reunion and she was my prom date.

I close my eyes and another situation creeps back to me. I'm beamed back to when I was strapped to a hospital bed, considered to be a danger to everyone who came near me. I remember feeling so helpless, defenseless against the accelerated brain activity I was suffering from that would eventually kill me. When I heard her voice outside in the hallway, demanding to see me, letting nothing and nobody keep her from checking up on me, immense relief flooded my entire body because I knew she'd get me out of this. For the umpteenth time, I was immensely grateful to have her in my life. 'I'm his doctor,' she said but she was actually my guardian angel, my savior.

Why am I walking down memory lane like this? How come these long-forgotten incidents are pushing themselves to the forefront just now? To remind me how precious they are? To rub my nose into how big of a loss it is to lack them? You can't miss what you don't know, right? There are a lot of memories I could do without, though. Me holding Scully at gunpoint, for example. Me treating her like shit after I'd woken up from the dead also falls into this category as is saying goodbye to William and her.

Stop it, Mulder! Stop making this about you!

I glance at the grandfather clock on the mantlepiece and can hardly believe two hours have gone by. No wonder my legs have fallen asleep, making themselves felt with a tingling sensation. I can no longer sit still, I have to move.

I cautiously slip my legs out from under her head and replace them with a thick cushion. She stirs a little, a silent moan escapes her chest, but fortunately, sleep is holding her firmly in its grip. I wouldn't have forgiven myself if I had woken her up. What're two tingling legs compared to the aftermaths of a severe panic attack? But her chest is rising and falling in a steady, slow rhythm and she looks relaxed and peaceful. I might as well leave her alone for a moment and run some errands. She deserves to be spoiled tonight with a home cooked meal and some Häagen Dasz.

In the following one-and-a-half hours, I break the second record today: I've never rushed through the grocery store at a lightspeed like this, pulling items randomly out of the shelves and throwing them into my cart passing by. I line-jump at the cashier, yelling at the customers in the queue and flashing my badge. I burn home on autopilot mode and curse the squeaking sound I elicit when I open the front door. My heart beat stops for a moment when I find her sitting upright on the couch.

Good grief, if she had another panic attack and I wasn't there. My insides convulse.

"Hey," I say gently not to startle her, putting the grocery bags on the floor.

She turns her head and...smiles. Thank God, she looks much better.

"Hey," she says back, sounding a bit groggy but collected.

I place myself next to her on the couch and examine her face for any remains of the terror that were there a few hours ago, and I'm relieved I'm not seeing any.

"Everything alright here?" I ask. "You were fast asleep when I left. I wasn't gone for much more than an hour."

"I'm fine."

When she realizes that this line is not particularly suited to calm me, she adds a reassuring, "really, Mulder, I'm okay."

"That was frightening, Scully. I thought you were having a heart attack."

"I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention to scare you. I've never had anything like it before." She looks at me and in her eyes I see some of the residues the experience left behind after all. "It felt like I was going crazy like I was losing my mind. I was scared too, Mulder, believe me."

"Yeah, I can imagine. I wonder what that asshole Herman did to you that seeing him upset you that much."

"Seeing him actually wasn't the problem. The attack would've struck me in the precinct if it was, but the pressure in my chest didn't start to establish itself until we were on the way home, when I was contemplating in the car."

"Contemplating? Contemplating what?"

"What he kept telling me."

What does she mean by that? Telling her what? And when? In what setting? If Jensen had left her alone with him...the thought alone lets my right hand clench into a fist.

"I don't understand, Scully. Do you mean what Officer Jensen told him to say in the lineup? He didn't let him talk to you one-to-one, did he?" I clench my fist so hard, my knuckles turn white.

She moves her body to sit opposite me, takes my fist in her hand and unfolds my fingers gently one after the other. "No, there was no direct contact with him." She talks to me without meeting my eyes, staring at our now entwined fingers. "And I didn't mean what he said in the lineup. That was just some meaningless sentence. I remembered what he said to me when he was holding me captive."

"You remember something from the time you were with him?" I'm just trying to make sure because her nod is hardly visible and she's still not looking at me. "But that's wonderful, Scully!" I shriek, struggling to keep my exhilaration at bay which threatens to go overboard despite her more than restrained reaction.

"Wonderful? Well," she pauses for a moment and licks her lips before the continues, "he said that you were next door, that you were his captive just like I was, and that he was doing terrible things to you. It was horrible, Mulder."

"You believed him?"

"Not at the beginning, no, but when you're told day after day after day that the most dreadful things are done to the person you love more than anyone, eventually, the day comes you start asking yourself 'What if he's telling the truth?' I couldn't fight the pictures of you next door, Mulder. Beaten up. With broken fingers, pulled toenails, cigarette burns. Not allowed to eat and drink properly, let alone sleep. Being told I was raped, which I wasn't. It was killing me. It was so demoralizing and grueling that from a certain point onward, I couldn't ignore his stories anymore. They became a reality, and every day, I died a little more fearing for you, believing you were in so much agony."

I'm in a state of agony now, listening to her.

"One day, he showed up with a syringe in his hand, telling me he was going to launch the ultimate strike. I didn't realize it was meant for me until I felt the needle penetrate my skin. I remember the burning sensation," she strokes up and down her left upper arm, "and then everything went black." She buries her face in her hands. "Oh my God, Mulder, he injected me with something, a chemical substance, to make me lose my memory. Not to protect himself, to keep me from testifying against him, but to hit you."

"He wanted to take you away from me. He knew it would hit me harder than my own death. He was sick enough to be incapable of killing a woman who didn't correspond to his usual pattern, so he left her out in the cold to freeze to death. And just to make sure in case that wouldn't happen, that pervert filled her up with a drug of some sort to make her forget who she was in love with. That is so unbelievably insidious and heinous, it makes me nauseous."

"He reached his goal," she reminds me in a tearful voice, "you were hit."

"This is not about what he did to me, Scully, this is only about what he did to you. I'm being honest when I say I obtain satisfaction from the fact that he must know it was you who identified him today. He couldn't see you through the one-way mirror but he knew exactly who was standing on the other side of it, pointing her finger at him. He knew he killed all his victims but one."

I can't sit still anymore. To channel my inner unrest I get up and get a glass of water from the tap in the kitchen. On my way back to the couch, something else comes to mind.

"You have to talk to your therapist and tell her about the lineup and the panic attack. Maybe, we should've asked her whether you were in a condition to face him before agreeing to do it."

I hand her the glass. She takes a sip, passes it back to me, then folds her hands on her lap.

"There's something else I have to tell her," she says somewhat withdrawn.

Oh?

I look at her expectantly, but no words are coming out of her mouth. Will this be a recurring pattern from now on that she implies something, but denies any further explanation?

"Which. Is. What?" I cringe at how impatient I sound.

"Seeing him today has initiated the recollection of the time he had me under his control, that's how I was able to identify him. The panic attack, however, seems to have loosened some kind of major block in my brain."

Okay, and that means...?

Talk to me, Scully!

If she doesn't start talking now, I'm going to strangle her. My pulse has skyrocketed and both my legs are bobbing in a nervous staccato. I take it she needs time to process all of this herself, to put it in perspective, to evaluate the circumstances, but I'd really and truly appreciate if she let me into her world of thought.

"What block, Scully?"

I've scraped together as much of emotional control as possible not to scream at her. My composure is about to shatter into pieces any second. And then, just when I'm on the brink of letting my frustration erupt from my body, she whispers, "the block that locked up my memory."

"The block...that locked up...your memory," I repeat stupidly.

"You understand what I'm trying to say, Mulder?"

Are you fucking kidding me?

"No, Scully, actually, what you've been throwing me here are nothing but stripped bones. Am I supposed to read your mind? I know I was once quite skilled in doing that, but lately, I have no idea what's going on in your head."

Tears are brimming in her eyes.

Shit, I made her cry! I'm such an asshole drowning in my own self-pity!

"No, don't cry please," I try to soothe her. I stroke her cheeks and the tears begin to fall, leaving wet streaks on her skin. She starts sobbing violently and doesn't even try to control her emotions, which seen individually is so unlike her. I haven't seen her cry this hard very often, if ever.

"Dana, I'm-"

"It's okay, Mulder," she hiccups breathlessly, "these are happy tears."

"Happy?"

"My memory...it's back. That's what I've been trying to tell you."

I don't know what to say. She wouldn't make a joke about it, would she? The matter's too serious for a joke. Did she have to go through the hell of a panic attack to get her memories back? Would that be like a positive side-effect of the ordeal, because it was an ordeal, for her as well as for me.

"Don't you believe me? I'm not joking."

Apparently, my having difficulties reading her mind doesn't mean she's not fully capable of reading mine.

"When I woke up, I felt so strange. My mind was in an uproar, I couldn't control my thoughts. They were wandering around and I couldn't tell them to stop. I was flooded with images and I just couldn't stop it. Like when you put too much corn into the popcorn maker and the popcorn keeps popping out although you've switched it off already."

"Salted, I hope." One look into her face tells me that she doesn't appreciate being interrupted, especially not by a joke that lame. "Sorry. That's...good, isn't it?"

"Yes! Yes, it is! I was trying to make sense of it while you were away and it took me a while until I realized that those weren't random images my brain produced as a result of the panic attack but...memories. Real memories."

Her eyes are watery but also beaming in a way. She takes them off of me and directs them past me to a point somewhere outside in the distance. Her vision seems to go slightly out of focus so that I doubt she's actually looking at something. I can literally see the flurry behind her forehead, the energy of synapses reconnecting and nerve pathways passing on information. The corners of her mouth rise into a small lovely smile and her eyes are filling with more tears. I can only speculate what kind of images are pushing themselves forward just now.

"William," she sobs eventually, confirming my hunch.

I close my eyes and heave a heavy sigh. Memories of William. Of course. What else?

"No, it's okay, Mulder." She looks at me with clear but watery eyes. "I'd forgotten my baby," she hiccups and takes my breath away with it, "and I have him back now. I no longer have only two-dimensional images of him, stories you told me or the eight photographs we have of him, but my own personal memories of how it felt to hold him. What it was like to nurse him. How he smelt. What his laugh sounded like."

Wow!

"I knew you were kissing me when we brought him home. Knowing is a cognizant act, Mulder, something you do with your brain. But now I remember how sweet that kiss tasted, how happy we were. As a family. How elated I was at that particular moment. That's feeling, Mulder, and it has nothing to with the brain but only with the soul and the heart. "

"We were very happy, Scully, but we weren't granted to be a family for long," I state flatly, unable to share her elation.

"I know. After that, there was mainly pain. But...wasn't it worth it, Mulder?"

I don't know what she means, and I guess my face is showing my bewilderment because she goes on explaining. "My memories were erased and gone. They were lost to me, the good ones as well as the bad ones. The bad ones only feel so bad because of the good ones. You can only lose something you once had. Would you have rather relinquished having him to spare you the pain losing him has forced on you? Because that's exactly what happened to me, Mulder. I'd forgotten I ever had a son and with it the pain associated with his adoption was also gone, and you probably thought this was a good thing,"

She knows me so well.

"but I'd also forgotten how happy I was as a mother. His mother."

Her facial expression changes all of a sudden. I take it another memory is fighting its way back into her consciousness, and I just hope it's not what I believe it is. But then she puts her hands to her mouth and a silent cry slips out of her throat, and I'm pretty sure it's exactly what I've feared.

"Emily," she whispers.

I groan inwardly. How many good emotions can be related to that little girl? If any at all?

"I had a daughter!"

She stares at me, her eyes full of cognizance, but also full of questions, one of which she poses right away. "Why have you never told me anything about her?"

"Because it's a sad story through and through, Scully. Actually in a way even sadder than William's. You didn't know she was your daughter until she was terminally ill, and there was nothing you could do to save her. They wouldn't even let you adopt her, although she was orphaned and you were her biological mother. All you were allowed to do was witness her suffering. She died in your arms only shortly after you found out who she was."

The usually fine lines between her brows are deep and prominent now. I can only imagine how hard it is to recollect your past piece by piece as if you were putting together a million-pieces puzzle.

"She was created with my ova, right? I think I'm getting it. That X-File you made me read about my abduction..." Her hands go to her temples, wedging her head between her palms as though to keep the memories inside which threaten to disappear again. "They not only gave me cancer, they also harvested my ova. That was how I ended up barren, that was no ordinary Premature Ovarian Failure. And that's why we tried IVF and why William's conception was so unexpected. We didn't use protection because we thought I couldn't get pregnant, right? Having been conceived naturally by a barren woman, that's what made him a miracle, isn't it?" She drops her hands and lays her eyes on mine again, pleading with me, "you weren't lying to me when you told me we made him the old-fashioned way, right?"

Her troubled expression lets my heart freeze.

"No, I didn't lie to you. William was a child of our love."

"And Emily?"

"You got it all right, Scully. She was your biological daughter, but you didn't give birth to her. She was part of that sick plan you and I had been drawn into with the X-Files. It was something I thought I could protect you from after your amnesia. When I wasn't telling you the full truth about things, it was only to spare you what had already hurt you once. I didn't see any need to let it hurt you again."

She cups my face, and I gladly notice that her hands are still and warm. "I know, Mulder, and I love you for it. But you know what? I can't have only the good memories back, it's either all or nothing. I remember you beside me at Emily's service, and that's a good memory. I recall having a beautiful daughter, and I remember having a miraculous son. My life was blessed with two children, and although they're both not with me anymore, I still am a mother. And that's a wonderful feeling."

"So wonderful it makes you cry," I say, brushing a tear off her cheek. "Don't tell me these are happy tears."

"No, they're not. I am sad...but now I know what to mourn. Before there was just a black void, a huge nothingness I couldn't relate to. I felt the pain, and the grief, and a lot of anger inside me, but I didn't know why I was feeling this way. I'm so grateful for having my life back, with all its highs and lows. Herman took my life away with inflicting the amnesia on me, but somehow, he also gave it back to me today."

"With making you go through a panic attack? That's a weird way of seeing it."

If I ever had the chance, I'd beat the living daylights out of that sick son of a bitch.

She takes my hands in hers and squeezes them tenderly. "He's not important anymore. It's only us I care about. Promise me to leave him alone, Mulder."

She really knows me well.

"Promise!" she insists. "I don't want to see you thrown into prison for violent assault of a detainee. He's not worth it."

"Scout's honor," I say with my right hand up, and although there might come a moment where keeping my promise will be difficult, I mean it from the bottom of my heart. The last thing I want for her is to fear for me. I don't want her to fear for anything or anyone ever again.

"Thank you," she says, before she settles herself in my embrace, her cheek on my chest and her arms around my waist.

I engage her into a fierce hug, pulling her so close I'm almost afraid to suffocate her, but she doesn't complain. Her body melts into mine and I hear her sigh into my chest.

"I remember everything, Mulder," she whispers, and with a bit more emphasis, she repeats, "everything."

Her voice is a whisper, trembling with excitement, but smooth as velvet. She pulls away and her gaze wanders to a point behind me again as if there was a screen where the images of her life were popping up on for her to watch. The hint of a smile appears on her face.

"Your proposal," she gasps, "you proposed to me in a rental car, riding an endless highway through the Midwest." She releases a short chuckle shaking her head in consternation. "How apt!"

Her eyes meet mine again and I see amusement in hers.

"Yeah, well, that wasn't very romantic, I know. Unforgivable. You'd deserved two dozens of red roses and champagne with it, all I had to offer was stale coffee in a styrofoam cup and a Snickers bar. No flowers, not even buttercups."

"Don't be silly, it was perfect! It was so...so us," she giggles. "How you stepped on the brake once I'd said yes and jumped out of the car to shout it out to the desert for nobody to hear...that was romantic."

"You found that romantic?"

I remember exactly how I feared my chest might burst because the bliss within me expanded so rapidly. She'd said somewhat en passant 'yes, Mulder, I marry you' with her eyes glued to the straight road in front of us, and I had somehow been overcome with such an urging need to shout it out to the world that Dana Katherine Scully, M.D. and former Special Agent with the FBI, wanted for aiding and abetting a convicted murderer, had really and truly agreed to marry me.

"Yes, you were kinda cute in your boyish joy. Did you really think I'd say no?"

"Well, the first time I asked, you said I wasn't being very helpful."

Her eyes widen. She really does remember everything obviously, even the fleeting moment I popped the question completely out of the blue while she was consulting with me about a case over the phone. "You were really being serious that time you asked while I was on vacation in Maine? I thought my endless recital of the black arts had made you so dizzy that you didn't know what you were saying."

"I knew exactly what I was saying. And yes, you'd definitely made me dizzy. In the best sense of the word," I say with a grin.

"Jesus, Mulder, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

"Would you have said yes? Then? If my plea had been expressed less ambiguously?"

"Who knows," she replies in a tone that adds an unspoken 'probably', and butterflies are fluttering in my stomach.

I've asked myself many times what would've happened if we hadn't waited so long, clinging to a professional platonic partnership instead of confiding in each other and marrying years earlier. If we had quit the Bureau, leaving the darkness behind, would we be a typical American family now? Loving husband and wife with an adorable son? Did we ever have a real chance for a life like this?

"William wouldn't have been born out of wedlock," I hear myself say.

Fuck, Mulder, don't you have anything better to do than rubbing salt into this particular wound again?

"I'm sorry, Scully, for coming back to him over and over."

"No, it's okay. Don't apologize for mentioning him. He's our son, our love child." She sighs. "God, Mulder, we haven't talked about him much, have we? I don't want to withhold his existence anymore, I want him to be a part of our lives. I want to feel free to think of him, speak of him. I want to imagine what he looks like, what his favorite sport is, how he'd react in a certain moment. What his life is like."

"You haven't been ready to contemplate any of these questions so far, Scully. We mainly avoided talking about him. We thought it was a way to rule the pain, to make it manageable."

"But it kept fighting back."

"It sure did. With a vengeance."

She acknowledges my last remark with a simple confirming hum, leaving us both staring silently at each other.

The feeling of loss has always been there, dragging the pain in its wake. It's like a tinnitus, an ongoing sound in my ear, keeping me from sleep at night, and it's feeding me mercilessly with the facts I'm fully aware of anyway: 'he's gone, he's someone else's son now, he will never get to know you.' I can only imagine what the voice inside Scully's ear is saying to her. I bet it's reproachful and unforgiving and assuring the cut in her heart never heals.

"How do you picture him, Mulder?"

I can't believe she's asking me this, and what dumbfounds me even more is that I don't see a Scully riven by grief and guilt in front of me but one with a dreamy gaze and a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

What a heartwarming sight!

I let my mind travel to a possible image of my son. "He's a gangling 8-year-old who has lost all his baby fat due to extensive basketball practice. He's a Kicks fan, for sure." I hope he is. "He's got my height and your complexion, my obsession with things and your tenacity." A perfect combination of us both. "He drops his bike in the driveway, much to his father's chagrin, and always tries to weasel himself out of the household chores his mother tells him to get done. He loves pancakes soaked in maple syrup and pizza."

"With or without mushrooms," the mushroom lover in this house asks.

"I don't know. How much pizza with mushrooms did you have when you were pregnant? They say a mother transfers her cravings to the baby if she has a certain food a lot during a pregnancy."

"I ate healthily, Mulder."

"That means with mushrooms, I figure, to tip the scale more to the veggie side," I conclude and elicit a smile from her.

"That means no pizza," she answers, sending her right eyebrow up her forehead.

"No, of course not! What have I been thinking? Pizza, hmfff...Let's see. Salad with mushrooms? Stuffed mushrooms? Mushroom pie?"

"Some if it, yes. I had a wonderful recipe for spelt mushroom risotto."

"Yuck, no! Spelt? Seriously, Scully?"

"Contrary to bee pollen, there is scientific proof that spelt, if part of a balanced, healthy diet, has a very positive effect on both the mother and the baby."

"Ah, Scully, always the scientist, and a responsible expectant mother beyond all measure. I should've known," I say while I cup her face to place a soft kiss on her lips. "You never gave in to any cravings?"

"I might've had a chocolate donut once in a while," she admits, pursing her lips and chewing the inside of her cheek, swallowing the words rather than actually articulating them clearly for me to hear. "When my blood sugar level was too low," she then adds in a defensive afterthought and I have to bite my tongue now not to laugh right into her straight face.

"Sure. Only when your blood sugar was too low. Those were therapeutic donuts, so to say."

"So to say."

I smile and nod.

We never had such a lighthearted conversation involving William. Until now, we've tiptoed around him, avoiding the subject and anything remotely related to it, but just a minute ago, she started a conversation about him and didn't even backtrack when her pregnancy came up, a particularly sensitive topic as it covers one of the worst time spans of her life; as of mine, actually, I was lying in a coffin, six feet under.

Is this what they mean when they say that nothing happens without a reason? Is this new way of dealing with the loss of our child something we gain from what we had to go through since that psychopath has taken her?

I see a Scully standing in front of me who is relaxed and elated, who apparently enjoys talking about her son and her pregnancy, who's even engaged me in a little banter, and it's uplifting me more than I would've ever expected. It's like a harness has been taken off my chest, a straitjacket loosened allowing me to finally fill my lungs with enough oxygen to resuscitate my broken heart.

Was it really necessary for Scully to go through an abduction, mental abuse, drug-related amnesia, and a panic attack to make us understand that rejoicing over having been blessed with a miracle baby brings us closer to a content, happy life than hiding our grief from each other and silently crying over him by ourselves?

It apparently was. Damn.

"I'd like to do something special on his birthday next month," she surprises me yet again and puts an end to the pondering silence.

"What do you have in mind?"

"I don't know. A day at the beach, maybe. Or a fancy dinner."

"Hmm."

Come on, Mulder, think! You can come up with something better than that!

"What if I took you to the Smithsonian Air and Space? They're having a traveling exhibit about the restoration of the Starship Enterprise. I hear it's well worth seeing. I bet he," no need to mention who I'm talking about, "would love to go. If you're good, in the end, you may even pick something from the gift shop."

A mocking snort slips out of her mouth. "Like what? A mug or a Tee with some kind of idiotic phrase on it, like 'live long and prosper'?"

Aaaah, how I love that sheepish smirk on her face when she's in a bantering mood.

"Nah, I'd go for a license plate frame. One that says 'second star to the right, then straight on 'til morning'."

I chuckle.

"I won't let you put something this silly on our car."

"Not even if I get us a new license plate saying SCTBMEUP?"

"No way! Uh-uh!" She stresses her words by banging her head so vehemently her hair flies through the air.

I decide to take this even further putting on my legendary pout. I've cultivated my skills at this to perfection, so I stick my bottom lip out, far, but not too far to overdo and make it look fake, letting my chin wrinkle slightly as I do this. Then I drop my head a tiny bit, not too much, as I want her to see my best puppy eyes peer up at her. I slouch my shoulders a little and loosely cross my arms in front of my chest. My voice is silent and flat when I finally mumble, "you're not nice."

Now she's the one who chuckles. Actually, she laughs wholeheartedly.

"Stop being eight yourself, Mulder." She shakes her head, obviously amused by my little performance. "It sounds like a wonderful idea, though, regardless, of your Star Trek fetish. If I'm allowed to stroll through the museum bookstore instead of the gift shop, you're on."

"You're allowed to stroll around wherever you want, Scully, as long as we're holding hands."

She tilts her head to one side and smiles at me. "You're adorable."

I can't but feel slightly proud of myself. I love it when applying my pouting bottom lip turns out to be this successful. I made her utter words of endearment, that's all I wanted.

I pull her towards me. "You're quite adorable yourself."

"Am I?"

"Yup!"

"Exactly how adorable?"

"Very."

"That's not exact, Mulder!"

"Is 'to the moon and back' better?"

"Hmm."

"You need more quantification?"

"I'm a scientist, I need proof."

"I see. Like a display of my adoration?"

"Would you be able to deliver a corresponding verification? One that might satisfy a scientist?"

"Like something tangible?"

"Uh huh. Something for me to see, hear or feel."

"Oookay, let me think."

I pull her yet a little closer.

"This is for you to see." My eyes find hers and I'm doing my best to let mine show her what I'm feeling at this very moment.

Then I put my mouth to her ear and breathe, "this is for you to hear: My adoration for you is indefinite, Scully, which to a scientist means without any upper or lower limits." I know that I'm at a very erogenous zone of hers and that I'm tickling her with my hot breath, but I don't care. Actually, I'm doing it on purpose.

"Now just one sense is missing," I say, laying my eyes on hers again. I have her right where I want her to be. She swallows, and her breath has become a bit shallow.

"Feel," she croons in an unstable voice.

"Yes," I growl, "this if for you to feel." I bring my face down and lightly brush my lips over hers, with a feather-light pressure at first, barely grazing over her mouth. I sweep the tip of my tongue over her lower lip, letting the words I'm going to say linger there. "Feel it, Scully?"

Instead of answering, she opens her mouth and invites me in. I slowly slide into her, moving my tongue around hers. She's reciprocating adequately, and when I retreat she follows me, chasing me into my domain. We're speeding it up for a moment, devouring each other.

God, she tastes so good!

I move my hands from her hips, around her back and up to her hair. Her arms are around my waist now and our bodies are pressed together. I need to touch her soft skin, so I cradle her face with my hands on her cheeks. When I feel her smile into my mouth, I pull back slightly but leave my forehead resting against hers.

"It that corresponding verification enough?" I ask in what I hope she perceives as a rhetorical question.

"It's always good to do a second test series. Scientists like to validate their first findings."

"I love scientists."

"I'm glad you do."

How can I not? I connect our lips again for another passionate kiss.

I've lost track of time when we finally break apart, both gasping for air. Scully releases a content sigh, nestling her head to my chest. With a breathy voice, she whispers, "we're gonna be fine, Mulder."

And I'm as certain as I've never been in my life when I answer, "yes, Scully, we're gonna be fine."

not to be continued, done

#xf fanfiction #msr #scully's recovery'#final chapter #what am I going to write now

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