#it made Specs a murderer and that just tickles my brain

[chaosfairy18]

Sometimes I forget that not everyone knows the versions of characters in my mind

like what do you mean people don't know Specs and Dutchy would be such a serial killer husband duo

[reidandweep]

Stitching

Spencer Reid x Reader (female)

A/N- Much like Adam Driver, I have been a huge fan of Matthew Gray Gubler and criminal minds for years. With quarantine, I decided to re-watch the show from the beginning and I had some inspiration. My writing tends to take a while but if you have any requests or idea for Spencer Reid, please send them my way.

Word Count- 6286 words

Warning- Angst, mentions of violence and torture, fluff, tears, and the usual criminal minds details.

If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge? -William Shakespeare.

QUANTICO, VIRGINIA

“Good morning my lover and friends. As of 8:45 am, yesterday morning, four bodies have been found across the Washington State area. Locations confirmed to be Pomeroy, Baker City, Salem, and Mill Creek. All victims were very similar in physical appearance; Caucasian, red hair, brown eyes, approximately 5ft 4’.”

Garcia swiped her tablet to display family photographs of the victims on the screen. The team watched, in the debriefing room, as they scanned through their own tablets; reading through the details. Spencer’s eyes flittered over the images as his fingers scanned across the words in his paper file; still adamant on not working with technology like the rest of his team.

“What about the cause of death? How were they found?”

Garcia shivered at Rossi’s question.

“It’s not a pretty image. Each victim was dismembered at the elbows, knees, neck, and stomach. Further cuts were made vertically down the stomach and across the face, arms, and legs. Not deep enough to cut through bone, but deep enough to bleed out. Where the unsub cut our victims, he then sewed them back together.”

Emily looked up at Garcia.

“Are you saying the lacerations were made before the victim’s died?”

“Precisely. Each autopsy report came back the same with the cause of death pointing to the direction of blood loss; specifically, from the throat.”

The team looked at the new images before them. Multiple pictures appeared on the screen, showing the bodies of the victims. The pictures showing the women laid out in the same pose, thick thread holding together the pieces of their corpses. All had their eyes closed, except one.

“Garcia, the last victim, zoom into her face.”

Garcia did as Spencer asked.

“Her eyes are closed.”

Spencer nodded, glancing towards JJ as she spoke.

“Meaning that he felt remorse for this murder.”

Derek scrolled through the pictures on his tablet.

“The other three victim’s eyes are open, indicating that he wanted them to look. To watch what he was doing, whatever it may have been.”

Spencer looked across the table at the questioning faces.

“So, what changed between the third and the fourth victim?”

Hotch stood from his seat, indicating the others to grab their belonging.

“We can discuss further on jet. Wheels up in thirty.”

WASHINGTON STATE

Being greeted by the local police department in Clagstone, Spencer and the team began their investigation into the murders. Spencer did not know what it was, but the stitching on the bodies felt familiar. Like he had seen them before.

Looking up from his files, Spencer watched as Derek walked into the room, ending a call with who he could only presume to be Garcia.

“Garcia has just completed background checks on our latest victim. Lily Trent visited local film screenings at the Southview Centre religiously, to watch horror movies in particular. Seems like the girl loved anything horror and Halloween; according to her roommate and her computer history. It seems that are other victims did also.”

Spencer stood from his seat and walked towards the whiteboard at the back of the room. Writing down the details Derek stated, his brain began to filter through the relevant information needed.

“Halloween is ranked the ninth most celebrated holiday in the world. With different interpretations of the holiday occurring according to country and culture. Wearing costumes at Halloween did not even become an occurrence until 1585, with the first instance recorded in Scotland.”

Derek chuckled at Reid’s excitement. He knew the boy loved Halloween.

“Well it all looks like they were pretty huge fans of the holiday and horror films. Maybe our unsub was too.”

Spencer looked down at the photos in his hand, scanning his memory for any correlation.

“Maybe, it’s not just horror, but a particular film. If all the victims were presented in a certain way, maybe the unsub is trying to replicate what happened to a character in a particular film.”

Derek crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’ll call Garcia to search through all the victims search history to see if any particular horror films come up in each one. Do you know of any films that the unsub could have replicated?”

Spencer shook his head.

“I can collate his actions to hundreds of films but, the method of torture and look of the victims, I can’t think of one horror feature that pinpoints all that the unsub has done.”

A thought unexpectedly popped into Spencer’s mind. Derek cocked his head at the sudden halt from the resident genius.

“But I know someone who might.”

UNIVERSITY OF WASHINGTON

“The importance of genre in film alters many of the other aspects. The characters and their narrative arcs, the music score, cinematography, the edit, and so much more. Sometimes genre even dictates the director who signs onto the project. Dennis Dugan would not have a directing career if Adam Sandler stopped making comedy movies. Because that is what he directs. He doesn’t direct comedies; he directs Adam Sandler comedies. Which, in my opinion, are a whole genre on their own.”

The class chuckled.

“Genre plays a part in everyday life. Sometimes, your day will be led by romance, or grief, or action. There may be drama, or comedy, or even silence.”

The class looked on in concentration as Y/N walked across the floor. If someone who did not attend the college walked past the classroom, they could’ve presumed that she was a student. She looked young enough.

“It controls the way the characters talk, act, and move. How the plot thickens and pushes forward and…”

The doors at the back of the auditorium opened. Y/N looked up at the sound of the intrusion to see figures that she could not recognise, and one that she did.

Clearing her throat, she continued.

“And how it even ends. We shall leave it at that today. What I want you to do in the meantime is research a genre in particular and come up with examples that counteract the stereotypes that have been enforced upon the genre itself. Hand it in to your professor first thing Monday morning. Thank you.”

Y/N watched as the students collected their things and filtered out of the room. The figures waiting till she was only left before they walked down the steps.

Coming to a stop in front of her desk, Y/N crossed her arms and waited. Spencer stepped forward with a crooked smile on his face.

“Hi Y/N.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“Long time no see stranger.”

Spencer’s cheeks burned at Y/N’s words. The team shared looks between them at the unfamiliar display. They had seen Spencer blush at people before, but not for a long time.

Spencer cleared his throat, preparing himself to act professional.

“This is Dr Y/F/N Y/L/N. Y/N travels across the country to guest speak at different universities on her topic at hand. She specialises in film studies, more importantly the focus of characters and genres. If I can’t connect the unsub’s actions to a film, Y/N most definitely can.”

Y/N smiled at Spencer’s praise.

“Nice to meet you all. So, what are you here to talk to me about Doc? Obviously, you’re here on a case and if you are asking for my help, I’m guessing it’s going to be pretty gruesome.”

Spencer blushed at the nickname; caught off guard by the word slipping of her tongue.

Sending a raised look towards Reid, Hotch began to explain why they were there.

“Were looking into a case of connected murders. All victims were found to have been mutilated and tortured in the same way. As well as showing resemblances in their physical appearances. With research, we’ve found that each victim was particularly fond of horror films and Halloween. We would just like for you to take a look and see if you could recognise if the ways in which they were harmed stemmed from a film in particular.”

Y/N nodded her head.

“Of course, anything to help.”

She reached for the files from Spencer’s hands, ignoring the tablet pushed in her direction by JJ.

“Sorry, I prefer to use paper. I only really use technology for my lectures or to watch films if they cannot be purchased in physical form.”

Derek smirked, shooting looks to his team, as his eyes landed on Spencer. He never thought he would meet a technophobe like Reid.

Y/N scanned through the pictures and documents, looking in detail at the lacerations at hand. She identified the similarities between the victims, as her mind swirled through the images and characters from the films, she knew held similarities.

“What were the names of all the victims?”

Emily looked towards the woman.

“That information is classified.”

Y/N did not blink at her abrasiveness.

“Were any of them called Sally?”

The team looked perplexed at her question.

“No. Why that name in particular?”

Y/N continued to scan the pages as Rossi questioned her.

“Because the unsub isn’t replicating anything from a horror movie. The unsub is replicating the physical appearance and staging of a character from an animated movie. A Disney one to be more specific.”

A light bulb flickered in Spencer’s mind as he stared at Y/N in realisation. The hair colours. The stitches. It made sense now.

“The Nightmare Before Christmas.”

LOCAL POLICE DEPARTMENT

“The Nightmare Before Christmas is a 1993 American stop-motion animated musical Halloween-Christmas fantasy film directed by Henry Selick and produced and conceived by Tim Burton. It became a cult classic during the early 2000s with orchestral concerts occurring every year to celebrate the spectacle of the film.”

Spencer indicated for JJ to change the monitor as he and Y/N stood in front of the team to explain the information.

“Originally, the story began as a poem written by Tim Burton. Both narratives follow the protagonist, Jack Skellington, into his journey to Christmastown, and how he tries to make Christmas his own. The character in question that your unsub is replicating is the love interest of our protagonist. Created by Dr Finkelstein, Sally is a ragdoll-esque character whose body is covered with stitches to keep her together. The form in which all the women were found is identical to this scene in the movie.”

The screen changes to show the scene in question; paused at the precise moment to prover her point.

“All red haired, all Caucasian, all eerily the same. The stitches are exactly the same and the pose in which they are in the pictures are also.”

“We now know which film our unsub is mimicking, but how can we produce a distinguished profile of our unsub? All we can say is that between his third and fourth victim, he suddenly began to feel remorseful of his crimes.”

Y/N looked towards Spencer, waiting for him to speak as he knew more details about the case.

“Garcia checked into the victim’s computer histories and found that all four victims attended a horror convention in the Washington state area over the course of the past month. The convention in particular runs every other weekend, focusing on different horror films to highlight. However, they always make an exception for one film; The Nightmare Before Christmas. Whilst reviewing receipts for the tickets, they were all brought through the convention’s website, which is run by its board of organisation every year. Up until recently, the board has held the same members.”

Derek tapped on his tablet to the convention’s website.

“Last month, the website released details stating that a distinguish member was no longer part of the board due to unforeseen circumstances.”

It suddenly dawned on Y/N who Derek was talking about.

“Dean Faulkner.”

Spencer whipped around towards Y/N.

All eyes laid on her as her breath increased.

“You know him?”

Y/N nodded at Hotch.

“I guest spoke at a panel with him a few years back at a separate university. We were both there, amongst others, to talk about the works of a genre that are expertise were in. I was there to basically provide loose ends for what they could not answer. Dean’s specialised area was horror. The whole time he spoke about what he described as the true villains of horror and of the world.”

Y/N gulped, her mouth going dry.

“Women.”

The wheels began to turn in the team’s heads.

Spencer stepped closer towards Y/N in assurance, seeing that her thoughts were becoming overwhelmed. He quickly stepped back after he realised what he had done.

“He went on a raging tangent about the damsel in distress and the final girl. Going on and on and on about how women are weak and would never be the last one standing if faced against the monsters in real life. How they manipulated the men and made the monsters seem worse than they truly were. The only time he spoke positively about women was when we finally calmed him down and, during a Q&A session, a student asked him who the perfect horror movie character was. He said Sally because she was forgiving and would do anything for Jack; even if that meant falling apart and being sewn back together. I tried to justify that the film does not necessarily fall into the genre of horror. But he rebutted saying that it most definitely did, because of the fact that Jack’s dream did not come true.”

The room was silent for a second, taking in the information.

Suddenly, Y/N grasped the pen from Spencer’s hands. Her finger scribbling across the whiteboard.

“I need to know the names of the victims. Get Penelope on the phone and tell me the names.”

The team shocked at her erratic movements, sat in silence.

“Do you want to capture this guy?”

Spencer licked his lips and repeated the victim’s names.

“Susanna Cole, Alice Dawes, Liberty May, and Lily Trent.”

Y/N swiftly wrote the names on the boards. Each name below the other. Underneath the last name she wrote the letter Y.

“Can you ask Penelope to track any females with the first name beginning with Y who have purchased a ticket to the next convention?”

Derek quickly began to type to her. The rest of the team looking on in disbelief.

“There were twenty-three purchases, but with cross referencing with the similarities in the other victims, one matched. Her name is Yasmine Driver.”

Y/N wrote the name on the board. Circling all the first letters of each name, it became clear there was another connection with the victims.

“Their initials spell Sally.”

Y/N nodded at JJ’s disbelief.

“Reid, when is the next convention being held?”

Spencer diverted his attention to Emily.

“Their schedule every two weeks, so that would make it… tomorrow.”

The team swiftly moved into action.

“JJ bring together the police force for a debrief. Derek and Rossi, go to the convention centre and question the board about Dean. Ask them how often he visited and if they have any knowledge of the victims visits to the convention. Spencer and Emily, contact Penelope for Faulkner’s address. Once you have visited the home, if he is there, bring him in. We’re going to try and catch him before he gets close to his goal. I will locate Yasmine and bring her to the station for safety. We don’t know how far he is going to go and what the end goal of his fantasy is. But we are going to stop him.”

The team swiftly did as they were told, leaving the room with only Spencer and Y/N behind. Just before the door shot, Hotch leaned back in.

“Thank you, Dr Y/L/N, for all your help. If possible, could you stay here with JJ and look through the documents? You know this guy more than we do, so any more information that comes to mind, please let us know.”

Y/N and Spencer watched as Hotch left the room, the door shutting behind him.

As the silence engulfed them, Y/N and Spencer were hyper aware that they were now alone and had been for the first time in weeks.

Spencer swiftly walked towards Y/N and embraced her in a tight hold. Wrapping her arms around the slender man, Y/N breathed in his scent.

“I’ve missed you.”

Y/N chuckled at Spencer’s muffled words, as his head rested on top of her own. Pulling back, Y/N slowly released Spencer, letting her hands drop to her sides.

“I’ve missed you too Doc. We can catch up later, I will be waiting right here. Now, go and save the girl.”

Spencer chuckled at her words but did as Y/N said. Throwing her a smile, Spencer quickly walked out the room, leaving Y/N behind.

Y/N sat in the room, looking over the files as the time passed, waiting to see Spencer return with the rest of the team. A knock on the door startled her from her search.

Looking up at the door, Y/N saw JJ walk into the room with two cups of coffee in her hands. JJ outstretched the one hand, placing the cup in front of Y/N, as she took a seat and began to sip at her own.

“I didn’t know how many sugars you took so I estimated.”

Y/N smiled at the woman’s kindness.

“Thank you. Have you heard anything from the others?”

JJ sat up in her seat as she watched Y/N look over the documents. Her fingers moving across the pages ever so quickly. Her hand that wasn’t tapped continuously on the table in a rhythm.

“Spencer and Emily located Faulkner’s home, but it was vacant. They’re looking around the premises for clues for where he may be; as we speak. Hotch and Derek just called saying they are on their way down with Yasmine now.”

Y/N nodded at her words. Glad to hear that the girl was safe, but the main priority now would be to locate Faulkner. She wanted to truly help them, before anyone else could get hurt.

JJ grabbed her tablet and began to search through the files for any missed out information. Silence befell across the pair, until JJ could not help but ask what they had all been dying to know.

“How did you and Spencer meet?”

Y/N had been waiting for the question. She had seen the looks the team had shared throughout the day. The questioning gazes towards the pair.

“Spencer and I were both guests speaking at the University of California a few months ago. He must have finished his lecture early as he was wondering the halls when he came across the class I was teaching. I was stood on the desk, encouraging the students to do the same. Spencer thought I was a student causing trouble whilst the professor had left the room. He ran in sprouting facts about the percentage of people who fall and severely hurt themselves whilst standing on tables. Telling me that I should get down before he reports me to my professor.”

JJ chuckled at Y/N’s story.

“Sounds like Spence alright.”

Y/N giggled in agreement. As she spoke, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the memory of their first encounter. JJ noticed the smile on the woman’s face. She knew what that smile meant.

“So, I told him that he better stay there to catch me, just in case I fell, as I was trying to teach my students about the importance of character actions, and how doing something as simple as standing on a desk can amplify the tone of the scene. Like in the film Dead Poet’s Society. Spencer finally realised that I was also a guest speaker and he actually stood there for the next 40 minutes of my lecture. I didn’t need to stand on the desk that long, but I wanted to see if he would stay. Once the lecture had finished, he apologised for jumping to conclusions. I apologised for making him wait for 40 minutes in case I fell. He told me I didn’t make him wait; he chose to. We’ve been in contact ever since.”

Just as Y/N finished her story, the door to the conference room opened once more. Looking towards the door, Y/N watched as Hotch entered, followed by Yasmine. The young woman looked scared, but unharmed.

Y/N stood from her seat, unsure of what to do as Hotch insisted for Yasmine to take a seat.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Hotch nodded his head.

“We shouldn’t be long. The rest of the team are outside in the bullpen. You can go ahead and join them. JJ and I will take it from here.”

Y/N nodded her head, leaving the room. She watched as Hotch and JJ questioned spoke to Yasmine through the glass, before she turned and walked down the corridor to find Spencer and his friends.

Turning the corner, Y/N failed to stop herself before bumping into a tall figure. Looking up to apologise, her eyes suddenly widened at the familiar face. Before a sound could leave her lips, a blunt force knocked her out cold.

Spencer and the team discussed where Faulkner could be when Hotch strode into the bull pen.

“How did it go?”

Hotch walked towards his team, ready to answer Derek’s question.

“It seems that Faulkner had been stalking the victims for some time. Yasmine detailed seeing him turn up at the conventions, even though he was no longer allowed. She had previously complained about his behaviour to the board before his dismissal. Stating that Faulkner had sexually harassed her. Rossi, did anyone at the convention mention anything about Faulkner that we don’t know?”

“It seems that Yasmine wasn’t the only one. The other board members went into detail about why he was fired. It turned out that all of our victims, including Yasmine, had filed lawsuits against Faulkner for sexual harassment. The charges were ultimately dropped and never recorded to keep the convention’s reputation clear. But they fired Faulkner and banned him from being able to attend any further conventions. Taking away the Nightmare Before Christmas dedicated stand was just a coincidence. They felt that the convention needed something new as they had been celebrating the film for over eight years.”

Just as Hotch was about to declare what the next step would be in finding Faulkner, JJ burst through the ball pen.

“Guys, you have to come quick.”

The team, in shock, watched as JJ ran back towards the conference room. All quickly on her heels. Entering the room, she took control of the laptop, streaming the image to the projector.

Spencer could no longer breathe as he looked at the image on the screen.

“Y/N.”

The screen showed Y/N tied to a chair and bent forward; clearly in pain. Her surroundings empty and dark.

Suddenly a voice was heard.

“I sense there's something in the wind. That seems like tragedy's at hand isn’t there Dr Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

The team watched in horror as Dean Faulkner yanked Y/N’s head back, her body letting out a strangled cry at the pain caused by his actions.

Spencer felt sick, he felt like he was watching himself when Tobias Hankel had held him captive.

“Emily, call Garcia to track his location. We don’t have much time.”

Emily did as Hotch told her to. Talking as quickly as she could on the phone.

“She can’t track it; he’s re-routing the IP address every thirty seconds.”

“She needs to track it. She needs to find her now!”

They all jumped at Spencer’s outburst, watching as tears filled his vision and his hands began to shake.

“Spencer, you need to calm down, we are going to find her. He can’t have taken her far.”

Spencer took in Derek’s words. Taking a breath, he looked back at the screen as he tried to distinguish any recognisable features of where she may be.

Faulkner moved his face to rest against Y/N’s hair, smelling the tresses. She tried to pull away only for him to yank her back again.

“Why did you kill them Dean?”

Faulkner let go of Y/N’s hair. Walking to her side, he grabbed her face in a vicious grip. Yanking her to look at him.

“Why? They ruined my life, everything I ever worked hard for. You all did.”

Y/N looked at him in confusion.

“I did nothing to you.”

Y/N’s breath increased at the vicious look he sent her way. Her eyes flickered to the camera, knowing that Faulkner was streaming what was happening to Spencer and his team. She had to find a way to tell them where she was.

“You made them question my authority. My position. My integrity as a member of the board. You ruined my reputation by belittling me in California.”.

“That’s because you know nothing about horror Dean. You think you know everything about it, but you don’t.”

Spencer couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why was Y/N taunting him?

“Garcia’s looking to see if there’s any abandoned properties around the area that he could have taken her to.”

Spencer didn’t even acknowledge Emily’s words.

Faulkner reeled back at Y/N’s taunt.

“I know everything there is to know about horror. I’ve seen it all. I’ve lived it. I’ve created it. Ask me anything about it, I know the right answers.”

“But you don’t. You have an idea of horror, your own idea, that is wrong. You believe that women are the reason you lost your job and became the monster that you are. But they’re not. The reason you’re a monster is because of your sick and twisted fantasies. You made those girls feel small and weak, didn’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The team watched in apprehension.

“Garcia, the location, we need it now.”

Rossi looked between the screen and the phone in Derek’s hand.

“I can get the area he’s holding her, but not the specific building. The whole town is basically abandoned. She could be anywhere from a shop to a house.”

“Keep looking.”

Spencer chewed on his lips. He had to think rationally. If the unsub was upset about the changes and losing his job, what could have been the last straw?

“Derek what was the film they replaced Nightmare Before Christmas with at the convention.”

Derek and Spencer shared a look.

“Cabin in the Woods.”

Spencer ran across the rooms to the files at hand.

“In the location that Garcia has tracked her too, there are three cabins, all within a walking distance of the other.”

The team began to rush out the room, transferring the livestream to a tablet so they could monitor Faulkner and Y/N.

“You’re weak Dean. You’re just like all the horror movie villains. Ghostface, pinhead, jigsaw, all of them. You feed of fear and feeling in control. But the only thing you have in common with them is that you’re not going to win.”

Faulkner scream in rage. Pulling Y/N’s head back, he punched her in the jaw. Striding to the camera, he pushed his face to the lens.

“The party’s over!”

Spencer watched in horror as the feed went off.

“Hotch we have to hurry!”

Hotch sped up the car. Quickly arriving to the location, the team split up into pairs, taking a cabin each to inspect. Hotch and Derek, Rossi and JJ, and Spencer and Emily veered off to their targeted locations. Spencer followed Emily, trying to stay calm, as he slowly walked into the cabin to find it empty, when suddenly a gun shot was heard. Looking in the direction, the pair ran to the cabin that Derek and Hotch had been assigned. The rest of the team already there, looking into the cabin in shock.

“No, no, no, no. Y/N.”

Spencer pushed in front of them, tears pooling in his eyes as he a waited to see the horror before him. He looked in disbelief as Y/N stood from her position on the floor, the gun dropping from her hand as they shook. Faulkner laid a few feet away, in a pool of blood, no longer breathing.

Y/N looked towards the team. Raising her shaking hands towards Spencer.

“I didn’t want to kill him but he was going to shoot whoever walked through the door.”

Spencer rushed forward, grabbing her in a bone crushing hug. His hands stroking her hair as he soother her cries. Leading her out of the cabin, he allowed his team to sort out the rest as he continued to calm Y/N down.

The movement of the team were a blur as ambulances and police cars came. Taking them to the hospital as they sat in the waiting room as Y/N was checked over.

Spencer sat in the waiting room, his leg bouncing up and down with nerves.

Derek excused himself from the groups conversation as he went and sat next to Spencer. Clapping him on the back, Derek squeezed Spencer’s shoulder in re-assurance.

“She’s going to be fine pretty boy.”

“Physically, she has a concussion, bruising along her jawline, and needs stitches on her forehead. Mentally, I don’t know how she is going to handle this. When I suggested asking for her help in the case, I didn’t presume the risk of her being hurt. I should have.”

“Spencer, listen to me. We would have done everything to make sure she lived okay. She not only saved herself but she also helped save Yasmine and this team. Any one of us could have been shot if she had not thought fast and got the gun out of his hands. You know, better than anyone, how to help her deal with this.”

Spencer took in Derek’s words, nodding his head in appreciation, as he leaned against his friend in a comforting hug.

“Probably wasn’t the ideal way to introduce your girlfriend to the team though.”

Spencer stuttered at Derek’s teasing.

“We’re profilers Spencer. We’ve all noticed how you’ve been happier these past few months and seeing how persistent you were for us to consult Y/N, it gave us all an idea why. Seeing you together only confirmed our suspicions. So, how long has pretty boy had his pretty girl?”

Spencer chuckled at Derek’s words. Ringing his hands together as he spoke to Derek.

“Tomorrow is actually our six-month anniversary. She was going to be flying back today so we could celebrate; unless I got called on a case.”

“We can still celebrate.”

Spencer looked up as Y/N walked through the waiting room, fresh stitches on her forehead and an ice pack resting in her hands.

“The nurse said that there was no internal damage. That my body will just be sore for a few weeks. My concussion is light, so I am alright to travel home.”

The team gathered around to check on her. But her eyes could not leave Spencer’s as he rose from his seat. Spencer walked forward slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Carefully he cupped her face in his hands, and to the surprise of Y/N and his team, Spencer bowed his head and placed a careful kiss on Y/N’s lips. Slow, protective, and full of love.

Pulling back, Spencer wrapped his arms around her as he looked at the beaming smiles of his teammates. Y/N couldn’t help the blush across her cheeks or the giggle that followed. Soon, everyone was chuckling at the pair.

“I would like to thank you Y/N. From the entire team. Your actions saved a young woman’s life, and what could have been one of our own.”

Y/N smiled in appreciation at Rossi’s words.

“You’re Spencer’s family. I would do it all again if I had to.”

“Statistically speaking, around 2,000 people a day are reported missing in the US. Approximately, 600 of those would be reported or considered kidnappings. It is highly unlikely for you to be put in a situation like that again.”

Y/N looked up at her boyfriend.

“I never thought I would say this, but your talk about me being kidnapped again is really attractive.”

The team laughed at the girl’s statement, seeing Spencer become physically embarrassed.

“Just to inform everyone, the jet will be ready to depart in forty-five minutes. As I was informed that today you would have been heading home, Y/N we have sent for your belongings to be collected; you can fly back with us.”

Spencer smiled at Hotch in gratitude, the older man knowing he would have only worried if she had flown home alone.

“Thank you, Mr Hotchner.”

Hotch let out a brief smile.

“Call me Hotch. Your part of Spencer’s life, that means your part of this family.”

BAU JET

It had been an exhausting few days for the team, and it showed, as they all were sporadically asleep throughout the jet. Silence encompassed the steel capsule, with only the sound of sleep filled breaths being heard.

Y/N laid fast asleep, with her head on Spencer’s shoulder, as the boy genius sat up wide awake. Looking down at the woman next to him, all Spencer could imagine was what could have happened if they weren’t quick enough. How many days he would have lost with her. All the things he wanted to tell her.

As though she could sense his deep thoughts, Y/N slowly awoke, rubbing her eyes as a yawn escaped her mouth. Blinking her eyes rapidly, she waited till she was fully conscious before she spoke.

“What time is it Doc?”

Spencer jostled out of his thoughts to check the watch on his wrist.

“It’s 2:36 am. You’ve been asleep for approximately 3 hours and 22 minutes.”

Y/N quickly sat up in her seat, wide awake.

Spencer turned towards her in worry, wondering what had made her so alert.

“What wrong? Are you feeling nauseous? Do you need some painkillers, as your due to have…”

Y/N grabbed Spencer’s face and placed her lips flush against his own. Their mouths moved in unison, as Spencer’s own hands moved to circle around her waist, bringing their bodies as close as they could be in the small space they had. They hadn’t kissed since the hospital, and before then it had been weeks. Spencer never realised until then, how much he truly missed her touch, her taste, her as a whole.

Coming to a point where they both lacked breathe, the pair pulled apart. Their eyes fluttering open as Y/N’s hands caressed Spencer’s face. Her one hand travelled to his hair, feeling the tresses that had grown since she had last seen him. She looked at him in a way no one had before. Spencer shared the same expression.

“Happy six-month anniversary Spencer. I love you.”

Spencer looked at Y/N in disbelief.

“Before you start spouting of facts about transference and how I am probably only saying this because you saved my life, you’re wrong. Because then I would be telling Hotch and Morgan the same thing.”

Spencer couldn’t help the watery smile that graced his face. For the second time in the past day, his eyes filled with tears. But this time, they were good.

“I’ve known I have loved you for a long time. For five months actually. I knew I loved you when we made pizza in your apartment and we ended up burning it, so we ordered one instead.”

Spencer laughed at the memory. It was the first time Spencer had initiated their make out. He had watched her cooking, in his apartment, and he had never found her more attractive than he did seeing her in his home.

“I knew that whilst you were spouting of facts about the invention of the pizza that I loved you and that I could listen to you forever. I love you Spencer.”

Spencer pulled Y/N closer to him as he rested his forehead against her own. The pair basked in each other’s presence.

“Past surveys show that men wait just 88 days to say those three little words to their partner for the first time, and 39 percent say them within the first month. Women, on the other hand, take an average 134 days. You knew after 31 days that you loved me. I knew after our first date that the way I felt when I was with you is a feeling that I could not even describe with my vast vocabulary. I knew after 8 days that the way I felt was stronger than liking you and that was a frightening thought. But its scarier to think what could have happened to you yesterday. That I could have lost you without you ever knowing. I made that mistake before. I will never make it again. I love you too.”

Y/N couldn’t help the smile and giggle that overtook her. Spencer, feeling high of the serotonin that was coursing through his body, couldn’t help his laugh either. Soon the pair were a giggling mess, unaware of the team who had all begun to awaken whilst the pair were talking.

The team congregated to the back of the jet, allowing the couple to stay in their own bubble.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen him truly happy.”

The group nodded at Emily’s words.

JJ smiled as she watched her best friend rattle of the possible movies that he and his girlfriend could spend their anniversary watching as she recovered. Her smile growing even wider at Y/N’s enthusiasm to watch the film’s in their original language. None of them could miss the look of adoration beaming between the pair.

“Yeah, it really has.”

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. -Lao Tzu

A/N- It isn’t the best but I really enjoyed writing this one.

[harrylee94]

Log Entry XXXXXX - Chapter 7

Summary: A new space station, complete with the most high spec and up to date technology there is to offer, has been set up at the edge of the known universe, a new way point for explorers to keep in contact with the rest of the human race. It has been carefully designed by the best scientists and engineers Earth could offer, and now 7 brave souls are being sent out to ensure everything works perfectly.

However, when Logan wakes from cryosleep from the journey, he is informed that several things are now in need of repair, though everything had been in perfect working condition when the station had been reconstructed before he and his crew had arrived. They will have to solve the problems they’ve been left with before the station is up and running, and yet Logan can’t help but feel he’s done this before…

Relationships: Intrulogical (Remus/Logan)

Warnings: Blood, Gore, Parasites, Remus having an overactive imagination, It’s an Among Us crossover so there will be bad stuff afoot.

A/N: It’s been a while, but I hope you enjoy the update!

For those of you who don’t know, this story is based off of a comic by @fangirltothefullest which I HIGHLY recommend you check them out on the link above! Their art is AMAZING.

Note to everyone before we begin; there will be graphic descriptions of gore, dismemberment, possibly torture, and any other awful things that come with the territory of writing a story in an Among Us universe. (No gore in this chapter though!)

Link to; Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

To read it on AO3 please click here.

Chapter 7: Day 1

Day 1

As Remus was dragged into the waking world, he realised his body felt weird. Not the good kind of weird either -- the kind where you had a deep ache inside you and your skin tingled with the aftermath of gripping fingers and biting teeth -- but an annoying one. It was like he'd been put in a tumble dryer and built up too much static because of all the jumpers, or he'd been squashed under a giant butt (and not the juicy kind) and every part of him had fallen asleep.

It was weird.

He rolled over, trying to find someone to comfort him, but he hit something hard and, without looking or thinking about it, he climbed over it.

He hit the cold floor with no warning, the meat of his arm and leg having taken most of the impact, along with his elbow and knee, and he groaned in pain and annoyance. He loved bruises, how they blossomed into great puddles of browns and purples and greens and blues and yellows under the skin, but he didn't like the cold of the floor. In revenge he spread his body out over it to heat it up as he blinked at the growing brightness. What was he doing again?

"Are you alright?"

Logan! Of course, this was the shuttle to the Sanders Station, and he’d swapped with Virgil so he could be with his boy-toy! How could he have forgotten? He groaned in response and rolled over, pulling himself towards the other cryotube in the room, his muscles feeling tender and uncooperative. When he reached the giant metal dildo he pulled himself up until his nose poked over the edge of the tube.

Logan was lying in reprise, his eyes closed, like a corpse at a wake, but after a few moments of staring at his love Remus could see the lines of tension between his eyes, a stiffness to the set of his shoulders, and the hard set to his jaw.

“Bad dream, Ana-Logie?” he asked, reaching out to brush the hair from the man’s brow.

“You could say that,” his nerdy Wolverine said with a sigh as he leaned into his fingers, opening his eyes. The tension was still there, but he smiled up at Remus with a sad yet fond look. “It’s all a bit of a nightmare.”

It took him a few moments to realise that Logan hadn’t been shocked at all by the little switcheroo, but he pushed the thought away. For now.

Remus frowned, wondering why his boyfriend sounded like he’d just sat through one of Roman’s boring movie marathons, only to find out there was another love story lined up, but worse. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Logan shook his head, still smiling. “I just… need to find the right words. Maybe over breakfast.”

Remus’s brow furrowed even more, knowing Logan was lying, but nodded as he continued to stroke his fingers through their hair. “Alright then. I’ll be here if you need me.”

“I know you will.” Why did that sound so sad? Logan reached up and held Remus’s cheek, running his thumb over the bone under his eye. “Give me a bit and I’ll join you for breakfast.”

Remus hummed and lay back down on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. He tried to find cracks, lines that were silent promises of doom and distraction, but there was nothing. He huffed and pushed himself up to the edge of the giant dildo and looked down on his whale penis with a pout.

"I didn't get my-" he began, only to get cut off as Logan lunged from his spot to kiss him greedily. Not one to look at the mould and puss in a gift horse's mouth, Remus reciprocated in kind, holding Logan's cheek even as they pulled back, gasping for air. "Wow."

Logan smirked in a way that made Remus’s heart feel like it was going to disintegrate into ashes inside his chest. “I missed you.”

“Yeah,” Remus said, staring at Logan for a few more moments before he pulled himself up and over the edge and onto Logan, who had started laughing, probably because Remus was kissing every inch of skin he could find and he had said that his furry nose fiend made him ticklish.

There was soon a lot more skin for him to tickle, and Remus was only too happy to show Logan just how much he’d missed him in return.

When they headed to the small seating area some time later (Remus didn’t really know how long they had been, nor did he really care, he just knew that he was feeling the good kind of weird now, and his body ached deliciously) after a quick stint in the refresher, Remus headed straight to the screen in the wall to prepare breakfast.

Logie-Bogie was still acting a bit off, so perhaps a trip down memory lane would help. The meal from their first date sounded like a good idea. He typed in the order for pesto pasta and hummed a little bit of the Jekyll and Hyde musical, wiggling a little to the silent beat as he imagined the psychotic monster wandering the streets for his next victim.

“Alive,” Logan said, bringing Remus’s tune to a quiet halt, “and then you’ll move on to Bring On the Men. You’ll give me a bowl of pesto pasta--” The machine in the wall dinged and a steaming bowl slipped out from the slot. “--and call me your Emma and Lucy both before spinning me in your arms and kissing me as you suggest I take you back to bed for a little longer.”

Remus ignored the pasta and sat at Logan’s feet, taking his hands in his as his mind reeled. That was exactly what he was going to do. Probably. He didn’t know for sure, but he knew he would have sung Bring On the Men, and it did sound like something he would do. Was Logan a mind reader now? Could he see into the future? Did that mean his brain would end up overloading and exploding and end up leaking out of his nose and ears?

Logan smiled at him. His eyes were sad. “Then, after I tell you this, we’ll meet the others, Virgil will be having a panic attack if we’re later than seven on the dot, we’ll make a plan of action, and then we will enter the Station. Three hours later, two of us will have fatal encounters with the parasitic aliens that are waiting for us. Over the next few hours, be it through the lack of oxygen, from a reactor meltdown, our own paranoia, or being murdered by imposters in the shape of our friends and family, we’ll all be dead.” He chuckled, the laugh dead and limp in the air, and almost desperate. “What’s worse is that I don’t even remember how many times it’s happened. I tried to keep track but… I don’t even know why I’m trying anymore. I can never save you. I can’t stop the loop. You… You never remember. I…”

Remus climbed up onto his partner’s lap and held him close, waiting for him to cry but instead finding his chest dry. Logan was just blank, staring at nothing. “Lo…”

“I’m all alone,” the man whispered. “You’re all here, but I’m so alone. I think I’m going insane. I have lived this day over and over on a constant loop with almost no reprieve, I have seen your death so much that I’m almost numb to it. I don’t want to feel nothing when I look at you. I don’t want to shut off from this, but if I don’t, then I’m going to break... I just want it to end.”

“Oh my bleeding heart,” Remus murmured, rocking them both back and forth as he imagined Logan snapping, his brilliant mind shattering into a thousand pieces. Would it leave behind a shell; a husk of what had once been? Would it be a blank face, like the one he was holding to his chest, a robot still working but empty of feeling? Would Logan go in the other direction and feel too much; would he be overwhelmed by everything? That would lead to that shell-like state, but it could also mean acting irrationally, and possibly dangerously. He didn’t know enough about mental health to make any real guesses, but if any of those were to happen… He held Logan a little tighter to his chest. “What do you want me to do?”

Logan let out a stunted laugh, but there was a small smile on his face now. “Hold me. Just for a little bit longer.”

“I’d hold you ‘til the end of eternity if you asked me,” Remus said, kissing Logan on his temple.

“I know you would,” Logan said with a sigh, finally wrapping his arms around Remus’s back.

For a while they just sat there, holding each other, Remus focusing on the steady breaths of his beloved and swatting away thoughts of death and carnage and broken minds as much as he could in the silence. He started humming again after a while, not thinking about the tune until Logan chuckled, where he realised he’d continued with his rendition of Alive and moved onto Bring On the Men, just as Logan had said he would.

“Sorry,” Remus muttered, sure that the tunes weren’t helping.

“It’s alright,” Logan replied, and he snuggled into Remus’s chest a little more. “It’s nice.”

“It is?”

“Mmm.”

“Good,” Remus said, brushing at Logan’s hair.

Logan leaned into the touch and Remus continued to hum, but he stopped once he reached the end of the song.

“... Why do you always believe me?”

Remus pulled back a little. “Why do I always believe you?”

Logan nodded, meeting his eye. “It’s a ridiculous thing, what I’m saying. Impossible by any logical count, and still you take me by my word. The first time I explained myself you tested me, but now…”

Remus smiled softly. “Because it’s impossible, and ridiculous, and you told me about it like you were stating the facts that you found in one of your algorithms or through one of your experiments. I believe you because I know you would never lie to me.”

Somehow, this brought on the tears, and Remus softly wiped at the trail they left on Logan’s cheeks. “But I have lied to you!”

“Was it during the loop?” Remus asked. “Was it to try and protect me from being killed by a face hugger?”

Logan sniffed. “They’re more like the creature from The Thing.”

“Was it to protect me from being killed by the Thing then?”

“... Yes.”

“Then I forgive you.”

Logie-Bogie’s face crumpled and he pressed it to Remus’s shoulder, where he rubbed at his back in some hopeless attempt at comfort.

“... You would also never lie about something like this, so there’s that too.”

Logan let out a wet laugh. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my snotty love.”

They sat like that, comforting each other, for perhaps a bit too long, though Remus would have stayed there indefinitely to keep Logan happy if he had to; by the time Logan had pushed him through the rest of their morning, eating the pesto pasta despite it having gone a little cold, it had gone seven, and Emo was recovering from a panic attack with help from Prince Perfect and Daddy-kins. It was all exactly as Logan had said it would be, and when each of them headed off to where they had each decided they would be best needed with all the work they had ahead of them, Logan continued to explain the situation in a little more detail.

“You’re saying that there are videos from past loops?” Remus asked, pulling his tablet out as Logan made quick work of the Oxygen filter.

“Yes,” the scientist replied, “but, for some reason, you can only access them on the screen in Communications. There are some text files that you can access though, once you’ve downloaded them from the Station.”

Remus hummed and swiped through the screen a bit to connect before setting the tablet aside as the little man walked from one end of the screen to the other carrying digital files like a fae creature carrying a baby away from its crib in the middle of the night. “And we still have a few hours until anything really happens.”

“That’s correct,” Logan said, slotting the first of the filter boards back in before pulling out the second. “The air is breathable by the way, though I suggest you keep hold of your helmet in case the creatures decide to turn off the lights again.”

“So lights, oxygen and reactor,” Remus said with a nod, trying to remember exactly how long it took for a body to deteriorate and decompose when it was exposed to radiation. However long it took, he was sure it would be painful, or at the very least disgusting, considering it probably involved burst blood vessels and the vomiting and so forth. Very messy.

“And doors.”

“Doors?” What did doors have to do with anything?

“They can close doors too. And travel through the vents.”

“Oh.” So they could trap you in a room, isolate you, turn off the lights, and murder you while everyone else thought they were in another room. He chuckled, though there was no humour in it; how could there be when it was his Logan who was living through it. “It’s a real life horror movie.”

Logan hummed in agreement as he continued to clean the filter. Remus watched him for a few moments more before sliding on his butt across the floor and hugging him from behind. Logan immediately relaxed into him, though their helmets made the whole process extremely awkward.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I wish there was,” Logan said, his voice quiet, defeated. “I haven’t been able to think of anything that could prevent the death of at least two of our crew. Even when we have ejected them into space with five of us still alive and well I have awoken to the start of the day. My efforts result in nothing but disappointment.”

"Maybe you have to keep everyone alive," Remus suggested, watching as Logan slotted the filter back in place.

"It's something I've considered," the scientist admitted, "but I don't see how it would change anything. Besides, no matter what I try I can never catch the parasites before they find their hosts."

Remus hummed, looking at the tablet to check its progress before reaching up to remove his helmet; just a minute more until he could see what Logan had recorded. He breathed in the air, which tasted stale, like bread that had been out for too long, or a freshly dusted room but the cleaner had died before they could open a window so it was still all just sitting there. He gave Logan another squeeze.

“How often do you take breaks?” he asked, wondering what his booger buddy would look like if his body could reflect what he’d been through. Would there be bags under his eyes? Would he be pale? Would he have lost weight, hair, strength? How many scars would he have? What would a body look like if it had been torn in two and stitched back together again?

“You tend to make sure I get some sleep when I need it,” Logan replied, and Remus could hear the smirk in his voice. “You always know. I don’t know how you do it.”

Remus chuckled. “I know you too well.”

“You really do.”

Smiling, Remus rested his head against Logan’s helmet for a moment before pulling away. “So, are we going to be doing any rescuing? Any daring attempts at fighting off the hordes of hell?”

“Not this time,” Logan said with a sigh, resting the filter in his lap. “I’m tired, Remus. I don’t think I could handle anything like that. I can’t...” His voice faded and his head drooped down. He looked defeated.

“Can’t what?”

“... I can’t watch you die again.”

That… was a good reason. “I’ll stay with you then. For now at least.”

Logan hummed and sent him a smile. “You can read my notes.”

“Yeah.” He looked at the tablet, which had finished downloading all the files. There were over a thousand of them. “I might skip a few.”

“I don’t blame you.”

Remus all but cackled and opened the first document.

An hour later he was almost in tears, the content of the files more painful and horrifying than he could ever have thought. He felt the way Logan had been pulling away with each entry, fading from the world as his hope was taken over by despair, like a growing shadow reaching out and blanketing him with its slick and sticky fingers, an oil spill too thick to escape. He saw how exhausted he was from the phrasing of his words, the loss of formality and scientific data, turning this into more of a journal rather than a log book.

“How could you ever think that this is your fault?”

Logan looked up from his wiring with a puzzled expression. “What?”

“Your last entry…” He held out the tablet for him to see. His sexy nerd didn’t even look, he just sighed and turned away.

“What else am I supposed to think?”

“I don’t know!” Remus exclaimed, waving his arms around and almost breaking the tablet against the wall. “That some weird black hole freak of nature just randomly did this, or maybe some eldritch horror Old One decided to have some fun just to mess with you, or that we got caught in some weird Christmas magic!”

“It’s October.”

“Halloween magic then! The spirits of the damned followed us out here and found some weird space creatures to haunt us with!”

Logan sighed and gave him a fond look, but somehow his eyes looked like deep black pits of despair. Remus dropped the tablet, ignoring the way it clattered to the floor, and removed Logan’s helmet to hold his face.

“This isn’t your fault.”

“I wish I could believe you.”

With those words, it was like every spec of joy inside him had been sucked out of him, and now his body was filled with holes like swiss cheese. He was sure that if he looked down he would find blood leaking out into spots all over his suit, and still he would have been more full than what he could see of the eyes of his heart.

“Lo...” he started, rubbing his gloved thumb over a smooth cheek, wishing he could be touching him in truth, but then the moment was interrupted by a blaring alarm.

Logan looked slowly up at the ceiling. “A meeting’s been called.”

“Shit,” Remus said, his eyes also drawn skyward (or ceiling-ward, since there was no real atmosphere, just what the Station’s system along with a nearby giant planet had provided, which made him wonder if the Imposters had ever had the thought to turn off the gravity enhancers, since that would have made travelling through the Station more difficult). “What happened?”

“Janus found Orange,” Logan replied, and he pulled himself to his feet, pulling his helmet up with him. “He’ll be dead in Storage.”

“Shit,” Remus said again, thinking of the boxes and fuel tank they had passed and imagined them splattered with wet red streaks, or a pool beneath a pile of limbs and body parts. He gathered his own helmet and tablet and scrambled after his partner, who was already heading out the door. “It’ll be Roman and Virgil again then.”

“Yes,” Logan agreed.

“What do we do?”

Logan sighed. Again. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Remus made to argue, but Patton had caught up with them and  he was forced to keep himself in check, though it was like holding back a tsunami with a bucket, and the town was already flooded and filled with bloated corpses. Patton was curious about what the ‘fuss was all about’, of course, and while Remus did say that someone had died, the peppy man took it as a joke and waved him off. That is, he did until the meeting.

Remus had seen a corpse or two before. Well, he’d seen more than just two, and even made a few thanks to his time in the military (and if he had a dollar for every person who didn’t believe him he would have been able to fund his medical training instead of having to sign up -- he’d be a millionaire for every look he got about the fact that he was a certified surgeon), but it was never easy. Sure, he liked to pretend everything was alright, being nonchalant and his usual brand of unsettling, but that body had once been alive and breathing, and now all it was doing was shitting itself and starting to decompose. It didn’t help that this was a friend rather than a nameless nobody.

They put Orange in one of the cryo pods, freezing him up like a chicken ready to be put in a microwave, though from the way Roman and Virgil were acting, there wouldn’t be a later.

Had he not known, had he been focused solely on the death they had been forced to face, he would not have seen the way Virgil was decidedly not having a panic attack, far too calm for the way his anxiety would play up, and Roman swept all emotions under the rug after a minute or two, after everyone had become more occupied with other things. Well, after Janus and Patton became more occupied, that is.

Logan was almost listless, watching the proceedings blankly, a little pale, but otherwise drifting into a state of ghoulishness that made Remus wonder if he was going to turn around and eat one of them (but then he remembered that the ones who were likely to eat him had already killed someone, and they weren’t Logan). That left Remus to watch the pair like a hawk.

There was no other outward sign that they had changed at all, though the personality shift would have been enough in ordinary circumstances. Subtlety wasn’t exactly his strong suit though, and he knew that the Roman Imposter had taken note. It was obvious in the way it made his brother’s body stiffen, and the twitch of those once familiar fingers.

“Shouldn’t we sti-stick together?” Patton was saying, his voice wobbling as he kept close to the Virgil Imposter’s side (who was taking advantage of the attention by keeping a hold on his arm, ready to drag him off into a dark corner and tear him to pieces no doubt).

“What if it’s one of us?” Jany asked, looking between each of them with suspicion, which made Remus love his friend just a little more. He’d always been a suspicious asshole, but now it was working overtime, and with good reason.

“How could it be?” Patton asked with a nervous laugh. “We’re all friends! We’ve known each other for years!”

“And yet Orange is still dead.”

Patton gulped and shrunk in on himself.

Janus sighed, a look of guilt passing over him, but it was quickly squashed. “Maybe we don’t know each other as well as we thought.”

“That, or we’ve got some imposters among us,” Remus said, glaring in accusation at the thing wearing his brother as a meat suit. It frowned back at him, but he saw the flash of surprise.

“That’s ridiculous,” the Roman-suit scoffed.

“Is it?” Remus asked.

“Yes!”

“Why don’t we just… find out if there’s anyone else here first?” fake-Virgil suggested. “There’s a way to do that, right?”

“Only in the terms of being able to see where each of the active suits are in the Station,” Logan replied, and Remus stepped closer to his side when he realised how lifeless he sounded compared to everyone else. How broken. How suspicious.

Janus narrowed his eyes at the both of them, but turned back to the conversation. “That’s so useful.”

“Is there no other way to check?” Patton asked.

“We could look,” Roman-suit said.

Remus snorted, hoping his boogers would shoot from his nose and hit the Roman-suit. Maybe they’d be like a caustic acid to them and burn through their skin and it would scream and die in agony. “They could also move and stalk us.”

Patton hugged himself, looking daunted. “Then… Then…”

“What if we fix everything?” fake-Virgil asked. “Would that help?”

Logan sighed, and Remus knew from that expression that they’d already had this conversation before. “It’s possible, though unlikely.”

“Possible’s better than nothing.”

“We should do that then,” Roman-suit said with a decisive nod, and Remus almost scowled at him, but just barely held himself back.

“Split up?” he said instead, face twisting in disgust instead which was almost as good as a scowl, but not quite as good since he was regularly disgusted by his brother.

“The sooner we get things done, the sooner it’ll be over,” Roman-suit said (and he really needed to think of a better name than ‘Roman-suit’).

“You’re acting like you’ve never watched a horror movie! And I know you have because I made you sit through one until you ran off screaming like a baby,” Remus said, pointing an accusing finger at Roman-suit.

“Well what else would you suggest?!”

“Not this!”

“Boys!”

Remus blinked in surprise as he and the Roman-thing turned to look at Patton, who was looking between them in exasperation. Wow, little pappy Patton had some lungs! How long could he hold his breath for?

The man in cyan blue sighed and looked between them, then at Logan, Janus and not-Virgil in turn. “We should vote on it.”

Janus snorted but gave a nod. “It’s an even number…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Logan said and his flat tone had Remus back at his side in a second. “No matter what we choose it’ll be wrong.”

“Logan-” Patton started, but Remus touched his beloved’s cheek and shook his head.

“It could be different this time.”

“This time?” he heard fake-Virgil ask behind him, but all he could focus on were the voids of Logan’s eyes, where even the despair was beginning to fade.

“You always say that.”

Remus wanted something to say to that, some way to bring life back to those dying eyes, to fan the flames of passion that had once thrived there, but even had he been able to think of something he was given no chance to.

His head came close to making contact with the floor as the surprise of Logan’s push almost kept him from reacting, but he managed to catch himself with his elbows. But then came the gasp, and the horrifyingly familiar sound of someone choking on blood.

He knew who it was -- how could he not -- and for a brief moment he let grief consume him, chewing precious pieces of him he had never let anyone see into chum and feeding it to the vicious beasts of rage that flooded the spaces that were left. He didn’t need to look to know, but he did anyway.

Logan had been pierced by several sharpened tentacle-like appendages, the fleshy weapons leaving a shower of blood scattered across the wall behind the man they had so brutally murdered as the creature they had come from sneered at Remus. Logan, the man of his dreams, his bleeding heart, wheezed. Remus could see that his lungs were likely shredded, his liver punctured, intestines ready to spill out of the hole that would be left behind… No, he had to stop looking at that now. Logan was dead, even if he still breathed. There were others who needed help.

“Remus…” the scientist choked, and that was all the additional motivation he needed.

He all but pounced from the floor, dashing past the Roman-suit that was pinning his better half to the wall and tackled Patton, hefting him over his shoulder as fake-Virgil’s body split in two with a wet tearing noise, revealing rows upon rows of teeth.

“Janus!” he cried, and the man in yellow shook himself from his stupor and fled in the opposite direction. Remus hoped that he would be able to survive long enough for them to meet again, but he had other things to worry about; like the horror of a mouth that was reaching out to take a bite of him and the stiff body in his arms.

Logan choked again, the gasps his flooded longs made tempting Remus turn around, but he didn’t. He couldn’t spare time for the dying, no matter who they were.

“Vir-Virgil?” Patton stuttered from his shoulder, even as Remus ran from the scene, trying to remember the rooms without vents.

An inhuman scream of rage followed them, winding through the corridors as he headed for the Oxygen room and dropped Patton unceremoniously on the ground. He could hear the imposters gaining ground on them, and he could only hope that Janus got somewhere safe before he pulled out his tablet. The screen was almost severely damaged, but he somehow managed to get the doors closed, and not a moment too soon.

The entire room shuddered, equipment and all, as one of the somethings collided with the door, and Remus took an instinctive step back, spreading his arms out in a futile attempt to protect Patton.

“Can you deadbolt the door, Pops?” he asked, gaze never leaving the door which was likely moments away from being rent asunder.

“What?” came the quiet, fearful voice of their navigator. “I… I think so.”

“Then do it,” Remus commanded, eyes remaining on the door.

“O-okay.”

Remus tensed further when the room shook again with another hit, but he exhaled in relief when he heard Patton tap away at his tablet. It would be useless in the end, he knew, but even a little distraction would prevent complete panic, and he couldn’t have that.

And then the banging stopped.

Remus blinked in surprise, but he wouldn’t be fooled; he’d seen enough horror movies to keep himself from falling for this trick.

“Oh brother mine.”

Remus growled. “Whatever you are, you’re not my brother.”

Roman-suit chuckled through the door. “Why don’t you come out here, Dukey--”

“You don’t get to use that name!”

There was a pause, and then the room flashed red as an alarm blared.

“Dukey,” the imposter cooed. “It’s time to come out now.”

“That’s the reactor,” Patton said, tears evident in his voice.

“Shit,” Remus muttered, eyes flying everywhere to try to find an out, and the imposter laughed.

“Re-Remus?” Patton said, and all Remus could do was stare at him as all the hope drained from him. Patton crumpled a moment later and started sobbing.

Doing the only thing he could think of, Remus knelt done next to him and cradled him in his arms. As the voice counted down, he tried to pretend that it was Logan in his arms, but even the burn of the oxygen tanks exploding through him couldn’t make the lie anymore believable.

_______________________________

Day 2

Remus shot up with a gasp, clutching at the shirt section of his latex jumpsuit as his fingers instinctively clutched at the edge of… his cryopod? He blinked, looked from side to side and rubbed at his eyes. He was in the cryochamber, in the shuttle. He was in the giant dildo freezer, he was alive, and…

In his rush to look over to his right he made himself dizzy and, before he knew it, he’d fallen out of his coffin with a breathless ‘oof’.

“... You okay?”

Remus’s breath caught in his throat, threatening to choke him, but he pulled himself closer to the second pod with a groan and pulled himself up.

Logan looked up at him, slightly amused but so very exhausted, and very much alive.

[homoerotixx]

Mark of Beauty, Ray of Sunshine

[ONESHOT]

pairing: wontaek notes: i relayed this idea to my friend two days ago after a modest game of hide and seek and it was so fkn cute i had to do it. the title is kinda silly but it’s all i could think of B^) // hey by the fkn way fkn LR fkn MURDERED ME words: 1,430

"Sanghyuk thought it was dirt..." he complained, pouting his bottom lip more. Wonsik's eyes crinkled and shone in amusement. "Does it look that strange?"

"Is it a spec of dirt?"

Taekwoon leaned back, chair tipped on its back legs as his hands clutched onto the table for dear life.

"It's so cute!"

"Move, I wanna see!"

He squeezed his eyes closed and hoped that would help stave off the headache he knew would come.

"Taekwoonie, this has definitely not been there all this time."

"Or did you cover it with makeup?"

"Why? It's so pretty!"

They hardly gave him room to speak, like usual. Sanghyuk was to blame for bringing it up, for trying to wipe this "spec of dirt" off his face and attracting the attention of everyone in the house.

"I really swear it wasn't there before..." Jaehwan perched on the tabletop with crossed arms and a thoughtful expression, like he was prepared to solve the world's most sought after mysteries.

Hakyeon grabbed Taekwoon's face in his hands, ever-gentle fingers pressing into his skin, and Taekwoon nearly lost his balance. If it hadn't been for Sanghyuk grabbing the chair behind him, he would've fallen—doubtful Hakyeon would care so long as he got what he wanted.

At Hakyeon's discretion, his face was turned from left to right as other marks that might've been missed were searched for. He then settled on looking intently at the dark, perfectly placed mole under Taekwoon's right eye.

"It's so lovely!" he cooed, bumping their foreheads together.

"Hakyeon, please..."

"Does Wonsik know?" Hongbin snickered, like it was something to be embarrassed about. "I'm sure he'll die over how cute it is."

"So you do think it's cute." Jaehwan smirked.

"Cuter than you." Hongbin rolled his eyes, leaving for the kitchen.

"Hey!" Jaehwan jumped off the table. "I take offense to that! How dare you think that grandpa is cuter than me!" He ignored Hakyeon's scolding of not making noise for their neighbors downstairs while scampering after Hongbin.

Taekwoon yelped when Sanghyuk set his chair right and his face fell out of Hakyeon's hands.

"It's gives you such a cute, youthful look!" Hakyeon said, picking up a book.

"This old man?" Sanghyuk cracked, laughing like an evil villain. "No way."

"Yeah way," Hakyeon rolled his eyes, "he looks so innocent and babyish! I can't believe I never noticed it before. And I call myself your best friend." He scoffed at himself.

As he walked out of the room, Taekwoon could hear Sanghyuk asking, "Aren't you gonna take like, a billion photos for that scrapbook of yours, or what?"

Hakyeon scoffed again with a wave of his hand "Oh please. There's plenty of time to do that later."

The mere thought exhausted Taekwoon.

He slouched over on the table, cheek flattening against the lacquered wood, and sighed. His members knew how to drain his energy unlike anyone else—and the way they would whisk in and out without warning was bad for his health. They'd likely be the death of him eventually. The corner of his lips quirked at his quiet adoration for them.

"Did I miss the party?"

Taekwoon's shoulders perked at the sound of Wonsik's voice coming into the room. He dragged his head up and plopped his chin onto table; how his teeth clacked together made him regret that decision. Wonsik chuckled at his long-suffering expression as he took a seat directly across from him. With his full, pink lips, Taekwoon pouted.

"Wonsik..." he whined.

Wonsik smiled at him. "Was it about your cute little mole?" he asked, tapping under his own right eye. He bent over the table.

"Sanghyuk thought it was dirt..." he complained, pouting his bottom lip more. Wonsik's eyes crinkled and shone in amusement. "Does it look that strange?"

Not unlike Hakyeon, Wonsik cooed at him, but it didn't grate on Taekwoon as much as it had before. A blush tickled at his cheeks and he flopped his head to the side.

"I can't believe how cute you are sometimes." Wonsik chuckled. "Are you doing that on purpose?"

"To get your love and affection?" Taekwoon gibed. "Please."

Wonsik made his way around the table and Taekwoon sat up, prepared to make another smart remark, but stilled at catching the odd look on his face.

Blinking in confusion, he asked, "...What?"

There was no answer. Wonsik was fixated on something; his eyes were dark and focused somewhere on Taekwoon's face and it almost made him shift in his chair uncomfortably. Another, more self-conscious blush crept onto his cheeks. What was he thinking?

A surprised little noise vibrated in Taekwoon's throat, his lips parting, when Wonsik gently grasped his chin and lifted it. His simple touch electrified Taekwoon at a moment's notice, lighting up every nerve in his body and raising hyper-awareness in every one of his cells. The expression in Wonsik's eyes pinned him where he was. His thumb slid across the underside of Taekwoon's bottom lip, and then back over across the slick pink. Taekwoon wanted to ask, What are you doing?, but his brain wasn't capable putting words on his tongue. A sharp little breath stung his lungs when Wonsik pulled his bottom lip down and then let it bounce back into place.

Without realizing it, Taekwoon's hands had risen to Wonsik's narrow hips, fingers curling into the fabric of his jeans. In his chest, his heart fluttered and he was sure Wonsik could feel it beating hard in his face.

Wonsik tilted his head up more and then leaned down. Their lips were in sudden close proximity of each other and the fluttering of Taekwoon's heart was now a hammering. No matter how many times they shared the same breath, every kiss left him more spent than the last. Wonsik's lips only brushed against his before moving, and Taekwoon was caught off guard when they pressed against the skin under his right eye. The round of his cheek pushed up into his lower eyelid, curving his eye into a crescent with the push of Wonsik's lips.

What was a few seconds felt like an eternity to Taekwoon; Wonsik's lips were soft and warm despite how chapped they normally were. He pulled back, still holding Taekwoon's chin, and a gentle, fond smile pulled at his lips. Taekwoon was completely enamored with his expression, his heart still hammering against his ribcage. His eyes fluttered, half with confusion and half entirely smitten.

"So cute, my Taekwoon." Wonsik murmured with curved eyes. His hand rose up to cup the side of his face so his thumb could stroke at the spot where his lips had just been. "No, it doesn't look weird. It makes you even more beautiful."

Without thinking, Taekwoon pushed himself out of his chair and his left hand naturally found Wonsik's right hand. Their fingers laced and Taekwoon leaned forward to catch Wonsik's lips, and this time it was Wonsik's turn to let out a surprised squeak when their bodies flushed together. Wonsik's other arm fell from his face to wrap around his waist, trying to hold his balance between Taekwoon and the table. Taekwoon hadn't meant for his force to make the furniture scratch across the wood; Hakyeon would probably have their hides for that.

Satisfied, Wonsik hummed against Taekwoon's lips and it resonated through every part of Taekwoon's body. Taekwoon almost let the electricity of the moment spur him into pushing Wonsik onto the table, but they were in the dining room and the other members were still close by.

Their mouths came apart with a soft smack and Taekwoon blinked back into himself, still clasping Wonsik's hand. Wonsik's breath was a little labored, but he beamed at Taekwoon and then broke into a beautiful laugh. The sound poured into Taekwoon like sunshine and he dropped his head onto Wonsik's shoulder, eyes crinkling as he smiled into his shirt.

"I love you so much." Wonsik said between laughs, and Taekwoon's heart swelled.

"Are you sure?" he asked, "Or is it just the eye mole?"

"Well..." Wonsik trailed off mischievously.

With faux offense, Taekwoon jerked back and slapped at Wonsik's arm, and he laughed more.

"It's a very pretty mole, Taekwoon, what do you want from me?"

Dropping the silly act, Taekwoon glanced off to the side, self-conscious again. "...I'm glad you like it."

Wonsik leaned in to kiss it one more gratuitous time. He liked the way Taekwoon's warm skin felt under his lips. "Just like I like you, love."

Taekwoon was going to reply, picking his smartness back up from earlier, but someone in the background retched.

"Are you guys seriously trying to fuck on the table again?" Sanghyuk gagged, holding his stomach.

While Taekwoon glared at him, Wonsik laughed.