#it’s just like.. my god. 200 ends. for ONE MITTEN | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-pontiac-bandit · 7 years ago

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all the way home i’ll be warm

so, thanks to @jakelovesamy for the prompt, and to her and @elsaclack for all of the help!! i’m only including the prompt because it seems important that y’all all know that this started as a creepy cabin drabble. (title is from “let it snow” bc yes i Obviously wrote a christmas fic in mid-june)

99. “We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.”

Jake Peralta has never enjoyed the outdoors. Sure, that one Cub Scouts camping trip in first grade was pretty fun, but that was mostly because his dad was Assistant Scoutmaster that year, and Jake got to stay up until the sun started to rise, making s’mores with Charlie Daniels and his brother. Adult Jake Peralta prefers snow plows, massage chairs, modern insulation, and easy-access delivery food.

Which makes the fact that he agreed to spend Christmas in a cabin in the middle of nowhere in upstate New York with his new wife’s family a remarkable testament to just how much he loves said new wife.

Of course, the Santiagos are a remarkably awesome bunch of people. Victor warmed up to him - finally - when Jake told the Santiagos about his intentions to marry Amy. He showed them the ring, and Victor decided that anyone who had managed to save up that much money with a credit score below 200 was plenty tenacious enough to be a Santiago. Her brothers, meanwhile, had warmed to him as soon as they learned how much he loved basketball and good cop movies (Luis once told him that there were so many Santiago brothers it wasn’t even that noticeable when they picked up a few extra along the way. Jake had never felt more thrilled to be so entirely a part of something).

Even with all that awesome, being snowed in with all of the Santiagos in an eight-bedroom “cabin” (it’s definitely way too large for that title, and yet still somehow too small for all seven brothers, their spouses, and the kids) for four days over Christmas was not his idea of a dream vacation. Jake has no idea exactly how many nieces and nephews he now has, but he knows that there are at least twenty children that made it to the cabin ranging from scarily-new infants to surly teenagers, and they all call him Tio Jake with an excitement that warms his heart.

That many kids with that few bedrooms, though, means that someone is always sleeping somewhere strange. Usually on the floor. Definitely at a weird time of day. And Jake definitely almost steps on them on his way to the kitchen for more Cheetos (Manny brought a seemingly endless supply - he keeps pulling more from his car every time the boys finish a bag. Jake is eternally grateful).

Amy always seems to know who’s sleeping where (she also knows all of their names, of course, because she’s a perfect aunt who filled up their entire trunk with personalized gifts for each child and all her brothers, leaving Jake with a much better understanding of why they couldn’t afford Paris).

There is a constant hum of noise in the cabin. On the first day, which Jake obnoxiously calls Christmas Eve-Eve to anyone who will listen, everyone is in and out - exploring the nearby town, enjoying the fresh air, playing games of soccer on frozen ground that gives Jake a bruise on his hip when he tries to bicycle kick for the winning point. All in all, a great first day.

Then, that night, the snow starts to fall. At first, it’s some flurries. Just enough snow to be romantic - when it falls, it’s light and fresh, and Jake’s been to the country before, but just rarely enough that seeing fresh, fluffy snow surrounding him is a novelty. The Santiagos, who grew up with a huge backyard and spent their winters rolling around in snow that no dogs had peed in, were less impressed, and thought he was insane for wanting to spend that much time in the woods in the snow at night.

But then Amy walked outside with Jake in her heaviest parka, and they stood together and watched it fall, illuminated by the faded light coming out of the cabin, where the Santiagos were playing the largest game of Apples to Apples he’d ever seen. Everything was perfect, and just a little bit magical, and when he leaned down to kiss her, he could see the snowflakes that had settled on her eyelashes.

Jake is thoroughly enjoying the feel of her lips against his, even if that’s the only skin-to-skin contact available with all the layers, even though the pom pom on top of his hat is slowly pulling the entire garment forward to cover his eyes, but it ends when Amy decides her hands are freezing - even in their wool mittens - and tells him very pointedly that if he likes what her hands were going to do later, he’d best go inside and save them from frostbite. After that, he moves very quickly back towards the fire the Santiagos lit in the living room (carefully guarded by the oldest cousin, college freshman Anna, to prevent any accidental burns to the five year-old twins racing past).

Everything is perfect until the next morning, Christmas Eve, when he wakes up to nearly two feet of snow on the ground outside. Of course nothing is plowed and of course their cars are buried and of course there are somehow now nearly forty people stuck in what used to feel like a very large “cabin” and Jake’s thinking everyone should have just gotten hotel rooms in the city instead, no matter how pretty the untouched snow is.

Jake and Amy are up ridiculously early, thanks to the wails of the baby that radiate from the room they share walls with. Jake gently pushes Amy back to sleep when she starts to get up to go take care of her niece - she never lets herself sleep, and she’s been absolutely exhausted lately. She deserves this.

So Jake finds himself in the kitchen with Luis, Manny, and Joel, sitting in flannel pajama pants and overlarge matching t-shirts (Joel designed Family Reunion 2018 shirts. Jake never wants to take his off). Children are playing quietly around him - all of them are aware that moms, dads, and older siblings are trying to sleep, and they’re Santiagos, so of course they’re complying. Jake’s enjoying his Frosted Flakes (also courtesy of Manny), and reveling in the early morning quiet (at least, compared to Santiagos at full volume), compounded by the thick coat of snow on the ground outside.

It’s Luis who breaks the comfortable silence, clearing his throat and shifting in his seat. His daughter Lucia, just barely three months old, is cradled in his arm, and he’s clutching a steaming cup of black coffee for dear life with the other hand.

“Man, thank God she fell back asleep. Sometimes she just won’t stop crying in the mornings, and I can’t exactly take her outside in this weather. Would’ve been a fun wakeup call for everyone.”

Joel shoots a pointed look at his little brother, just fourteen months older than Amy. “But it’s so worth it. I remember when the twins were that little - a handful, but the best gift I could have asked for.” His gaze rests squarely on Jake, looking inquisitive, and Jake squirms a little bit under the intense stare.

Manny jumps in shockingly quickly to support his brother. “Yeah, Sarah and I only got married a year ago, but we’re already talking about it - we just can’t wait to have some of our own. What about you, Jake? Any kids in your future?”

Jake laughs a little, feeling a bit uncomfortable but brushing it off - brothers must talk like this all the time. “Oh, I’d say they’re definitely somewhere down the line, but definitely not anytime soon. There’s a life calendar hanging above our bed that says no kids until Amy’s a lieutenant, at least.”

Luis starts to laugh, but he’s quickly silenced by Joel, nearly thirteen years his senior, elbowing him in the side. He swallows his giggles, looking furtively at Jake, but their new brother-in-law hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.

They talk about their kids for a while, and Jake explains the elaborate color-coding system that Amy devised to pack for this four-day vacation. Then the boys give Jake, whose past experience with Christmas has been iffy and mostly related to Santa Claus, the lowdown on the innumerable Santiago family Christmas traditions.

The calm lasts until nearly 7:30, when Isabel Santiago emerges from the master bedroom, Victor looking a little sheepish at her heels. Jake had quickly learned at his first family event with the Santiagos that for all his commanding presence, Victor Santiago is constantly a little cowed and a little quiet when his wife is around. Isabel is furious that anyone let her sleep this late when there are grandbabies to feed and snowball fights to be had and children to catch up with. Jake quickly vacates the kitchen, knowing full well that any cooking done in his presence will quickly devolve into spilled batter and (somehow inevitably) explosions.

Back in his room, he decides to brush his teeth and hair and make some pretense to his new family that he’s less messy than this. His toiletries are stored carefully in the bathroom, in a nice case Amy got him to replace the messy gallon-Ziploc that never quite dried that he previously relied on. Everything is perfectly packed, and he knows exactly where it is. But when he tries the door, it’s locked.

“Amy,” he calls softly, not wanting her brothers to hear them through the frustratingly thin walls (seriously, how did Amy do this for eighteen years?).

“Jake? What do you need?” Amy’s voice is terse, barely audible. The shower isn’t running, so Jake decides she must be using the bathroom. He tries the handle again, wondering if it was just stuck, but nope - still locked.

Amy’s voice comes through the door again. “Can it wait, babe?”

He sighs. “Yeah.”

Then two minutes pass. Then three. The toilet never flushes, and he can smell French toast being fried in the kitchen all the way from their tiny bedroom in the back.

“Babe? I just need my toothbrush.”

“Just two more minutes, Jake. Please.” Her voice is tense, stressed, and a little hoarse, and he’s not entirely sure why.

“This is taking forever,” he whines. Then, a pause. “Babe, are you,” he brings his voice down to a whisper, “pooping?”

There’s a cough, then few seconds of silence from inside the bathroom. Then, a relieved sigh. “Yes, Jake. I’m pooping.”

“Amy, I’ve seen you poop before. Let me in.”

“How on earth am I going to do that?”

“Right.”

And he waits patiently until - finally - he hears a toilet flush, and she lets him in. The bathroom smells a little musty, reminding him somehow of their bathroom the week they both had the stomach flu. Her face is a flushed, and her eyes are a bit wild, darting around the way that they do when she’s stressed or anxious. Before he has time to question it or make sure she’s okay, though, he hears Manny call from just inside the door to their room that breakfast is ready and everyone else is eating. Amy replies that they’re coming, so Jake pours some toothpaste in his mouth, swallows quickly, and follows his wife (he’ll never get tired of thinking that) out the door.

All of the Santiagos are gathered around every flat surface in the living area of the cabin, each with a steaming pile of French toast, bacon, and strawberries. All of the weirdness of this morning is forgotten as he plops on the couch next to Luis with his own plate, leaving a corner of the couch for Amy. The pair immediately start discussing the Knicks’ playoff prospects with a few Santiago nephews sitting on the floor nearby (Jake’s pretty sure their names are Robert and Matty, but he can't be entirely sure. Everyone looks alike - those Santiago genes are strong.)

He’s so busy trying to convince his new family that the Knicks will win tomorrow by a full 70 points that he doesn't notice that Amy spends most of the meal taking deep breaths and leaves her French toast, her favorite breakfast, almost entirely untouched.

As soon as the conversation lulls, the sound in the room transitioning from lively conversation to quiet groans of sated contentment, Amy jumps up to start collecting plates. Her mother quickly follows, as she always does. They wave off all help (although not much is offered - everyone is far too full to move) from brothers and spouses, and even from Jake, and mother and daughter bustle off to the kitchen together.

Moms and dads, startled by the sudden lack of a syrup-covered plate in their lap, jolt to alertness, rushing to scrub powdered sugar, syrup, and orange juice off the faces of their children before they can ruin the furniture in the rented cabin. In the midst of the sudden reinstatement of chaos, Joel’s wife Mari stares at Jake, catching and holding his eyes. Then, seemingly unintentionally, her gaze shifts from him to the still-open kitchen door, out of which the clinking sounds of dishware being washed are emerging over the tumult of voices in the living room.

He gets the message (he thinks - that was a pretty weird look) and gets up to help his wife in the kitchen. He’s happy to go help anyway - after all, he has nothing to do to help clean up the plethora of nieces and nephews surrounding him, and he likes to be useful.

He’s stopped dead in his tracks at the door to the kitchen, though. Isabel Santiago is giving him a terrifying glare that is - like Amy’s - eerily reminiscent of that of a middle school librarian. It stops him in his tracks, and somehow, he knows to stay there. But instead of abandoning the room, going back to play with Robert and Matty, the eight year-olds who informed him during breakfast that he’s the coolest uncle they know, he backs away and sneaks behind the door, watching through the crack between the hinges, so that Mrs. Santiago doesn’t know he’s there.

Amy is gesticulating wildly at her mother, clearly frantic. When her hands reach up to start twisting her hair, though, her mom grabs them gently, says something, and pulls her only daughter into a hug. He can’t make out what’s being said over the din of the room behind him, but the cadence sounds distinctly like Spanish, so he knows he wouldn’t be able to follow even if everyone else would just shut up.

He’s relieved, though, to see Amy’s shoulders relax into her mother’s arms. He’s not sure what’s wrong, but clearly her mother has it under control. The sight of Amy’s breath steadying, her hands relaxing, calms him - whatever it is clearly can't be that bad.

And he's right. He’d returned to his room to change out of pajama pants (although this is the perfect kind of day for a pajama-jammy-jam) when Amy walks in, hugging him from behind and pressing her face into his shoulder.

He lets her stay that way for a few seconds, before pulling her arms just loose enough that he can turn around in her grip and properly hug her back. They stay that way, uninterrupted and holding each other close, for far longer than they should be able to, what with every single child in the house barging into their room at all hours to get some one-on-one time with their favorite aunt.

Finally, she pulls back, placing a quick peck on his lips before opening the top drawer of the dresser to find jeans and a sweater (before Amy, Jake didn't even know you could unpack on vacation, so he takes a second to marvel at the fact that he doesn't even have the opportunity to wreck the organization of their shared suitcase).

“So...you're okay?” he asks, a little tentatively.

Her back stiffens when he asks, and she freezes, one pants leg on, the other leg in the air. Then, in just a second, she's back to normal. In a carefully measured voice, she replies, “Yeah, babe, I’m fine. Why wouldn't I be?”

“I saw you talking to your mom, and you looked pretty upset.”

“Oh, that!” she replies, just a little too quickly. “I forgot the present for Mateo, and I didn’t know what to do, but my mom had an extra, so we’re giving him that!”

Jake’s pretty sure that he remembers writing Mateo’s gift tag himself, is almost certain it’s sitting near the side of the pile in their trunk, but he knows better than to argue. If Amy says it’s not there, then it’s definitely not there.

And then they hear Victor calling for them to come help decorate the Christmas tree that Diego drove up from New Jersey for the cabin, so instead of protesting, he grabs her as her head pops through the crew neck of her sweater (her softest one, which makes it by far his favorite) and plants a firm kiss on her lips. She laughs through it, wiggling away and protesting that we can’t do this, Jake, my dad might be coming in!

But then, when they hear her father’s footsteps fade into the background, she turns around and surprises him with a quick kiss before walking off, expecting him to follow. He does, but only after spending a few seconds marveling that the woman walking off with a new bounce in her step and a swing in her shiny ponytail is married to him.

Jake emerges into the crowded living room only a few steps behind his wife to happily discover that most of the younger children have been sent outside to play and release some energy. This means that the living room, while still loud - thanks to the room full of Santiagos, whose grasp of volume control is iffy at best - is full of the hum of polite conversation, rather than the screams of children trying to play tag between the boxes of ornaments, provided by Isabel.

When everyone sees them enter, though, the conversation comes to an abrupt halt. All eyes are trained on Jake and Amy, standing a few feet apart at the front of the room. Isabel starts to get up, takes a deep breath to say something, and then Amy shakes her head. It’s almost imperceptible, and if her ponytail wasn’t quite so bouncy, Jake wouldn’t have seen it at all.

Immediately, conversation resumes, as though nothing had ever happened, leaving Jake to wonder if he was imagining everything. Still standing in front of everyone, he leans in and whispers the question to Amy, who just shrugs in response - as if to say my family’s weird - deal with it.

So he does. He finds Luis sitting and untangling Christmas lights with Alex, their oldest brother. Alex looks up as Jake sits down, and a smile lights up his face as he claps Jake on the back.

“Congratulations, budd--” Alex is cut off abruptly from a sharp elbow from Luis that Jake definitely did not imagine.

Both men are looking at him warily, looking a little nervous for reasons that Jake can’t even begin to parse. They're silent for 10 seconds, and then 10 more, just watching him expectantly.

Then finally, with a relieved sigh, Luis breaks the silence. “Anyway, Jake, wanna give this string a shot? We can't get this knot out to save our lives.”

So Jake takes the lights they hold out for him and gets to work, doing his best to forget about the weird way that Alex had been staring at him.

Thankfully, untangling the lights turns out to be so consuming that he does manage to put his weird morning out of his mind for a little while. He has no idea how lights could have gotten this bad, until Alex explains that his kids used them as a rope for a hostage situation game that summer and put them away themselves. He’s a little impressed, honestly - figuring out how to untangle these lights might be a harder puzzle than any he's managed to solve with the NYPD.

Finally, though, he is able to hand Victor, who is taking meticulous instructions from Isabel about where the lights should be strung, a perfectly untangled strand of Christmas lights to add to the tree. The children are called back in to add ornaments to the now-lit tree (which stands taller than the trees Jake’s managed to squeeze into any of his apartments). The stomping of boots on the front mat sounds like a herd of elephants entering the house, and it lasts for what feels like an eternity as more and more kids traipse through, tracking an unbelievable amount of snow through the living room on their way to put up their coats.

His job done, Jake moves to the couch and squeezes into the impossibly small space left between Amy and the arm of the couch. Amy, laughing at the noises he makes as he tries to force his butt into the few available inches, gets up, settling on his lap as soon as he sits down.

Her head comes to rest against his shoulder as the kids reemerge, loud and ready to decorate. They watch the tree slowly acquire character via the addition of all sorts of ornaments - from fancy gold family heirlooms that only nineteen year-old Anna and her brother Sam can touch, hung high at the top of the tree, to paper drawings strung with yarn that two year-old Eliza drapes proudly on the bottom branches, balancing tentatively on chubby legs.

Amy slowly snuggles closer as they watch the scene unfold, so that her legs are folded on the couch (she may or may not give Luis, sitting next to them and playing with Lucia, a small kick as she pulls them up, just in case he’s done something today to deserve it), and Jake wraps his arms around her. Two of the thirteen year-olds are making faces at them and pretending to vomit in the corner, but Amy just laughs and plants a kiss on Jake’s cheek to bother her nephews.

Jake notices, when the tree is about halfway done and a few of the brothers are getting up to help their kids even out the ornament distribution (Jake has long-since discovered that Amy comes by her OCD honestly), that Isabel Santiago is watching him closely. She seems to have fixated on his arms, draped lazily over his wife’s (her daughter’s) abdomen. He can't read her expression, despite all his years of detective work, but he sits up straighter, trying to match the professionalism of Joel and his wife, sitting in the opposite corner of the room and gently holding hands in separate chairs.

As he shifts, though, Amy groans her objection, nuzzling her face deeper into his chest. That's when he realizes his wife is half-asleep. So instead, he settles back, deciding Mrs. Santiago must have been looking at something else - a quick glance confirms that she’s now talking to Diego’s wife animatedly about Christmas Eve dinner plans.

Finally, the tree is done. Isabel brings out sandwiches for everyone (Jake has no idea when she had time to make them. He’s at least 80% sure his mother-in-law is magical.), and lunch is finished in 10 minutes flat.

By this time, it's mid-afternoon, and there’s just a few hours until Christmas Eve dinner preparation begins in earnest. Matty and Robert beg their fathers for a snowball fight, and they agree eagerly, and before Jake really realizes what happened, everyone is getting up to go find coats and enjoy the hour or two of true daylight remaining.

Jake wakes Amy up (she claims drowsily that she’s been awake the whole time, thank you very much), and as they get up, Manny and Luis wander over to ask if Jake and Amy will be joining. Jake accepts enthusiastically, but Amy shakes her head.

“I don't think a snowball fight is up my alley today,” Amy apologizes with a yawn.

“Right! Because of the--” Manny starts, and then shuts his mouth so hard his teeth clack.

Amy gives him her special death glare, usually reserved for Charles when he starts talking in meticulous detail about her reproductive system.

Luis just laughs and drags Manny away, but Jake doesn't miss the excited hug Manny and Luis exchange when they think they're out of sight. Things are starting to get undeniably weird, Jake decides, furrowing his brow.

Amy is leading Jake back to their room when they find Isabel herself standing in their path. “Amy, could I borrow Jake for a moment? I need help with something, and your brothers are useless.”

Amy tries to glare at her mother, telling her silently to back off. But Isabel glares right back, and all of a sudden, Jake feels like he’s watching Amy look into a trick mirror at a fair - every mannerism is identical.

To no one’s surprise, Isabel wins, and Amy drops Jake’s hand, throwing one last concerned look over her shoulder as she continues to their room. Amy may have her mother’s glare, but her mother has an extra 37 years of practice.

Isabel starts to walk towards the kitchen, perhaps the only empty room in the house, and Jake follows automatically.

When they get there, she closes the door and turns slowly towards Jake. Slowly, carefully, she says, “You know, Amy loves you. A lot.”

Jake, feeling almost as nervous as when he asked them for their blessing to marry Amy, replies with the first dumb quip that comes to mind: “I’d hope so - we've been married for six months now!”

Isabel chuckles a little at that, seeming to loosen up. "I know. And we're all happy to have you as a part of the family," she reaches up touch his shoulder, her expression turning back to something more serious. "I know Amy likes to take care of herself. She's been like that her whole life - she didn't even want our help as a toddler learning to walk, which didn't go down well. There was the whole puddle incident," Isabel gets a far off look in her eyes for a few seconds before focussing back in on Jake, who has a host of questions about the phrase puddle incident. "I know she likes to take care of herself, but you're taking care of her too, right? We all need a little taking care of sometimes."

"Of course! We take care of each other - when she lets me," Jake shrugs, like it's obvious.

"Thank you," Isabel smiles a warm smile. "I knew I could trust you, Jake. I'm just reminded how lucky I am at times like these, that all my babies grew up and made such perfect families themselves. All these grandbabies!" Isabel gestures around as if there are grandbabies escaping from every crevice of the house (in fairness, they definitely are).

"They're all pretty special," Jake agrees, remembering the chorus of Tio Jake. No two words any adult (except for Amy) could say would make his heart feel so full.

"All so unique, and so precious." Isabel adds. And I just wanted to tell you how thrilled we all are that you all could be here with us this Christmas - I know it was hard to get off work, but it’s good for Amy to be with family, especially this year.”

Jake has already started to spew words about how of course they were thrilled to be here and it was never a question that they'd find a way to make it and they love seeing everyone. And then her last words register, and he pauses, his mind swirling as he looks for any explanation for what she might mean.

"What do you mean this year? Is-" he lowers his voice "is someone sick? Does Amy know?"

"No one's sick," she chuckles softly, "but Amy has been feeling a little under the weather. There's a special tea I have, it used to help me when...I mean, it helps with the nausea. I'll get you some to take up to her." Isabel starts for the cupboards, rifling around in the ones above her head. Jake isn't sure she can even see in there.

"Do you need any help?" He offers, but just then Isabel produces a lilac box and nods approvingly at it.

The tea takes five minutes to make, but Jake's distracted for most of it by Matty, who comes in with a hacky sack, which Jake can't say no to. The kid is surprisingly good, and Jake’s out-of-practice, leading to more than one miss and several repetitions of the phrase, “Aw! I boofed it!”

Isabel finally hands Jake a steaming cup of tea, which he carefully starts to carry back to Amy.

"Make sure she's getting enough sleep, too!" Isabel says as Jake starts turn away.

"Uh...I will, I guess?"

She laughs at his confusion, ruffles his hair (she has to reach up on her tip toes to do it), and hands him a cookie (Jake has no idea where she got it, but Isabel always has cookies. Jake loves her dearly for it).

With that, Jake knows he’s been dismissed. He walks out of the kitchen much faster than he should with the tea, carrying the cookie in his mouth.

When he finally navigates his way towards the glorified closet that he and Amy are sharing this Christmas, he throws open the door dramatically, startling Amy, who’s sitting on the bed wrapping a plain white box in red-and-green patterned wrapping paper (Jake remembers her packing the extra wrapping paper over his strenuous objections about the fact that there are no more gifts to wrap and there’s no possible way that she’s forgotten a gift for anyone - she even had one for Alex’s new puppy.)

“Babe,” Jake says frantically, his mouth still full of cookie, “I think your family is trying to kill us!”

“What?” Jake rarely catches Amy off guard anymore - she knows him almost as well as she knows herself. But he can see clearly that he’s surprised her with this.

“D’you think your brothers are still mad at you for that time you busted their party?” Jake is busy running through a list of every possible reason they could be on a Santiago hit list, but he’s discovering the list is pretty short.

“No way - I was nine!”

“Maybe it’s just me! Maybe they know 145 isn't a good credit score! Ames, what if they discovered I don't have a favorite font?”

At that, Amy gets up off the bed and walks over to him. “Babe, they already know that. And you do have a favorite font - it’s the title font from the Die Hard poster, remember? Everything’s totally normal - nothing bad’s gonna happen.”

The statement was clearly supposed to make him relax, and she turns around to find his coat for him so that he can go outside and join in the snowball fight, but Jake isn't satisfied. Then he notices that the peals of laughter he’s hearing are coming from outside, rather than inside, the house, and he realizes that they must be totally alone inside. The knowledge that they're alone in a snowed-in cabin adds an extra sense of eeriness to the afternoon light filtering through the clouds.

“Babe, we’re in an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere. Suuure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.”

Abandoning the search for his coat, Amy grabs him by one hand and drags him back to sit down on the bed with her. “First of all, the cabin isn't abandoned - everyone is, like, ten feet outside the front door. Second, we’re on family vacation - you've been watching way too much true crime if you think someone’s trying to kill us. So what’s bugging you?”

Jake pauses for a moment, takes a deep breath, and then lets everything out in a rush. “Your mom just pulled me aside to make sure I knew to take care of you because you love me and everyone keeps staring at me and Manny congratulated me and I don't know why and you were even being weird about pooping this morning and they’re definitely up to something really freaky, babe!”

And then he’s cut off by Amy’s laughter. She’s fallen backwards on the bed and is clutching her stomach as deep belly laughs escape into the still air of the cabin. Jake just glares at her - he can’t believe she’d be laughing about something this serious! They’re in an abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods (she can’t convince him otherwise) and their lives are on the line!

Finally, slowly, Amy catches her breath. When she’s gotten herself under control enough to speak again, she says the last thing he’d ever expect: “Want an early Christmas present?”

In shock, Jake replies, “Babe! Now is not the time for early Christmas presents! Now’s the time to dig out the car!”

“Jake.” She gives him The Look, the one that means that he’s being ridiculous and he needs to stop and listen. “Open the gift.” And she hands him the mostly-wrapped box that has been sitting forgotten on their pillow.

Still uttering half-hearted protests, he tears at the wrapping paper to expose the plain white box inside (what can he say? He’s a sucker for gifts). It looks vaguely like a box a tie might come in, and he looks up at her. “Santiago, clothes aren’t gonna fix the fact that something creepy is definitely coming.”

“Keep opening, Peralta.”

So he does. When he takes off the top, he looks up at her. She waits patiently for him to look down, to actually register what’s inside the box. When he finally does, his jaw drops as some still-unidentified emotion bubbles up in his stomach.

Because lying inside the box is a positive pregnancy test.

“I took it this morning, when you were with Manny and Luis and I’d woken up to throw up again and Mari bought it for me yesterday when they went into town and I was gonna give it to you first thing tomorrow morning but you’re in the middle of a weird...Jake?”

The sound of his name jerks him out of his reverie. Slowly, he looks up at his wife, a grin painted across his face from ear to ear (he’s pretty sure no one could wipe off this grin - not even the still-possibly-murderous Santiagos playing outside). Then, he’s tackling her back into the pillows at the head of the bed, being careful of her abdomen while their laughter mingles and fills the still-silent cabin.

Their legs are tangled and his arms are wrapped around her and her hands are combing through his hair and he’s never felt this disgustingly, blatantly happy in his life. “Santiago...You’re really pregnant?” he asks, awe saturating every word.

She nods in response, a smile growing quickly on her face. “You’re really happy about it?” she asks.

In response, he shifts forward and kisses her firmly. It’s far from their most graceful kiss - their teeth keep clacking because neither of them can stop smiling long enough to kiss the other properly. Jake doesn’t mind, though, because he’s too distracted by the pure, unadulterated joy that’s radiating up from his chest and out through his face and out through his fingers and the very tips of his toes.

Finally he pulls back. “Yeah,” he answers with a laugh. “I guess I’m pretty happy about it.”

She hits his shoulder lightly, rolling her eyes at her dumb husband that she loves so much. And he’s too busy thinking about the fact that Amy’s pregnant and all of the possibilities that that fact brings to even pretend it hurt. Instead, he shifts one hand slightly, gently, so that it comes to rest just over her belly button.

“You know, you can’t feel him kick yet.”

“I know! And him? It’s obviously a girl that we’re obviously naming Nakatomi!”

“Jake, Santiagos have boys. Always. Trust me, this kid is a boy.” She sounds so sure, but he can’t stop himself from giggling (he might never be able to stop giggling because he doesn’t think happiness this strong will ever wear off. It’s pulsing steadily next to his heart, filling him with the same warmth he felt when he saw Amy do the Double Tuck in her white dress as she walked down the aisle).

“Ames, they had you.”

She’s opening her mouth to retort, but the mention of the Santiagos reminds Jake how this whole conversation started in the first place. “Babe, this is all very exciting and everything, but it has nothing to do with why your family was acting so weird. Either you need to explain or we need to get the hell out of this creepy cabin. Something definitely just creaked and we’re the only ones inside!”

“Jake...that was you. You just moved and the bed creaked. And, to answer your other question, my family...might have known.” She sounds a little sheepish, but mostly she just sounds blissfully happy.

Jake looks at her in obviously fake indignation. “Amy! You told your family before you told me?”

“In fairness to me, my mom actually is the one who told me!”

Jake looks at her a little incredulously. “Babe. Come on. You keep track of everything to the hour. There’s no way you didn’t know about this.”

“I’m serious! I was a little late and pretty tired and nauseous, but didn’t think anything of it. My mom took one look at me and pulled me aside and told me. She’s had so many kids she just knows, Jake. Joel and Alex and my dad figured it out on their own, too - they’ve seen my mom have so many kids it takes them, like, half a second to pick out a pregnant woman. Between the four of them, things...got around pretty quickly. They’re all pretty horrible at keeping secrets.”

“No kidding.” Jake thinks back to the millions of weird looks that he’d forced himself to disregard and the dozen weird conversations he’d had since yesterday morning.

“They just get really excited about new grandkids, and they couldn’t wait for you to be excited, too.” Her voice is soft, as is her smile, and her hand has drifted towards his cheek.

“Trust me. I am.” He leans in to kiss her, a proper one this time. And it’s amazing and fireworks are exploding behind his eyelids and he hasn’t been this truly happy in...maybe ever and she’s rolling him over to straddle him and her hands are finding the buttons on his shirt, but then, a small voice is shouting outside their (thankfully closed) door to come outside. With a startled laugh, they break apart, jumping up impressively quickly to seated positions on opposite sides of the bed. Amy shouts back at her niece that they’ll be out in just a sec, and she begins searching for the coats and boots that they’d thrown off so hastily last night while Jake frantically buttons his shirt.

“There’s really no way we can get out of going outside?” Jake asks, a little disappointed.

“Remember when you were so excited for the snowball fight?” Amy retorts, a huge grin cracking across her face.

“Yeah, but now there are better things to do!”

And with that, Amy hands her husband his coat and boots, grabs his hand, and drags him to the front door. They emerge with his arm over her shoulder and her arm around his waist (she’ll say she just needs to be kept warm, but really she just can’t stay away from him). They watch on the side for a while, and at first, everyone leaves them alone (or at least, no one throws snowballs at them).

Jake’s so busy looking down at his wife, who’s positively radiant, that he doesn’t notice the sappy grins being thrown their way by every single adult in the clearing.

They stay that way, blissfully unaware of the screaming children and the happy smiles from Mr. and Mrs. Santiago and the high fives Manny and Luis are throwing each other because their baby sister is having a baby, for quite a while.

And then Joel ruins it. “Ay! Peralta! Stop making eyes at your wife and get in here!” And then a large snowball hits Jake’s face.

Jake roars with laughter as he bends down to start making his own ammo, but he’s slow - certainly unused to the speed at which Santiagos can form snowballs. He’s getting pelted from all sides, and the kids have joined in, and one dumped a pile of snow down his back while he bent down to make another snowball and he’s going down.

And then Amy throws a snowball. It hits Joel square in the face, and he backs up, sputtering. Manny starts to charge, but he’s gotten a heaping pile of snow to the face before he can get anywhere near her (she’d shifted while everyone was distracted, placing herself strategically behind her parents and using them as a human shield that none of her brothers could touch). One by one, the Santiago brothers and their spouses go down, their children getting distracted by the prospect of tackling their own parents into the snow. Jake’s more than a little impressed with her accuracy - now he knows why her aim with a gun is so good.

And then he’s able to stand up, brushing the snow off his jacket and shaking it out of his hair but mostly looking at Amy, who’s all sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks as she gives her dad a high five. And then Victor Santiago is pulling his daughter into the tightest hug Jake’s ever seen and if he’s not mistaken a tear is leaking out of his eye (no - he must be mistaken - that’s definitely just melting snow) and Amy’s laughing a little and he can see her lips moving, reminding them that it’s still early and they’re not even supposed to know, but none of it seems to resonate because then her mom’s joined in the hug and Luis has found Jake watching all of this unfold.

“Congrats, man.” He pulls Jake into a quick hug, clapping him on the back before he releases him.

“Thanks,” Jake says, and he’s surprised to hear his voice crack a little bit on the word.

“Yes! I finally got to say it!” Luis shouts so loudly that Jake falls back down into the snow, startled.

Later that night, after the Christmas Eve dinner that was so amazing Jake may never need to eat again and the midnight mass that they all had to traipse through the snowy woods to get to, Jake and Amy finally get to lie down, limbs tangled as she rests her head against his chest. She’s in her flannel pajama pants and his academy sweatshirt, and he’s wearing her family’s reunion t-shirt, and he’s maybe never been more in love.

His wife is already three-quarters asleep - it’s almost midnight, and pregnancy has made her constantly, painfully exhausted. But through the thin walls, the sounds of her siblings putting out presents from Santa drift in, and he can’t help but smile. He’s pretty sure it’s Luis who stubs his toe and lets out a string of Spanish curses, and he’s guessing it’s Alex who shuts him up so abruptly. He laughs a little bit, quietly, and Amy shifts against him.

“Next year, that’ll be us, babe.”

She grins up at him, her eyes heavy lidded and her hair already a little mussed in its ponytail. “Can’t wait.”

#b99 #brooklyn 99 #jake x amy #jake peralta #amy santiago #the entire santiago family #literally the entire gang's here #peraltiago fanfic #my writing #ANYWAY YALL #THE CREEPY CABIN AU DRABBLE TURNED INTO A CHRISTMAS PREGNANCY FIC #AND U SHOULD READ IT

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mittensmorgul · 8 years ago

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Between the promo and the interview with Dabb. It's important to see the love professed between persons they are not blood family but they are Family. I will only say that love is different but not least. I love that Dean says "Cas is my best friend" because a friend can be a brother, confidant, ally, encompasses a lot of things. And I Iike Dabb to say "Everybody looking for their place" Because they are all important. Castiel is one of a kind and he has to find his own place in the universe.

Yeah.

(And just for the record, Mr. Mittens is my best friend.)

(we’ve been married for almost 20 years)

(but he’s definitely my best friend)

And really, the whole “Everybody looking for their place” thing is something we’ve been flailing over FOR YEARS. ACTUAL MULTIPLE YEARS.

*note to say that I would provide ALL the quotes, but the superwiki’s been down all day, so this is literally entirely off the top of my head. All receipts can be found buried in my blog, but for the purposes of answering this in a timely fashion, *boom* you get the stuff I can remember without looking it up… :D*

*second note to say I’m putting this under a cut because damn… I wrote over 3k on the subject and whoa it’s long*

Let’s start with Dean (because really this show, for me, starts and ends with Dean)

Dean, in 10.16, with his whole confessional scene. Thinking about the things… people he wants to experience differently. Maybe even for the first time.

But this isn’t even really a new notion for Dean. At the beginning of the series we were first introduced to this cocky dude who had this whole loner/rebel thing going on… but that image got turned on its head by the end of the second episode (the third episode drowned that perception of Dean in a lake). He spent most of s2 feeling like he wasn’t even supposed to be ALIVE, let alone deserve anything more than he already had.

By s3, he’d sold his soul for Sam’s, and he was content with the trade… until near the end of the season when his time was running out and he was forced to confront his fate… (I don’t deserve it! FINALLY! at the end of 3.10 confronting the dream-demon-dean)

Resurrected in 4.01, Cas points out that Dean doesn’t believe he deserved to be saved… and he’s forced to confront this fate apparently laid on him by God– who he didn’t even believe existed, and certainly didn’t care about. Heaven was conspiring against Dean to make him into their pawn, all the while he fought against that fate. At that point in the story, back during the Apocalypse, he didn’t really get much time to stop and think about what “place” he’d choose for himself, he just knew he wasn’t gonna let destiny choose for him. Back then, he was fighting for the right to choose at all.

Apocalypse dusted, he trudged off to look for a white picket fence and a little peace and quiet. As far as he knew, the world wasn’t trying to end anymore, and without any sort of direction for himself, for the first time in his life he was sort of free to explore something different for himself. For reasons I’ve talked about plenty of times before, it didn’t work out for him. He tried to find a balance there, but it was too much, and suddenly he was adrift again.

He’d lost his faith again. Cas was gone, Sam was broken, and the world was definitely falling apart again. S7 stripped away everything that Dean had ever known. Forget about having choices, by the end of the season he was even running out of last-ditch refuges. Then he and Cas ended up in the last-ditch refuge to beat all other last-ditch refuges: Purgatory.

Coming back from Purgatory seemed to give Dean a new lease on life. ESPECIALLY after Cas came back… at least for a little while. Even after Cas came back to him, he still ditched him again…

(yes it was because he was being controlled by Naomi, no neither dean nor cas knew that at the time, yes it left everyone feeling terrible)

Then they discovered the Bunker. Things really began to change for him. He had a place that he felt was actually THEIRS. A solid, steady home base that grounded him in the world like nothing had since he’d been 4 years old and had a family home. It was his heritage, a part of his personal history that had been stolen from him long before he was even born. And that was HUGE for Dean.

The thing he was best at, the thing he took most pride in– his abilities as a hunter– was validated by this creepy old vault in a hillside.

Suddenly he had a home, a sense of legitimacy, a sense that he wasn’t some outcast on the fringes of society. Granted, living in a secret underground bunker still technically puts one on the fringes of society, but more in a Batman sort of way instead of in a Spiders Georg sort of way…

Right from the start, Dean had this sense of BELONGING there. He felt at home. He LIKES living there. He has privacy and comfort and his own room and a cozy robe and slippers, not to mention all the tools and resources he could ever hope to have to do the job he’s always loved (well, for the most part he’s loved it…).

But there’s always been that responsibility his father instilled in him from the moment he told him to carry Sam outside as fast as he can. His one real job, even above the hunting, has been to watch out for Sam. He still feels responsible for Sam, even though they’re both in their 30′s (and Dean’s pushing 40 now…). Is that REALLY his primary responsibility in life? I mean, of course he loves his brother, but should he forever put Sam’s needs and wishes BEFORE his own? Or, conversely, override Sam’s own wishes in service to that old “watch out for Sammy, you have to save him” mantra that John burdened him with in 2.01? That’s something he’s beginning to learn, beginning back in s11, and continuing into s12.

I think Dean realizes that hunting is where he belongs. Going back to 11.04, Sam asking him if he ever thought about settling down with someone in the life. Like, finding a romantic partner to share the life with. I.e., hunting with someone other than Sam. Implying that SAM had thought about this, too, for himself.

Conveniently, Sam meets a really lovely female hunter who he has a lot of instant chemistry with just seven episodes later (hello, Eileen!). But at the time in 11.04, Dean denies having considered it a real possibility for him. Despite having said something along those exact same lines in 10.16.

How much have I written about 11.11 and Dean’s heart-to-heart with Mildred about sunsets, and pining for someone, and… right. Okay. (there’s nearly 200 posts in that episode tag fyi. I’m not even gonna CONSIDER diving in there to pull references, or I’ll be there all night :P).

In 11.17 he gets the lesson hammered home that he can’t just throw away his own life in exchange for Sam’s. For the first time in his life, he’s confronted with the absolute fact that Sam’s life is not cosmically more important than his own. He doesn’t want Sam to suffer or die or to have to carry undue burdens on his soul (like the Mark of Cain… >.>), but that’s a reasonable thing to feel. It’s NOT reasonable to try to spend the rest of his life standing as that human shield between Sam and the rest of the world either, though, and he’s finally starting to understand that.

Then in 11.19 Dean makes a real breakthrough and FINALLY admits out loud and in front of Sam that he’s curious about what it’s like settling down with another hunter. He asks this of two men who are married to each other. Again, in front of Sam.

The s11 finale was ALL ABOUT CHUCK AND AMARA FINDING THEIR PLACE in a strange way. Not Chuck hiding out on Earth pretending to be something he’s not (a Dean mirror…), not Amara locked away somewhere like a prisoner, nor destroying all of creation in retaliation. It was all about balance, brought about by Dean Winchester.

So, that leaves us in Dean’s current situation. Mary’s suddenly alive again after all these years, Sam’s been hurt and taken by ??? and Cas was true to his word and stuck around.

Not only that, but Cas seems just as fierce and determined as Dean to get Sam back. Aah, brotherly feelings! Because THAT’S how Cas has learned (from Dean) that you take care of your brother. And really, I think that’s how Cas does see Sam. As a brother. It’s been a long time since he’s referred to Sam as the Boy with the Demon Blood, or “an abomination.” And Cas’s journey since borrowing Jimmy’s body and popping into that barn to say hi to Dean has also been about his friendship (and kinship) with Sam.

(I mean, just look at 9.11, THEY BOND OVER HOW SIMILAR THEY ARE! THEY TALK ABOUT HOW BOTH ANGELS AND WINCHESTERS CAN GROW AND CHANGE!)

I know this has largely been about Dean to this point, but when I started writing, I had no idea how much I really had to say on the subject. I was going to do a similar “this is your life” sort of segment for Sam, but It’s almost impossible to talk about Dean without pulling in relevant tidbits about Sam. So I’m gonna spend a (hopefully!) shorter amount of time talking about Sam here, specifically.

When Sam first met Cas, he was in awe of angels. Unlike Dean, he’d always had faith in a higher power. (He’d also always had Dean as a human shield against some of the worst of their young lives, which probably contributed to his ability to maintain that faith in what otherwise could’ve been a completely faith-destroying life… I mean, see Dean himself for the obvious compare/contrast here).

Sam had always felt “other.” The freak. Not even really all human. Living on the fringes of society yet wanting desperately to fit in and just be normal. He hated his life, hated hunting, hated not being normal. And then his powers kicked online and amped that feeling up to 11.

Poor Sam has spent so much of the series being the object of the supernatural that the only times he ever even tried to run away from the life he just got pulled right back in. He tried to run once during the Apocalypse, but that didn’t even last more than a few days before he was forced back in (in 5.03/5.04). The closest he got to escaping into normalcy was during early s8 while Dean was in Purgatory.

Nothing says family like the whole family being dead.

He drifted around the country aimlessly until he hit a dog.

He seemed to settle in for a brief time, but then suddenly Dean was back, reminding him that he had a duty to protect Kevin, and he’d failed. He’d never told Amelia ANYTHING about his life before he’d met her. Well, nothing REAL, anyway. Not the truth. Nothing about hunting or monsters or anything. So when his history finally caught up with him, his choice was an either/or. He couldn’t have both (not even like Dean had tried to do with Lisa, since she did know the truth about him. Sam wouldn’t burden Amelia with it, despite having demanded as his dying wish that Dean burden Lisa with it all…)

So Sam was adrift again, even though he had Dean by his side. Even though he had the bunker as a home base. It WASN’T a proper home by his standards. It wasn’t enough.

Enter the trials, enter Gadreel, enter the fight against the Mark, enter the Darkness… and finally Enter God.

(also enter Dean spending a month or so pining away and driving himself bonkers trying to save Cas from Lucifer)

And then… God couldn’t just snap his fingers and make this better. In fact, God was kind of a jerk. Or, at least, God was really freaking limited in his own ability to change. That’s one of the drawbacks of being absolute.

Free will is not included in the kit.

But Sam? Sam’s got it. And he chooses to exercise it LIKE A BOSS. SAM FUCKING WINCHESTER. CAN I GET AN AMEN!

Sam’s chosen all through s12 to stand up and defend what he believes in. Even in 12.01/12.02 when he felt like he had really nothing left to lose (with Dean gone, Cas banished, the Darkness vanquished), he still didn’t give in to his captors. He kept fighting for himself.

Because he does see the bunker as his home now. He’s also got this weird second chance to get to know his mother in a blank slate sort of way. He’s accepted her terms for how their relationship will proceed, because getting to know her AT ALL had never even been a possibility for him.

And we know he’s spent some time thinking about his future (his little retirement brochure and his box of memories). He’s spent time wondering what it might be like settling down with a hunter. He’s begun archiving the MoL records to make them accessible. He’s got a way to keep one foot in hunting and still have a relatively settled life. And he finally got Lucifer locked back up in the cage. He’s got hope for the future.

(well, he did until they got arrested by the secret service and tossed into some sort of black site)

Now on to Cas.

Castiel, Angel of the Lord. Arguably the most fascinating character progression in the history of television. He began as a completely alien being who was just rebellious enough and empathetic enough and curious enough to be swayed by humanity. Yes, he had a history of defying orders going back millennia, but he’s also been labeled as having “too much heart.” What a wonderful problem for an angel to have.

From wrathful soldier of heaven to homeless human struggling to survive, he’s experienced so much. And he’s been open to every last experience. He’s let humanity touch him and change him, all the while fighting to do the right thing for Heaven and Earth. He’s made some catastrophic mistakes along the way, and the weight of that guilt has affected him even more.

I saw a post earlier today about the line from the See Evil promo, where Dean says Cas is his best friend. Below that is an image of the “Friends to Lovers” tag from AO3. Because yeah, I mean, isn’t that the next logical step here? Their entire story has been a Strangers to Associates to Enemies to Associates to Friends to Associates to Enemies to Associates to Friends to whateverthefuck they were in Purgatory to Friends to Close Really Close Friends to Awkwardly Asking Out And Getting Rejected But Staying Heartbroken Friends to Bitter Exes to Friends to Brothers to “everyone you love will be long dead except for me” to ~Brothers~ to Old Married People Having A Spat Over How Much Cas Travels For Work With Dean’s Ex.

It’s ridiculous.

*glances up at this ridiculous post trying to determine if I’ve addressed your question even a little bit and realizes this is gonna have to go under a cut. WTF, self?*

Cas’s ENTIRE HISTORY ON THE SERIES, ALL OF IT, HAS BEEN A JOURNEY OF “FINDING HIS PLACE.”

I just watched 4.20 yesterday. That’s where I am in my current rewatch. He’s been struggling with what’s right, with what he should do, with where he should entrust his loyalty. Heaven’s orders don’t feel right. There’s something fishy going on up there, and his loyalty was wavering. After getting pulled back to Boot Camp for reprogramming, he tells Dean that he serves Heaven, not humanity, and CERTAINLY not Dean…

Well, it only takes him two more episodes to turn that around and tear up the script. For Dean.

THIS HAS ALWAYS BEEN CAS’S JOURNEY.

As much as Sam has been manipulated by the universe, Cas has too. (remember what I said about Sam and Cas in 9.11? Yeah, that.)

Well as much as Sam and Cas have in common, the relationship between Cas and Dean has NEVER looked like that. There’s always been a distinct difference between how Cas and Sam relate to one another, and how Cas and Dean relate to one another.

But Dean being Dean, who doesn’t feel like he deserved to be saved, doesn’t have any clue what to do with an Angel of the Lord who put his faith in Dean. And Cas doesn’t have any clue what to do with this man who has called him brother and best friend, both of which taste a little bit like a lie, or at least not entirely like the truth.

(see previous comment about Old Married Couple, yet with neither of them realizing it)

I realized a few minutes ago that I’ve already written something about Cas’s entire journey (as it stood over the summer hiatus after s11), and how he’s always been headed toward this huge choice: Do you want to live as an angel, or as a man? I’d go digging for it, but *scrolls up through this entirely too long already post* I think I’ve spent enough time on this.

Cas has struggled with these HUGE questions. He’s tried to do what was right. He’s tried to reconcile his duty to heaven with the original mission God set for the angels to protect humanity. He’s met God himself and seen the entire story of creation resolve itself. And now? Now where does he belong? His story’s been paralleled to Mary’s this season. Mary who feels out of place and time and disconnected from the world, yet is tied to it by blood and family and humanity. Cas feels out of place because of WHAT he is, because he’s not human or blood (even if he is family… or whatever he reads into Dean’s assertions that he has a place with them, in their home, with the Winchesters).

It’s all about family, what makes family, and finding out how they all fit into each others’ lives. If given the choice, what would each of them decide to do?

TL/DR? Basically my point is this is nothing new. This has always been the story, no matter what the “bigger problems” they’ve faced over the years have been. It’s just become a much more tangible and dynamic part of the story in the last season or so. Meaning it’s become more important, if anything. For Dean, for Sam, and for Cas.

Take any of those three out of the story, and the whole structure collapses. They’re all equally important here. I don’t think anyone who says different has a leg to stand on. I don’t know what the fuck show they’re watching, but it’s definitely not Supernatural.

Not sure if I even really addressed the original message here, but I’ve been typing this for a couple of hours now, so I guess I’ve officially typed myself out. :P

#m-sherezade #winchester family dynamics #oh dean #sam fucking winchester #castiel winchester #mary f. winchester #too many episodes to tag them all #spn s12 speculation #this is an andrew dabb appreciation blog (except when it comes to car stuff)#here have my belated thoughts on the whole love... and love #the scheherazade of supernatural #dabb vs cars

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3ennyj · 8 years ago

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Randonneuring on a brakeless track bike.

I never knew what a randonneur is or does till about five months back. Heck I couldn’t even pronounce the damn name. A randonneur is a chap who rides long distances unsupported within a specified time frame, with distances starting at 200km unto 1200km. A seasoned randonneur would classify a 600km brevet as “difficult”, which usually entails two nights and a day of continuous riding, the idea being to complete the course within the 40 hours time frame. Me being the chap I usually am decided do a 600km brevet, my “first” brevet, on my everyday steed, a brakeless track bike in gods own country, Kerala, aptly called the Exotic Malabar Coast 600 BRM which runs from Cochin to Payyannur along the beautiful malabar coast of Kerala, known for a lot of amazing things, of which the one that really stood was the Biryani! To me Calicut was this place I’d always heard growing up, Thallaserry was a name of a restaurant in Bangalore, Mahe was Union Territory in Kerala that I read in my geography books and Payyannur was this quaint town up in the north of Kerala which I had only heard of since my friend was from there and that they we were famous for this crazy ritualistic dance called Theyyamm and that they love repeating letters in words there. In summary this is one gorgeous route to ride not to mention I rode an entire night in the rain, torrential thunderstorm type of rains. It’s monsoon season in this part of the land. That being said, this was going to be my only other long distance ride since my ride to Goa this New Years on the same track bike, difference being, the ride to Goa was a 600 kilometre trip spanning three days covering a little more than 200 kilometres each day with ample rest (in lodges) and an awesome ride partner and friend. While this time around, I was doing a solo, 600 kilometre trip (brevet) which was timed event with a time limit of 40 hours on an unknown route (though I am originally from Kerala).Unlike my Goa ride, I was using an easier gear ratio of 48x19, which meant that I’d have to spin more (more pedal rotations) as compared to the 48x18 to maintain a comparable average speed, based on my experience riding to Goa, I was hoping to benefit from this, I’d soon find out.

I never knew endurance riding is something I was going to get into, I mean I love riding bikes and I guess that’s the only pre requisite you need. You can basically do anything on a bike, be it commuting, racing, touring, tricks or just aimlessly riding. Riding a brevet is something else altogether, it needs a bit of preparation since you’re self supported and self sufficient, which means any sort of mechanical or biological failure, and well that’s the end of it! I had about three days to prepare for this as this was a last minute decision I made as with all my decisions. I borrowed lights, mud fenders, frame bag, saddle bag, and a drop bar from friends in Bangalore before I drove down to Kerala with my folks and my dog. Since my last training ride I did was way back in May, I decided to ride from my grandparents house in southern Kerala to Cochin which was a good 110kms, complete with hills, potholes, violent headwinds, cross winds, crazy traffic, mixed with city and highways and awesome flat sections. Training done! During the registration process the organisers and other folks there were quiet baffled when they learned this was my first brevet, more over the bike I was using had just one gear, a fixed gear and that it was brakeless, my beard length was probably secondary now. I checked into a motel nearby and had a sound nights sleep.

The first leg

Started with a final few checks to my bike with the mechanic at the LBS in cochin called The Bike Store which was also the start point for the Brevet. 4PM was departure time. Since the city routes were unknown to me, my new friends asked me to stick with the guys upfront, who planned to ride out fast and hard to beat the traffic, as checkpoint 1 and 2 were within the city itself. Ride hard and ride fast we did. I stuck to the wheel of the fastest kid on the block, this young lad who I feel has a very promising career in the Indian road cycling scene. We covered around 30 kilometres in an hour and 10 minutes in the thick of Cochin’s crazy traffic. The next checkpoint was a 100kms away at Ponnani, and so had begun the solo leg of my brevet. I rode close to 85% of my ride solo, the thing is you get to ride at your own pace which I feel is a very important requirement especially when you’re participating in an endurance sport which pushes you to your limits. My ride to Ponnani was a first of many sorts, it was the first time was riding in the night for such a long distance, fully loaded and it was also the first time I did an all nighter while it rained cats, dogs and fishes! It was definitely a night of firsts. I managed to reach Ponnani within four hours of leaving my last checkpoint, which was quiet frankly a decent pace as one of the volunteers admitted. I was amazed myself. I treated myself to a sumptuous dinner of boiled rice, dal and mixed veggies at a local restaurant near the check point. Since I was still high on energy I made this a quick dinner break, complete with an Instagram update and an excellent Kattan Kappi or black coffee.

Next stop was Calicut which was a mere 70 kilometres away. I planned to reach Calicut by midnight, but that wasn’t going to happen. Little did I know the road to Calicut was 70 kilometres of potholes, narrow streets and off the grid sort of navigation through little unknown towns and villages. To top it all the rains picked up pace and I was literally caught in the middle of a thunderstorm. So here’s the thing, I love the rains, I love riding in the rain, and I hate the day after which means, cleaning my bike. So riding in the rains wasn’t much of a problem. Riding a fixie in the rains is way more comfortable and I swear way more controllable compared to a free wheeling bike as you can feel the road and thus gauge the traction off the wheels. There were sections that were pitch black with no working street lights, and since these were borrowed lights I had them in a single mode which gave me lighting of sorts such that I didn’t misjudge the sides of the roads and jeer off into the slush that was accumulating with the continuous downpour. The last 20 kilometres to Calicut we were back on the paved NH17, which fortunately/unfortunately had poor lighting, smooth roads and lots of truckers. For a brakeless city rider this wasn’t intimidating but it sure was high. A good fucking high! I would do mental computations in my head calculating distances and average speeds to my final destination by reading the milestones and check the time on my G-Shock as I did not use a Garmin for this ride. I wanted to keep the ride as equipment free as possible. Little did I realise this actually worked, and helped me with my concentration. A biker pulled up next to me and started talking to me, the rains had subsided now and was only a minute drizzle, the types you feel when you spray a perfume or something. I picked up my pace hoping that he’d understand that I want to be left alone, but he stuck to my side and started asking me questions. He turned out to be a good chap, and we spoke for the next 10 kilometres up until I reached Calicut limits. The outcome was fantastic as I had upped my pace, averaging a good 30-35km/h, and the biker was astonished for the fact that I was managing to pull off a speed like that, he was even more amazed that I was doing this on a bike with just one gear for 600 kilometres. He asked me the value and I told him it was worth 15,000 bucks, all I had to do was divide the original value by 25! Nonetheless, with the rains back I was now entering Calicut city, I asked an auto wallah for directions and here I was at checkpoint four, beach side, four hours later and drenched to my mittens! I love the beach. It gives me immense energy, just what I needed. The volunteers did a fantastic job of organising home cooked meals they had veggie options thankfully which I devoured, they they also gave a lot of inputs regarding the route, road conditions up until the turnaround point which was now just 120 odd kilometres away. This was the fastest time i had taken to complete 190 kilometres, just under 10 hours, which was record of sorts for me. I ate, rested and chatted with a couple of other riders who had reached before me which gave me a total of 35 minutes off the bike. I did notice some of the riders were facing mechanical failures, snapped chains, slippery brakes, muck and sediment deposits on their derailleurs and of-course punctures. I had no so such issues, thankfully! Now energised I was on my way to checkpoint number five which was around 70 kilometres away at this place called Thallasery, known for its unique biryani, this route would take me via Vadakara and Mahe, as these were the waypoints I locked on to maintain my timing. It was around 0200 when I left Calicut and my objective was to reach Thallasery by 0400-0430 in the morning and reach the turnaround point by 0630-0700, thus giving me three hours of sleep by which I could hit the road by 1030. Such a wonderful plan I was thinking, except that it was still raining cats and dogs, it was pitch black with street lighting off and on, with truckers providing me three seconds of that glorious runway lights and that I was getting exhausted with every passing kilometre. I kept myself occupied with these mental math calculations to keep me focussed and awake. Believe me I suck at math, like I’m slow at calculating, and for the first time in my life, being slow to calculate actually helped! I was now going to pass Vadakara, and I remembered what the guys at Calicut told me, avoid the bypass and cut through the city. Cut through the city I did, it was like passing a ghost town, there wasn’t one soul on the street, no life absolutely. The road was like a roller coaster too, massive uphill climbs followed by rolling decents, this was just the start as the terrain was now changing from a moderately flat coastal route to hilly coastal route up until Payyannur. What I did notice entering Mahe was that being a Union Territory, the road which is also the NH17, it was littered with alcohol shops, I mean that one street would put Bangalore to shame! I breezed by Mahe just like every other town I was passing by, the rains had subsided by now, it was funny, as though the gods were joking around with us. I was now nearing my next check point of Thalleserry, and I was well past my initially calculated time of arriving there by 0400-0430. I finally did reach Thallasery by 0515. On arriving the volunteers were fast asleep inside their car which was this gorgeous sea facing hill. I woke them up, stocked up on chocolates, water and was back on the road within 20 minutes. I was now less than 60 kilometres away from the turnaround point at Payyannur. Back to mental maths again, usually on a ride to the outskirts, I’d average around 30km/h which means two hours to the turn around point, so I gave myself time until 0800 to reach which would still give me two hours of sleep as I wanted to get back on the road by 1030. I was satisfied with the way things were panning out. My next point of interest was Kannur or Cannanore, I think that’s the place St Francis landed in India and brought Christianity to the sub continent, I was passing by some historical places on this route, but all I cared was to reach Payyannur and take a nice warm shower and sleep! By now my left knee started to pain. I had this pain while riding to Goa as well. Little did I know that this pain on my knee was going to hit a new threshold. I guess the pain was bound to happen, I mean I’ve ridden 260kms with no chance of coasting, basically I earned every kilometre by rotating my crank 46,000 times until now. By the time I reached Kannur, the sun had risen and I was now seeing people on the road, it’s so refreshing when you see life on the streets. I was watching the TV show last man on earth and I kind of know what he meant by seeing life on the streets. I had to do something about my knee pain, with the pharmacies all closed I was on the look out for a hospital en route. I finally found a hospital on my way out of Kannur and hurried to the pharmacy to get myself one of those pain reliving sprays. I didn’t know that if you spray this on a sweaty body it burns like it would burn Count Dracula! After a few minutes of jumping around I was back on the bike and, now just wanting to reach the turn around point at Payyannur. The organisers and the volunteers had told us riders about a detour via the inner roads that would bring us right back on NH17 onto the turnaround point which was a hotel on the highway, which could help us by shaving of 3kms and save us the cruelty of the hilly sections up ahead, on the contrary I missed out the left turn which was long gone as I had now stumbled across another rider who told me the left turn was up ahead instead. I took my phone out and swung right into Google Maps exploring the options I had, there was a left turn ahead, but and it was through the insides which I wasn’t sure of, I took it nonetheless as I was saving a good 3kms to reach my destination. The next 45 minutes was one of the most toughest times of my life, with an aching knee, a busted ass, exhausted and 300kms into my ride, I was navigating through some crazy hills and potholed ridden roads. I was now looking for a store that had some vaseline, as my ass was now sore. I remember seeing a board that said six kilometres to Payyannur, my mental maths was now telling me that’s the distance to MG road from home, 20 minutes more and you’re there, finally I see the board I’ve been looking for, Green Park Hotel, 500 metres away! Man the happiness I felt! Once I was 50 metres I could see the volunteers waiting with smiling faces directing me to get into the hotel. I finally reached at 0805. One of the guys helped me find my way into the convention hall which the organisers turned into a makeshift sleeping space for the riders, complete with a mattress, cooling fans, pillows and a nice warm blanket. I found my way to the showers, cleaned up, got into a set of new clothes and jumped right into bed. I set my alarm to 1030, with a planned departure by 1045. And boy did I pass out! Never have I slept so well!

The return

1030 the alarm goes off, I did a few calculations again and decided to sleep for another 1 hour, yeah right! I finally crawled out of bed only by 1200 after much hesitation. The three and a half hours of sleep was much needed. I later sync’d up with another rider who is a legend of sorts in the randonneuring business, and we left the hotel together in search of a lunch spot to carb up for the return journey to cochin, another 313 kilometres. I had 19 hours and 30 minutes until cutoff. Easy, I thought. We found a restaurant near by and belted a veggie thali that costed a mere 70 bucks! As we got back on the road we bid adieu as I really needed vaseline for the arse. Lubed up I now continued on the regular NH17 route, not the one I’d taken earlier in the morning, which had the most horrendous roads and an utter waste of time. This section did have some serious climbs, but hey nothing like a “bit” of climbing to start the day with. I find myself pushing much harder on climbs than on flats for obvious reasons, you’re on a fixed gear bike, with no option to gear down, so the only option is to push your ass off the seat and climb that hill. I love that feeling, and once on top, the best part is descending. Since I was on a 48x19, I was spinning out on a few sections, and that’s when we fixie fuck boys do something called “hill bombing”, get your feet of the pedals and just let the bike fly down. Deceleration is controlled by smashing your shoes above the tyre and burning rubber and synthetic. The feeling is surreal! I did get a boat load of stares by passerby’s, a few of them were quiet amused at the sight of a bearded guy going mental on a bike that they were recording this sight. I wonder if there’s any way of sourcing those videos. 20 kilometres of rolling hills and descents did an amazing job of setting the tempo for the rest of the ride, my legs were now in jello mode. However the searing pain which had started to develop on my knees was still there, in-fact my right knee started to develop this pain as well now. I was in for a beating as I still had close to 280 kilometres until Cochin. I had noticed a kid on a MTB up ahead, but he didn’t look like he was a part of the brevet, as I couldn't see his bib number, nonetheless this kid decided to draft behind me, which got me thinking why would he do that. I mean I was on this fixed gear bike battling it out on the climbs and here’s this kid riding off my wheel, which in a way helped me, as I started pushing really hard. The poor chap must have clung of for a few minutes before he dropped back. I didn’t stop pushing though, I passed by four other riders before entering Kannur, I was making a good progress. My next checkpoint was back in Calicut which was now 90 kilometres away. I planned to pit stop at Thallasery which was around 25 kilometres away to grab some of their famous biryani and get some rest. While leaving Kannur I found a tender coconut seller, it’s funny that I didn’t see anybody else selling tender till now. The guy was kind enough to give me route advice and told me to take an alternative route bypassing the highway which went through two small towns instead which would give a 3km advantage basically. Apparently couple of other cyclist had passed by him earlier this morning and he’d given them the same advice. Being a Sunday, these small towns were empty, hardly any one in sight, which was good, as there was virtually no traffic. In an event like this, every kilometre shaved off adds so much additional time over the long run. I had plans of reaching Thallasery by 1500, the time was around 1400 already. I had to step up pace. It was only now that I was able to yonder at the beauty of the Malabar! Rolling hills along the coast of the Arabian sea dotted with coconut tress on both sides, the sounds of the ocean which was drowned out last night because of the incessant rains, I was now witnessing the beauty. In an endurance event like this, I feel one of the key requisites is that you appreciate the beauty of your surrounding around you, it adds a whole new dimension to your ride. Every time I peeked into the horizon, I would temporarily feel free, thoughts of the remaining 250 kilometres would disappear and the searing pain on my knees would suddenly feel painless. These were the moments that kept me going. I finally arrived at Thallasery at quarter past three.

I found a sea facing restaurant adjacent to the checkpoint I’d stopped last night, and ordered a veggie thallasery special. Took a few snaps of the bike facing the sea and I was back on the road within 20 minutes. It’s funny how fast a hungry, and tired human can gulp down a massive plate of biryani, even the waiters were looking at me in astonishment. I was now 70 kilometres away from Calicut. I planned to reach the checkpoint by 1800 effectively, but that for obvious reasons was not going to happen. By the time I reached Vadakara, my knees were literally felt they were going to pop open, I had to stop and get a painkiller, else this wasn’t going to work. The same quiet ghost town from last night was now bustling full of people. I found a pharmacy right next to the local government hospital and explained my situation to the pharmacist. He gave me four tabs and told me not to pop four within a days time, and that I should space the consumption of each tablet by a minimum of six hours. He also wished me luck and was thoroughly impressed with what I was doing. Within minutes of popping the first tab, I could feel a sense of relief. Once on the highway I noticed that traffic movement had slowed down. I mean the last thing you’d expect is a traffic jam on a single lane highway! Traffic jam it was. By the time I got myself out to the front, I had already lost 30 minutes of precious time, I couldn’t figure what caused the traffic jam, as there was no accident, I’m guessing however there must have been a VIP/minister going past one of those small towns out there. I was also quiet surprised that my bike was into shape, despite the muck on the chain from last nights downpour and the lack of lubrication, she was still moving, not as smooth though. No flats till now. I had well crossed 1800 and still no sign of Calicut, I pulled over next to a traffic cop and asked him how far was Calicut, his explanation was quiet simple, cross three bridges and take the right to head no to Calicut Beach Road. It’s always a love hate feeling when approaching a checkpoint, you’re happy for the fact that you’re so near, and you’re mad that despite being so near, you’re still not there yet, that sense of frustration keeps working against you and I swear that battle is worse than the physical battle. I usually get on to my drops and go full gas at moments like this, and that’s exactly what I did. I remember flying past these two riders who I’d later meet at the Calicut checkpoint and would end up riding with them until Ponnani. I finally did reach Calicut at 1900, one hour behind schedule. I had 13 hours and 173 kilometres to my destination and final checkpoint.

Sufferfest

The Urban Dictionary describes sufferfest as, “A workout or race in the arena of endurance sports that involves prolonged suffering on the part of all who participate”. I believe my sufferfest was only about to start now. In the next 20 kilometres to be precise. The two riders who I’d passed by and later met at the Calicut checkpoint were now riding partners, since they were local Calicut lads I decided to stick with them to guide me out of the city which is a disaster to ride in on a Sunday. We made a quick pitstop to carb up yet again at a local restaurant. By the time we left Calicut it was 2030, they were good company talking and telling me all about the routes and their experience so far on this brevet. They were mighty impressed with the fact that I was on a fixed gear bike, that too brakeless and were in disbelief when I told them this was my first brevet. The ride out from Calicut is quiet confusing, in-fact the previous night when I found myself self directing myself into Calicut, it all seemed so different now. It felt like a weird LSD trip in all honesty. I had no recollection of the number of turns, I had taken through the narrow winding roads that led to me to Calicut, all I remember was the road to Ponnani was atrocious and rigged with pot holes. I was ready for the challenge. Once we got onto the highway we bid adieu and I increased my pace as I was doing a moderate pace to keep with the guys guiding me out. Ponnani was now about 50 kilometres away. The thing about bad roads is when you’re riding a track bike which is built with the most stiffest aluminium composites and when you run 23c slick tyres, its asking for trouble. No trouble for the bike, but trouble for your bike. My back, my arse, my legs, my knees and my palms were at the receiving end of this torture. To top it all the rains were back and my front lights packed up too. My average speed dropped from a smooth 26km/h to less than 15km/h based on my awesome calculations I was doing. This felt like the longest 50 kilometres I had ever done my entire life, in-fact I didn’t really care if I reached Ponnani at all. All I wanted was good smooth roads. I cursed the Government of Kerala for the duration of my ride to Ponnani. I couldn’t understand how corrupt and useless they could be. I later learnt that the organisers had recce’d the route just two weeks prior and the roads were in perfect conditions. Within two weeks of the monsoons the roads were back to square one. Some sections were so bad that I was literally playing the game two dots. Finding the perfect link across a golf ball dimpled road. Believe me I’m not exaggerating on the road conditions. A lot of abuses were hurled. I finally reached Ponnani around 0100. It took me more than four hours to cover a distance less than 50 kilometres. I decided to stop over at the same restaurant I stopped over the previous night for food and a kattan kappi. To my surprise the two gents who escorted me out of Calicut also stopped by the same place. We were now 99 kilometres to completion. I entered the restaurant completely exhausted and left the place jumping with energy. My knees were clobbered by now. I popped my second painkiller. I offered a tab to one of the guys who passed the offer, while I later learnt he regretted doing so. The suffering and pain was getting real to be honest. The last 99 kilometres felt much like the opening stage of a trip on magic mushrooms. Everything felt different. I remember meeting the four riders who were ahead of me for the entire duration of the race, we teamed up and formed a pace-line. We must have been doing 33km/h for a good 20 kilometres, when I peeked back I realised I dropped the guys and was doing my own pace. It’s odd that in your last few kilometres, how the mind overcomes physical pain. The phrase “Shut up legs” makes absolute sense. In-fact it was more like shut up knees, shut up back and shut up arse! I finally reached the end of my ride at 0550 at The Bike Store, Cochin. I completed my first ever 600 brevet in 37 hours and 50 minutes on a brakeless track bike.

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