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smokahuntis · 2 years ago

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All My Love

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x reader

Warning: Smut! Desperation, needy hoes. Light choking, riding. Wacky missionary 😉 hint of vader.. this is the longest thing ive ever posted

word count: 3.3k

summary: Anakin has been sneaking around with you for a while. However, you've been on a mission for years. Both of you barely having the time to speak. The distance between you has created a huge rift. Neither of you see each other as your partner. As you return, it brings back all those memories from before.

Song for this fix! Because I almost forgot!

All my love - Noah Kahan

How have things been? Well now that you mention it...

Six long years of war. Three of those years were spent away from Anakin. Separated from each other, you’ve barely spoken a word to each other. Over that time, you barely knew if the other was alive. No one told you and you couldn't ask. If you asked, they'd know about your relationship and if they knew, you would be forced to call it quits. You weren't ready for that. You were still clinging to that one percent that he was still waiting for you and that he was still yours.

Anakin was praying for the day you came home. He watched you through the force and dreamt of you each night. He clung to that one percent that you would come back, and nothing would have changed. He needed you, and you needed him just as desperately. Both of you were worried that the reason you were separated was because Obi-Wan knew about the circumstances of your relationship. Of course, he knew that you were more than just partners. But how much did he know?

My folks still talk; they speak in these two-word sentences.

The trip back to Coruscant was grueling and took forever. Even as difficult as the journey was, you were glad to finally make your return. You were going to see him. Neither of you were the same person as you were all those years ago. But the sheer anticipation of seeing each other again is what kept you going.

"I'm surprised you aren't already at the landing bay," Ashoka said leaning against Anakin's door.

He turned and looked at her with furrowed brows and confusion.

"Why would I be in the landing bay?" he asked looking down at her.

I'm saying too much, but you know how it gets out here.

"Your little friend is coming back; she should be landing any minute," she stated and watched as his face changed. He needed to hear her name, to know his thoughts were true.

"General [y/l/n]," Ahsoka said softly.

He was basically running to the landing bay, his heart racing, a nervous sweat making his palms clammy. He'd been waiting too long for this; he'd waited for what felt like forever for this moment. He needed their connection to be as strong as what he felt through the force.

No winter coat to keep out the cold of your atmosphere.

Soon, her ship came into the bay. Landing gently on the ground with a hiss of air. [Y/N] got up excitedly, she waited forever for this moment. However, she was still a Jedi and still had a duty to uphold the Code and had to maintain herself. Calmly, she stepped off the ship with her droids and clones, who were her best friends over these years. She held her chin high and maintained her focus; her eyes secretly scanning the crowd for that dumb blonde.

We once sang retrograde, we shake the frame of your car

Anakin pushed to the front of the greeting party, needing to see her as soon as he could. He had to see her. They made eye contact at the same time. It didn’t hit them till then how much it would hurt to finally see each other. It was a crushing feeling in her chest.

Every moment they were in each other's arms, it hit them both at once. And now, every second it's taking them to reach one another felt like a century added on to the years they’ve already endured. She couldn’t hold back any longer, she needed him. She needed to feel him in her hands, his skin, his hair. She needed it all.

Now I know your name but not who you are

Anakin couldn’t do it, the moment felt like it was passing in slow motion. He felt frozen in time. He felt stuck. Ashoka shoved him forward towards [Y/N] and shook her head to get him out of that haze. That was all the permission he needed. Within seconds he was wrapping his arms around her.

His arms felt like heaven, and everything felt okay for just that second. Like the war didn’t happen, and she wasn’t looking for him in her dreams. He was here, he was in her grasp.

It’s all okay, there ain’t a drop of bad blood

She looked up at him with a heartbreaking look in her eyes. But the biggest smile was on her face. Seeing her smile made him happy, and he knew she was okay. He knew she was still his. They were together again, and he was content.

Her hands were shaking as they moved towards his face. Gently grasping the side of it as she held onto him. She needed to know he was there. She needed to feel his skin. Not the clunkiness of the armor.

It's all my love, you got all my love

“[Y/N] …," he whispered and looked at her, his hands wondering up her back slowly. She still wore robes, not armor, and she always hated the weight of the armor. Right now, it was a blessing to feel her warmth under his hands. He needed it, and he was desperate for it.

“Don’t,” she started in a shaky tone “don't say it like that, don’t say it like you're about to cry Ani,” she whispered and ran her thumb over the scar by his eyebrow.

If you need my dear, I'm still the same as I was.

“General,” Obi-Wan cleared his throat, pulling them away from each other.

Ruining the moment. Reminding them that they have duties and pulling them back to reality.

“Yes, I must see the council, I know,” she said softly and fixed her robes.

She let out a soft sigh and gave Anakin a sad look as she stepped away with Obi-Wan. She didn’t want to leave him behind, but she knew the trouble that would follow if he did. Luckily Obi-Wan had lightened up over the years. Thankfully, he was understanding.

Write me a list of how it was, how it is, and how it has to be.

The council meeting about what had happened on the planet she was meant to be guarding felt like it took ages. She was exhausted from her long travel. And being home after all this time was the biggest relief, and she was glad that she could get a good rest. Even if it was just for one night. She could rest.

Anakin had other plans; there would be no resting. He couldn’t wait, he was desperate. He was needy, he was...starved. Deprived of his one true pleasure for so long. She may not be the same person mentally, but he knew her body like he knew his lightsaber.

You burrowed in, under my skin, what'd I’d give to have you out for me.

She quickly made her way into her old chambers. It was surprisingly clean, with no dust. Candles lit the room. Her fireplace was going. Someone had been staying in there, and she had an idea of who it was.

“Anakin,” she called softly before he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

She let out a sigh of relief as she leaned back into him. His warmth covering her body in goosebumps.

“I lived in here as long as I could... as long as your scent lingered in the sheets I was here,” he whispered in her ear.

“And when it was gone?” she hummed softly as she walked with his arms around towards her bed.

“Went through your robes, slept with them. Exchanged your belts for mine,” he admitted and left soft kisses on her neck.

Leaving the goose bumps litter her skin once more. A soft moan escaping her lips. Pleasing him in every way.

I still recall how the leather of your car feels.

She hummed and turned around in his arm and smiled softly, her hand finding its way to push his hair back. She took a good look at his face and moved her thumb over his bottom lip.

“I barely got to say goodbye to you...,” she admitted.

“I know a way you can make it up to me,” he whispered softly and leaned down, their lips ghosting each other.

But she couldn’t help it much longer.

And at the end of it all I hope that your scars heal

Her lips crashed into his, desperate and needy. Filled with love and lust as he grabbed her hips. Their mouths never breaking contact as he laid her down on the end of the bed. Their hands found themselves in an almost endless shouffle to get the clothes of each others bodies.

They weren’t even paying attention to where things landed as they stripped to see each other. The moment they were both naked, they were exploring the other’s body. Mapping out new scars and wounds. Both of them littered with new battle scars, cuts, and scratches. A new map of each other. New places to kiss.

Well, I leaned in for a kiss. Thirty feet from where your parents slept

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered as his hands danced over her stomach, his fingertips grazing over the scars placed there.

“Sculpted by gods, my love,” he whispered and left kisses on every scar he could get his eyes on.

So in love with every bit of her he couldn’t help himself.

“Anakin,” she whined and threaded her fingers through his hair.

A light tug, pulling his attention back to her face. “I need you,” she whispered.

“You’ll have me,” he grinned and stood over her.

And I looked so confident, babe, I swear, I was scared to death

He grabbed her hips and pulled them to the edge of the bed again, so they were flush against his strong thighs. A blush crept over her face as she watched him get down onto his knees for her. His hands never break contact with her skin. Always finding somewhere new to place themselves as he blew cool air onto her dripping pussy.

She was desperate for him, just as he was her. He was going to make a mess of her by making her wait for him. She was needy and moaning already from the simple breath he put on her.

“Anakin please,” she whined. It was all he needed before he went down on her.

My hands gripped the wheel

Her hands tangled in his hair tightly as his tongue darted over her. Collecting every part of her excitement. Anakin was in desperate need to taste the love of his life. He was afraid he was going to lose her again. He needs to taste it. He was dying for it. She was just as sweet as he remembered, sweet like honey. His tongue lapped her up before he started to target her swollen clit. Long strides of his muscle against it were driving her crazy.

She was a mess, and she was his mess once again. He was going to claim her, and she knew it. She blames the markings on her body on the battle she returned from. Anakin grinned in council meetings knowing it was from him. He loved their little secret, but he couldn’t stand being away from her for this long. Every stroke, every kiss, every movement was intended to remind her of who she belonged to.

I smiled stupid the whole way home

“Anakin, oh fuck,” she groaned and lifted her hips.

In return he used the force to settle her down, holding her hips down and against his face as best he could. He wasn’t going to let her escape him. Not when he was devouring her like she was his last meal. He needs this more than she did.

“Anakin please!” she called out as his tongue darted in and out of her core.

He only tapped her thigh in response, and she knew what it meant. She was free to let loose to cum on his tongue. He wasn’t moving. She moaned and let out a big groan as she pulled his hair. Her hips lifted from the bed even though his abilities weren’t going to keep her down now. He was doing his best to stay attached to her so he could work her through her erupting orgasm.

“I need you! I need you Anakin! Please," she cried and pulled his hair.

Finally, he detached his mouth from her core and came up to take her lips in a searing kiss. He held her face tightly and pushed his body against her in a desperate attempt to sooth her.

And those five words in my head

He kissed her deeply, slowly moving her up the bed so they could lay comfortably. Her little whimpers and moans were driving him wild. So quickly he moved his hand down between them, to line up his throbbing cock.

“You ready?” he asked as his forehead laid against hers.

His eyes were watching hers as she nodded. A smile grew on his face again as he slowly pushed his cock into her.

She felt like home by being this close. A bond, a feeling inside his heart. Home, it’s the only word he could use to describe the feeling of being with her. She loved every bit of it. The way he stretched her, the way his body worked with hers. Rocking his hips into her as his free hand reached down to focus on her overstimulated clit.

You said, "I'll never let you go."

He created a mess of her, ruining her slowly. Making her mind crumble as he rocked his hips into her. It felt like pure sin and she lloved it. She loved him.

She quickly grasped onto the back of his neck and held him tightly. Her other hand left scratches from her nails. Marking him up like the beast that gave her those scars he peppered kisses over.

“Anakin,” she started but he stopped her.

“I’m not going anywhere; I'll never let you go,” he grunted into her ear.

He was just as breathless as she was, in a desperate fit of passion. His mind was only filled with her.

There ain't a drop of bad blood, it's all my love

She moaned into his ear before she turned them over, using the force to get him on his back. She looked like a goddess on top of him. His hands quickly found her hips. Her hips rocked back and forth. Letting his cock completely enter her, devouring him. She was in love with the feeling, he made her feel like she was on fire.

“I love you,” he grabbed her breasts and tried to sit up to kiss her.

But she pushed him back down. Her hand over his heart before slowly slipping around his neck.

“I know,” she grinned and pushed her hair out of her face, before she leaned down to kiss him.

The grasp she had on his throat tightened a little, a small gasp escaping him. He loved it, but he wasn’t expecting it. It was pure pleasure, pure love. She’d never do this to hurt him, only to please him.

You got all my love and it's still out here

She waited three years for this moment together, and she wasn’t going to let him have all the fun. She hummed softly as she kissed his jaw, neck, and chest. Leaving dark marks in her wake as she moved.

“You love it when I'm on top don’t you?” she purred.

He nodded quickly and grasped the sheets under neath him, needing to hold onto something.

“I love it General,” he grinned at the teasing name, knowing she hated using her titles in the bedroom.

Stole the word from my tongue, it's all okay

“Ani,” she said in a warning tone, he chuckled softly as he gathered himself up again as her hand released from his neck.

Her hips slowed down, almost to a stop.

“I know, I know,” he sat up and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

“I like making you mad” he quipped before he flipped them again.

Her back hit the mattress; he lifted her legs up to his shoulders swiftly. His cock finding a new rhythm inside her, going faster and harder. Drilling her needy body into the mattress. She was becoming ruined for him all over again. He could see it on her face, scrunched up in pleasure. She couldn’t even get any words out.

“You gonna cum for me, love?” He purred and left a big bite mark on her thigh right after.

“Fuck- yes,” she moaned and grabbed his hands, slipping their fingers together next to her head.

“Please-” she started.

There ain't a drop of bad blood, it's all my love

“Cum, cum for me,” he moaned right in her ear and held her hands tightly.

It was over after that. She couldn’t hold herself back. She was spewing out curse words and his name in an anthem, like a prayer. It was white hot, and the passion rushed through her like an earthquake.

Before she was finished, he kissed her once more. He loved watching her face as she came, and loved feeling her legs tighten up on his shoulders as she spiraled. He took in every detail of her. Every bead of sweat, every wrinkle in her face, and the movements on her hips. The way she said his name, he’d never forget the way she said his name. It sent him tumbling into his own orgasm.

You got all my love

Thick white ropes coated her inside and out, slowly leaking out of her as they caught their breath. He pulled out and lay next to her slowly. The glow on her skin was like diamonds, she was beautiful, and he will never forget that. He knew that she was his and she was here to stay. Nothing was going to take her away from him again.

“I love you,” she hummed softly and smiled at him, pushing his hair back slowly as she pecked his lips.

He grinned and watched her.

“I love you too,” he kissed her back before he got up.

“Where are you going?” she asked tiredly.

“I'm going to get a rag so I can clean you up,” he replied.

You got all my love

He came back soon with a warm washcloth and cleaned her up slowly. He rubbed a good amount of healing jelly into her skin to help with any sore muscles she had.

“How do you feel?” he asked in a kind and concerned tone.

“Good” she replied with a grin.

“It's good to be home, good to be with you,” she ran her fingers through his sweaty hair.

A smile crept onto her tired face.

“I've missed you so much,” she hummed and pulled him back up to kiss him.

This kiss was different from the rest, so soft and loving. A perfect way to hold this moment between them.

“You’re never leaving me again,” he whispered and kissed her head.

She nodded and listened to him, seeing this strange look in his eyes. She couldn’t explain it, but it made her scared. The fire in his eyes softened quickly as he saw her shift.

“I need you to marry me...”

All my love

tags: @divxnee @jediminddicks1000 @retrobhaddie @askyfullof-dreams

my tag list is still open, a lot of the people i have saved have changed their tags so i can no longer tag them, i apologize! if you want to be tagged, just reblog and say so, you can also message me.

#star wars x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fluff #sw anakin #anakin smut #rebels #Star Wars smut #Darth Vader #Darth Vader smut #Noah kahan

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unicornhazel · 1 year ago

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Alright while I wait for the Tazercraft stream to start I'm going to shout into the void about my personal QSMP code theory that's not based on too much but it makes sense in my head.

First, here's what we know:

The Federation promised that the codes won't be a problem during the election period.

Every time we've seen the code since the elections were announced, it has never attacked, only observed the eggs (and players), taken photos, and dropped items related to eggs being spied on. I'd say this is very odd behaviour.

On Phil's stream from a few days ago (clip), we saw the code with Walter Bob's nametag. This is most likely a blooper (but what if it isn't?)

The code looks different, a little worse for wear. Almost as if someone might have, I dunno, tried to copy what the code looks like but didn't quite get it. Or maybe as if it were falling apart.

We have never seen more than one code at the same time, to my knowledge. We DO know that the Federation has multiple employees and we HAVE seen them together (Cucurucho, the security guards, capybaras, Walter Bob, nameless Federation workers, IV drip, etc.)

The codes attacked the candidates (and other players) yesterday, but they did not hurt ElQuackity.

I'm sure there's more, but I find this much enough to work with for the theory. I think the codes that appeared yesterday were NOT the codes we are familiar with, the ones that are known to murder eggs. What if yesterday's codes were the Federation's attempt at copying the codes and keeping their hands clean and to not draw suspicion to themselves? Every code appearance lately has been highly suspicious and uncharacteristic. What if, and this is a bit of a stretch, what if Walter Bob's nametag was NOT a mistake, and was instead a test to see if Federation members can morph into code-like creatures? If it was indeed the real code and intended to go after the candidates, why was ElQuackity, a known Federation worker, safe? It all seems a bit too suspicious to me, I don't know. I can't shake the feeling that the codes were in fact fake and planted by the Federation to throw suspicion off of them and get rid of other electoral candidates in the process.

#qsmp #qsmp federation #qsmp theory #let me know if this needs any more tags please

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whumpshaped · 3 years ago

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I enjoyed your robot whump prompt. Got any more?

ive been so sad every time i thought abt this sitting in my inbox bc i also wanted more robot whump but unfortunately im the one who actually has to write it which is pretty homophobic. but i think im finally inspired

trigger warnings: robot whump, dehumanization, emotional whump, abandonment, betrayal, feelings of inadequacy

"Stupid piece of junk," Whumper grumbled, kicking the malfunctioning thing in the side. It was a small, sturdy robot, one they'd made back when they were just a teenager dabbling in the wonders of engineering. It had served its time, really, it had been over twenty years since its creation, yet Whumper couldn't accept the fact that it wasn't running smoothly anymore. "Fucking useless, I should've gotten rid of you long ago."

Whumpee couldn't talk - oh, installing a proper voice box and a speech software had been way out of Whumper's reach at the time - all it could do was send another sad little warning about how kicking it could lead to unnecessary damage. Whumper scoffed at the notification sound, closing the message as soon as it popped up. Whumpee made it pop up again. It didn't want to be hurt, and seeing Whumper disregard its only way of communication made its rusty chest cavity tighten with what it could only assume was sadness. It wasn't supposed to feel, it knew that, but the self-learning AI picked up on more than just Whumper's orders over the years.

"Are you bugging out?" Whumper closed the warning again, and to avoid getting rebooted, Whumpee instead opened the layout of its inner systems, highlighting with bright red the areas that the previous assault affected. It wasn't bugging out, it was hurt, it wanted desperately to be fixed normally, instead of being hit and kicked over and over as if that would do anything beneficial. It just wanted Whumper to treat it kindly, like the first time it was turned on. Whumper's face from over two decades ago, their bright eyes and excited grin, it was all neatly stored on its hard disk drive. Just once more, it wanted to see Whumper look at it like that before it was left in a junk yard. "Are you kidding me? Your scheduled maintenance is over a month away, and I have other things to do! Other projects, other robots that- actually, hold on. Of course! Oh, why didn't I think of this before!"

Whumper rushed out of the room, leaving Whumpee all alone with the other, halfway-done projects. It could feel their presence all around, all the buzzing of the electronics and the slow, steady beeps from the ones currently being rebooted or running diagnostics. They didn't sound like it, they all sounded more modern, more refined. It could never measure up to them, not with its twenty year old code and equipment. But Whumper had said they had something in mind for it, and it couldn't help but be hopeful. They hadn't mentioned anything about a junk yard, not yet at least - maybe it could still be put to use somewhere. When they came back with their trusty tool kit, it even started to believe they changed their mind about the maintenance.

"They don't make parts as good as the ones I put inside you, not anymore." Whumper put down the kit and grabbed a screwdriver, forcing Whumpee's chest plate open while it was still on. "Let's see which ones are still in working order. I could probably use them in my other projects at least."

#the bad scribbles

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clonecaptains · 3 years ago

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kept promises

a fives x f!reader fic~

word count: 4k

rating: m - for mild smut

summary: fives aims to keep his promise to marry you when the war is over. but things get complicated when he’s been shot. this is my fix it fic where fives doesn’t die :) pls enjoy

a/n: fives is the loml and ive been wanting to write about him for so long~~ i hope yall like this!! comments are appreciated!!

A loud knock on your apartment door stirs you from your sleep. You weren’t resting well anyways, but the bang on the door startles you. You push the covers back and feeling disoriented you rush for the front door. You fear something is wrong because who would be banging on your door at this hour. If Fives was coming home, he wouldn’t knock. He knows the entry code, it’s his place too.

You push the button, and the door opens with a hiss. You’re greeted with the sight of Rex and Jesse standing in your doorway. It’s always nice to see them, but from the looks on their faces it’s not going to be a pleasant visit.

Your face falls and you feel ill.

Fives.

“Is he alive?” you feel tears well up in your eyes and you reach for Rex. His eyes are sad, he carries a weight on him, and you know it.

“For now,” Rex winces to tell you the truth. “He’s been shot.”

Your hand flies to your mouth and Jesse reaches out to touch a hand to your arm.

“We came to get you to take you to him,” Jesse tries to speak as gently as possible.

“You need to pack a bag,” Rex puts his hand on your shoulder. “I can’t tell you why, but you need to hurry. There’s more to this than we can say right now.”

You nod and move aside so the boys can come in.

“Rex? Can you get some things you think Fives might need?” you ask him, you’re not entirely sure of the situation and he nods disappearing back into the bedroom you share with Fives. You yourself grab a bag and begin to stuff random clothing items in it, unsure of what you’ll even need.

This is more your place than Fives, he’s working constantly and only comes once in awhile when he has rare time off. But you have nothing here that really matters to you. What matters is him.

Your bag is stuffed full, and you’re flustered bringing it into the living area. A thin lacy pair of underwear hangs from the top, and Jesse quirks a brow.

“Packing the essentials?” he teases. “Has he seen you in that?”

“No, as a matter of fact he hasn’t,” your face warms and you shove it deeper into your bag and zip it tight.

“Jesse,” Rex’s voice is stern. He might have smiled before, but not now. “We need to go.”

Rex shoulders the bag packed for Fives, and Jesse takes your bag and slings it over his shoulder casually. You follow the boys, and your door closes behind you for the last time.

“Where are we going?” you ask, keeping up with their long strides.

“Can’t tell you,” Rex nods in the direction of a small ship outside your place. You follow them on board and Jesse is quick to get the ship into the atmosphere. He punches in the coordinates and before you know it, you’re off Coruscant headed out into space.

Rex sits down in front of you, and you feel queasy. You know he’s about to tell you something difficult and you’re not ready to hear it.

“You know when Fives sets his mind to something he won’t stop,” Rex smiles softly at that, knowing his brother’s determination. You smile too but a tear falls down your cheek. “He got into something he shouldn’t have, and he was shot for it. We took him off Coruscant for his own protection, and our own. If anyone were to find out about this, we could be in serious trouble.”

You nod. You won’t say a word.

“Besides Jesse and I, Kix is the only one who knows. He’s with Fives now. Get some rest, it’ll be hard to see him when we arrive,” he nods.

You nod back and take his advice. You try and sleep but to no avail. You do lie still and try to prepare yourself for what you’re about to see.

The ship exiting hyperspace stirs you before Rex comes to get you. He’s quiet and patient while you sigh heavily, knowing you’re about to see him.

The planet you land on is one you’re unfamiliar with but it’s beautiful. Trees and mountains fill your sight. The boys take your bags and lead you to a humble little house nestled in some trees near a small pond.

Rex goes in first, and Jesse waits outside with you. Just in case something has happened. They don’t say that, but you know that’s why.

Rex opens the door back up and gives you both a small nod that it’s ok. Jesse puts his hand on your lower back and walks with you into the little house.

It’s a comfortable space, and you’re greeted with Kix as soon as you walk in. He gives you a soft smile and a nod, telling you that it’s ok.

“He’s in the back,” Kix tells you and the boys let you walk into the bedroom alone to see Fives.

In a cozy bedroom, Fives is laying out on the bed on his back. He’s hooked up to a number of machines. You’d seen a medical droid in the living area with Kix, so you know he’s in good hands. But it still breaks your heart to see him like this.

His head has been shaved, and there’s a cut on the right side of his head. It’s been patched up, but you can still see some old blood that seeped through the bandage. He’s shirtless and there’s a bandage wrapped around his chest from where you can only assume is the blaster injury.

You reach for him and touch his shoulder. Then you stroke his cheek with the back of your finger. You place a tender kiss on his forehead before you lay down on the bed next to him. Careful of everything he’s hooked up to, you rest your head on his shoulder.

You fall asleep there and you don’t know how long you stay there with him. It’s Fives who wakes you. His body stirs and you gasp softly sitting up. His eyes open, you can tell he’s exhausted. Even the rich tones of his skin seem paler. But he smiles when he sees you. His hand reaches up to cup your face and he mumbles a mando’a pet name.

He falls back asleep, and you feel tears well up in your eyes again. Just a brief glimmer of the life in his eyes is enough to bring you joy and sorrow.

You think about when you first knew him. How you and your friends would go to 79’s and they would try to push you in Fives’ direction. How if he ever looked your way you’d look away and avoid his gaze. You did this for weeks. Then he’d leave for a mission, and you wouldn’t see him for months.

Before too long, he approached you. And it was his brothers teasing him. Daring him to talk to you and howling when you agreed to go out with him.

You sniffle softly with a smile at the memory of when you kissed him on the cheek, and he was quick to put his helmet on to hide his flustered face.

The boys would tell you later that you were the first person Fives was interested in that made him act like this. Usually he was smoother, more charismatic with charm. But with you? Brain dead. Just as flustered as you.

That was months ago. But it feels like a lifetime ago. He made a promise to you before his last mission that when the war was over, he’d settle down and marry you. He said this a few weeks back before he left. And now here he is, laying on a bed recovering from being shot.

You sit up and press a kiss to his lips before you climb off the bed. You’re hurting and you need some air. And you think it’s wise to tell Kix that Fives woke for a moment.

“Rex?” you whisper, and he’s quick to stand when you speak his name. “Will you walk with me while I get some air?”

You don’t want to be alone right now. Especially not on this strange new planet. And you trust Rex with your life. You don’t know this, but Fives made Rex promise to keep an eye on you if something ever happened.

Rex is right behind you when you step outside. You breathe deeply and he does too. You can’t imagine it’s ever easy seeing one of your brothers hurt like this.

The two of you begin to explore and walk quietly together.

“Fives is a good man. One of the best I know. He’ll make a good husband I think,” Rex smiles offering you his blessing.

“He told you?” your face warms at the thought of him talking about you.

Rex chuckles, “we always knew in the barracks that night if he had a date with you. He wouldn’t shut up. He told me months ago he wanted to marry you.”

You cover your smile with your hand, and Rex smiles seeing the affection on your face.

“Seeing our brothers find joy in this war is a gift. And you have been a true joy to him.”

You spend the rest of the walk in silence. Enjoying the sound of the wind in the trees. It’s peaceful. You see a few animals and some homes nearby. It’s good to know you aren’t truly alone out here.

You can only assume the boys will pack up and leave- no matter the outcome.

But then Rex gets an unexpected message that they are needed. They have to pack up that night. Kix runs you through everything you need to know about what you can do to help. He’ll leave the medical droid there with you to help as best it can.

You can’t help the tears that fall when the boys get ready to leave.

You give each one a hug and a kiss on his cheek. Thanking them for what they’ve done for you and for Fives.

Rex hugs you a little tighter than the rest, and you know he hates to leave you here alone. Kix feels a pang of guilt leaving Fives too, but none of them are even supposed to be here. Kix has already reported Fives as KIA to keep the both of you safe, but it’s hard to leave.

Then it’s quiet. It’s just you and Fives and a droid. Fives is still resting, and the droid is checking his vitals. Based on what Kix told you, Fives sustained a couple broken ribs from the shot. He should be fine, but it will take time to fully heal, and he will be sore.

That’s how you spend the next couple weeks. Fives slowly starts to heal and he’s able to get on his feet. You take walks when he feels like it, and you learn about each other. For the first time in a long time, you have time to spend together. Getting to share meals and stories and watching silly videos on the holonet.

You even find out about the end of the war when you’re here. The turn of the tide. That there’s an empire now. Fives has a hard time that day. Feeling betrayed, knowing he was right. Pain eating him up inside knowing many of his brothers are out there fighting something in their head they can’t stop. The lives that have been lost. Even the Jedi.

He’s quiet for a few days then. Trying to rationalize what it all means. And where he fits in in this galaxy.

When he comes to bed that night, you know he’s haunted.

“Take it easy my love,” you kiss his temple. His hair is starting to grow back and it’s soft to the touch. You smile at being so close to him. You’ve shared a bed with him for the last few weeks, and even before when you lived on Coruscant. But you’d yet to be intimate with him.

You’d never been intimate with anyone at all. And you know the day will soon come that Fives will be your first. And hopefully your only.

“I can’t believe the war is over,” he says gently pulling you into his arms. It’s less and less painful now to hold you. He kisses your stern brow. “And I made you a promise,” he grins.

You’ve thought about that promise every day. Especially when you thought you might lose him. But now it’s even stronger sharing a bed and all your time with him. He’s so close to you. You can feel his warmth and smell his skin. The soft touch of his lips on yours before bed.

When your relationship was new you told him you wanted him. And he told you the same. But you made an agreement to wait until after the war. You can’t really remember why now. Because when you thought you lost him, all you could think about was the moments that might have been lost. Or the regret.

But now that he’s safe, and the war for him is over – you’re glad you chose this. There’s no urgency. And you both know that once he heals, you’ll take that final step together.

And it’s getting closer. A growing feeling in the pit of your belly tells you. Fives is able to do most things now. He had difficulty staying in bed. Staying still. He wanted to get up and move. He thrives off the day-to-day chores around the house and taking care of their land that you’re not sure how Rex even got ahold of.

You woke yesterday morning in Fives arms and his hard length pressing against you. He was just as flustered as you were, but you saw the flame of desire in his eyes. And that flame licked your body all over. You were tired of waiting, but now you had to for him to heal. You would feel terrible if something happened to him for the sake of pleasure. But you could only imagine his wry chuckle in saying he wouldn’t mind at all.

“Fives?” you call to your lover this afternoon out the window. He’s in the back tending to the garden that has begun to grow. He perks his head up at the sound of your voice and he smiles warmly. With his forearm, he wipes sweat off his brow and joins you inside. “How are you feeling my love?” you ask him after he gives you a kiss. You taste the salt from his sweat and you’re aching. You need him. Now.

He knows you, and your looks. He knows what this means.

“Good enough to keep my promise,” he gives a little wink and pulls off his sweaty shirt. He only grunts a little from the movement, but it’s nothing major. You giggle at his eagerness but then feel your knees buckle at the sight of his sweaty chest. Dark hair is dusted lightly over his pecs and lead down to his waistband.

“Fives,” you moan and touch his skin. This isn’t the first time you’ve seen him shirtless or touched him like this. But it feels different now. There’s a scar and a slight yellowing from his bruise almost done healing.

He reaches for the hem of your shirt when there’s a quiet knock on the door.

Fives laughs because you’ve been alone for weeks and now there’s a knock at this moment.

“Who is it?” Fives calls and Rex answers. You both light up at the sound of his voice, and Fives runs to open the front door for him.

Rex looks exhausted. He has a cut on his head in the same place Fives does. And he wears a tan poncho over his armor. Any humor about the moment has gone when Rex sees Fives and hugs him tight.

Something in you tells you that Rex has lost too many brothers over the last few weeks. And seeing Fives alive is a peace he needed.

“I came to check on the two of you,” he tells you finally. “But I seemed to have interrupted you,” he almost looks shy.

“Actually,” Fives stops and looks at you for a moment with a smile. “You might be just the man we need.”

Fives disappears into the bedroom. You and Rex exchange looks as you hear Fives clattering around. He emerges moments later in full armor. There’s a blast mark on his chest plate and you try not to look at it but it’s the thing on everyone’s mind.

“Why did you put this on?” you ask him touching his shoulder. You love how broad he looks in his armor, and you lean up to give him a kiss on the cheek. You love him so much and it’s hitting you hard seeing him in this armor. Just how you could have lost him and yet here he stands.

“Rex? Wanna marry us? Can you do that?”

Rex smiles bigger than you’ve ever seen, and no one really cares if he can legally or not. You’ve been married to Fives for a long time as far as you’re concerned.

“Well wait, I want to look nice too,” you stop and head to your room to put something else on. You choose one of the nicer things you brought with you when you were scrambling to pack all those weeks ago. You put it on and feel giddy with love.

Fives offers you his arm when you come out, and he leads you outside into the quiet of the woods. He takes your hands in his and Rex stands with the two of you.

“You know, I’ve never actually been to a wedding before,” Rex chuckles, getting a loud laugh from Fives. “Fives,” Rex speaks his brother’s name, and Fives stands at attention. “The Republic has fallen. We live in the times of the Empire now. You’ll always be a soldier but this time – your duty is to this one in front of you. Promise me, yourself, but most importantly to your riduur that you will protect and love with all that you have. I know you will. But it’s an order Fives.”

Rex smiles, and Fives gives a nod. He squeezes your hands, and you know he will keep his promise.

Then Rex looks to you. His eyes are gentle.

“You have been given a gift. And that’s the love of my brother. I know him better than anyone, and I know how much he loves you. I know he would do anything for you. Because I know I would if I were in his shoes. I’m trusting you to look out for him. Protect his heart. I know you have, and I trust you with him.”

By now you have tears in your eyes. But it’s more than just from love- it’s knowing that you have Rex’s trust. He’s one of the best men that you know.

Rex pauses, and steps back a moment. And Fives takes that opportunity to cup your face in his hands and kiss you deeply. Then he presses his forehead to yours and if only you knew then what the gesture meant to him and Rex.

When you part, you reach for Rex and give him another hug and kiss on his cheek.

“I owe you everything,” you tell him, and his brow is stern even with his small smile.

Fives then grabs Rex in an even bigger hug and kisses him loudly on the cheek. They touch foreheads and then Fives laughs shoving Rex on the shoulder telling him to get lost.

“We have things to do,” Fives laughs again, and Rex can only roll his eyes with amusement.

“Stay safe, I’ll contact you if I need you again,” Rex tells you both and with that he’s gone.

The moment Rex is out of sight, Fives grabs you. His hands are on your hips digging into your skin and his lips are on yours. He’s already moaning into you as he backs you into the house.

He knows that you’ve never been with anyone, and it makes him even more hungry to touch you. He’s eager and excited and between his kisses and tugging off your clothes, he makes sure every action is alright.

He’s so excited that he forgets to undress himself, and he has you naked in front of him while he stands in full armor.

“Fives,” you feel shy and tempted to cover yourself while he stands proud in his armor.

“Oh, right,” he chuckles and begins to take off his armor piece by piece. You help him in between kisses, and he sneaks little butt grabs and smacks while he can. He gets distracted easily by the sway of your breasts as you move, and he squeezes them until you squeak.

When he’s free of his armor and blacks and everything else, he tips you back onto the bed and kisses you all over. Every bit of you that he can kiss, he does. His goatee tickles and you tug on his hair even though it’s still really short.

He finds himself between your legs and he takes his time. Going back and forth between his mouth and his hands until you’re crying out his name. He’s almost too rough in his eagerness and you gasp and giggle pushing him off you. You could cry, you’ve never been wanted so much in your life.

“Sorry,” he presses a kiss to your thigh. “You taste so good,” he murmurs against your skin.

“Don’t be,” you feel warm, “I just want more from other parts of you,” you giggle when he raises an eyebrow.

He slides up your body and delves his tongue into your mouth and squeezes your breast again as he lines up with your entrance. He’s slow moving inside and you cry out in his kiss. Your hands are on his shoulders, and you tell him to wait.

He’s patient and kisses you while you adjust to him. But you can tell he’s ready to move. He grunts and his abs tighten, and he can’t help the wince that escapes his lips.

“Do we need to stop?” you ask him, your voice full of concern.

“No,” he shudders when he pushes in a little deeper. “I need you mesh’la.”

He focuses on feeling the pleasure of it and making sure you feel your pleasure. When you arch your back and press your chest to his, something about the action sends him over and he cries out in your ear as he spills inside of you.

He whispers another apology but you’re moaning and gasp when you feel his thumb press where you need him most. You find your release with a whine.

He pulls out of you but stays on you. He slides down a little and rests his head on your chest. His face nestled between your breasts and his ear can hear your heartbeat pound.

“Happy?” you giggle scratching his head as he nuzzles your breast.

“Happier than I’ve ever been. Are you?” he looks up at you, resting his chin on your sternum.

You nod and scratch his back then his scalp. “I’ve never been so happy in my life. I love you baby,” you tell him.

“I love you cyare,” he mumbles kissing your sternum before laying back down.

You don’t know if he’s thinking the same thing, you are. But all you can think about is how a few weeks ago you were laying in this bed with him hoping he would get up. Hoping he would move. Praying he was alive.

Now that you have him in your arms, you’ve never been more thankful he’s alive. But in this case, you don’t want him to move. He feels too good.

He can feel your heartbeat, and you can feel his warmth. The life is in him again and you truly have never been happier to have him alive. Heart pounding and life in his veins, and that fire of love in his eyes.

#arc trooper fives #fives #arc trooper fives x reader #fives x reader #my writing #LKGHKGSGJK I HOPE YALL LIKE THIS!!!!!

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amor-immortalem · 3 years ago

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Looking For a Different Way

Cross posted on AO3

Summary: Lucifer calls Mammon to his office to talk about the improvement of his grades. Seeking to keep his brother on the right path to success, the first-born gives Mammon an item that may make it easier.

Genre: fluff

A/N: So I, like some of you, totally believe Mammon to have ADHD which is why he does so poorly at RAD. That being said I’m writing from my own experience as an individual with a severe combined presentation of ADHD.

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The Avatar of Greed had been spending his afternoon hitting the books while on a video call with his girlfriend. He needed someone to talk to while he studied in case he had questions. He wouldn’t dare bother his brothers for fear that they would call him an idiot if they deemed the question to be too ridiculous.

“Its been amazin’. Hon. It seems like they’re really tryin ta change their ways after that talk a few weeks ago… I mean there have been a few slip ups but they apologize as soon as they realize it.” he smiled excitedly. “Its still hard with ya havin’ ta go back ta the human world though…” he says with a small pout. “It feels like things are harder to get done when ya ain’t around ta keep me on track.”

“I know, Love, but as much as I wish I could stay down there with you, my body does need the sun to function properly. A sun lamp and supplements are only a temporary fix. It won’t be much longer. I’ll be back before exams.”

“Huh? That’s like two months away! I’ll never make it.”

“More like two weeks, Baby.” Arella chuckled as a timer went off in the background. “Alright times up, let’s have a look at your work.”

“That’s still too long.” Another pout, “…..I mss you….”

Unbeknownst to the two of them, Lucifer had been listening in. Mostly interested in how Arella was helping his brother with his course work as he had been searching for ways to better help him improve as a student. After enough listening, the Avatar of Pride called out to his brother.

“Mammon, a word please?” Lucifer says, making his presence known. He doesn’t miss the way his younger brother tenses.

They had only been a few weeks removed from Arella’s revelation that the second-born had been considering ending his own life. Considering how their interactions often ended up, the eldest couldn’t blame his brother for having this type of reaction.

“You’re not in trouble, I promise.”

I… I’ll call ya back later, Babe.” At that, Mammon followed after the demon. If he wasn’t in trouble, he was curious to find out what it could be about.

Once they were in his office, Lucifer ushered his brother over to a chair sat in front of the desk.

“You’re glasses came in today along with mine so I picked them up for you,” he remarks as he passes his younger brother the case they sat in. Mammon opens it and puts them on. “That’s not what I what I wanted to talk about, though.”

“What is it then?” The white haired demon watches as his brother shuffles some papers around on his desk before placing a sheet of paper in front of him. “My grades?”

“Yes. Ever since I talked with Diavolo to amend RAD’s dress code allowing you could wear your sunglasses in class, they’ve gone up one whole letter grade. I always thought you just had a problem with applying yourself to your studies but it turns out I was wrong. I’m very proud of you for doing this much in such a short amount of time.” A rare, prideful smile crossed his face which in-turn caused Mammon to beam at the praise he received from his brother.

“See, I told ya I can do it! You should have more faith in the Great Mammon! By the end of the term, I’ll have my grades up to a C!”

“Wonderful, and to help you reach that goal, Ive been doing some research. I’ve been watching you in the classes we share together. I’ve started to notice in classes that don’t have practical sessions, you’re constantly bouncing your leg or fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. Why is that?”

“Honestly,” Mammon started, “I dunno. I guess it just helps me pay attention better. Sometimes I just have too much energy and its hard to sit still and focus unless some part of me is movin’, ya know?”

“I can’t say that I do, but let’s try using this….” The Avatar of Pride opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a palm sized cube with buttons, switches, and even a little ball one could roll their thumb over. “Arella sent this to me from the human world for you. Apparently, it’s a device humans with certain difficulties use to help them in their classes.” He turned the cube in his hand as he studied it. “Not sure how,” he handed it over to his brother who immediately started to roll the cube in his hand before gripping it and running his thumb over the small metal ball.

“Me neither but hey, if it could help, it ain’t gonna hurt to try…. I really like it actually….” He continued to fiddle with the cube idly.

“We’ll see if it helps for the time being. That’s all I wanted to see you for. You’re free to go.”

Mammon nodded as he got up to leave, off to continue the math homework he’d been working on before this.

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Masterlist 2

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me fluff #obey me mammon #om! mammon #mammon fluff #obey me lucifer #om! lucifer #lucifer fluff #obey me oc #arella

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defiblover27 · 4 years ago

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On The Court

I’m in my teams locker room getting ready for the first game of our tournament. We made it all the way to the national women's college volleyball tournament. This is my senior year so this is my last chance to get a title. I put my long brown hair into a ponytail before putting on my white head band that wraps around my head. I pull my black jersey over my black sports bra supporting my B cup breasts. I slide my knee pads up my toned legs and secure them in place. Finally I put on my white sneakers and look at myself in the mirror. I never imagined when I was younger that at 22 years old I would be at this level. I’m only five foot two but I have trained hard for this day. My team huddles up and gets pumped up for the game. This is what we have trained for and we wont let anything get in the way. The gymnasium was packed, all our friends and family were there to watch us play. The first whistle blew as the other team set the ball. The first few minutes went great for us. We were winning and it looked like an easy win. A few moments later I start to feel lightheaded and start to lose vision. I back up slightly to approach the bench but I never make it. Before I realize what is happening my legs give out and I fall onto the court. I can’t move and I can’t see anything. I hear faint voices getting close to me. Did I pass out? Why can I still hear them? “Someone get the nurse!” I hear my couch shout. “Call 911!” another voice says. What’s going on? I feel someone's hands between my breasts. Who is touching me there? Then there's a sharp pain. They are pushing down hard and fast on my chest. No this cant be happening, someone is giving me CPR, I can count the compressions as my chest caves in. After thirty compressions someone tilts my head back, opens my mouth, pinches my nose, and gives me mouth to mouth. I feel my lungs inflate each time air is forced into them. They give me two breaths before the compressions start again. Before I know it someone I feel someone cutting my jersey off. The place these large sticker like pads on my chest. One between my breasts and one on my lower left side. Suddenly I don’t feel anyone’s hands, “Analyzing do not touch patient” I hear in a mechanical voice. I remember learning about these in health class its an AED. “Shock advised do not touch patient.” It says again. Oh crap I know what comes next, this is gonna hurt. “Pressing flashing shock button now” I feel a sharp pain course throughout my body as the shock is delivered. I feel someone’s fingers pressing into the side of my neck. “She has a pulse!” they exclaim. Thank god, my heart is beating again. It is hard to breath but I manage to get some air. Why am I not waking up? Shouldn't I be awake now?

I feel a tube run across my face and little ones placed into my nose. The paramedics have arrived! They give me much needed oxygen. They roll me onto my side and place a long hard object against my back. They roll me back over and place straps over my body. They shove two large blocks against my head. I feel constrained as if I couldn't move even if I wanted to. They lift me up and place my on a gurney before rolling me outside into the ambulance. I feel cold metal run across my body as the paramedic removes all of my clothes. They strip me naked for the whole world to see. Stickers are placed on my chest and wires are connected to them. I hear a beep and then another, they have me heart rate monitored and I can hear each time it pumps. There is a quick prick in my left arm and then a warm sensation as they start an IV. Everything is going well and I think that I am finally back but, I still can’t seem to wake up. I want to wake up I just need to open my eyes. Suddenly I feel a pain in my chest like the one from before. They beeps in the distant become faster and faster. Why is my heart beating so fast? I can’t hear the beeping anymore... a sharp continuous tone feels the air. “She’s coding hurry up!” Coding? Did my heart stop again? I get my answer before I can think. The paramedic places there gloved hands between my breasts and gives me CPR. This time it hurts more than the first time as they push down with all of their force over and over again. I feel a rib pop from the force of the compressions. A mask reeking of plastic is sealed over my mouth and nose as air is forced into my lungs. They rip the AED pads off of my chest. “Charging to 300″ I hear the paramedic call out. There is an electrical whining as the defibrillator is charged. I feel two cold metal paddles placed against my chest but they also have a cold gel on them. “Shocking” before I can prepare myself the shock courses through my body. I feel my chest try and rise up but I am constrained by the straps of the backboard. “No change charging again” Why didn’t the shock work this time? The paramedic uses one hand to compress my chest. I feel my ribs cave in each time. In a moment the paddles are back on my bare chest and I am shocked again. “Asystole” I hear them call out. My heart still isn’t beating. Is this it, is this where I die? There hands are back on my chest as the continue CPR for what seems like an eternity. They leave my chest for just a few seconds as they push a new fluid through my IV. This one burns as I feel it course through my body. As the compressions continue my heart begins to quiver again. “V-fib charging to 360″ The whining of the machine fills the air again. The paddles are back on my chest and I am shocked again. The higher voltage causes a greater pain as I try to make my heart beat again. “No change” The fear is increasing as I wonder if they will be able to save me. The ambulance stops and they roll me out. The paramedic straddles my body and I feel their pelvis pressing against mine. They continue CPR on me as they roll me into the hospital. Now even more people will see my nude body.

I am rolled into a room as one of the paramedics tells the doctors what is going on. “22 year old female, suffered a cardiac arrest at a volleyball game. Was brought back to normal sinus by the AED. Crashed in the ambulance five minutes ago. Has been given one round of epi and shocked three times. Currently in V-fib. Continuous CPR the entire time.” The paramedic gets off of me as they lift me over to a new bed. The straps are removed and the wires are plugged into a new monitor. A nurse takes over compressions while someone else opens my mouth a puts a metal hook into it. I feel them force a long tube all the way down my throat. There is some kind of strap wrapped around my neck as they secure the tube. “Charge the paddles to 360 please.” I feel multiple sets of hands on my body as they each fight to save me life. In a moment the paddles are back on my chest and I am shocked. This time my head snaps back and I feel my chest rise into the air before crashing back down onto the bed. “No change charge again” CPR is continued as my heart takes a beating. Before I know it the paddles are on my chest and everyone backs away. “All clear, shocking” My arms flail off the bed as my chest rises and falls again. “Asystole, push epi and resume compressions” I remember that word, asystole, that means my heart isn't moving at all. The burning sensation returns as the medicine is forced into my body. I feel someone pull my eyelids open but I can’t see anything. They shine a bright light into my eyes and then pull it away. “Pupils are sluggish” I feel my arms bounce up and down with each compression that I am given. Each second feels like an eternity as they fight for my life. “V-fib charge paddles to 360″ I hear the whining of the machine and a squirting noise as they place more of that gel onto the paddles. CPR is stopped and the paddles are placed on my chest again. “Everyone clear, shock” I hear the doctor say as I am defibrillated again. My feet twitch and I feel my toes scrunch up before relaxing again. “Again” For just a few second hands are between my breasts and pounding away before the paddles are on my chest again. “All clear, shocking” Bam I am shocked again as I feel my hands form loose fists and my chest rise and fall. “Back in asystole, what's her down time?” I hear the doctor ask. “Twelve minutes doctor” a distant voice responds. “Prepare a thoracotomy tray please” What the hell is that? CPR is continued and a fluid is splashed all across my left chest. I feel a blade cut away at my side below my breast. Blood pours out and I hear in trickle on the floor. They suction away some of my blood. They place metal bars in my chest and spread my ribs apart. I feel the doctors hands wrapped around my hear as he squeezes it rhythmically. They push more medicine into me and two minutes later I am back into a shockable rhythm. I feel two spoon shaped metal paddles placed into my chest and around my heart. “Charge to 20 joules” They back away from my nude body and the paddles deliver a shock. My body twitches but the pain is greater than the previous ones. “Charge to 30 joules” Again the paddles shock me as my toes scrunch and my body twitches. “No change charge again” I hear the doctor whisper something “Come on girl” he wants me to come back. I feel the shock course through my heart as my body jolts. There is a moment of silence. A sharp tone feels the air as the doctor slowly removes the paddles from inside my chest. “Downtime?” he asks. “Eighteen minutes.” a voice responds. No one is squeezing my heart, there are no paddles in my chest. All there is a a ventilation every few seconds filling my lungs. They shine the light in my eyes again. “Pupils fixed and dilated.” What's going on? “Time of death 14:47″ What? No please keep going I’m not ready to die. I feel them disconnect the bag from the tube in my throat and the tone is silenced. They wipe the gel off my chest and disconnect the wires. They wrap a sting with a small card on it around my big toe. They drape a sheet over my naked body and leave the room. That’s it... I’m dead.

#defibrillator #defib #cpr #resuscitation #resus

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mandowh0re · 4 years ago

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Peter’s Emergency Contact

Summary: Peter meets the Avengers. It doesn’t go well.

A/N: I’m a terrible person tell me to finish my wips. Also I’m sorry about May :(

P.s. it’s been a long time since I picked this fic up so there are some continuum issues, please forgive me.

Part1/ Part2/ Part3/ Part 4

Part 4

Putting it mildly, Peter was fucking bored. It was summer, but both Ned and MJ were on vacation with their families. And on top of that, it was way too hot to go out and do anything, including patrol. He was, however, on stand by if Karen came through with anything that required Spider-Man’s assistance.

A few floors down, the ex-Rogue Avengers were doing god knows what. They had been pardoned a month earlier and moved back into the tower. Peter had yet to meet them, though Tony seemed okay with them. But Peter didn’t really trust them.

Well, okay. He more-so didn’t trust Steve. Even though the others fought against Tony too, it was Steve that scared Tony. Peter noticed minute things that Tony would do whenever the Captain was mentioned. He’d fidget, or grab his left wrist, or rub his chest, or bite the inside of his cheek. Mostly stuff that would fly past most people.

But Peter wasn’t ‘most people’. Officially, Peter was Tony’s child. After a car accident killed May about eight months prior, Tony legally adopted Peter. Since then, Peter has learned all of Tony’s tells. Wanting to get to the bottom of these anxious ticks, Peter hacked his way around FRIDAY’s systems to figure out what had happened.

Peter wasn’t one to give into rage, but that day he spent a majority of his time in the gym or swinging through the city because he was basically vibrating from the emotion.

But they lived in the same tower, and maybe Peter was desperate for something to do, so he decided to head down to the common room where FRIDAY had informed him that a few of the Avengers were hanging out.

The elevator dinged and Peter walked out to the sight of… Christmas decorations?

“What the…” He breathed, looking around the room.

“You’re not Stark,” Natasha said, suddenly appearing in front of Peter.

Peter had to literally fight down his fanboy excitement to greet the literal Black Widow!

“Uh, no. I mean, technically I am but-”

“You’re Peter, right?” Was that a smirk? Peter couldn't tell.

“Uh, y-yeah. How-?”

“I have my ways of finding things out,” Okay, now that was a smile, “I haven’t told anyone though. So you’ll have to introduce yourself to them.” She said as she tossed her head to the side, motioning to the others on the floor.

“Oh, right.”

Peter followed Natasha farther into the room, gaining the attention of the rest of the crew including Wanda Maximoff, Vision (who Peter had actually met before), Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, and Bruce (who Peter had also met before as he and Thor showed up about two months after May’s death).

“Uh, who’s the child, Nat?” Clint asked, sitting on the kitchen island.

Natasha looked at Peter, who began picking at the hem of his shirt. A nervous tick of his own.

“Uh, hi, Mister Barton. I’m Peter. Uh, Peter Parker. Or, Peter Parker-Stark now I guess? I’m-”

“Wait, excuse me, Parker-Stark? Since when the hell did Stark have a child?” Sam cut in.

“Let him finish,” Wanda berated the man, who seemed to currently be baking cookies, “Go on,” She said to the other teenager in the room, smiling kindly.

“Right, so uh, Tony hired me as his personal intern like two years ago, and we got pretty close. My aunt died last December and since she was my last family, Tony took me in and adopted me.” Immediately after mentioning his aunt’s death, almost everyone in the room looked at him with pity.

“I’m sorry kid,” That was Clint again, “Life sucks sometimes.”

“I’m adjusting,” Peter replied, but he quickly changed the subject, “Why are you decorating for Christmas? It’s almost a hundred degrees outside, not to mention it’s July.”

“Ah, that was my idea!” Sam called from the kitchen where he was currently pulling cookies out of the oven, “Since we’re on house arrest until further notice, I thought we could entertain ourselves with Christmas in July. It’s something we used to do when I was younger.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!”

“You’re welcome to join, kid.” Bruce called from his spot on the couch.

“Really? Thanks guys!” Peter jumped onto a seat at the island.

“Have a cookie, man.” Sam said, holding out a plate of santa shaped sugar cookies.

“Aw sweet!” The boy grabbed one and took a bite, “Thanks!”

About fifteen minutes passed by when Peter’s senses upped a few notches.

“Any cookies left, Sam?”

Peter nearly choked on his current cookie and jumped up to see Steve Rogers walking out of the elevator.

“Yep, a few plates full. There’s sugar, gingerbread, and chocolate chip.”

A few seconds passed before the super soldier noticed Peter.

“Um, hello. I’m Steve, you are?” He offered a hand for Peter to shake.

Peter tried to respond, but the room suddenly began spinning. He gripped onto the counter to steady himself.

“Son?” Steve asked.

“Don’ call me tha’,” Peter tried to glare, but he wasn’t even sure he was controlling his face properly.

Out of nowhere his legs gave out, and black began overtaking his vision.

A chorus of exclamations rang out as everyone ran over to tend to the boy. Fortunately and unfortunately, Steve was the closest and was the one to grab Peter before he hit the ground.

“No! Let me go!” He struggled against Steve’s arms to no avail.

“Calm down, son, I’m just-”

“What happened?” Bruce asked, feeling for Peter’s pulse.

“He just collapsed.” Sam answered.

Then Peter began seizing.

“Fuck, Sam, start a timer to time the seizure. Steve, pick him up and bring him to the medbay with me. Natasha, call Tony.”

“Why are we calling Tony?” Steve asked, following Bruce into the elevator.

It was silent for a moment where Bruce and Nat exchanged glances before Bruce answered, “He’s Tony’s kid.”

“Since when-”

“Later Steve. One thing at a time.”

***

“This better be important. Like, life or death because you pulled me out of a meeting and Pepper-”

“Shut up, Stark. Something is wrong with Peter.”

Tony was quiet for a moment before growling back, “Explain, Romanoff. Now.”

“I don’t know, Tony. He came down and introduced himself and was hanging out with us when he just collapsed and started seizing. We’re taking him to the medbay now-”

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I’m in DC. I’ll have to come back with the suit but it’ll still take me an hour.”

“What do you want me to-”

“Do not let him out of your sight, Nat. I don’t want him waking up alone and you and Bruce are the only two I trust enough to watch him. Keep me updated, I’ll let you know when I’m there.”

“Got it.”

***

“He’s showing symptoms of anaphylactic shock,” Bruce said to the other two occupants after injecting Peter with an anticonvulsant, “ FRIDAY, is Peter allergic to anything? Override code six one three three nine seven five.”

“Peter is allergic to peppermint, and as well has severe reactions when in close vicinity to insect repellents.”

“Was there peppermint in Sam’s cookies?”

“One moment, Doctor Banner.” A few seconds passed before the AI came back with an answer, “Mister Wilson has supplied that the sugar cookies had peppermint extract in them.”

“Peter had several of those,” Nat said quietly.

“Okay, okay at least I can work with that. Steve,” Bruce called to the soldier while pulling out an epinephrine pen, “I think it’d be better if you waited with everyone else. Thank you for helping.”

Steve wanted to argue, but he looked at Nat who seemed to agree with Bruce.

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything else.” He offered before walking out the door.

As soon as the door shut behind him Nat spoke, “If Peter hadn’t accidentally poisoned himself I’m pretty sure he would have punched Steve.”

Bruce finished injecting the medicine and pulled the pen away from Peter’s thigh, “He still might.”

Natasha helped Bruce fix an IV drip in Peter’s arm in silence.

“You don’t have to stay, I can watch him until Tony gets here.” Bruce offered.

“He won’t be here for another forty five minutes. Plus, I’m supposed to keep watch. Stark’s orders.”

Bruce nodded in understanding, “His vitals are starting to return to normal. I’ll go update the others.”

“I’ll call Tony.”

***

Peter felt like he’d been hit by a train.

Had he?

Honestly he couldn’t remember what had happened. He opened his eyes to see Tony next to his bed (why was he in the medbay?) talking to someone on the other side of his bed. Soon his ears stopped ringing and he heard another hushed voice. Probably whoever Tony was talking to. Why did Tony look upset?

Peter turned his head to see Steve standing there.

And

What?

Without really having his wits about him yet, Peter jumped up and shoved the man back, pulling and knocking over his IV stand in the process.

“Woah, Pete! Calm down-”

“What? You didn’t get to kill him in Siberia so you thought you’d come and finish the job while I’m out?” Peter practically snarled.

Steve’s eyes blew wide, shock and shame overtaking his features, “Son, I-”

“And stop calling me that!” Peter shoved again, sending the captain into the wall, leaving a sizable crack.

“Peter!” Tony yelled, grabbing at the kid’s arm, “Calm down, bud. He’s not here to hurt me, or you for that matter. Can you please sit back down before you give me another damn heart attack?”

Peter obliged but his eyes never left Steve, who looked to be in too much of shock to really say anything.

“Cap, let the team know he’s awake, will ya?” It really wasn’t a suggestion or a question, more like a thinly veiled disguise to get him out of the room before Peter decided he hadn’t had enough.

Nodding, Steve hightailed it out of the room, but not before looking back at Peter and offering a quick apology.

It was quiet for a few moments, in which time Tony set the IV stand back up and made sure Peter’s IV was still in place. Finally the older man spoke, “Pete, buddy, what was all that about? How do you know what happened in Siberia?”

Peter’s demeanor fell slightly as he came back to himself, “Wasn’t hard to guess.”

“Mhmm. Wanna try again? Maybe with the truth this time?” Tony said as he sat back down next to his kid.

Peter crossed his arms and looked down at the floor.

“I hacked FRIDAY,” He mumbled.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Tony asked.

Peter sighed audibly before repeating himself, louder this time, “I hacked FRIDAY.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because you were beat up and withdrawn after we got back from Germany. Which, okay, fine. We weren’t in a place for you to tell me what happened. But then the pardon for them was beginning to go through and every time Steve was even mentioned, you had these reactions like you were nervous or something. And I wanted to know why. I already had a pretty good idea. Then I saw the footage and I just… I don’t want him near you..”

“Peter, buddy. Look at me, please,” Tony gently held the boy’s chin and turned his head so that he looked at Tony, “Thank you for looking out for me. But that’s not your responsibility,”

“Yes it is! I can’t-” His throat catches and a lump forms, tears making their way to the surface, “I’ve lost everyone because I couldn’t protect them. I can’t lose you too.”

Tony pulls Peter in for a hug, and cards his fingers through the kid’s curls, “It’s okay to cry, honey. But I’m not going anywhere. Remember that. The universe will have to personally fight me before I let anything get between us. Understood?” Peter nodded slightly, but clung to his father’s shirt as he cried.

Eventually Peter fell asleep in Tony’s arms.

“I love you, kid. I’m not going anywhere.” Tony whispered, placing a kiss on top of the curls on his kid’s head.

And yes. Peter did end up punching Captain America. We don’t bring that up.

***

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vikingpoteto · 4 years ago

Text

middle children must unionize

read on ao3 ______________________

my contributior for @batfam-big-bang

Summary: Jason realizes no one is taking care of Tim - not even Tim himself. He decides to do something about it.

Notes: I can't stress enough how grateful I am for joining this event. First of all, stan the mods. Stan my beta reader team, @timmydrakewings, @stormleviosa and @sun-lit-roses. Stan my artist team @houser-of-stories, @reese-haleth and @anicomicqueen To all of these amazing talented people that, for whatever reason chose to help me with this story, I can't stress enough how grateful I am. ________________________

Jason doesn’t keep in touch with the Bats after Bruce’s gone.

Batwoman only trusts him as far as she can throw him. Dick is not easy to avoid, but Jason keeps their contact to a minimum nonetheless. Ninja girl doesn’t speak with him. Replacement… Well. Jason does have a weird professional relationship with the kid. As professional as you can get with someone you tried to kill. Barbara will probably never forgive him for making Dick cry so many times. Brat girl will probably never forgive him for trying to kill Replacement. The other one, whatever his name is, is low-key/high-key terrified of Jason. As for the gremlin... Well, he’s like 10? 11? Jason doesn’t hang out with children, not even assassin ones.

So yeah. Not on friendly terms with anyone in the Wayne family.

However he is an instigator at heart and, while whatever they’re doing in the Batcave is none of his business, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t finish one of his rare visits by stirring things up a bit.

Dick usually makes sure he doesn’t do anything too outrageous, but a distraction comes in the form of Gremlin, who shows up demanding to know why Dick is late for their training session or whatever. The brat sends Jason a scathing look but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge him. Dick only smiles patiently and waves Jason goodbye, leaving Replacement unsupervised. Before heading out, Jason approaches Replacement, who’s sitting by the batcomputer.

“So,” he starts. Jason notices when the kid flinches a little. Your regular guy wouldn’t, but Jason was once a bat too. “How does it feel to be replaced, Replacement?”

Replacement’s shoulders go stiff for half a second.

When he turns to face Jason, however, his expression is empty.

“Predictable,” he says.

Jason quirks an eyebrow up. “Meaning?”

“I was only a Robin because I was, how can I put this, a coworker?” Replacement turns his eyes back to the computer and starts typing. “It was a no-strings-attached sort of deal. Bound to end at some point.”

That’s… new.

“You’re legally adopted into the Wayne family,” Jason hears himself reminding him.

“Yeah, ain’t that a pickle,” Replacement laughs. “Can you guess who forced Bruce to do that? My money was on Dick, but now I think it was probably Babs or Alfred.”

Jason stares, unsure what to make of that. Before he decides, the kid stands up.

"I have always been a patch job, so being dismissed is to be expected. I'm just overstaying my welcome at this point."

“You can get dismissed? I thought this was an until-your-untimely-death sort of gig.”

That was not how Jason expected this conversation to go, like, at all. He had never seen Replacement looking so… worn out? Lifeless?

“I don’t know, man,” Tim frowns as though he made himself confused. “God, I’m sleepy. See you around, I guess.”

And Jason watches him leave the cave with his shoulders hunched and an empty stare. Dick and Gremlin are so preoccupied with their sparring session that they don’t seem to notice. Jason sticks around for a few more seconds, stunned, before he realizes what he’s doing. He goes home.

Jason can’t stop thinking about what the kid said.

It’s not that he didn’t think something of the sorts, especially when he was angriest at Bruce. He had thought about how Batman trained his children to be soldiers and, like soldiers, they could be easily replaced. After all, what was one more problem child joining their broken family? What’s another deadly brat being thrown at some creeps wearing literal clown costumes?

He did think of them as Bruce’s kids though.

Not that Batman had any expertise in healthy parenting techniques, but Jason didn’t have any healthy son experiences to compare so it didn’t matter much. They were Batkids for the better and mostly for the worse, and if something happened to them, well, the crusade must go on.

He never thought of Robin as someone that could be sent home out of the blue, like your average GC Pig. A disgrace to the family? Sure. See, kids, we don’t talk about cousin Jason. He got himself killed and came back all crooked. That’s what happens if you kill murderers or forget to brush your teeth. Still, the idea of being dismissed for no reason never occurred to Jason. It was absurd, because, as far as Jason knew, his replacement was the perfect little soldier. Why would he walk away?

Dick fought with Bruce. Jason… well. You know. Brat girl had to move cities or whatever? Or she died, but got better? Jason doesn’t really know anything about the chick. Either way, he knows she became Batgirl soon after. Tim, however, had nothing stopping him from staying masked. Why would Replacement talk about being Robin as if it was a summer job?

Does that mean that the wimpy kid Jason has been bullying was really that cold and detached?

He thinks about it until his head hurts and he starts remembering times with Bruce and Dick and Alfred and suddenly he doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

It’s a good thing Jason is good at compartmentalizing, because that’s what he does. He pushes thoughts of Batman and Robin to the depths of his mind and forgets about it.

He doesn’t find out until weeks later.

He’s not visiting the manor because he wants to. It’s just that there is this stupid encrypted information he needs for a case and he isn’t exactly tech savvy. He doesn’t think Barbara would do him a solid - she’s still ignoring him for… whatever. He doesn’t even know. Probably something about hurting Dick’s pwecious feewings or eating the last cookie Alfred made. Either way, Jason first tries contacting Replacement directly. Only when the kid doesn’t pick up he forces himself to go to the cult headquarters.

He needs that data, dammit, and whoever called programming logic, was out of their damn mind. If true, execute commands 1, 2 and IV, it said. If what was true? Jason read and read and still didn’t get what it was referring to. And why would someone name the commands regular numbers then just… throw a fucking roman number? Just to spice things up? Whoever wrote that damn code should get a bullet in the foot.

“Jay!” Dick grins at him, although he looks unamused by the fact that Jason is coming in through a window on the second floor. “You do remember that we have a door, don’t you?”

“I like to keep ‘em guessing,” Jason says. “Which room is the kid’s? I have a job for him.”

Dick tilts his head to the side, confused. “Damian is at school?”

And then there’s that. A lot to unpack. First, Jason is deeply offended that Dick thinks he would ever go there after Gremlin, the child that likes to criticize Jason's skills despite the fact that a) Jason was trained by Damian's father and then b)Jason was trained by Damian's mother. Second, Damian Wayne. Going to Gotham Academy. Does he wear the uniform? Does he have homework or does he threaten the teachers with a sword until they quit? Did anyone explain to him the concept of playing tag before he murders a bunch of 9 year olds? Jason has so many questions. If only he had time.

“I said the kid . The human one, not the imp.”

“Oh.” Dick seems taken aback. “Oh, he... Jason, Tim isn’t in Gotham. You didn’t know?”

Jason groans. “Are you kidding me? You annoyed him into leaving the planet with his alien friends again, didn’t you?”

“No, he… I actually don’t know where he is now.”

Jason blinks in surprise. So Dick didn’t pick Bruce’s habit of microchipping his kids?

“What do you mean you don’t know? How do you lose a whole Robin? The uniform is basically a traffic cone.”

Dick sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Jason had seen Bruce do just that so many times he forgets for a moment whatever stupid joke he was about to make. When did his older brother become the dad?

“He left a while ago. He barely spent any time here at the manor after I gave Robin to Damian, so…”

Jason freezes. After I gave Robin to Damian, he says. Being dismissed is to be expected, the kid said weeks ago.

“Dick. What the fuck did you do?”

Dick looks surprised at the raw anger in Jason’s voice, even though he shouldn’t fucking be. Jason remembers the distant voice on that day. He did think that was oddly cold for Replacement, even if he was a calculating nerd. Except that wasn’t him being cold. That was him lying to himself.

Jason would know. He spent most of his childhood telling himself he didn’t need a loving father. A good part of his teenage years telling everyone that would hear that he didn’t care at all that Bruce kept holding him to the standards of the perfect son that went away. It’s a lot easier to pretend you didn’t care because it makes it hurt less when things are taken away. Jason was a fucking pro at that technique, so much he wonders how the hell he didn’t notice earlier.

“I did what I had to do,” Dick says, defensively. The way he does when he’s second guessing himself, but still in denial about it. “Tim’s a hero of his own right and he’s capable enough that…”

“That you fucking fired him?” Jason barks.

“Damian needs Robin, Jason! He’s just so lost and being Robin gave him a sense of purpose, allowed him to actually be a child.”

“No shit Gremlin is a child! What about Replacement? He’s, what, 15?”

“He’s 17, how do you not know your own brother’s age?”

“Whatever! He’s just a teen and you basically just told him to fuck off.”

Dick sighs. “Look, I tried to help Tim. Tim’s friends tried to help Tim. But he’s a mature person and he wanted some time for himself.”

Ain’t that a familiar song. A good dose of leave me the fuck alone while still wearing a goddamn bat on his chest and making sure to make enough noise to draw attention. He doesn’t like how close it hits to home, how Dick, who’s supposed to be the best of them, ends up being just as shit as recognizing emotions as any other Bat. Jason laughs without any humor.

Incensed, Dick’s jaw sets in challenge as he adds: “I trust Tim and I respected his choice to leave on his own mission, because he knows what’s right for him.”

“Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night,” Jason says. “You’re right. Give the demon what he needs. Replacement is a grown ass adult because you respect him so much .”

“Jason, I didn’t say that…”

“He was never a kid here, Dick, even I know that. You all keep throwing shit at him, messes for him to fix ‘cause it’s fine, it’s little Timmy, he’s so fucking capable, he can take it. Have you ever considered that he was always an adult because you all are the fucking children?”

I have always been a patch job sounds awfully similar to I’m here because he got lonely after you left.

But apparently Dick is done exercising his brotherly patience and Jason hit a nerve.

“What do you know about him? You never bothered to talk to him, to spend time with him. You don’t know shit about Tim.”

Jason scoffs. Dick’s face grows unevenly red.

“You don’t, Jason! You were busy trying to kill him. Remember that bonding experience? Must have been fun for him. Having the hero he grew up admiring trying to murder him?”

Jason throws the first punch. Dick easily dodges, the motherfucker, the damn superior Robin.

Screw it, Jason thinks as they start yet another classic Robin Brawl that would only end when Ninja Girl mysteriously dropped from the ceiling and kicked both of their asses.

Jason doesn’t hear from the cave for a while. His phone gets a weird virus, so he guesses Oracle heard he pushed Dick down the stairs. He just tosses the whole thing away and decides that screw his stupid case with the weird code, screw detective work. The biggest detectives aren’t around anymore. He'll just call Kory and convince her to help torch the place up and hopefully the new Batman and Robin will have to deal with the aftermath.

The next time Jason hears from his brothers, it’s a frantic call from Dick that makes Jason’s blood turn into ice: freaking Ra’s Al Ghul is in Gotham doing his whole Head of the Demon thing. He grabs his bike and he’s still on the comms with Dick as he heads to the manor because Alfred is in there.

“What did Gremlin do?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Dick answers and Jason can barely hear him over the wind. He’s probably swinging around Gotham as he speaks. “It was Tim. Tim’s back and Ra’s is after him and everyone he cares about.”

Fuck. This is the kid Dick trusted to go out alone on a self-discovery journey or whatever. Jason wonders what the hell he had been up to get that much unwanted attention.

In the end, everything works out, kind of. No one on their side dies, but Tim does get thrown out of a window. Of a very, very, veeery tall building. Jason still thinks he got off too easy. As smart as he is, Tim shouldn’t have survived a run in with Ra’s.

Jason is curious enough about it to stay in the cave after the fact. He and Dick sit near Tim’s bed while Leslie works her magic. Dick doesn’t take his eyes from his little brother’s pale face for even a second.

“We almost lost him,” he whispers at some point. “Again, we… I almost lost him.”

“But you didn’t,” Jason says, voice flat. “You saved him.”

Dick bites his lower lip hard enough to break the skin. Jason punches his shoulder to snap him out of it.

“Jay, about last time…”

“Ugh, don’t apologize, you freak. Why can’t you just bottle up your emotions and pretend nothing happened like the rest of this stupid family?”

That makes Dick give him a weak smile. If not for the bottling up part, for the part in which Jason admits they’re a family.

“You were… well, not right. I still think Tim shouldn’t be treated like a sidekick anymore,” Dick continues, despite Jason’s disgusted noises. “But he shouldn’t be left alone either. No one in this family should.”

Jason pretends to be gagging long enough that Dick gives up on trying to be a sensible adult and returns to silently watching over his brother.

After that, it’s a matter of stalling and by stalling he ends up watching the other Bats. He finds from Alfred that Ninja Girl isn’t looming over Tim’s bed because she’s in Hong Kong. Brat girl comes and goes the whole night and Jason doesn’t understand why she can’t simply sit down and wait as a pile of nerves like Dick is doing. At some point, she reads the morning newspaper and starts making so much fuss the one Jason doesn’t know the name - Dave? Dylan? - takes her upstairs to calm her down. Damian is nowhere to be found

In the end, Jason manages to be there when Replacement wakes up. Everyone is busy celebrating, too elated that Replacement is fine, so much they forget Jason is still lurking around. No one sees when his face goes pale and he feels like he’s going to puke.

“How did you know I was going to catch you?” Dick asks.

Tim gives him a tired smile. “You’re my brother, Dick. I knew you’d save me.”

Fuck.

Fuck. It’s like looking into a goddamn mirror, except Tim is so much better at this than Jason ever was. So much that he might even be fooling himself.

But he can’t fool Jason. Dick wants to believe in the best of them, he wants them all to be sane and safe and happy - as much as a Bat can be, at least - but Jason is more of a realist. He knows no one can plan that far ahead. He knows Tim went to a meeting with the Head of the Demon fully aware that he would most likely be carried out in a coffin. Considering Dick’s misstep from a couple months earlier and the fact that Tim had already assigned him and Damian a task, Batman was the last person Tim was expecting to show up.

Of course Dick would save him, any of them. Despite his issues with Bruce, Jason had his hero worship towards his brother restored pretty fast. Dick, the golden boy, the perfect son, loved him no matter what and Jason loved him back. Knew now that Dick had love enough to go around for all of them - all of them. But did Tim know that?

Tim finished his little mission, wrapped it all pretty with a bow, making sure no one kicked the bucket. Except for himself. Timothy Drake-Wayne was the contingency plan for Batman’s contingency plan, but he didn’t care enough to make a plan for himself.

Bruce is gone. Dick is painfully blind. The Drakes are dead. Alfred has his hands full. The Behemoths or the Little League, or whatever the hell the super kids call themselves now, were just that. Kids. Jason curses to himself, because, if no one else will watch out for Replacement, it’s none of his fucking business.

It’s not.

However…

Jason doesn’t know how to put his not-plan in action. He can’t exactly walk up to Tim and say hey, I think we’re not so different, you and I, so I’m worried for your safety. I know I tried to kill you, but that like... two years ago, get over it. Let’s be friends.

Before he figures it out, he hears that Bruce is back. The real Bruce.

He doesn’t know how to feel about it, so he decides to put some distance between him and the family one more time as he takes some weeks to process. He goes out of town to hang out with his friends. He is done with Gotham bullshit for a while.

Unfortunately, Jason finds himself facing his worst enemy: the damn encrypted data.

He hates that dealers now do their thing through the internet. Who the fuck buys marijuana online? Where is the poetry in that? The class of being friends with the sketchy guy that lives around the corner and hangs out with you while you smoke? If they’re gonna sell oregano online to rich white kids, fine, but they’re selling heavy stuff to people that live in his territory and there is a thing bigger than just drugs, if Jason’s hunch is right. He could confirm it by cracking the numbers he stole from their stupidly unguarded computers.

Except the encryption is too complicated for him to access the files.

Well, isn’t that the perfect excuse to take a visit to the kid’s apartment.

Because that is the situation right now. The kid is emancipated, controlling Wayne Enterprises and living by his damn self. There is so much to unpack that Jason wants to throw away the whole suitcase.

He should probably do just that, or at least that’s what he thinks when he climbs to Tim’s balcony (in his head, he hears Dick’s voice going what do you hate about front doors, man?) and he is immediately pushed to the ground.

He is wearing his helmet, sure, but it doesn’t make it less painful when someone fucking stomps on his head, forcing his face against the floor.

“Fuck,” is all Jason thinks of saying.

He then kicks his assailant in the shin and is satisfied when they tumble backwards. Unfortunately for him, they - she - doesn’t fall over the railing, she just stays away long enough to give him time to stand.

A bald girl wearing a distasteful crop top glares daggers at him. She is already back on her fighting stance - one that looks way too familiar for Jason’s taste - ready to strike. And strike she does.

Her movements are similar to Jason’s - fast, strong, unpredictable, unfair - but she has the advantage of being more slender and having more freedom of movement in the small space. All Jason can do is defend himself and not get tossed over the edge. Who the fuck is this girl? Why is she attacking him? Doesn’t she know he is the freaking Red Hood? He just wanted the damn-

“What on Earth are you guys doing on my balcony?”

The girl freezes. Jason does not. He lands a punch straight on her nose and she falls backwards, her mouth opening in pain even if no sound comes out.

“What the hell, Hood!”

Tim rushes to the girl’s side.

“What the hell Hood?” Jason parrots, indignant. “I just got here and she attacked me!”

Tim frowns and turns to the girl. “Is that true?”

Instead of answering, the girl holds her bloody nose and glares at him. She uses her free hand to show Tim four fingers. Tim sighs.

“I know it’s the fourth time you’ve had your nose broken,” Tim gives her a wry smile. “But the three other times you had it coming. And maybe even this time. Why did you attack Red Hood?”

She makes the gesture of someone walking with two fingers then points at Tim’s balcony door. Jason doesn’t know a lot of ASL, but those don’t seem to be the same signs Cassandra uses.

“She attacked me because she thought I was trying to break in?” He asks. “You have a bodyguard now?”

Tim stands and holds out his hand to the girl. She begrudgingly takes it and lets him pull her to her feet. “Why don’t we all go inside before someone notices the Red Hood on my balcony?”

Jason grumbles in annoyance but does make his way in. Tim is right behind him and Jason can’t help but think he’s acting as a shield in case the girl wants revenge for her nose.

“Come here, Pru, I’ll get something cold for your nose.”

Jason takes a look around. As they cross the living room, he notices it looks like a shiny rich person apartment you’d see in a magazine. Jason wasn’t sure what he expected of Tim’s new crib, and he knows the kid just moved in, but the fact that the place looks like a hospital’s reception makes him feel some sort of way.

Fortunately, the kitchen is a bit better. Not much, but it’s something. There are papers spread across the table, dirty glasses in the sink, a mug full of black steaming tea, Tim’s laptop open on top of a pile of books, and there are pictures on the fridge. Jason remembers vaguely Dick mentioning that one of the kids had a thing for photography and another liked drawing. He has to assume Tim is the photographer as he takes a good look at them: one of Brat girl’s grinning face with a big heart magnet, one of Tim and Cassandra sharing the same reading chair, one of Bruce in one of those fancy sweaters he used to wear at home, one of Dick and Cassandra doing handstands, one of a red head kid, behind him Tim, a muscular girl and an even more muscular guy. Jason doesn’t need to be a detective to figure those, even without the uniforms, are Impulse, Wonder Girl and Superboy.

“So,” Tim starts. He hands the girl a pack of frozen peas and shrugs at her dirty look. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Without ceremony, the girl takes a seat by the table and tries to steal a glance at Tim’s laptop. He casually closes it and smiles at her. She scoffs.

“First, you explain the bodyguard,” Jason says, gesturing to the girl.

“Right. Where are my manners? Pru, this is Red Hood. Hood, this is Prudence.”

He doesn’t turn to her so she can read his lips or use gestures to speak, so Jason figures she isn’t deaf, only mute. Maybe it’s something like Cassandra?

“Really? Prudence? That’s ironic. ”

She shows Jason her middle finger. Definitely not deaf then.

Unlike Prudence, Jason doesn’t make himself at home. When he crosses his arms and doesn’t say anything for a minute more, Tim reads his silence correctly and adds, “We’re working together for a while and there are a lot of people that want us dead, so you’ll have to forgive her. She saw a suspicious guy trying to get into my place and she assumed the worst.”

Jason quirks an eyebrow. Tim can’t see his expression behind the helmet, but he sighs nonetheless.

“Come on. She couldn’t know I sometimes work with the Red Hood too.”

I sometimes work with. Ouch. Jason supposes that’s fair, though. Tim hasn’t exactly been informed of Jason’s newfound empathy or his protective streak.

“How did you know where I live, by the way?” Tim asks.

“Alfred told me you moved,” Jason says. “I got your address from Cassandra.”

Tim’s brows disappear under his messy fringe. “Really?”

Jason nods. “Took a lot of convincing before she believed I didn’t want to kill you in your sleep.”

At that, Tim snorts. He’s still grinning when he asks, “What did you want it for then?”

“Tech support,” he says as he fishes a small flash drive from his pocket. “I was hoping you could crack some files for me.”

Tim takes it and nods. “I’ll check it out. I’ll send the results to you as soon as I have them. Anything else?”

Again… ouch. Apparently imprudent girl is welcome to kick back and hang out, but Jason is just a fellow associate that came to hand in an assignment and promptly piss off.

Then Jason realizes that that was exactly what their relationship was like before Tim went around the world to fight Ra’s al Ghul. Damn.

Well. It’s not like he can take off his helmet and stick around when there is a stranger in there, especially when Tim carefully introduced him as the Red Hood instead of good ol’ Jason Todd. He just wanted to check on the kid and he did. No need to get all clingy. That’s Dick’s thing, not his.

It isn’t until much later that Jason realizes how pointless the visit was. He wanted to see if the kid was okay. He suspected he wasn’t, but it wasn’t like he had any idea of what to do about it.

Lucky for him, Tim looked a lot better than last time. Less dead eyed, more like he has some sort of purpose. The fact that Dick is included in his little photo collection must mean they made amends. Whether it was because Jason’s whooping Dick’s ass or in spite of it he’ll never know. Based on what he knows about Tim, the kid might have just worked everything out by himself and forgiven Dick on his own terms.

Despite his decision to take care of Tim from then on, Jason is definitely not great at it. He doesn't think he lost the rights to admonish Dick for not talking to his brother. The fact is Jason isn't great with words. He wants to help Tim through actions.

Still the question remains: how?

(And Tim emails him the files he needed 8 hours later and Jason worries that the kid didn’t sleep, which… great. This is just great.)

Less than two nights later, someone gets into Jason's frequency. He's about to head out for patrol when a creaking sound inside his helmet precedes a familiar voice slightly twisted by static.

"Red Hood, this is Red Robin. Do you copy?"

Right. He goes by Red Robin now.

"What you want, rep… kid?" Jason inwardly winces at his misstep.

There is a moment of confused silence before Tim mercifully decides not to ask what that was. "I'm pursuing a lead in your territory."

Jason hums. "What's it? I'll handle it."

"No!" Tim says too fast. "I mean… it's my case. I just thought you could take the night off? Please?"

This is supposed to be the smart Robin, right? He does know that Jason isn’t a complete moron, right?

“What’s in it for me?” Jason asks.

If this was Damian, he’d get a colorful death threat. If this was Dick, a winded speech on how brothers are supposed to have each other’s backs and he's just asking for a tiny favor, Jason, don’t make me make my ex-girlfriend hack into your phone and block Netflix again. Tim, however, knows that everything has a price and has an answer ready.

“You owe me for those files I decoded for you.”

Straight to the point. No bullshit. Jason is starting to really like this kid.

“Fair enough. You go follow your lead and I won’t murder you for being in my territory.”

“Always a pleasure doing business with you, Hood.”

Jason didn’t say anything about taking the night off, though.

Jason knows that, if he was working alone, Tim wouldn’t ask for permission. He would let himself in and out of Jason's territory assuming Jason wouldn’t even notice - he’d done it before as Robin, and Jason did notice but pretended not to. He can’t track Red Robin as easily, but the fact that he doesn’t want Red Hood around means there is something or someone he can’t control tagging along… and who’s the one person even Tim Drake can never control?

“Brat girl,” Jason mutters to himself, a cocky grin spreading on his face. One of his informants just confirmed he saw Batgirl driving whatever the fuck that is that capsule vehicle into an empty building just south of Jason’s place.

Oracle is probably out of town again, otherwise she wouldn’t allow her precious not-daughter to be messing around with Tim in Jason’s territory. But then, if most of the rumors are correct, even Barbara can’t quite control the new Batgirl.

He wonders what the duo are up to as he lets himself into the abandoned place through a hole in the ceiling. Red Hood walks on the rafters in the dark until he can hear familiar voices. He stops on his tracks when he notices that Red Robin and Batgirl aren’t alone. Wonder Girl and Impulse stick out like bright red sore thumbs against Gotham’s darkness.

Red Hood hears enough to know they’re planning on saving someone - one of Impulse’s friends? - from a local group connected to Black Mask. Their plan is solid, but it’s hardly a task herculean enough to warrant the presence of a speedster and an amazon. Red Robin makes it sound like it’s absolutely necessary nonetheless, assigning each of them a role that fits their powers and going over every little detail. It’s the first time Hood sees the kid in a position of leadership and he thinks it suits him. He seems extremely at ease.

Actually… that’s not quite it. He’s not as wary of the world as he is when he’s with the Batfamily. Not Batman’s perfect mini-detective, not Nightwing’s model little brother, not WE CEO. He’s still very much a hero, a Robin, but it’s possible to see he’s seventeen under the cowl. Even his posture changes, his shoulders relax and he allows himself to be… God, himself. That must be the first time Jason sees Tim completely in his element, no tension, no (metaphorical) masks.

Real Red Robin stays close to his friends. Very close. Hell, Impulse is almost sitting on his lap, his arm firmly wrapped around Red Robin’s waist as he points at some sort of map his wrist pad is showing. Batgirl is clinging to his other side, her chin resting on his shoulder using the excuse to see better what he’s showing. Hadn’t those two broken up?

Then Red Robin says something so softly not even Hood picks up. The other three teens get tense. Impulse nods and disappears in a gust of wind as his friends wait in silence.

Half a second later, something hits Hood’s back at a very alarming speed because of course Red Robin noticed someone listening and sent his speedster friend to get him. He curses while he falls, barely managing to roll fast enough to avoid serious knee damage when he lands.

“Jason!” Red Robin whines not unlike an embarrassed child crying out mom, not in front of my friends!

“Maybe check who’s spying on you before sending a child bullet careening into their back, will ya?” Jason complains.

Wonder Girl frowns. “Is that…”

“The Red Hood,” Batgirl confirms in a flat voice. “Yup.”

“Isn’t he a criminal?” Impulse asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.

A facepalming Red Robin groans. “He doesn’t do crime anymore.” Under Batgirl’s skeptical glare, he corrects, “He doesn’t do bad crimes anymore. What are you doing here, Hood? You said you were taking the night off!”

“I said I wouldn’t shoot you for being in my territory,” Hood corrects. “But I didn’t say anything about your super friends, because I didn’t think you’d be breaking so many rules in so little time. Really? Bringing metas to Gotham?”

Red Robin simply shrugs. “What Batman can’t see doesn’t hurt him.”

Batgirl snickers and Hood grins a little under his helmet.

“Little Timmy,” he gasps, resting his hand on his chest in mock shock.

“Shut up, why are you here?”

“What, you can’t tell me there is a case and expect me not to follow up.”

The other three kids look from Red Hood to Red Robin. It’s obvious that whatever Tim’s verdict is, they’re going to accept it. Even Stephanie. And she knows Jason (sort of).

“Fine,” Red Robin groans. “But no shooting anyone.”

“No promises.”

Wonder Girl and Impulse are obviously wondering whether they’re joking or not. Knowing they’re completely serious, Batgirl makes a face and pokes Red Robin’s cheek. He frowns at her and the two of them seem to have a conversation consisting of weird mouths and head shakes for a moment. Jason would know. He and Dick used to do that all the time. Finally, whatever face Red Robin is making convinces her and she lets out a defeated sigh.

“Well then, ladies,” Batgirl deadpans, “let’s get this bread.”

Despite Dick’s best efforts, Jason never quite fit in with the Titans. With Tim and Stephanie, however, he can work.

Breaking into one of Black Mask’s hideouts is a piece of cake, if not outright fun. He has to hand it to Stephanie. She is not as cunning as Barbara or as deadly as Cassandra, but the girl can blow up a marijuana deposit like no one else.

Sure, the smoke makes them at least 30% high—all of them except Impulse, whose metabolism won’t let him get intoxicated, to which… Just R.I.P. you funky little man, Jason really feels for him.

Even with the little diversion, there were still plenty of crooks to fight. Wonder Girl takes care of most of them on her own— amazons, man —and soon enough Impulse comes running, carrying a dark-skinned boy wearing power-dampening cuffs who keeps yelling at them in Spanish. At that, Red Robin announces they’re retreating.

Tim looks a lot more comfortable with his peers than he is with the Bats. Part of Jason wonders if he could’ve been like that. If he would have ended up differently if he had actually stayed with the Titans and made friends like Tim had. He tells himself not to go down that path, because he is who he is, he certainly doesn’t make friends in that teen sitcom way and you can’t change the past.

He is genuinely glad that Tim has those friends, though. He’s glad that he can feel that way despite the hint of jealousy.

As they leave a ruined hideout behind, Wonder Girl and Impulse are drowning Red Robin in hugs and cheering so loud one would forget they’re still in Gotham. Their friend laughs with them even with the stress of being so rambunctiously rescued. Batgirl slaps her arm around Hood’s shoulder and admires the Titans being loud as if congratulating themselves on the job done.

If all of them— all of them—are still smiling themselves silly as they leave, it’s only 50% because of the marijuana.

Jason quickly learns that Tim doesn’t like owing people. When Jason asked Tim to crack some encrypted documents, he just needed the damn files. He didn’t expect the kid to show up to tear down the place when Jason decided he had enough reason to dismantle the operation.

“What, you can’t tell me there is a case and expect me not to follow up,” Red Robin quips as he nudges a goon with his foot. The man groans, but doesn’t get up. Seemingly satisfied, Red Robin crouches down and starts cuffing the man to another by his side.

“Remind me to never ask for your help again,” Red Hood says.

Red Robin glowers. “I saved your ass from getting stabbed about three times.”

“I shot the kneecaps of four guys trying to murder you, so don’t expect me to thank you.”

They hear sirens. Red Robin stands. “Well, guess our job here is done.”

Hood nods. It’s been a while since he fought side by side with a fellow Bat, just him and another Robin and... it was nice. Roy and Kori are great partners and all, but they don’t have the same training a Robin does. They don’t get the specific maneuvers and the subtle secret signs. The fact that it had been so fun fighting side by side with Red Robin makes Jason feel like his not-plan of taking care of the kid was finally going somewhere.

Then Red Robin stretches his arm to grapple his way out of there and gasps.

“Red?”

“Uh…” He is now pressing his hand to his side.

“Is… is that blood?”

“Uhhhh…”

“Did you get stabbed and didn’t notice, you freaking idiot?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groans, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes over the cowl. “Why me?”

Red Hood sighs. “Relax, kid, it doesn’t look that deep.”

“I’m gonna have to call Batman,” Red Robin whines. “A’s gonna kill me.”

“Over a tiny stab wound? Don’t be a pussy, I’m sure you can stitch that yourself.”

“The stitches aren’t the problem, it’s just the medicine…” Red Robin says, making vague hand gestures. “I have no spleen.”

And then there’s that.

“I’m sorry. You what?”

Red Robin pulls a guilty face visible even under the cowl. Jason wouldn’t blame Alfred for killing him. He has no spleen and he just… decided it was a good idea to bring a staff to a gunfight at one of the grimiest places of Gotham.

Tim Drake-Wayne, everyone, smartest Robin to date.

Jason, however, decides not to kill Tim for his stupidity. He recognizes that particular frown. It’s the I-messed-up-and-I-don’t-want-dad-to-find-out face.

The GCPD sirens are getting closer.

“I’ve got a big collection of antibiotics back at one of my safehouses,” he mentions casually. “I could patch you up so A doesn’t have to.”

Tim’s wide eyes are evident. Jason wonders if this is him being able to read the kid too well or if Tim straight up sucks at hiding his emotions. It’s probably a bit of both.

“You know. As thanks for helping me.”

“I thought you wouldn’t thank me.”

“Don’t push it, kid.”

By now, they can see the red and blue police lights.

“Lead the way.”

He rolls his eyes and drags the kid to his bike. He really hopes the pigs didn’t see them, because it’s bad enough that a hero showed up to Red Hood’s bust, he doesn’t need any cops thinking that he kidnapped Red Robin or any shit like that.

“Are we going to the one behind the new theater or the one around crime alley?” Tim casually asks.

Jason freezes halfway through mounting his bike. “How the fuck do you know about those?”

“I know the location of all of your safehouses,” Tim admits.

“Batman knows about my safehouses?”

Tim quirks an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, I’m not Batman.”

...oh.

That’s… nice. Kind of. A confirmation that he can trust the kid to have his back.

“Smug nerd,” Jason mumbles.

Tim only chuckles in response. They set off to Jason’s place.

The rest of the night is peaceful. At least for a Bat’s standards. Jason helps Tim disinfect his wound and stitch it closed while Tim raids Jason’s medicine stash until he finds the ones he needs. Jason promises to hook him up with his supplier so he doesn’t have to rely so much on the cave. By the time they’re done, Tim’s lips are permanently curled upwards.

When he starts shuffling awkwardly as if looking for a way to say goodbye, Jason nonchalantly announces where he can find clean towels and clothes, as if this is a thing they do everyday. Tim seems baffled, but thankfully he doesn’t call Jason’s bullshit and obediently heads to the bathroom. By the time he’s done, Jason is fixing a meal for the two of them and some stupid movie is on TV—never the news, god, Jason hates watching the news.

Like a skittish stray, Tim is unsure of what to do with himself at first, but he catches the cue fast enough. He sits on the couch all stiff and restless until something on the screen grabs his attention.

“You like Wendy the Werewolf Stalker?” Tim asks, eyes wide.

“Do I like fucking what?”

Jason just needed the background noise to avoid freaking out about how weird he’s being right now. Apparently, that was the wrong answer. Tim launches a rant on how amazing Wendy is and half of it goes over Jason’s head. He just gets that apparently Tim and Superboy both have a crush on this werewolf hunting chick and they used to spend hours watching her instead of doing actual work at Titans Tower.

He also manages to actually eat the food Jason made, which is a win in Jason’s book.

It’s a nice night, overall.

It becomes, not a habit, but a thing. Tim sometimes shows up to one of Jason’s safehouses needing a stitch job or medicine. Jason doesn’t know how he nails which one Jason is at currently or if he just goes to every single one still bleeding until he finds Jason. Or even if he just lets himself in and takes care of his wounds without any help. If so, Jason wouldn’t blame him. He’d choose his crappy hideouts over Tim’s soulless apartment any day.

On the third time it happens, Tim isn’t hurt at all. He just wants to bitch about Vicki Vale stalking him and his supposed ex-fiancée that he's actually trying to date. Jason feeds him real food, as usual, and listens to what he has to say, as unusual. They end up on the couch watching A Nightmare on Elm Street, which, oddly enough, has Tim getting overly enthusiastic about going to bed because he’s curious about the magic behind Freddy Krueger. Jason tells him to let him know if any dream demons show up when he leaves Tim dozing off on the couch.

Tim starts texting Jason. At first, it’s all very professional. Messages like 1 of the stupid crooks in your territory almost killed robin yesterday do smth abt it followed by I don’t care that he’s a demon in a kevlar vest Hood you didn’t have to deal with nightwing crying afterwards!!! Then they slowly shift into something more casual on the lines of is dis u? An d attached a picture of Elizabeth Bennet wearing the red Power Ranger helmet which… What sort of context led to that meme being created?

Jason pretends not to care, but he preens with pride when Tim laughs at his dark jokes. Stupid gallows humor that would have made Bruce call an expensive therapist and Dick squirm in discomfort have the kid snorting coffee out of his nose.

It’s like they’re friends.

Part of him sometimes toys with the idea of them being normal kids —or as normal as you can be in Gotham—and he realizes that he would’ve made friends with Tim so fucking fast. Dick is the golden child and all of them would end up worshiping him and respecting him as their older brother, of course. Tim would be added to their family and Jason, not-murdered, regular problem-child Jason, would resist him at first, but he would soon see that he wasn't just an annoying nerd. He was a fun, annoying nerd. They would gang up on Dick, as younger brothers ought to do, and Jason would protect Tim from bullies and Tim would use his good son credit to get Jason out of trouble with Bruce.

This, however, may be as good as it gets for people with their fucked up upbringing. Jason already knew Tim wasn’t your regular spoiled rich boy and they bond over having shit childhoods even if they don’t talk about it.

All in all it feels nice to be looked up to. To have the kid come to him when he’s in trouble. To have someone looking at him with a shine in his eyes like the one Jason has when he looks at Dick. It makes Jason feel like he’s worth something. He sees Tim get comfortable with him after weeks of acting like a stray cat and he knows the kid feels the same. It’s a new feeling for both of them.

It’s like they’re really brothers.

Being part of the Red Robin fan club, Jason finds out, gives him good credit with the Bats.

Bruce and Dick are always going to be concerned about Jason’s slightly loose moral compass. Gremlin is always going to hate him because he’s a Gremlin. Barbara tolerates him at best.

Stephanie, however, shows up unannounced to one of Red Hood’s busts and laughs it off when he complains about Batgirl ruining his rep. She then invites Jason to watch a movie with her since they finished early. He thinks that’d be very weird, so he refuses. Unbothered, she says an airy “Maybe next time” before leaving.

He thinks a shadow once told him to come by the manor more often, almost giving him a heart attack. He thought Cassandra was in Hong Kong, for fuck’s sake; when did she come back?

One time he texts Tim for tech support and no one but the Signal shows up at Jason’s doorstep with a codebreaker and a list of instructions from Red Robin. Duke doesn’t look as wary of Jason as he once was and the two quickly fall into friendly banter, complaining about Tim’s nerdiness.

Jason knows if he asked Steph about it, he would never hear the end of it. Cass isn’t the easiest person to hold a conversation with. He guesses Duke is decent enough not to dwell on it, so he asks,

“Why are y’all suddenly okay with me?”

Duke quirks an eyebrow at him. Fortunately, he’s smart enough that Jason doesn’t need to explain further. “Tim trusts you,” he says simply. “Tim is the holder of the one brain cell of this family, so long we follow his cues, we’re golden.”

Jason doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Why, you don’t want us around?”

He mumbles something about it not being a big deal. Duke shrugs it off and changes the subject. Jason knows he’s doing it for his sake, because Duke might be the kindest person in their whole messed up family. Jason feels bad for refusing to learn his name for so long.

So it seems like two-thirds of the Batgirls and Signal were always less worried about Jason’s past than they were about his rivalry with Robin III.

And, fine, Jason does get a little jealous of that but he’s mature-ish enough to take what he can get. Plus Stephanie is funny as shit and it’s always fun to annoy Barbara by getting Batgirl involved in his fights, especially when Red Robin is around to back him up.

Everything is sort of nice now.

Sometimes, however, Jason wakes up in a cold sweat with the taste of copper in his mouth and a nightmare gunshot still ringing in his ears. He tried to kill Tim. He could’ve killed his little brother. He’s thankful for the times the nightmares come when Tim is sleeping over, because he can walk to the living room and check on the kid. Remind himself that Tim is alive and breathing under the old blankets and that he’s forgiven Jason. When he isn’t around, Jason is absolutely not above calling him in the middle of the night, making up a stupid case he needs Tim’s help with. For all his smarts, Tim never seems to realize Jason’s true motives.

Now that he thinks about it, he notices that Tim is on good terms with a lot of people that tried to kill him. Jason. Damian. That Prudence girl. He doesn’t find out the details, but he does hear something about Stephanie fucking him up and she’s now his best friend. Jason is more than a little concerned about that forgiving side of his.

Red Hood hates a lot of things. If he were to make a list, it’d take days to write it all down. He knows for sure that on the top of that list would be clowns. There is nothing he hates more than clowns.

Scarecrows are a close second, though.

Definitely close to a tie as he watches Red Robin stumble. “I think…” he mutters. “I think my rebreather is broken.”

“ Shit.”

Red Hood has to think fast. Fear gas is every-fucking-where and he lost sight of Scarecrow three canon-fodder crooks ago. He doesn’t have an extra rebreather, because he’s wearing his helmet and that does the job. He’s used to fighting alone. Not that having another rebreather would do them any good now that Red Robin has already breathed the nasty toxins.

In the end, Hood decides to take the defeat for what it is: a defeat. He throws a smoke bomb on the ground and grabs Red Robin by the waist, ignoring the startled squeak the boy lets out. They need to get out before Scarecrow’s goons realize what they’re doing.

“Stay with me,” Red Hood hisses. “Whatever you’re hearing or seeing, it’s not real.”

They’re five minutes away from his nearest safehouse. It’d be faster to take one of their bikes, but he can’t risk it in case Tim starts hallucinating halfway there. They can make it there swinging, he can keep his brother out of danger.

“I’m fine,” Red Robin says. The way he’s limp in Hood’s hold, says otherwise. “We’re going home. We’re safe.”

“We’re going home. Close your eyes. Focus on my voice.”

He does it.

“It’s just us now,” Hood reassures him. “We’re on the way to a safehouse where no one can find us and you can rest until the toxin is out of your system. Safe, easy.”

“Steph is fine, Bart is fine, Cassie is fine,” he chants, “Cass is fine, Alfred is fine, Dick is fine, Tam is fine, Pru is fine.”

He keeps listing people that are fine, because of course his fears are all about his friends being hurt. Surprisingly, Hood recognizes all of them. He’s heard Tim talking about all of them repeatedly and he knows their names and personalities, even if he doesn’t have all the faces to match. He isn’t surprised that his friends come first then their family.

“That’s right, kiddo,” Jason encourages. “Who else?”

“Dad..” Tim’s eyes shoot open. “Dad’s gonna kill me. Dad, Dad will know I’m Robin, he’s- He’s gonna take Robin away from me, I can’t- This is the first time I’m being useful.”

Fuck.

“Your dad isn’t here. And you’re not Robin, kid, you’re Red Robin,” Jason reminds him.

“That’s… that’s right. I failed him. I failed Dick, so…”

Double fuck.

“That’s bullshit,” Jason says, but it’s hard to keep the conversation going while he’s carrying Tim’s weight.

They’re two minutes away from safety before Tim starts struggling to get away from Jason. He doesn’t say anything else, which may be more concerning, he just grunts with the effort and squirms. Jason really hopes no one was paying attention enough to notice what looks like Red Hood kidnapping a terrified Red Robin.

“Shit- Stay put, Red, we’re almost home,” Jason says.

Tim’s breath catches and returns, erratic, and Jason can’t bear to look at his horrified face, he hates to see the utter fear that has his brother’s already pale complexion turn ashen, his lips pressed into a line so tight it has got to hurt. Jason starts listing the names of the people that are supposedly fine and that catches Tim’s attention long enough that Jason can swing straight to the fire escape of the abandoned building where he set his hideout.

He sets Tim on the dusty mattress on the corner in a hurry and tosses his helmet aside. He starts undoing Tim’s safety measures so he can remove his cowl. Unlike Jason, he doesn’t wear a domino mask beneath it and Jason makes a mental note of talking to Tim about that later.

“Almost there, Timbers,” Jason says. He rips off his own domino without caring about the sting, hoping a familiar face will help. “I’m here. Now, where do you keep your fear gas antidote? I know you carry some around.”

Tim unconsciously reaches for a particular capsule on his bandolier. That’s enough of an answer for Jason, who pushes his hand away not as gently as he should and reaches for the small vial inside.

“Jay,” Tim whines. “Jay, you’re okay, right?”

Jason blinks, confused. “Of course I’m okay, Timbers. I’m right here.”

And as he rushes to grab the first aid kit under the sink, Jason starts to freak out. This gas isn’t causing hallucinations as much as it’s making Tim feel paranoid, it seems. What if it’s a new formula? What if the antidote doesn’t work? What if Tim keeps having anxious thought after anxious thought, until his heart gives in and-

“Jay!” Tim calls, desperate. “Jay, we have to get Kon! He’s- He’s in danger.” He starts getting up.

“Nope!” Jason pushes him right back into the mattress. “Kon is fine, he’s invulnerable, remember? He’s probably doing superdouche stuff in Metropolis.”

“He’s not, he’s- He’s gonna kill himself, Jay!” There are tears welling up in his eyes and Jason feels like someone just punched him in the gut. After all the shit they went through, he had never seen Tim cry. “He’s gonna sacrifice himself to save everyone, I can’t lose him, please, I’ll do it instead. He’s- No! Please, don’t do it!”

There we go. There are the hallucinations they all know and hate. Tim stretches out his hand as if he’s reaching for an invisible Superboy, so Jason takes the opportunity to start rolling up his sleeve and cleaning the inside of his elbow. Lucky for him, he always has a sanitized syringe. Now he just needs Tim to stay still.

What if it doesn’t work? What if I make it worse?

“Kon El, no,” Tim gasps. “KON EL! CONNER!”

Jason had never seen Impulse going full speed. But he did meet Barry Allen back when he was Robin and he never forgot the deafening noise of someone breaking the barrier of sound. More familiar is the noise of his freaking wall exploding. Before Jason realizes, he’s being ripped away from his screaming brother. He hacks and struggles, but there isn’t a lot he can do when a kryptonian steel arm presses against his throat, effectively pinning him to the wall.

“Give me one reason not to kill you,” Superboy growls, his eyes already glowing red.

Jason would be impressed with the boy’s ability to look murderous if he wasn’t about to have his head melted. He struggles a little more. Superboy doesn’t even seem to notice. Jason then pathetically raises the syringe in his hand and manages to choke out:

“A-antidote.”

Superboy blinks once. His eyes return to the regular shade of blue. He blinks twice. His expression shows only confusion when he releases Jason, that promptly falls on his knees. Jason coughs, touching his throat as if to make sure it’s still intact. Damn clone.

“What happened to him?” Superboy demands.

Tim isn’t trying to get up anymore, but rather convulsing on the same spot, screaming wordlessly in horror, tears streaming freely down his pale cheeks.

Jason coughs some more before he’s able to say something. “A-ask that first next time, will you? It’s… it’s fear gas.”

“And, what, am I supposed to believe you were helping him?” Superboy snarls.

Jason groans. He doesn’t have time for this. Tim has his eyes firmly shut and every scream, every time his voice breaks, it feels like someone is slashing at Jason’s chest, robbing him of air almost as effectively as Superboy did.

“I was about to do that before you interrupted,” Jason shows him the syringe again. “What do you think?”

Superboy squints at him, unhappy with his response.

“We don’t have time for that,” Jason snarls. “At this point, he’s gonna have a heart attack. I need you to hold him still.”

Superboy bites his lip in hesitation but Tim screams his name again and he winces as if the sound is kryptonite for his ears. Finally, he nods and crouches down by the mattress.

“It’s okay, Rob,” he says. “I’m here now. I’ve got you.”

At that, Tim miraculously relaxes for a second. Jason kneels by his side again and holds the outstretched arm Superboy is keeping still.

“Don’t hurt him,” Jason warns. Judging by the look Superboy gives him, the only reason he’s not getting the laser eye treatment is because he’s the only one around capable of helping Tim.

“No,” Tim whines. “Not Jason…”

Jason freezes. Superboy’s eyes start to glow again.

“Not Jason, not again,” Tim continues, delirious, his expression twisting in pain. “Please, please, don’t, help him, HELP HIM!”

Jason stabs the needle into his pale skin and it’s a miracle that he does it right, because he is shaking. Fuck this. Fuck Scarecrow. It’s wrong, it’s horrible to hear Red Robin begging like that. He hates the way the kid startles with the needle. He’s thankful that Superboy makes sure Tim stays put, because he doesn’t think his trembling hands could do that now.

“It’s okay, Timbers,” Jason hears himself saying, “it’s over now.”

“Please,” Tim sobs again, “I- I’m gonna solve this.”

God. Jason grabs his hand. “You did enough, baby bird. You solved enough already.”

Tim whimpers, but finally starts relaxing. It seems like the antidote is working its magic and the boy falls right asleep.

Superboy refuses to leave, much to Jason’s chagrin. It doesn’t surprise him, though. Conner is Tim’s favorite conversation subject when he’s in a good mood and apparently the clone is ready to just fly to Gotham if he hears Tim’s voice.

“You know, metas aren’t allowed here,” Jason reminds him.

Superboy has been stomping back and forth around Tim’s mattress. He's so angry that Jason is worried he’ll break the floor any minute now, but he stops to give Jason the biggest, meanest glower of the night. He doesn’t look anything like the mental picture Tim painted of him. Even with his ripped skinny jeans and 90’s leather jacket and dumb earrings, Superboy looks absolutely murderous.

“I’m not going anywhere until I see that Tim’s fine,” he says.

Jason sighs.

“Why are we here?” Superboy snaps. “Why didn’t you call Alfred or… or Batman or…”

“Because we don’t do that,” Jason cuts him. “Red Robin is not Batman's sidekick. If we can solve shit without involving Batman, we don’t involve Batman.”

It’s their unspoken rule, Jason knows that since the first time they fought side by side - the first time they had a sleepover - and he brought Tim home to patch him up. They don’t call dad or their older bro if they’re in trouble, because that’ll lead to them being in more trouble. They simply watch out for each other as much as they can.

Superboy isn’t happy with that explanation, but, before he can murder Jason for real, Tim stirs.

Jason and Superboy are kneeling by his side at the same time, which says something, since Jason doesn't have superspeed.

“Timbers?” Jason calls.

“Jay…?” Tim mumbles and his voice is still a little raw from all the screaming. He blinks and his eyes set on his best friend. “Conner? What are you doing here?”

“You called,” Superboy says simply. “I told you all you had to do was call my name.”

“How’s the head?” Jason asks. “You're still smart, right? You can’t afford to lose your brain cells, Timbers, with your ugly face they’re all you have.”

Tim snorts. Then groans. “Fuck off, Jason, don’t make me laugh.”

Jason smiles at him and he doesn’t notice the weird look Superboy is giving them.

“Rob? Do you remember what happened?”

Tim starts to sit up and Superboy is faster than Jason in wrapping an arm around his shoulders to steady him. He helps Tim rest his back against the wall and the grateful look Tim gives him makes Jason frown a bit because he feels there is something there he’s missing.

“Hmmm… We were fighting Scarecrow,” Tim says. “Fear gas, broken rebreather...” He looks at Jason as if seeking for confirmation. When Jason nods, he continues, “Jay got me out of there and the rest is… Wait. Where is Scarecrow? Did he escape?”

“That should be the last of your worries, Timothy, you almost died of fear,” Superboy scolds.

Tim sighs. “Oh, to be a young vigilante in the XXI century… passing away of fright.”

Superboy doesn’t get it, judging by his expression, but Jason does and he laughs out loud. He doesn’t miss the way Tim’s lip quirk up.

“See, baby bird, this is why I wear a helmet and so should you,” Jason says.

“Okay, but have you considered that we’d look stupid if we were all the man in the iron mask?”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “God forbid a whole family fighting criminals in leather fursuits look stupid. We wouldn’t fucking want that.”

Tim laughs, even if his voice is still a little hoarse, and Jason is relieved.

He is so relieved to see his brother fine that he doesn’t pay attention to the fact that Superboy still has his arm around Tim’s shoulders. That Superboy’s eyes get all soft when Tim laughs. That Superboy looks a little hurt when he offers to fly Tim home, but Tim refuses, saying that he’d rather spend the rest of the night here.

“I mean, if that’s fine…?” He glances at Jason, reminding him of those first sleepovers, when he was still unsure whether he’d be welcome or not.

Jason is so done feeling or letting his brother feel like an outsider. “The mattress is big enough for both of us, I don’t see why you’d go back to your own apartment when you can just sleep on a perfectly good mattress on the floor.”

“Hm. Cool then,” Superboy says, but instead of flying out through the giant hole he made on the wall, he shifts his weight from one foot to another awkwardly, clearly stalling.

Both brothers notice it. Neither has a problem interpreting Superboy’s fidgeting. Jason finds it annoying, but Tim gives him a pleading look. Jason sighs.

“You can stay too, big guy, but you gonna have to sleep on the floor.”

Superboy’s face lights up and he definitely doesn’t look like he wanted to melt Jason’s head just a couple of minutes ago. He rambles that it’s all good, he just needs to text Ma Kent to let her know where he is and he’s used to sleeping on the floor of the barn with Krypto and the cows (Jason would find that more upsetting if he didn’t know there is a cow somewhere in the Wayne manor too and Damian sleeps in the cave with it all the time).

In the end, Tim bullies Jason into giving Superboy the thickest blanket he has around. He tries suggesting he should sleep in the blanket and let Jason and Superboy share the mattress, but shuts up mid sentence under their glares.

It’s probably the most awkward sleepover so far, but Tim grins at Jason, grateful, and turns his back to him to be able to talk to Superboy in hushed whispers.

Jason tunes out their conversation and focuses on the fact that he did it. He saved Tim. It doesn’t make up for the times he fucked up in the past, but it sure makes him feel better about the present. He’s also thankful that Tim stayed instead of going to his own place. Hearing your little brother scream in fear for your life isn’t something enjoyable and Jason is sure he would have nightmares about if it wasn’t for the fact that Tim was laying right there in front of him. It’s the sound of his brother’s muffled laughter, mixed with Superboy’s, that lulls him to sleep.

Jason should have noticed then. But he didn’t.

For an intelligent guy, Jason can be really stupid sometimes.

The thing is… Jason is smart. He’s not Tim Drake smart, but he’s still a good detective. He’s also fairly sociable. Or at least he used to be, before he, you know, died and went through all the trauma, etc. He is no Dick Grayson, but he can hold a good conversation, pick up the right social cues, all that crap.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t mess up sometimes.

You see, months go by. Red Hood and Red Robin don’t often go on the field together, after all it’d do a number to both of their reputations, but, when they do, one of them always ends up injured and the other carries him home. It’s like a curse, the universe telling them to stick to their off-patrol partnership. Then a couple of weeks go by and they miss the feeling of fighting side-by-side and there they go again.

Tim keeps showing up at Jason’s place whenever he feels like it and he even hangs around Jason’s visiting friends sometimes. Kori adores Tim from the first time she puts her eyes on him. Roy takes a little longer to warm up, but even he can’t resist the kid. Jason likes it. He likes having his brother around. He likes that they get on like a house on fire.

So much he forgets Tim is a master of hiding shit.

On the week nearing Tim’s 19th birthday, Jason goes to his apartment. He doesn’t realize until he’s halfway there that he hadn’t been to Tim’s place since the night he met Prudence, which is odd, because it’d been basically a year and a half. Still, Tim goes over to Jason’s place all the time. The fact that Jason doesn’t repay the favor has everything to do with the fact that Jason hates Tim’s magazine apartment and nothing else.

Right?

Instead of going for the door, Jason uses his signature move and just swings to the balcony. The door is unlocked - Jason really has to have a talk with Tim about security, they’re in Gotham, for fuck’s sake - and he lets himself in.

To Tim’s credit, the place looks more well lived in now. There are mismatched pillows on the couch, a forgotten mug and a couple of books on the coffee table. Jason recognizes his copy of The Count of Monte Cristo and makes an annoyed sound noticing Tim’s bookmarker is still somewhere in the middle of the book even if it’s been weeks since Jason let him borrow it.

“Tim?” Jason calls. It’s half past nine, a little early for vigilante standards, but…

He hears the sound of someone sputtering and coughing from the kitchen. There he is.

Jason heads there and finds Tim desperately grabbing paper towels to clean coffee he apparently just spilled on his bare chest.

“J-Jason!”

“Jumpy aren’t we?” Jason comments. “What’s up, baby bird?”

It’s clear that Tim had just woken up, judging by his messy hair and the fact that he’s wearing nothing but red sweatpants with Superman’s symbol all over. His mildly terrified expression is weird, though. Tim is usually slow in the morning, but not that easy to startle.

“What are you doing here?” Tim whispers, clearly panicking.

The fact that Jason never visits Tim’s place suddenly comes to his mind. The possibility of him not being welcome hits him and it’s surprisingly painful. He thought they were doing well, that the kid liked him. All this time, was he being arrogant?

As his brain scrambles for something to say, something to think, he notices a sound that he hadn’t registered before: the shower.

Suddenly Tim’s rapidly reddening cheeks and doe wide eyes gain a new meaning. Jason forgets the hurt and a sly smile stretches on his face.

“Oh my god. Oh god, this is priceless. Baby bird, do you have a lady guest from last night?”

Tim makes a weird choking sound and this is too good, Jason is too delighted, look at little Timmy go, already getting it. (Jason would’ve chosen different pants for the morning after, but alas.)

Then a voice calls out: “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

A male voice.

Tim’s face becomes three shades darker, now perfectly matching his pants. Jason’s grin is now frozen on his face, his eyes wide with the realization.

The shower stops.

“Tim?” The voice calls again.

“I’m fine, Kon!” Tim responds and his voice is surprisingly even, considering he looks like he’s having an aneurysm.

That’s a bat for you. Master of hiding their emotions.

Sort of.

Kon, Tim said. Jason realizes that Tim isn’t wearing Superman merch. The sweatpants are Superboy themed.

Jason still remembers Superboy’s protective streak all those months ago and the fact that he woke up to the two of them holding hands - at the time, he thought nothing of it, because it had been a stressful night and he didn’t blame either boy for wanting to make sure the other was okay - and he thinks of all the subsequent times Tim went on and on about Conner and how a couple of weeks ago Tim just stopped mentioning Conner altogether.

God, Jason is the worst detective ever.

Tim pushes Jason out of the kitchen and towards the living room, presumably farther from the bathroom where his boyfriend with super hearing was showering.

“Fuck,” Tim mutters, “ fuckfuckfuck… ”

And he looks and sounds so distraught that Jason loses all the eagerness to tease him, concern quickly replacing any initial surprise he might have been feeling.

“Look,” Tim murmurs, looking anywhere but at Jason’s eyes, “it’s not… we’re just…”

Tim scrambles for words and this is so unlike him - Tim always has a plan, always knows what to say - it takes a moment for Jason to catch up on why he’s a stuttering mess. Jason had been so excited to find out his little brother had a boyfriend he forgot he lived in a world where homophobia was a thing.

“Timbers, chill out.” Jason grabs Tim’s hands from where they’re still resting on his shoulders. “It’s just me.”

Tim dares raise his gaze to meet Jason’s and it hurts a bit to see still a little fear in his blue eyes. Jason gives him an encouraging grin.

“I can’t believe you officially bagged a kryptonian. Way to go, kid.”

His shoulders slouch in utter relief right before he starts blushing again. What a cute kid.

“You keep calling me kid. You’re not that older. And don’t say it like that,” Tim mumbles.

“Like what? Like you’re snogging Superboy?” Tim punches him on the shoulder and Jason laughs. “Now I know why you were in such a hurry to leave the manor, you wanted your own place to bring your boyfriend over…”

“That’s not why I left and who said anything about a boyfriend? Maybe this was just a one night stand.”

Jason gives him a condescending look. “Timbers, I might have not realized you’re gay, but I do know you. You’re a boyfriend kinda guy.”

Tim rolls his eyes and mumbles something about assuming shit. “I’m bi,” he says.

“Cool,” Jason says, a shit-eating grin never leaving his face.

“Fuck,” Tim groans and lets himself fall on the couch. “How do you de-escalate an emotional situation so fast?”

“It’s a Bat thing, and you know how to do it too. All of us are trained to avoid emotions like the plague.”

“I was not prepared to come out when I got up this morning,” Tim admits.

Humming, Jason finally realizes that Tim doesn’t want to skip the emotions for this one. He sighs. The things he does for his brothers.

“It’s not a big deal, though,” he says. “I mean, you’re happy right?”

“I’m never happy.”

“Don’t quote Zuko. You started the real talk. You don’t get to bat your way out of it now.”

A sigh. “I’m happy. Conner is… the best.”

Jason nods. “Then it’s all good. I’m sure all the others would say the same.”

“You can't tell them!” Tim snaps, his eyes suddenly wide with panic again. “Seriously, Jay, you can’t-”

“Calm down, kid,” Jason cuts him off. “When did I make a habit of spilling your secrets to the B-man? It's none of their business.” Tim visibly relaxes and Jason adds: “Actually… Want me to make your house Dick-proof?”

“...what?”

“I mean, not kryptonian dick, you’re clearly into that,” and he ignores it when Tim pops him on the back of the head. “I mean Dick Dick, our brother. I could set up a better security system so you don’t have to worry about one of your siblings walking into something scarring, especially the clingy one.”

“No security system can stop Dick’s clinginess.”

“How do you think I keep him off my place?”

That’s when their little pow wow gets interrupted by more kryptonian skin than Jason ever wanted to see as Conner walks in with nothing but the smallest of the towels wrapped around his waist.

“Babe, what is--” He notices Jason and slips on literally nothing, barely catching himself before falling on his ass. “ Shit- I mean, nothing, I mean, we were just binging Wendy!”

Jason doesn’t say anything, but he does give Tim a look that says it all. He wasn't judging earlier, but he is now. Tim gives him a look that definitely means shut up.

In the end, Jason stays for breakfast.

It’s only mildly awkward, because he and Tim fill the silence talking about the latest case Jason’s working on while Conner makes them pancakes. Judging by the fact that he’s getting the ingredients from a bunch of plastic bags, he must have brought all the food with him. If anything, Jason is grateful that he and Alfred are no longer the only people trying to get Tim to eat actual food.

When Tim turns to Conner for his opinion, leaving Jason to enjoy his coffee, Jason looks around and notices that there are new pictures on the fridge. There are some of those disgustingly cute pictures of Tim and Conner, their cheeks pressed together as they make weird faces for the camera. There is a picture of Conner by himself and, again disgustingly, he is smiling at the camera as though the most precious person in the world is behind it. Both pictures are held by a sun magnet. There is a new candid shot of Cassandra, one of Alfred-Alfred holding cat Alfred, a new one of Dick and even Damian is in there.

And, his heart stops for a second, because now there are pictures of Jason as well.

They’re carefully placed far from each other, but there are three different pictures. There is one of Jason wearing his Lord of the Rings shirt, eating cereal on the couch, a confused expression on his face. He remembers when Tim took that picture, because Tim waited until Jason had his mouth full before calling hey Jay? and snapping the picture right as Jason looked at him, his cheeks like a chipmunk's. The second picture is a candid of him smiling, leaning against the rail of some safehouse balcony. The shot was carefully framed to not show anything distinct of the surroundings, just Jason and Gotham’s sky.

The third one is a selfie. In it, Jason is asleep, his lips parted and face relaxed, his head resting on Tim’s shoulder. Tim has a shit eating grin on his lips as if there is nothing funnier to him than his giant older brother falling asleep on him in the middle of movie night. Tim had the decency of drawing a mustache on Jason’s face to decrease sappiness, but that effect is ruined by the fact that the picture is held by a magnet that was clearly Iron Man but Tim had painted it red to look like Jason’s hood.

Jason had sworn off killing, at least for a little while.

But he would gladly kill again for his little brother.

As he gets ready to leave, he turns to Conner and deadpans, “I don’t have to tell you that I can and I will make kryptonite bullets, do I?”

“Jason!” Tim scolds.

“What? I’m the first of the family to find out. Least I can do is taje care of the shovel talk.”

“Stop threatening my boyfriend.”

Conner blushes profusely and mouths the word boyfriend with marvel and ugh. Just… ugh . Jason is happy that Tim is happy, but he and Conner are apparently that kind of couple and Jason wants to have none of it.

“So, first we kill Damian,” Jason starts.

“No,” Tim says.

“Aw, come on, you didn’t even consider it!”

Cassandra waits until they decide their plan of action (it’s probably going to be Tim’s) and keeps her expression carefully neutral as not to show which one of them she agrees with (Tim).

The thing, Jason realized, is that all of them have favorites in their family and knowing that makes it easier to tear them down. Dick can fuck off with his I love you all equally bullshit, because he clearly always favors Damian. Damian swings between Batdad’s little boy and Nightwing’s murder baby. Tim will easily lose focus whenever Steph is involved. Steph is oddly protective of Duke, for some reason. Cassandra is mostly neutral. She’s everyone’s favorite, including Bruce’s, but she’s also the deadliest of them all so she is no one’s weakness. She does, however, have a soft spot for Tim over any of her brothers. Since Jason became close friends with Tim, he entered Cassandra’s selective protection bubble and he’s now, by all definitions, untouchable.

Or at least that’s how he felt when she chose him for her team right after Tim.

“We kill Dick first,” Tim knocks down the little Nightwing action figure on the carpet. “Cass, you’re the only one who can take him down. Jay and I distract the others while you do the job. Damian will get personally offended by that and will grow reckless.” He knocks down the little imp figurine. “I can take care of him then. Steph will be hiding somewhere ready to strike. She is best in close range combat. Jay, I need you to take her down before she gets too close.” He pushes down the Barbie doll someone dressed as Batgirl, because apparently they couldn’t find blonde Batgirl merch and they were very offended. “Then we win.”

He may sound impressive, but the whole time he’s speaking he has his head resting on Cass’ lap and she is carding her fingers through his hair as a villain would do to their evil pet cat.

“Can’t I murder the demon brat?” Jason complains.

Tim glares at him - again, not very intimidating while he’s basically lying on his sister’s lap.

“You know Steph would wipe the floor with me. You’re the only one I can trust to get her.”

“Unless…” Jason turns around. “Du-”

“No.”

“Come on, I’ll give you ten bucks.”

“Jason, we’re all rich, you can’t buy me.” Duke doesn’t even raise his eyes from his book. “Plus last time I let y’all drag me into this shit, Steph knocked off one of my teeth with Tim’s staff.”

“If you hadn’t killed me, then she wouldn’t have taken revenge,” Tim argues.

“And yet you’re planning to kill Dick counting on the fact that Damian will try to avenge him.”

“Wet blanket,” Cassandra says.

Tim and Jason go into a giggling fit as Duke sputters, too indignant to put his thoughts into words.

In the end, Duke still doesn’t join them.

As they expected, the enemy was listening to their plan - Jason is sure Dick was against it, but Stephanie and Damian are definitely not above spying - nonetheless they still played their parts as expected: Steph and Damian tried protecting Dick first and foremost, but not even the two of them combined could take Cassandra. Not with Jason and Tim backing her up.

Cassandra knocks Dick down and sits on his back. The large yellow paint splash on his chest proves that he’s dead. Rather than being upset, Dick starts doing push ups with his sister there as the rest of his siblings and Steph fight to death.

Unfortunately, Damian wasn’t as angered by Dick’s demise as they expected and is still a good match for Tim. Until Tim gasps and goes Titus, don’t eat that! It was an obvious ploy, but still got Damian to let down his guard and whip his head around looking for his precious dog. Tim shoots him without hesitation and Damian goes on a rage soliloquy.

Jason would appreciate it if he wasn’t having such a hard time with Stephanie. Apparently Barbara has been feeding her steroids, because the girl is now as quick as a ninja. She hits Jason in the kneecaps with Tim’s staff - they’re not even in the same team this time, how the fuck did she get Tim’s staff??? - and shoots him point blank in the chest. And damn, that shit hurts. He bets it’s purple under his shirt too.

Steph is mid celebration when her victory whoop turns into a pained groan. Twin splotches of red and yellow bloom on her back as Cassandra and Tim lower their guns.

“Fuck,” Jason complains. “Couldn’t’ve done that before she killed me?”

“We win,” Cassandra says.

“Shouldn’t you be fighting to the death now?” Dick asks. Now that Cass is off his back, he’s lying on the side like one of your French girls. Jason wishes Cass would shoot him again.

“I would never betray Cass,” Tim says.

“We rule together.” She walks to him and stands on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead.

Tim grins a wicked grin because he knows he is Cassandra’s favorite and everyone can die mad about it.

Steph and Damian start shouting their complaints at the same time while Dick laughs his ass off. From his lawn chair, Duke is glaring at them as if he can’t believe he’s legally related to any of these weirdos.

His gaze meets Dick’s and his older brother looks absolutely elated with pride even though all of their siblings are yelling about paintball.

Jason simply smiles back.

#jason todd #tim drake #red hood #red robin #batfam #batfam big bang 2020 #poteto writing #red bros #collab

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mementomori-demimonde · 4 years ago

Text

Hidden Scars

I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII

Chapter 9

You still don’t know why you’re doing this, but she asked; Miranda woke up that morning, came into your room, and asked.

Willing to keep your part of the unspoken bargain, you agreed. It’s another of her tests, but it’s totally consensual: everyone’s happy. More or less.

You’re tied up to a kitchen chair, inside the vault that kept your prisoner for so long. You’re afraid that this might be doing with you making too much noise - will she get you to scream? - or with the fact that the floor has grates that lead somewhere, which are made especially to get rid of stuff and easing the task of cleaning any eventual mess.

Even if you know that the cable ties around your wrists, secured to the back of your chair, won’t buckle, you pull at them ineffectively, wincing at the dull sounds of the metallic legs squeaking against the grates as the chair jerks with your movements. Your ankles are bound too, leaving you at her mercy, only feignedly protected by your nightshirt and leggings - she’s left you barefoot, so the pattern of the grates is already printing itself on the soles of your feet.

Despite the uncomfortable position, you’re oddly relaxed with her fingers carding through your hair, readjusting them to her likes, away from your face, leaving you even more exposed.

When she seems satisfied, she walks slowly from your peripheral to occupy your whole field of vision and you can’t help feeling the thrill crawling up your spine as you take her in: the leather coat reaching her boots, black gloves of the same material, no make-up and a butterfly clip holding her hair back.

Her blue eyes, incredibly bright under the neons, are boring into you when she reaches into her pocket and fishes out her knife.

Click, shuffle, the blade glimmers for a second. It’s been a while since you’ve seen her holding her knife, probably since she gave you the scar.

Unconsciously, you try to move your shoulder, your muscles protesting at the failed attempt.

Teeth bare, she grins at you. Feral, like always, there’s something comforting in knowing it’s something you’ve agreed on after she asked you. Well, not exactly asked: she informed you and you agreed. But it doesn’t matter now, besides, it’s all worth it to see that faint twitch of pride in her eyes, more evident now that she leans into you, and you hiss slightly at the coldness of her knife when she presses it to your neck. It pricks.

“Let’s start, shall we?” Her voice is like honey and, still, there’s harshness in her words.

She’s playing the villain now, one of her enemies, one of those people belonging to the world she’s trying to get you ready for… and despite you know it’s Miranda, there’s something about her that makes you think she’s playing the part perfectly. Maybe she’s even used to play the monster when she needs it - it wouldn’t have come as a surprise, after all.

Even if you don’t need to, you nod once, granting her the permission she didn’t ask, not this time. You’ve agreed to participate, now that you are here, you cannot decide when and if to stop anymore.

Her gloved fingers are cool when they graze on your cheek.

“A few days ago, you hacked a secret account.” Just like a siren’s call, her sweet voice beckons recent memories.

In a flash, you see yourself typing strings of codes, your body shaking as you sweat profusely, your body balanced between pleasure and pain while your mind struggles to keep focused. Miranda is everywhere inside you, cruel with her actions and merciful with her words as she praises you for the good work you’re doing. After what looks like an eternity, you can fulfill the task, pass her test: the account has been successfully hacked, you changed the password and it’s now yours to do as you like. You remember that moment, when she allowed you to take your reward. You remember that password as she made you chant it over and over again until all the waves subdued.

Miranda taps her fingers on your cheek. It’s not a proper slap, but the leather makes a strange noise against your skin and your face starts to sting in anticipation, just as if she’s struck you for real already.

“I want to know the password.” She demands.

Drawing a small breath, you raise your chin and shake your head.

This time, the slap comes loud and clear. It stings on your cheek and echoes through your ears; out of instinct, you tug at your restriction to press a palm on your cheek to soothe the pain, but it’s useless, since your hands are bound.

Miranda askes again, but you don’t falter. You shut your eyes tight when tears start to gather in your eyes after the fourth - or the fifth? - slap. Honestly, you’ve lost count, the throb webbing in your body, the muscles in your neck plucked for the sudden jerks of your head being forced to abruptly turn right and left, sometimes even in rapid succession when she strikes you twice.

The knife has remained a phony threat against your throat. She presses in while you breathe hard, your whole face aflame, scratches your skin, and then retrieves it.

When you dare to crack an eye open, she’s hovering above you, a smirk on her lips. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say she’s impressed, but you wouldn’t go that far - maybe pleased might be the closest definition.

Her gloved thumbs run across your cheekbones gathering the moisture at the corner of your eyes and, when she withdraws, she hums, rubbing her finger together until all the remains of your tears have completely evaporated.

Miranda straightens her back, her blue eyes never leaving yours.

Click, shuffle, she puts her knife back into her pocket.

From her other pocket, she fishes out something else: a small object that has your frown as you try to understand what it is. Gracefully, she holds it between her thumb and middle fingers in front of your eyes to let you look.

“You know what it is?”

Swallowing, you nod unevenly, your mind running wild as you try to guess what is she going to do with that rather than what it is. Your head is startling blank.

“It’s, uh, a nine-volt battery?”

Miranda bares her teeth into an appreciative grin.

“Good girl.” She praises, and the mirth in her voice has the power to make a shiver crawl up your spine and, at the same time, an improper heat pool low in your stomach. “Except that it isn’t.”

She throws the little object in the air and catches it in her fist, hiding it from your sight when she starts to pace around you, her boots making noise against the grates on the floor.

“This is not a common nine-volt battery, you see? This one is more fun.” She snaps her teeth dangerously close to your ear, making you jerk. When she returns, towering and dangerous when she stands in front of you, she’s holding again the battery between her fingers, fidgeting with it without much care, and yet, all your attention is drawn to it.

When she stops and stares down at you, the intensity of those blue eyes makes all the blood drain from your body. Miranda leans into you, her warm breath tickling your lips.

“Stick out your tongue for me now, would you?”

Your lips part by their own volition.

Your gaze helplessly locked in hers, your timidly push your tongue past the crack of your mouth, and even before you try to brace yourself and get ready for the incoming pain, your eyes are tightly shut.

“Fuck!” You shout behind clenched teeth, the electrical discharge running through your body like billions of sharp needles pulling at every muscle, plucking every tendon until you’re a shuddering mess.

It lasts a few instants, but it’s enough to leave you panting and exhausted, all your body growing heavy and falling limp into the chair when the tension ebbs away.

“What is the password.” She asks again, her voice low, controlled.

For a split second, the idea of just revealing to her the sequence of numbers and codes crosses your mind, but when would your promises go? Where would your pride go? You would be weak to her eyes as well as your own: this is part of her training, something you agreed on, and it’s your duty to indulge her.

The delay, however, is not at all welcomed: b efore you can even think about her next move, her hand wraps around your throat and squeezes, the sudden movement forcing you to open your mouth into a silent cry, and your tongue, in a natural reflex, falls out and into the battery clip.

Miranda knows when to release your neck and massage the soreness away with her leather glove; she knows for how much time she needs to let go in order to let you regain enough air in your lungs to play with you more, squeezing against your windpipes to have your tongue exposed and vulnerable and at her mercy as she pleases. Miranda keeps asking for the password, and despite the pain coursing through your body, despite the confusion settling in your brain, you’re determined not to tell her anything.

It’s difficult. There are tears streaming incessantly down your face now, gathering on your chin, big drops falling into your lap as you squirm and whine. At every electrical discharge, you think about just saying something, if only to make her stop, or to have a break - perhaps only a number, or a letter, if the first one is in capital or not - but just when you’re about to say something, you bite the inside of your own cheek, remind yourself to be strong.

And yet, for how long? Miranda is not tired, you can see by the shimmer in her eyes she’s almost enjoying this game, the sadist in her delighting in your suffering while she deliberately tortures you in the name of some sick experiment that needs to pass as training.

You’re about to break. Your tongue has gone numb by now, and it still hurts: the pain spreading into your head, your chest, the furthest parts of your body.

“Oh, no need to cry.” Her voice is saccharine when she talks to you and tuts soothingly, her smile broad and all mirth when she wipes your cheeks with the back of her hand, the leather rough against your skin.

You draw a shaky breath, your eyes dropping on the altered battery still gripped between her fingers. Miranda softens her expression now, but you know better than to believe she’s about to show any mercy: if anything, now that you’re close to giving in, she’ll only make things more interesting, toying deliberately with your strained brain.

“Let’s try with something simple then, shall we?” She straightens her back, her free hand resting on her hip as she watches you.

The hand that holds the battery swings almost carelessly by her side, but you know what’s there, you know the threat, you know the pain it can cause, when held between her fingers.

When she lifts her eyebrows questioningly, you know she’s waiting for an answer. Maybe just to check if you’re still receptive, maybe to make you think she’s really trying to be merciful - is she?

Not trusting your voice, you decide to nod, but a small whimper escapes your lips anyway.

“The name of the previous owner of that account.”

Your frown, wondering if she’s really asking you to reveal her own name. Of course, she’s playing someone else right now, but the request still has you puzzled: something’s not right.

“It’s harmless information, you can tell that to spare you some pain- to give yourself a break.”

It is part of the training? Is she testing your strength? Is she teaching you something really useful? There’s no way to tell for sure. You could try with some fake information?

“Come on, spill it.” Miranda urges and you swallow sand when you see her fiddling nervously with the battery, making it spin around her gloved fingers without looking, as a croupier would to with a coin or a fiche, as she uses to play with her knife - a constant threat, a constant game, impossible to tell the difference between the two. “How bad can it be?”

She’s insisting too much, so you decide it’s a test. She’s pushing and pushing hoping to see you crack. Clenching your jaw, you shake your head.

“I- won't.” You croak, your throat sore like the rest of your body, and incredibly dry.

She stops fidgeting with the battery abruptly. Her eyes are narrowed, the tip of her tongue resting on the upper row of her teeth as if she’s debating something with herself; then, she smiles, a grin that it’s all teeth and sick delight as her eyes glimmer and bear into you.

“You hesitated.” She states, and she makes it sound like it’s a good thing, like she’s glad that you did.

“I did not!” You protest, grimacing when the slight raise of your voice, the urgency in it, reminds you of the soreness that has settled there.

“You did.” She insists. “You thought about saying something.”

You struggle to swallow, you struggle to even breathe. It’s upsetting, to say the least, how she seems to be aware of everything that’s going on out and inside of you, even before you’ve made peace with your brain and decided what to do. Miranda is always ahead, she’s always prepared: like the most skilled poker player, she knows exactly where and how to strike.

There’s no room for hiding.

“I- maybe I’d told a lie.” You confess, wondering if she’ll accept your idea well.

Miranda stared down at you, unwavering; maybe she’ll strike, maybe she’ll nod and have mercy, after all, for not revealing anything secret nor potentially dangerous.

“And you would be such a good girl, right? Not telling the bad guy any truth.” Miranda almost coos as she talks and you barely register her digging her free hand into the pocket, because she’s walking toward you, deliberately slow and, at the same pace, she lowers herself down to her knee, settling herself right in between your bound ankles.

Her knife is out and open and ready to cut before you even have the chance to register the blade shining at the neon lights. It hooks at the collar of your shirt and tears the fabric apart as if it were butter.

Helplessly exposed, painfully vulnerable, you heave a shuddering breath when you take in her predatory gaze, the black of her pupils almost completely engulfing the blue. You can’t decide whether it’s the thrill of lust because she’s about to bestow a reward, or the rush of incoming violence because she’s about to bestow a punishment, instead.

The knife has disappeared again in one pocket, and you presume the battery has disappeared into the other when you feel her gloved hands gripping your knees with a bruising force. Miranda heaves herself up, closer to you, and the hot breath coming from her parted mouth crashes against the bare skin of your chest rhythmically.

When her mouth latches harshly at one of your breasts, your eyes roll backward, your brain glitching under the swirly movements of her tongue over your nipple, teeth tugging until you’re a quivering mess under her ministrations.

She leaves you pert and slick, totally unsatiated, and makes no effort to clean your skin of her wet assault when she releases you with a mischievous grin.

Miranda licks her lips when she draws slightly back, blue eyes staring into yours.

“Thing is, a lie is still something, m’eudail.”

Before your breath has returned to normal, she flashes her teeth and, without you noticing until it’s too late, she’s digging her hand into her pocket again.

Before you can connect the dots, she’s pulling up the battery for you to see.

Miranda doesn’t inch to your mouth, this time: her hungry eyes drop to your exposed chest, staring at the glistening moisture almost dripping down your pebbled, neglected nipple.

You gape at her, draw a small intake of breath and hold it in, but of course, it’s too late and you can only prepare for the searing pain. It comes quickly, has your eyes rolling in the back of your head almost immediately before everything turns black.

It’s been a couple of hours now since she’s put you on her bed, face down, the cool sheets soothing against your abused chest.

Over the quilt, Miranda lays by your side with her ankles crossed, still fully dressed in her coat and boots, but has tugged her gloves with her teeth and discarded them somewhere on the floor. Almost carelessly, she’s grazing her blunt nails over the scar on your shoulder that bears the initial of her name.

You look up at her questioningly, your neck protesting from the awkward angle as you peer from above your shoulder.

Miranda smiles; it’s a genuine, almost fond one and it’s been a while since she’s shown you a similar one.

“I’m proud of you.” She says.

#miranda croft #miranda croft x reader #tfa #the flight attendant #fanfiction #ao3 #four lines #hidden scars

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mylovelies-docx · 4 years ago

Text

Kid Krow - Comfort Crowd

Part 6!

A/N: We finally find out what promise Y/N made and couldn’t keep.

Chapter warnings: angst (as always), and like one paragraph of very vague smut.

As always, listen to the song here!

And read the story on AO3 here!

Taglist: @maraudersandco @sociallyawkwardcircus-freak-hi @hkmultifandom @spider-starry @ashleykaiba @mayangel19

Word count: 3.2k (a long boy!)

When you stormed out of the cockpit, Mille, Zalos, and Arle refused to look at you. You couldn’t blame them; you looked like hell. Zorii sat sharpening a blade and ticked her head towards the cockpit, asking silently if you wanted her to deal with Poe. You sniffed hard, scrubbed at your eyes, shook your head, and practically ran to your quarters.

You pleaded with the universe to just make Poe sit still and not follow you. You could not handle another moment with him, or else you would explode. Or more specifically, your heart would explode and you would die a slow, agonized death. All because of Poe kriffing Dameron and his stupid, stupid , friendship.

You made your way through the corridors, leaning heavily against the walls in order to not fall over in your pursuit of a private downward spiral.

Eventually you made it to your door and entered your code. The door slid open and you rushed inside, closing it behind you as fast as you could so you could be alone. But going where so many memories of Poe lived had been a mistake. Being alone with your thoughts and emotions was just too much.

It was all too much.

With a shattered scream, you broke down. Every last piece of your heart was wrecked and crushed and ripped apart until it was unrecognizable. And still, this burning, unending pain would not. Go. Away!

Outside, you heard a raised voice. Poe. Saying something about needing to talk, to explain, to apologize. But then muffled, indistinct words of warning from Zorii. You knew that Zorii would not let Poe anywhere near you after what had just happened and how upset she knew you were.

Zorii walked inside, her lithe frame seemed to be held together by rage alone. She hadn’t even bothered to knock or ask if you wanted someone around. But regardless, she was now your best friend, and you just needed company now.

“I will refrain from speaking too much on it, but I do need to emphasize how much I despise that man for everything he’s done to you,” she explained, and settled on your cot.

You wheezed out a humourless laugh. You were numb, through and through, after the havoc that had occurred over your last two encounters with Poe.

Zorii was still angry, but she opened her arms to you for comfort anyway. The look on her face and in her manners spoke of softness in spite of her fury, and it broke whatever respite your breakdown had afforded you. A cry exploded from between your lips, slamming into the walls of your quarters and deafening you. It was the sound of anguish and pain and betrayal that was ripped straight from your heart.

You hadn’t felt so miserable and pitiful in all your life: those stupid kids from back home could never have made you feel as bad as Poe has.

Zorii opened her arms wider and you ran to her. You clutched at her waist, burying your face in her stomach and just sobbed . Sobbed for the best and only friend that you had had for years before Zorii came along. Sobbed for the stupid, love-sick fool that couldn’t take a fucking hint and get over her best friend that never saw anything in her anyway.

Sobbed for yourself. Your pitiful, sad excuse of a self.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine,” you muttered over and over again in hopes of getting your pain under control. “I don’t really need him. I don’t. I don’t…”

She sighed, rubbing soothing circles into your back. “ You’ve said that lie already . We both know what a load of bantha crap it is.”

You repeat yourself over and over again, trying to drive it through your own skull instead of hers.

“Look,” Zorii sighed once again, “I know you loved him. As more than a best friend.” You cringed against her, ashamed that Zorii had to find out how you felt about the man she had been sleeping with. “And trust me, I understand the appeal all too well. I wouldn’t have started anything up with him if I had known how you felt. And to give credits where credits are due, you hid it really well; I had no idea until last week.”

You still couldn’t believe that Poe had said that to you in front of Zorii, remembering how terrible you had felt about it and how profusely you had apologized to Zorii once she had come to check on you that night.

“I overheard your holo-vid with Kes the other night as well,” Zorii admitted, wincing at her own invasion of your privacy. You were too overwhelmed to tell her you really didn’t mind.

“He mentioned some force tree or something? I don’t really know what you had said before that, but he mentioned that and you went quiet. I’ll admit that I was intrigued and maybe wandered closer to your door than I intended to.”

Her voice went soft after that.

“But then I heard you mention that he knew: what who knew, at that point, I wasn’t sure. But you went on to explain how you had felt so pretty dressed up in Shara Bey’s dress and how you had prepared a whole speech. At that point, I figured you were talking about Poe.”

You closed your eyes against her and tried hard to push the memory away.

***

It was a lovely day on Yavin IV, and the big, gnarly-rooted force tree near the Dameron’s household was a brilliant green in the midday glow. The wind was whispering through the jungle, and all the creatures that made it their home seemed to be singing along to some unspoken melody. Just for you.

And for Poe, whenever he decided to show up.

You were all nerves. Sweat under your arms, a racing heart, and clammy hands: always the best look for confessing your love to someone.

You and Poe had returned home to Yavin last month after being away for a few years. Your group had had a close call on the last run, and you begged Poe to come with you to see Kes and your gran.

Your gran couldn’t care less that you hadn’t been home, but Kes was ecstatic that you guys had come back to see him.

Poe had gone to the market to pick up some snacks for the picnic Kes told him you had planned. Poe just didn’t know that it was supposed to be a date for the two of you, and Kes wasn’t going to spoil the surprise.

You were busy getting ready when Kes presented you with the most beautiful dress you had ever seen from Shara Bey’s closet. He was adamant that you wore that particular dress, since it was the one he loved most on her. Your emotions were already bubbling over from anxiety, but the look on Kes’s face when he looked at the dress broke your heart. You could see that he was reliving a memory of him and Shara Bey, and you just couldn’t break the spell that it had over him, so you sat quietly.

He eventually resurfaced and left you alone to finish your routine, all the while insisting that you’d be his official daughter sooner or later. Your smile was so big that it hurt your cheeks.

You arrived at the tree and started to set up the blanket and pillows that you had brought from the Dameron household. The blanket was spread out in the flattest nook between roots, and the pillows were propped up against the trunk. You took your place among the pillows and waited.

And waited.

Admittedly, Poe was prone to getting carried away with conversations between himself and the vendors, but that particular outing seemed to last forever in your mind. You knew why later, but at that point in time, you were convinced that Poe felt something for you and would return for you soon.

You knew that he felt something for you; on all your spice runs, he begged you to stay inside the ship and be safe, he brought you back pretty trinkets that he said reminded him of you, and he was always flirting.

Always.

The nickname he gave you? Princess? Absolutely flirtatious. The hugs before and after he left the ship? Obviously an excuse to be close to you. The little winks he’d send over the fire at you and all the inside jokes you two had? Come on! It was all right there. And Kes agreed! So, you two devised this little set up so that you could finally confess to Poe.

Even with only the progression of Yavin Prime to get a rough estimate of time’s passage, it still took Poe entirely too long to find you. When he finally showed up, you had fallen into a light sleep.

“Where’s dad?” Poe asked, setting down a basket with absolutely nothing in it. He plopped down right beside it, startling you awake.

“Where are our picnic supplies?” You countered, rubbing your eyes and feeling nauseous and disoriented after your impromptu nap.

He lifted his hands in the air as if to say “what can you do” and grunted. “Everyone had packed up by the time I got there. Why isn’t dad out here with us? Did he go back to the house to grab something?” His nonchalance and lack of apology really ate away at your resolve to profess your love to him. You wanted to know what took him so long before you said anything about your feelings.

“No, no he never came out here,” you explained. “Why did it take you so long to get to the market? You left hours ago -- the sun’s going down.” You were wringing your hands in your lap, nervous about what his answer could be.

“I was just catching up with someone; nothing to worry your beautiful head about.” When he said that, he had smoothed over the top of your head like a cherished and beloved friend. “It’s a good thing for us, I promise,” he winked. You were eating it all up like you were starved for affection.

How tragic.

You quickly grasped his hand before you lost all nerve. You kept it between your palms, drawing patterns on the back of it that kept your eyes down and away from his questioning gaze and adorable, slightly confused smile.

The future opened up bright and wonderful before you: your mutual affections coming out in the open and that long-awaited first kiss. Stars , you had been fantasizing about Poe’s lips for more than half of your life at that point. And his hands. His hands! Maker, if they would just glide over your skin and caress you like you had pictured for years, you would die a happy woman. And you’d thread your hands through those beautiful curls at the nape of his neck and tug just a little bit, until he groaned like you had always heard in your dreams. You would move together, right on that blanket under the force tree you and Poe had always loved. You would come apart in the most delicious way, panting and crying, with his mother’s ring dangling from the chain around his neck and nestling itself into the hollow of your throat. And then he would grind into you one final time and just pour his affections into your neck and mouth for safe keeping.

How goddamn tragic it all turned out to be .

“I need to tell you something,” you whispered, looking up through your eyelashes at him. He grinned, seeming just as excited and nervous as you were.

“Me too. I’ve been dying to tell you something for days now!” He wiggled where he sat next to you, scooting as close as he could and touching your foreheads together, like you were about to share secrets that were only meant for the two of you.

“You first,” you said, breathless. You couldn’t believe it was finally happening.

“No, no. You had something to say first, so you go ahead.” Poe had still been grinning at you, the happiest you had seen him in a while.

“How about we say it together?” You countered, giving his hand a little squeeze in anticipation.

“Okay, on the count of three,” he began.

“One…” you said together.

“Two…” you continued.

“Three!” You shut your eyes.

“I love you,” -- “Zorii and I are together,”

Silence. Your eyes were still shut, but now you were holding them so tightly that shapes were floating behind your eyelids. Poe pulled his hand from yours.

“What?” He asked, sounding confused and slightly wounded. Like he couldn’t believe that you had the nerve to say that out loud and ruin everything .

“Don’t,” you began, turning your head down and willing your heart to stop its frantic pace in your chest. “I – I didn’t know… I thought…” you trailed off, unsure what to say to fix the mess that you had created.

“(Y/N), do—do you love me? As more than a friend?” He grabbed your chin and forced you to meet his baffled gaze. You couldn’t think straight at that point, so you said the first thing that had popped in your mind.

“Yes, of course I do.”

Stupid girl.

“Oh, princess.” He released your chin and sat back, resting against the pillows like he was exhausted and didn’t have the energy to deal with the situation any longer. “I’m sorry if I ever did anything to lead you on; I just thought we were friends. I mean, we both see other people, and I’ve never felt that way about you so I didn’t think you did either.”

He could not have said anything worse to you in that moment, could not have said anything that sucked all the warmth from your body any faster than that had.

Okay, (Y/N), just breathe. Think of a way out of this, you begged your frazzled mind. Anything would be better than the silence stretching between you at that point.

“I guess… I got some things confused. I’m sorry.” And now you were that little girl again, apologizing for things out of your control and no fault of your own.

You felt small again, insignificant and alone. A floating pile of junk in the vacuum of space, with no planet in sight and no answers to your distress calls.

Poe could see you spiraling, he had known you long enough to recognize the signs.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, princess, we’ll figure this out,” he murmured, coming closer to you once again. He arranged the pillows so that he could lay back with you on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and muttered soothing words, trying to calm you down and bring you back to him. Like he had done so many times before.

“No, there’s nothin’ to figure out; this is on me. Just give me some time and I’ll get over it.” You hadn’t gotten over it in all the years you had loved him-- truly loved him-- but you had vowed to figure it out, and quickly, so that you could stop feeling like that. “I promise I’ll get over it,” you said into the fist that was curled next to your face on his chest.

You closed your eyes and tried not to focus too hard on how good he felt underneath you like that. How intimate it was, how much it reminded you of the outcome of every daydream you had had.

How you knew that it was probably how he and Zorii spent their nights together now...

***

“Kes didn’t know how that day turned out because Poe and I fell asleep outside. I was too embarrassed to face him that next mornin’, so I sent Poe back to tell him we got an urgent message and had to leave. I don’t know exactly what they said to each other, but Poe looked sad when he came back and I didn’t wanna know.” The confession slipped through your lips, chapped from all the salty tears that you had cried into Zorii’s tunic.

“Oh, (Y/N). I’m so, so sorry. He was on a call with me that evening. I had no idea you were waiting on him; he just mentioned you all were going on a picnic and that his dad could keep you company for a while.” Her hands clenched against your back, as if trying to protect from a hurt that had already passed and done its damage.

“That boy wouldn’t know a Gungan from an Ewok if they were both standing in front of him. The only reason we ever got together was because I made the first move.” Her hands now continued their previous path of soothing circles, hoping to make up for the pain that she unintentionally caused not so long ago.

It amazed you how drastically things could change in such a short amount of time.

“It’s alright, Zorii, I’m not mad at you. I’m just angry at myself. Always at myself. For bein’ too slow, too emotional, too much and never enough at the same time.” You were defeated and exhausted, no longer able to keep even an ember of your earlier fire alive.

“I will not tolerate you speaking about my best friend that way; she is a wonderful person, and the best damn pilot we’ve ever had. She doesn’t deserve to be treated this way,” Zorii chided, having pushed you away from her and giving you a stern look.

You returned something resembling a smile.

You looked back to her lap where you had just spent an indeterminate amount of time; the white fabric covering her stomach was completely transparent.

“Oh Rii, I’m sorry about your clothes,” you mumbled, trying to dry it with the sleeves of your outfit. It did no good.

“I don’t really mind; I like my shirts soggy,” she said, deadpan.

This time, a real laugh bubbled up from your throat. You were immensely grateful you had a friend like her.

______

For months after Poe’s departure, you kept a smile on your shoulders until you were sweaty; begging on your knees for somebody to come and help you when it was too much to carry. Zorii did her best, but no one could replace the comfort and happiness you had once found in Poe. You eventually stopped asking for help and pretended to have moved on.

But time passes, and past hurts are less painful. Especially when you don’t think about them.

You had seen the missed messages from Poe in those early days. Every time your comm buzzed, the despair you felt over your situation returned tenfold, and the only option was to throw the device in a forgotten corner and let it die -- just like your feelings.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe x reader #poe dameron/reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x female reader #star wars #star wars fan fiction #sequel trilogy #Kid Krow (A Poe Dameron Story)

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

Sub Rosa [33]

iv. watch the thrones

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: mentions of blood, getting drugged, injuries, death, Lincoln gets brained with a rock (this is my brothers description, I had to include it), anxiety.

Summary: things in Arkadia are rapidly changing, and for the first time in a long time, you and Bellamy find yourselves on opposite sides. new leadership takes over, and you agree to something you never thought you’d do.

a/n: hi loves! in case you didn’t see my post at like 5 in the morning (lmao what is sleep), I finished writing s5 last night! it still needs some editing, of course, but I’m hoping to start to on s6 early next week which means we will probably be moving to three posts a week! let me know if that’s something you want! also the taglist for this series is open! I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

When you open your eyes to find the medical ward, you let out a soft groan. Twice in one week, great. The sound stirs the sleeping figure beside you, and you look down and lock eyes with a very worried looking Bellamy. Tears spring to his eyes as he whispers, “I’m so sorry.”

You reach up and brush a finger over the frown lines on his forehead, smoothing them down, and you can tell he’s been beating himself up for leaving you behind, probably from the moment he drove away. You give him a soft smile, “Getting drugged by your boyfriend builds character.”

“You’re not mad?”

You shake your head. “Gina told me not to be. Said she overheard everything. Reminded me that sometimes people do crazy things for love.”

He smiles, but you can see the guilt still there, weighing on him heavily. “Don’t carry this alone, Atlas. You thought leaving me behind meant I was safe. You had no way of knowing.”

He nods, before shaking his head as if he’s clearing his thoughts, replacing the frown with a small smile. “Look at you. Comforting me while you’re the one hooked up to the IV.”

He stands, “Let me go get your mom.”

You turn, reaching out to grab him. “Not yet, please.”

He nods and sits back down beside you, and as your eyes follow him, they pass over a yellow book with blue binding, resting on the table beside you. You smile and reach out for it, passing it to Bellamy. “I got you something.”

He smiles slightly when he sees it, and you cringe a little at the imperfections on the cover. “Sorry about the explosion damage. And the blood.”

You see the sadness in his eyes, but he laughs at your joke anyways. You scoot over to the edge of the too small bed and pat the space beside you. “Read to me.”

He looks hesitant, eyeing the small space. “What if I hurt you?”

“If I know my mother, I know there are enough pain meds in this IV that I won’t feel a thing.” You pat the bed again. “Now tell me about the gods.”

His worry softens into one of love, and you know he won’t deny the request, the same way you never deny when he asks about the stars. He carefully slides into the bed beside you, maneuvering until you’re half laying on him, with your head on his chest. He presses a kiss into your hair before opening the book, and starting at the beginning. “Sing, O goddess, the rage of Achilles, son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon…”

You fall into his voice as he reads to you, telling you of the Trojan War, drawing comfort in the steady thump of his heart beneath your ear. Because if the last 24 hours have taught you anything, it’s that sometimes people do stupid things for love, and you were glad that you got hurt, while Bellamy came home safe.

There is no privacy in the medical ward.

Your mother comes in while Bellamy is reading to you, and after some begging, she sits down beside you to tell you about the summit and why Clarke didn’t return. Kane steps into the room as she’s updating you, and as soon as she finishes, he’s muttering quiet apologies for not allowing you at the summit and leaving you at the Mountain from Hell. Raven forces her way in next, practically knocking Jackson out of the way when he scolds her about “patients needing rest”. You’re relieved to hear that her and Sinclair are okay, thanks to you she says.

Octavia and Lincoln join the group not long after her, both pleased to hear that their training came in handy when you fought off the assassin. Your mom chases them all out soon after, lecturing them about privacy and rest, before checking your IV’s and bandages and leaving you alone again with Bellamy. As soon as the room clears out, you turn to Bellamy. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I know that no one else will either. Did you check for survivors?”

“We tried to, but the rubble was too dense. Abby said there’s no way anyone could have survived that, especially because most of the people were probably in the middle of the mountain when it collapsed.” You feel a wave of guilt rush over you, making you sick. “They’re having a memorial.”

You look up at him. “When?”

“In a few minutes, I think.”

You sit up, already tugging the IV out of your hand. “I wanna go.”

“Wait, what about-”

“I know what you’re going to say. Yes, I was stabbed three times, on top of my still healing fourth stab wound. Yes, I was also thrown backwards from an explosion. Yes, I should probably stay in bed. And yes, my mother will have a fit.” You look up at him, face serious. “But I need to be at that memorial, Bellamy.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but thinks better of it, before going to grab your pants and jacket, most of your clothes discarded when they stitched you up. He helps you dress before kneeling down and helping you into your boots and tying them up for you. Once he finishes, he stands and helps you out of the bed, making sure that you walk slow and lean most of your weight on him.

As you walk through the room and towards the door, you see your discarded knife and holster on a table, and you reach out for it. Bellamy stops and grabs it, helping you strap it to your thigh, and you look at the knife as he slides it into the holster, the blade still stained red. It makes you think of Gina, covered in blood, barely alive, urging you to leave her behind. You glance at Bellamy as he slowly leads you to the memorial. “Gina saved my life.”

He glances over at you, expression neutral. “What do you mean?”

“She was covered in blood, Bellamy, her shirt soaked through with it. She had at least three stab wounds to her stomach that I saw, but I’m sure there were more. She was barely alive when I got to her, and she still managed to tell me about the self-destruct. She told me to go after the assassin and get the codes, instead of staying to help her. I don’t know if she knew what she was doing, if she knew that what she was telling me to do would save my life, but it did. I’d be dead in that mountain if she didn’t send me after him.”

Bellamy stops in the hall and turns to face you, tears springing up in his eyes. His voice is thick with emotion when he chokes out, “I’m thankful for Gina, because she saved one of the most important things in my life.”

You reach up and wipe the fallen tears from his face. “I’m thankful for her too. And I’m thankful the summit wasn’t a trap, and that you came back to me safely.”

You pull him down for a kiss, pushing all your love for him into it, letting him know that you’re okay, you’re safe, and he doesn’t need to feel guilty. You pull away and whisper, “I love you.”

He whispers back, “I love you more than the stars.”

You both smile and he helps you the rest of the way to the memorial service, and you slip inside during the middle of it. Bellamy finds a pair of chairs in the back, out of view from your mother’s position near the front. Pike stands up at the front, near a table of memorial objects, and addresses the room. “All that’s certain is that we die. How we die is up to us. Who will speak for Iris Jones?”

Miller’s boyfriend Bryan stands, moving to the front of the room quickly. “Iris was strong, good with a knife. She saved my life. I’m just sorry I couldn’t do the same for her.”

He flips open a pocket knife and sets it onto the table before returning to his seat beside Miller. Pike stands again. “We will miss Iris. May we meet again.”

The room repeats in unison, “May we meet again.”

“Who will speak for Gina Martin?”

You sit up in your seat, looking around to see who will speak for her, surprised to find no one. You glance at Bellamy, finding that he’s equally surprised, which is enough to fuel your split second decision, and you stand. Pike’s eyes find you and he nods, a look on his face you can’t identify. As you walk to the front of the room, you risk a glance at your mother, who’s shaking her head in disappointment. You mouth, “Sorry.”

You turn and look at the room, suddenly nervous to speak for Gina, a woman you barely knew, but you decide that honesty is always the best. “Um, I didn’t bring anything for Gina because I didn’t find out about this memorial until a few minutes ago, so I’m sorry about that. But I just wanted to say that though I barely knew Gina, she saved my life. And until the end of her life, she tried to save the lives of her people. Our people. I’ll spend the rest of my life honoring that.”

You nod your head once, and glance out at the crowd. “May we meet again.”

The crowd repeats back, “May we meet again.”

You head back to your seat, and Pike stands and shakes your hand as you walk past, murmuring, “Strong girl.”

Behind you, the doors to the room open and a few guards step in, heading straight towards Pike. He drops your hand and steps away from you, and you walk the rest of the way back to Bellamy. You see Lincoln standing behind him, having quietly slipped in at some point, and you nod to him in greeting as you sit down. The guards are talking quietly with Pike, and as the crowd starts to murmur with worry, you turn to ask Bellamy, “What’s going on?”

He shrugs, looking just as confused, and you watch as Pike walks over to Kane and your mom, relaying whatever news came from the guards. Pike must not like what they have to say, because he steps away from them, looking disgusted, his voice rising louder. “You gave a Grounder one of our radios?”

This sends a wave of worry through the crowd and everyone stands as Hannah, Monty’s mom, asks, “Sir, are we under attack?”

Bellamy stands beside you, looking over the crowd to watch Kane, and you rise and stand next to him, trying to get a look. “No, we are not under attack. The Commander sent a peace keeping force to ensure that we can defend against any further attacks from the Ice Nation.”

You feel Bellamy tense beside you before Pike yells, “Peace keeping force? Even you can’t be that naïve, Marcus!”

Your mother snaps, “Watch your tone, you’re talking to the next Chancellor. This has been hard on all of us, but we can’t let anger drive our policy.”

“Anger is our policy!” The crowd murmurs in agreement, and Pike jumps onto a chair nearby so the room can see him. “Now if they’re here to defend us, as you say, then tell them to go home! We can defend ourselves!”

You pull a face, unconvinced, and look over to Bellamy to see if he feels the same. But his expression is passive, unreadable. You don’t have time to dwell on it any further, because one of Pike’s men, Gillmer, yells out, “You!”

You look up and see him pointing in your direction, but after a second, you realize he’s pointing at Lincoln, who’s right behind you. “You don’t belong here.”

Some of the people in the crowd whisper their agreement, and before you can even process what’s happening, Gillmer pulls his arm back and throws a rock at Lincoln, hitting him on the side of the head. You and Bellamy jump into action at the same time, both of you moving in front of Lincoln to defend him as some of the crowd turns and tries to attack. A few of your fellow guardsmen also jump into the mix, defending Lincoln, keeping back the surging crowd as they kick and punch at all of you, trying to reach Lincoln.

You let out a yelp of pain when someone’s fist lands in the stitches on your side, and Bellamy immediately notices and punches the guy so hard that he hits the ground. You turn, ready to defend against the next person, but a high pitched whistle pierces the room, freezing everyone in place. You all turn to see Pike watching the events from his chair, disappointed. “We do not attack our own! Fighting each other only makes us weak. The enemy is not in this camp. The enemy is out there.”

You turn and glance back at Lincoln, who looks unsteady on his feet, his eyelids fluttering as he fights back the pain. He turns and stumbles out the door before anyone can check on him, and you turn to Bellamy. “Get your sister and get my mom, and meet me in medical. I’ll bring Lincoln.”

“Okay.” He leans down and kisses you quickly before making a beeline for your mother on the other side of the room. You turn and follow the path Lincoln took, coming out into the sunshine to see him kneeling on the ground. He punches the wall in frustration, and you barely hear him whisper, “Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.”

You watch as he pulls himself to his feet, and you ask, “What does that mean?”

He spins around quickly, surprised to see you, and you give him an apologetic look. He translates, “Get knocked down, get back up.”

“I like that.” You peer up at the cut on his head, the blood rushing down the side of his face and onto the ground below. “Let me take you to medical.”

He shakes his head, “I’m fine.”

You lift your shirt slightly, revealing your stab wound, now reopened. “Then you should take me to medical.”

He gives you a serious look, and for a second you think he’s about to lecture you, until he smiles. “Looks like we should go before your mom and Octavia hunt us both down.”

“Agreed.”

You both start walking towards the building slowly, partially because of your mutual injuries, partially because neither of you are in a hurry to get into the serious conversations that await you both in the med bay. You glance over at him as he stumbles slightly, and he turns to you, voice sarcastic, “This is turning out to be a great day.”

You look down at your stained shirt, now turning red with fresh blood, and then at the little patches of bandages that cover your other wounds. You laugh along with him. “You know, I’ve been getting my ass kicked ever since I got down here.”

Lincoln watches you from the corner of his eye. “Do you remember when you went into the woods the morning after you landed, and sat and watched the sunrise?”

You turn to him, suspicious. “How do you know about that?”

He looks away, watching people as they mill about the camp. “Because I was there. I think I scared you off.”

“I knew I heard someone out in the woods!”

“Sorry.” He turns towards you again, looking like he means it. “I was keeping track of the camp, trying to double check my numbers when you came marching out into the woods with a troubled look on your face.”

“I was thinking about my dad, and my shitty relationship with Clarke and my mom, Shumway...just all the bad stuff really.”

He nods, “I got to see a lot of your leadership, before you even realized you were becoming a leader. I always liked the way you lead; empathetic, but take no shit. A warrior with a heart.”

You look over at him, smiling. “Yeah, well what about you, Mr. Risk It All For Octavia? You were the first Grounder that tried to help us make peace, all because you fell in love.”

He laughs when you draw out the word love, playful, before you add, “You’re the original warrior with a heart. The physical embodiment of it.”

He shrugs, “Maybe. I was just doing what I thought was right.”

“I think that’s all we can do.”

You both fall into comfortable silence as you walk the rest of the way into the medical ward, and as soon as you’re both through the door, chaos erupts. Lincoln is swarmed by Kane, Pike, and your mother all asking him a flurry of questions. You both exchange a knowing smirk as he allows them to lead him over to one of the empty beds and look him over. Jackson walks over to you, a disapproving look on his face. “Those were my best stitches.”

You lift your shirt, exposing the reopened wound. “They were.”

He leads you back over to your abandoned bed, bringing his med kit along with him. You lean back and allow him to work, listening in on the conversation happening on the other side of the room while your mom stitches up Lincoln. “Do you want to press charges?”

You can’t see Lincoln, but his tone is firm when he answers, “No. No charges.”

“Lincoln, we need to set an example.”

Lincoln agrees with Kane, but not in the way he wants him to. “Yeah, we do.”

“The man just lost his son, Marcus.” You roll your eyes at Pike’s defense of Gillmer.

“Lincoln didn’t do that.”

The rest of the conversation is cut short as the Blake siblings run in. Octavia heads straight for Lincoln, and Bellamy comes to your side just as Jackson finishes your stitches. You smile at him in thanks, and he gives you a serious look. “No more fist fights until you heal. Please.”

“Yes, doctor.”

He smiles before turning away, leaving you and Bellamy alone. When you look up at him, you see his jaw is set and his eyes are locked on your newly stitched wound. You pull your shirt down, before reaching up and lifting his gaze to meet yours. “I’m fine, Bellamy. You can put away your ass kicking look.”

“I just got you back.”

“I know, and I’m not going anywhere.”

His gaze lifts from yours as Pike and Kane walk out of the ward, before he looks back at you again. “I need to go talk to Pike about his men. Will you be okay?”

You sigh, because the look on his face tells you his conversation with Pike is inevitable. You reach up and grab his shirt, tugging him down until his lips meet yours. He kisses you hard, and it surprises you, the almost possessive feel of it. You pull away and whisper, “Please don’t beat anyone up on my behalf.”

His expression is unreadable when he answers, “No promises.”

He starts to turn away, but you grab his hand and tug him back. “I love you.”

The blank expression melts away, affection crossing his features, the words never failing to soften him again. “I love you more than the stars.”

He leans down and presses another kiss to your lips, this one softer than the last, before turning and leaving the ward in search of Pike.

You spend most of the afternoon helping Nyko and Lincoln with the sick Grounders that Nyko brought to Arkadia while you were at the memorial service. They ask you to translate the Trigedasleng for your mother, helping you practice and correcting you when you make mistakes.

Sometime in the evening, hours after almost everyone has left, you’re sitting with Lincoln and Nyko, listening to stories of their friendship, when Harper and Monroe run in. You stand as soon as you see them, panic written clearly on both of their faces. “What? What’s going on?”

Harper shakes her head, “I’m not sure, but it’s not good.”

“Explain.”

Monroe steps forward. “We went to the mess hall to find Bellamy, to ask about you, actually, but we stopped when he realized he was sitting with Pike. Their conversation looked really serious, so we tried to listen in on what was happening, but we only caught bits and pieces.”

Harper nods, “They were talking about the Grounder army and how it’s dangerous for us to have them here because they can attack at any time.”

“And then he mentioned it would only take a small team to take them out.”

“We couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation because they started talking really quietly. But then a few minutes later, Bellamy got up and left.”

“We thought maybe he was coming here to see you, but as we started walking this way, we came across Miller.”

You look between the two girls, confused. “Okay, and?”

“Miller was guarding the armory, and said Bellamy came over to relieve him early.”

You feel your stomach sink to your feet as the pieces slide into place. “Shit.”

You look over at Lincoln, “How fast can you get to the front gates?”

“Fast.”

“I need you to stop them.”

He nods, and you turn to Monroe and Harper. “You two stay with Lincoln, back him up.”

They both nod. “I’ll be right behind you, go!”

They all turn and run off, and you jog out after them, heading towards the Chancellor’s office. Octavia finds you on the way, moving as fast as you can, clutching your side, and she sees the worry in your face. “What’s going on? I just went to medical to see you and Lincoln, and Nyko told me you all left in a hurry.”

“Bellamy is about to do something incredibly stupid because Pike got in his head. I need you to get Kane, tell him that Pike is going after the army. I’ll find my mother.”

She immediately turns and runs off, heading for the Chancellor’s office, and you turn and change course for your old residence, the one you shared with your mother. When you reach the door, you don’t even bother knocking, you just barge right in. You’re unsurprised to see her still awake, pouring over maps and notes, and she looks up in surprise at your intrusion. “What’s-”

“There’s no time. Pike is going to kill the army. Sound the alarm, shut the camp down, do whatever you need to do, but you can’t let them leave.”

“Oh my god.”

She immediately takes off running, and you turn to follow, stopping when you see her pistol lying on the table near the door, forgotten. You make a last second decision and grab it before running out the door and heading towards the front gate so you can meet Lincoln and the others. As you run up, Monroe and Harper are walking towards you, both looking defeated, and you’re about to question them when you see Lincoln standing in front of the group, blocking their path, while Gillmer points a gun at him.

You run past the two girls and head straight for Gillmer, stopping a few feet away and lifting your gun towards him. “Stand down, Gillmer.”

He looks towards you in surprise, and you hear the sound of guns cocking as some of the people in the group lift their weapons and aim towards you. Bellamy panics and yells, “Guns down!”

They hesitate and lower them slightly, still watching you and Lincoln with suspicion. Lincoln uses the opportunity to knock Gillmer’s gun out of his hand, before pulling out his knife and holding it to his throat. The group freaks out again, lifting their weapons until Bellamy yells, “I said put the guns down. Now!”

“Do what he says.”

Everyone lowers their weapons, and Monty’s mom mutters, “So much for the good Grounder.”

You lower your weapon and turn towards Bellamy. “What are you doing?”

“I’m protecting us, like always. That army is a threat to us.”

“Bellamy, that army is here to protect us.”

Lincoln, still holding a knife to Gillmer’s throat, mutters, “We can’t let you start a war.”

Pike glares at him, “We’re already at war.”

Bellamy’s jaw sets, and you can see the muscles clench as he grinds out, “You can’t stop this.”

Seconds after he says it, the alarms in the camp start blaring, “All Arkadia security personnel, report to the main gate. All Arkadia security personnel, report to the main gate now.”

Octavia comes running up and stands beside you and LIncoln, looking at Bellamy in disgust. “What’s wrong with you?”

The rest of the guards, accompanied by Kane and your mother, arrive and target the small group. Pike yells, “Farm Station, guns on the ground. On the ground!”

Pike drops his weapon and the others follow suit, as Kane urges Lincoln to release Gillmer. He does so reluctantly, shoving him away, as your mother descends on Pike on a wave of fury. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What you didn’t have the guts to.”

“Guards, take them to lockup now.” She turns and yells to the gathering crowd, “Everybody back to your quarters. It’s over.”

“Nothing is over!” Pike fights against the guards at his back. “We are surrounded by warriors who want us dead!”

“That’s enough.”

“No, it isn’t. Not even close. Why don’t you show us all what you let the Grounders do to you yesterday? Come on, Kane. I think that the people who are about to vote for you have a right to know.”

Kane pulls up his sleeve, revealing the mark of the coalition, signaling Skaikru’s status as one of the clans. “It’s the mark of the Commander’s Coalition. It means we are the 13th clan. It means we are in this fight together.”

“No. It’s what farmers used to do to their livestock.”

Hannah adds, “Right before the slaughterhouse!”

Gillmer yells, “Sir, you should be on the ballot tomorrow!”

“That’s enough. Take him away.”

The guards pull Pike away, and as they lead the others away, you watch Bellamy, whose face is blank and unreadable. He doesn’t look your way once as the guards at his back start to push him forward, but as they do, he starts to chant. “Pike! Pike!”

The rest of the prisoners join the chant, accompanied by a few people in the dispersing crowd, and you, Lincoln, Octavia, Kane, and your mother all exchange horrified looks, watching as they go.

You’re up all night, pacing in the Chancellor’s office as everyone discusses the possibility that Pike might be the next round of leadership. You don’t contribute to the arguments or discussions, your pace steady as you move back and forth across the office space, thinking of Bellamy. Your boyfriend, who broke the law. Your boyfriend, who broke the law to arm a rogue group. A rogue group hellbent on murder.

You can’t make sense of it, can’t understand the thought process that led him to that point. You haven’t made sense of it by the time Lincoln and Octavia leave, promising to reconvene in the morning. You haven’t made sense of it by the time your mother falls asleep on the couch, slumped over on Kane. When the sun rises, signaling election day, you still don’t understand. Your confusion continues through your vote, Kane’s name written on a slip of paper, dropped into the ballot box.

By noon, the votes have been counted, recounted, and checked again. The Chancellor has been chosen, and Kane is the first to find you. You’re sitting outside, carving a fourth tally mark into the handle of your knife, signalling the death of the Azgeda assassin, when he stops in front of you, pulling you to your feet. He leads you to a hidden corridor without a word, and you follow, noticing the serious expression on his face. He checks to make sure you’re alone three times before he turns to you. “Pike won the election.”

The news hits you like a bus, knocking the breath out of you and leaving you disoriented. “What are we going to do? We can’t let him lead. He’ll ruin everything we’ve worked for the last three months.”

“I know, but the people chose. They want Pike. It’s out of our hands now.”

“Kane…” You trail off, disagreeing, but he lifts a hand to quiet you. “There’s nothing we can do from the outside, but if we had someone on the inside, someone passing along information, we could change things. Sabotage them.”

You shake your head. “Bellamy is lost to us, Kane. I’ve been trying to understand it, but he has some strange new loyalty to Pike. He agrees with him, trusts him. No way he’ll turn on him.”

“I don’t mean Bellamy.”

The realization hits, and you almost laugh. “Me?”

“Pike won’t trust me or Abby, and he certainly won’t trust Lincoln and Octavia. But you…”

“I openly opposed him last night. I doubt he forgot that.”

“No, but he understands protecting his people, however misguided his attempts.”

You consider this, and Kane’s request for you to spy, a decision that will put you at odds with the love of your life. A decision that could ruin your relationship, end it, if he ever found out. But it’s also the only way to save Bellamy from himself, and from Pike. You look up at Kane with a sigh, “I’ll do it.”

“Good. I’m going to tell Pike right now. You should be there to greet Bellamy.”

You nod and follow him out of the hiding spot. He leads you over to the prison, grabbing guards along the way. The walk towards the cells feels dangerous, your anxiety growing as the reality of what you agreed to starts to hit you. But you push all of those feelings away, locking them in a box deep in your mind, because they are too dangerous for you now. The anxiety, the disbelief, the disagreements with Pike’s beliefs, they paint targets on your back.

Kane opens the door to the cell and steps inside, and you stand just outside, watching from the other side. You and Bellamy lock eyes, and you can’t read the expression on his face, something that’s only started once Pike came into the picture. You quickly conclude that it’s not something you like. Kane holds out the Chancellor pin to Pike. “Congratulations, Mr. Chancellor.”

Pike takes it as Kane adds, “The vote wasn’t close. Our people are now your responsibility, Charles. I hope you take that seriously.”

“Thank you, Marcus. I certainly intend to.” He attaches the pin to his shirt, before turning to look at his fellow prisoners. “For my first official action as Chancellor, I pardon myself and the others. For my second official action, I reject the brand that made us the 13th clan. For my third, let’s finish what we started.”

Kane steps aside as everyone exits the room, following Pike out the door and to the armory. Bellamy is the last one to leave, and Kane leaves the room to give you privacy. He stands in front of you, silent, before whispering, “Less than two days ago, I thought you were dead. You all went radio silent, and when we got to Mount Weather, Raven and Sinclair were sitting beside you, keeping pressure on your wounds. They were surrounded by ripped pieces of clothing, soaked through with blood, and I thought there was no way that you were alive.”

He surprises you by reaching out, intertwining his fingers with yours. “The whole ride back to Arkadia, I was sure that you were going to die. Your mom stopped the bleeding the best she could before we left, but you were so weak and your breathing was so shallow. When we got back and they finally got you stabilized, I swore to myself that I’d never let death that close to you again.”

“Bellamy…”

You trail off, unsure what to say, but he continues, “Months ago, I promised that I would keep you safe, and I’ve failed. You have four stab wounds right now that I could have prevented, all of them from Grounders. From people who’ve been trying to kill us since we landed. That army is a threat to us, a threat to you. I won’t let them hurt you anymore, and I won’t let them hurt our people.”

Though you understand his reasoning, his fear now ruling his decisions and causing him to believe in Pike, you don’t agree. But as a spy, you let him think you do. “I didn’t understand it last night, but then something you said helped me to. You have always done what’s best for us and our people. I’ve been skeptical of Pike, which made me lose sight of that. But I understand now. Pike is what’s best for us and our people. I just wish you had talked to me before you armed them, we could have avoided the whole misunderstanding.”

Relief floods his features. “I was so worried you wouldn’t understand. After we take care of the army, I’ll talk to Pike about your guard position, let him know you’re on our side. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Pike said we had a small window, and I didn’t want to be the reason we missed it.”

You nod, and he leans down to kiss you. When he pulls away, he glances down the hall, where Gillmer now stands, waving him over. “I have to go, but we’ll talk when I get back.”

“Be safe.”

He nods and gives you one last kiss before running down the hallway, joining Gillmer, leaving you with a sick feeling in your stomach and the weight of the world on your shoulders.

next chapter

if sub rosa moves to three posts a week, which schedule would you be more interested in? keep in mind, I post in my timezone, which is CDT, the same timezone as the city Chicago, Illinois, USA. please comment on this post, send an ask or a message and let me know!

monday, wednesday, friday

wednesday, friday, sunday

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #The 100 #the 100 rewrite #the 100 fanfiction

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sugarless-suki-writes · 3 years ago

Text

First Lines Meme

Tagged by @nikkxb -- sorry it's taken me so long to get to this, lmao

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!)

See if there are any patterns.

Choose your favorite opening lines.

Then tag 10 authors!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I just kinda went to my recents on my google docs, so this is gonna have a mix of stuff, some original stuff too. ye :3 but I'm starting with fics that I currently have posted online. All of them are the first paragraph of the update that's in progress

Favorites have bolded and italicized titles :3

1. Sobriety || KouKag

Kagome had three sessions of therapy so far and she wasn’t fully sure how to feel. She knew it was helping her, but she was left feeling so.... raw and open after every session that she felt like she was just back pedaling and it was hard to cope with. A part of her wanted to just stop altogether and go back to self medicating, but she knew that this was just part of the process. The first couple sessions were going to be hard because there was just so much to unpack, but her therapist was nice and calm and patient with her. She really had to thank Kouga again when she saw him later today.

2. 100 Arms, 100 Years || KouKag

This was the fifth day that an offering had been left in front of Kagome’s door for her. The fifth time she would receive the carcass of a large animal that she wouldn’t accept. The fifth time that Inuyasha found himself in front of her and Kikyō’s shared hut and bringing the carcass to the village for her. His fifth time taking the credit for a hunt he had no part in. He had to admit, this was quickly grating on his nerves. He hated the attention that he was getting from the villagers now. They praised him for shit that he didn’t do. That, and he didn’t want to be praised for anything. It was bad enough that he practically had the Sacred Jewel within his grasp and wasn’t able to use it to become a full-fledged youkai, but now he was being celebrated as a hero by some mere humans? Keh... they’re lucky I don’t tell them what this is all actually about. I bet they wouldn’t be so happy then. He sniffed and scratched at his nose. He talked a big game, but Inuyasha knew deep down that he would never do anything to hurt them. If he did that, that would in turn hurt Kikyō and he couldn’t do that to her.

3. Big God || KouKag

Kagome let out a frustrated huff as she shoved her phone into her pocket. She then plopped down onto the couch, tucking her legs up underneath her and curling into Kouga’s side. “That’s the fourth test we’ve ran, and we just... can’t figure out what the hell that stuff is... It’s so frustrating!” she grumbled.

4. You are the Moon || KouKag

Kagome took care of dinner that night, going out to pick up a few things she would need before returning home and cooking. Her mother tried to talk her out of it, but Kagome insisted, wanting to give her mother a break for the night and do something nice for the family. She missed them, and she wanted to make up for being gone for so long.

5. The Demon of Nabewari Yama || KouKag

Kagome let out a small huff as she looked up at the mountain she was heading towards. She had been traveling for several days, bordering a week now, looking for somewhere to settle. However, all the villages she had come across already had a miko or monk residing there, and if they didn’t, they didn’t want one. To be fair, there weren’t many villages she had come across between her hometown and here, and sure, maybe she should go further out after completing her training, but it was still just a little frustrating.

6. Seasons of Love || ZelGan

Zelda looked herself over in the mirror, and the corners of her lips pulled down into a small frown. Her hair was pulled up into an extravagant updo, several locks braided and pulled into the bun that rested on the back of her head. There were some flowers pinned in as well, all of them white in color. She would have preferred something with a pop of color, so they would stand out against her hair; but she figured that, in the end, everything had to match her dress.

7. Gerudotown || ZelGan -- Title may change for this, idk lmao

Ganondorf let out a grunt as he dismounted from his horse. The beast was large with a jet-black coat and a matching mane. He gave the steed a pat on his neck before handing the reins to a stable boy, holding back a chuckle from the look on the boy’s face. He was certain the child had never seen a beast so big, nor a Gerudo, based on how he was looking up at Ganondorf with wide, disbelieving eyes.

8. Shit, Let's be Pirates || DaveJade

Jade ran down the dirt path leading to a hidden beach. She had just gotten out of class and was eager to go down to the coves. She wanted to find some cool shells and snap a couple pictures for her biology class. She always went above and beyond in that class, but she just had a passion for marine life.

9. Changing Fate || ZelGan

“You can’t possibly be serious about this, father!” Zelda snapped indignantly. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides and her face was contorted in rage. King Rimoll let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. They had been at this “conversation” for what felt like hours. He didn’t expect it to go this badly. Of course, he didn’t expect it to go well in the first place, but this was beyond what he anticipated.

10. Moon Bonds || KouKag

All Hallow’s Eve. A powerful night for witches and magick users alike. A night that better helped connect them to the spirits of the earth and those who had been lost. It was a night that Kagome looked forward to every year. The surge of magick that tingled under her skin and filled her very being... by the goddess it was an amazing feeling. And this year would be even more delightful and powerful.

11. Princess and the Pirate || Amuto

Growing up, Amu had been told many stories about pirates, everyone on her small island had. But Amu felt as if she had heard more than most. Her mother would tell her tales before bed about the pirates on a ship called the Emerald Line. Despite the name of the ship, its hull and sails were completely black. The only speck of color was the pirate flag it flew, which was emerald green and depicted a cat head with crossbones beneath. It was also known to be the fastest ship to sail the seas.

12. The Black Card || KouKag

Kagome paced around her room in her tiny apartment, struggling with picking out an outfit. It was her first day off in a while and she wanted to look cute, seeing as she wouldn’t be restricted by her, somewhat lenient (semi-strict?), dress code at the bookstore. However, she also wanted to be comfortable, so she was at a bit of an impasse. It wasn’t really as big a deal as she was making it out to be, but she was exhausted and she hoped that dressing nice would throw Sango off her trail. With a huff, she finally settled on a nice sundress she had stuffed in the back of her closet, one she rarely wore and almost forgot she had. It was light blue in color with a floral print.

13. Harvest Moon || KouKag

Kagome stretched as she woke up that morning. She opened her eyes and saw the torn-up ceiling and frowned to herself ever so slightly. She had moved into the country several days ago and had only recently started working on repairs that her home needed. It was a pretty large house, but the rent was extremely cheap. The only downside was she had to pay for the repairs, but in all honesty… she wasn’t too bothered by it. Apparently the house had been abandoned for years. No one was really sure how long... but Kagome could take a guess that it had been at least a decade with how worn down and dirty things were.

14. Memories || Original Fic - No Pairing

Lotus looked around at the scene before her. It would be an easy job, simple. She could do it in her sleep no problem. She scoffed and looked at the man beside her. “Really? You need me for this?” she asked. He turned to look at her, a scowl on his face.

15. Any Way the Wind Blows || ZelGan

Zelda woke up to the sun on her face. She grumbled and grunted, rolling over onto her side on her small mat. She opened her eyes and looked out ahead of her, at the grass and flowers swaying in the breeze. Her stomach gurgled and she placed a hand on it, a grimace on her lips. Food...

16. Found || KouKag

When Kouga had heard that there was a disturbance along one of their borders, he had been prepared for anything. He pulled together a team quickly, not taking all the strongest warriors, making sure to leave some behind to protect his pack. They ran off, ready to fight. Ready for anything. Anything except this.

17. Interlude IV (Showtime) || KouKag

O Signore, per amor del tuo nome, perdonami la mia iniquità... Perciocche ellà e grande Kagome sat there in the street, blood seeping through her clothes and soaking her knees. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks in a never ending flow. Her breath kept catching in the back of her throat as she tried to force down her sobs. Her hands were curled up into fists, pressed against the pavement, soaked in blood and in pain from being clenched so tightly and pressed so firm against the rough asphalt. Regret, despair, and guilt crushed her heart. They squeezed tight, holding onto her and keeping her trapped in the moment. A moment she’d rather drink away and forget, only for her guilty conscious to bring it back in her dreams at night, keeping her away from the blissfulness of sleep.

18. Bubblegum & Nicotine || Original Fic -- Astrid/Loki

Astrid opened the door to the apartment and latched her keys onto her belt loop. She then bent over to pick up the bags of groceries she had set on the ground to unlock the front door. Once she had crossed the threshold into the house, she raised up her right leg and kicked the door closed behind her. With a bit of a grunt, she hoisted the bags up a tad higher and made her way to the kitchen. She set them down on the counter with a thud and took a moment to catch her breath. She may be in good shape, but carrying several pounds of groceries up three flights of stairs because the elevator was out? That would wind anyone.

19. We Are Complicated || Bubbline

Bonnibel Kaugummi entered the school and was quick to drop her things off in her locker so she could head straight to the Student Council room. She grabbed a couple of her books out of the locker and shoved them into her messenger bag. The tan colored bag complimented her uniform, which consisted of a grey sweater, a red ribbon tied into a neat bow, which was neatly tucked underneath the collar of her white button up shirt underneath her sweater, and a red plaid skirt. The red accents to her uniform identified her as a Junior, and they complimented her red-orange hair and rosy complexion.

20. The End of All Things || KouKag

Kagome let out a soft sigh as she curled up in her spot on the bench, bringing her legs up to her chest. She was sitting out on the small deck that overlooked the garden in her backyard and watching the rain. It was fairly cool out thanks to the constant drizzle that had begun early that morning. The sound of it pattering against the ground and roof that extended over the deck filled her with a sense of calm, a calm that she desperately needed right about now. Working as a nurse wore her out. She loved her job, of course, but gods if it didn’t have its trials and tribulations. She had been working almost every day for a solid two weeks now, covering shifts for people on top of her own. Thankfully she had a couple of her shifts taken from her after being at the hospital for a full 24 hours at one point in time. Today just so happened to be her natural day off, and she felt pretty great about it.

#ask meme #koukag #kogkag #bubbline #zelgan #amuto #inuyasha #adventure time #legend of zelda #shugo chara #original content

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drariellevalentine · 4 years ago

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Medically Inevitable

Chapter 1- Frivolous First Days

Characters:- Arielle Valentine, Ethan Ramsey, Jackie Varma, Sienna Trinh

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

Warnings:- PTSD

Arielle’s PoV:-

Edenbrook Hospital. Finally! My very first day of my internal medicine residency at Edenbrook. One more step, a rather huge one, towards my goal.

General PoV:-

Arielle adores the hospital from standing outside, with a proud smile on her face. She's halfway there, to be her own person, and also halfway to mend the relationship that shouldn't have been strained in the first place, but yet, she had to destroy it. She takes a deep breath. Now, she can only hope for her godfather to forgive her.

With one more look, she enters the huge hospital to find the reception desk straight ahead of her. ID cards- she needs to collect her ID before doing anything else.

A bright, chirpy doctor, smiling at everyone who's passing her, is the first thing or to be more accurate the first person to grab Arielle's attention nearing the nurses' desk. “Hey!” New intern, right?" The doctor gives her a bright smile which Arielle returns. "I'm Dr. Delarosa but you can call me Ines," she continues, her cheerful voice flowing with excitement.

"Let me help you with your badge. What's your name?" She asks smiling.

"Arielle Valentine, " I reply.

"Valentine...Valentine..." She mutters while rummaging through the bundle of ID's and then the badges. And then smiles brightly when she finds both," Ah! Here you go Dr. Valentine."

Before taking her badge, for a moment, Arielle wonders how much Ines’s cheeks must hurt at the end of the day for smiling this much. But then Aria herself smiles.

"Thank you," she smiles at Ines before her gaze flickers back to the badge.

Dr. Valentine, it says. She remembers how her father said she wouldn’t be able to make it. He never believed in her, that she could be successful in the field she wants. But now she is going to be a doctor. She did it. And her heart fills with pride. She's never been this proud of herself before. "Thank you."

As she's about to pass the waiting room, out of nowhere, an elderly woman collapses on the floor.

Arielle makes her way towards woman but before she could another doctor reaches her. He leans down to check her pulse and then looks around before his gaze stops at her. "You rookie, come here."

For a millisecond Arielle thinks of correcting him and tell her name but then decides against it, because the patient's life matters more.

She rushes to the patient's side to take a note of her vitals and tells the doctor. "Pulse is weak. She is unresponsive," Arielle says. She can feel her panic rising. But the older doctor's calm. "What was she coming for? Did she fill out a form yet?" He asks the nurse standing nearby. "No, she just walked in," the nurse replies, his features screaming tension.

"If we don't figure out what's wrong with her quickly, she'll die on this table." He says, though a bit frustrated this time. "Rookie, check her B.P." Arielle wraps a blood pressure cuff around the unconscious woman's arm, and pumps the bulb, peering at the numbers. "It's plummeting. She's hypotensive," Arielle feels panic rising more than ever. "We need to get fluid in her."

The nurses runs and gets a IV stand. As he sets the stand, Arielle checks the woman for more symptoms as does the older doctor. That's when she notices a bruise rapidly forming in her elbows. "Doctor look at the bruise. It wasn't there a moment ago," she points it out. "Are you sure?"

"Yes.", you reply. "A bruising that fast suggests the patient is hemophiliac. Good catch." He nods." Take a closer listen to her lungs."

Arielle slips the stethoscope into her ears and runs the resonator over the woman's ribs. "I can't listen anything on her left side. And her right lung is struggling," She says tensed. "Doctor she's going to suffocate." Arielle's a mess right now, tensed. But the older doctor remains collected. "Nurse we have got a code blue."

Taking a bag mask from the nurse and begins to gently pump air into the woman's lungs. He is cool and calm on the other hand Arielle's on the verge of having an panic attack. "What do we do doctor?" She asks. "Consider all the clues. It's all there. You know this, Rookie."

It hits you. “It’s a hemothorax!” "Precisely, a blood vessel ruptured and is filling her pleural cavity- ,"

"-blocking her lungs from expanding. That's why she can't breathe!" I say. " But...but we can't repair the blood vessel here."

"We'll have to do an emergency thoracotomy here to drain the cavity instead." " Nurse!" He calls and the nurse runs to them with a lung tube and a scalpel, forwarding them to Arielle. She accepts it hesitantly. The doctor pulls the woman's shirt to expose the side of her rib cage, Arielle shivers of fear.

With her hand shaking she tries to remember what she was taught. The scalpel quivers in her nervous grip. But the doctor from behind her steadies her hand. "Hey, you've got this," he whispers softly and Arielle nods trying steady her hands. "There you go, nice and easy." He says as Arielle makes a perfect incision in between the woman's ribs.

"Now the tube," He instructs.

Together, the two of them insert the chest tube and with a spurt, blood comes out draining out of her chest. She starts to breathe again.

"We...we did it!" Arielle says shocked and surprised but also happy. She's happy that she could save a live. She knew her godfather would tell her stories about saving lives but, having done it for herself, she felt exhilarated and happy.

She sees the doctor gesturing to the nurse and then instructing him what to do.

"Doctor... That was...amazing! " Arielle says happy and excited.

"Yeah, it's actually pretty amazing that you didn't get her killed." He snorts.

"Your examination was slow and not to mention superficial. You scalpel techniques-" he nods in denial," amateur at best."

"I'm sorry doctor, it's my first day."

“Well, it wouldn't have mattered to the patient’s family if she died, Dr.-" he takes her ID, "Valentine."

He gazes at it thoughtfully before piching the bridge of her nose and mumbling something. Tossing the ID back at Arielle he leaves.

"What an ass!" She exclaims angrily.

"Yeah, what an ass!" A female nurse stares at her admiringly, her eyes filled with lust, making Arielle roll her eyes.

"Don't worry. Dr. Ramsey is like this to everyone," the same male nurse from before says.

"Dr. Ramsey?! As in Dr. Ethan Ramsey?!"

"Yes. I take in you are a fan?"

"Are you kidding me? He's basically one of the reasons I wanted to be a doctor. And now you are telling me I just performed a thoracotomy with him!" Arielle says the last part a bit dramatically making the nurse laugh and walks away leaving Arielle with her thoughts alone.

She remembers meeting him a few years back, but never did she think he would act like that. She remembers him sharing his passion of medicine with everyone, and encouraging her to follow her path. Was he really the same person? Can being a doctor for 10 years really change your outlook in life that much? She's shocked!

She looks down at her clothes now having patches of blood here and there. "I need to change my outfit," she says to herself and looks around for a clock. "Shit! I'm going to be late!”, she thinks noticing the time and runs off to find the locker room. After thirty minutes of a lecture, they gets assigned to their very first case, with an intern pairing with another from the stream.

And Arielle's partner is Aurora Emery, who just happens to be ‘her boss's niece and who is not at all surprisingly, not friendly at all.

On their way to the first patient, Arielle's the one to open her mouth first, “Okay, so our first patient is in Room 532. Should we talk about how we are going to approach this case first?" “No need," she says rudely testing Arielle's patience. That Aurora Emery doesn't have the right to talk to people like this just because her aunt is the hospital chief. "Look Aurora, all I care about is the patient.” Arielle takes a breath to calm herself. " If you don't want to be nice, that's okay by me. But we're gonna put everything else aside for the people in our care."

"Suits me just fine." Her voice still cold as ice. She moves forward, keeping a few steps ahead Arielle. So much for not being egoistic.

Arielle skims through the chart for the patient’s personal details. They enter Room 532 to see the patient in there of the same age as them, not much older.

Arielle’s PoV:-

“Hi Annie! I’m Dr. Valentine and this is Dr. Emery. We’ll be your doctors today.” I nod in her direction. And Aurora smiles kindly and sweetly at the girl. Something that I didn't think she can.

" Annie, I'm going to take your vitals while Dr. Valentine asks you some questions," she says, her face still smiling.

"Before we start, is there anyone we can call for you? Being in the hospital can be a little less scary with someone by your side."

" I just moved here for grad school. My family's on the other side of the country, and I don't really know anyone yet," Annie says, her voice low.

"I just moved here too. Maybe we can look after each other." I smile brightly at her hoping to make her mood better. It works, and she returns the smile.

As Aurora checks her B.P. I ask her a few questions noticing the patches of rashes on her skin.

"Do you often suffer from itchy skin?"

"Not really. Just for the past few days."

I nod and grab her chart. " You came in here for headaches, nausea and vertigo."

"And also my plans keep cramping up."

“My palms also keep cramping up though.”

"Have you ever had these symptoms before?"

"Never. The timing sucks. I even had to cut my vacation to Indonesia short for it."

"You did the right thing. Vertigo on a unknown place can be very dangerous." Aurora says.

"Not to mention how scary it have been.

"It still is." Annie pauses for a second. "How long will I have to stay here?"

"We'll try our best to make it quick," I say confidently, and the girl relaxes a bit.

"Sorry, I panic easily when I'm stressed out."

I notice a bruise on her ankle while checking her for any other symptoms or anything else that could give me a clue.

"How did you get this cut on your ankle, Annie?"

"Oh that! I cut it on some coral while I was scuba driving."

"You are a scuba driver?"

"I'm still learning. I went to get my driver's license while I was on my trip. But I never got it though."

"Okay, last question. Are you allergic to any medication?"

"No, none that I know of."

Arielle notes everything down. "Thank you Annie, you did a nice job here." Both Arielle and Aurora smiles at her.

"Thanks. You guys are really nice. Honestly, I was hoping a old grumpy guy."

"So was I.", I laugh.

"We'll let you get some rest," Aurora says before getting out of the room following Arielle.

"Dr. Valentine. I don't think I'm ever going to get tired of hearing it."

" I on the other hand, am already bored of it," Aurora says, her friendly behavior gone again.

Sighing, I focus on the job.

" We should do a screen for any viruses or bacteria. She could have picked up something on her trip."

"Not the worst idea. We’ll run a full workup on her vitals."

And before I can say anything else, Aurora's pager goes off. It's her aunt. She's paging her to her office.

"I need to go." Her cold voice announces.

"Seriously?! " This time I can feelher anger rising. Was she really ditching her? It's our case. We should solve it together. Not me alone!

"I'll tell you what. When the chief wants to see you, I'll run the labs. Until then...”, she never finishes the sentence but leaves.

General PoV:-

Half an hour later, Sarah, a nurse at the hospital, the same one who was admiring Dr. Ramsey shamelessly, hands Arielle a lab report. Annie's lab report.

Going through the report once Arielle ask to give Annie an antibiotic, twice a day, 1200 mg in total. She tells it to Maria, another nurse, a bit elderly but nonetheless friendly and sweet.

Before lunch she decides to check on the other patient she had. A five year old child who has a hole in heart. Poor boy. Life is being unfair to him. He should have been playing and having fun but here he was stuck with his medications.

The last time she checked on him, he was all sad and gloomy, sitting on his bed alone. So this time Arielle decides to surprise him with a treat that'll make him happy.

That's what Arielle is doing now, standing in front of the vending machine. Buying four different candies, which are now resting in the pocket of her lab coat, she is standing there confused of which chocolate bar to pick as the fifth treat.

Twix... Kitkat... And an unknown chocolate bar. She guesses it to be some American snack. Her eyes runs over all the chocolate options before she sighs.

"Having trouble choosing yourself a treat, Rookie?" A cold, nonchalant voice says from behind her.

She turns around to find the same doctor with whom she performed the thoracotomy, Dr. Ramsey.

"Dr. Ramsey... It's not for me, it's for one of a patient of mine." She says. When she doesn't get any reply from him she herself continues. "He is here to treat a hole in his heart. His surgery is due tomorrow and he is really scared right now. Poor little guy, he should be enjoying playing with toys but instead stuck here. So I thought of buying him a little something that will cheer him up."

For a second, she thinks that she saw him smile but it was gone to soon to revaluate.

She turns to the vending machine again. "I was always a Geysers girl myself.” “He however”, pausing to turn back and point at the boy, “doesn't seem like a kid who'll like Geysers."

She says looking at him. She notices him staring at that chocolate bar and suddenly an idea strikes her mind. "Why don't you help me choose one, doctor? Please," she requests, way too cutely for anyone to refuse.

He sighs but yet takes a step forward towards the machine. He stands there for a minute going through the option. His eyes flickering at the chocolate bar which makes Arielle think he's going to choose it but rather he settles for a Kitkat.

When it pops out, he hands it to Arielle and walks away. With the remaining coins, Arielle quickly buys that chocolate bar.

"Dr. Ramsey...wait!" She quickens her pace to catch him and bumps into him when he suddenly stops resulting in the free fall of her charts.

She leans down to pick it up but rather the chocolates and candies falls down from her pocket.

Sighing Ethan kneels down to help her. "Jeez, Rookie, are you here to treat the kid or give him diabetes?"

Arielle gives him a incredulous look while picking her things. "It's just a few candies!"

Ethan hands her the candies he picked up and then stands. Arielle too stands up after picking her charts and then hands out the chocolate bar to Ethan, who raises his brows.

"I saw you staring at it," she starts to explain, " Seemed like you like it."

She tosses him the bar with a sweet smile, " You know it's okay to treat yourself time to time."

"And you know, you are never too old to have a chocolate," she smirks at him but Ethan is too surprised at her gesture that he barely notices it.

"Uh, thank you Dr. Valentine...I guess," he says awkwardly.

Arielle's PoV:-

Dr. Ramsey turns around and leaves. As I turn around I bump into another person. “What's with me and bumping today.”, I think. "Sorry, my bad!" I apologize to the intern with whom I bumped. "Ah, no, all mine... I'm sorry," he stammers a bit. “Hey, I saw you at the orientation. Arielle Valentine, right?” I nod.

"I'm Landry Olsen," he forwards his hand which I take. "Was that Dr. Ramsey?" He points towards the elevator. "Yes." "Wait, you’re the intern who performed the thoracotomy with him this morning. Aren't you?" He asks surprised and exited.

“Yeah, and he ripped me a new one in front of everyone," I say sadly. "It was so damn-" "Lucky!" He interrupts me in between. I bet that, well I think, being insulted in front of a whole crowd is anything but lucky. But I don't find it important to tell him.

Before I can say anything else my phone chimes with an alarm I set. "Sorry, I'll have to go. Talk to you later," I say and turn towards the stairs. “Okay, time to check on Annie, she should have taken the medication by now.”, you think to yourself. You enter her room to find Annie scrolling through her phone.

“Hey Annie.” “Hi Dr. Valentine, a nurse just gave me some medication a while back.” “Good. So, tell me more about yourself. We didn’t really have a chance to talk.”“I just moved here last week from California. I got accepted into Harvard for law.....law...sch...”

Suddenly, Annie’s heart monitor goes flat! Annie!..Annie!” You press the call button and yell Code Blue, performing chest compressions. Another intern burst into the room saying, “Room 501 just called a Code Blue before you, keep up the chest compressions. What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know, she was talking and speech started slurring. Then her heart stopped.”The tall intern pulls back Annie’s gown, revealing hives. You gasp. “She must have been allergic to the antibiotic I prescribed her!”

“We’ll have to defibrillate her ourselves; we’ll start her at 300 volts.” She takes your place of performing CPR, while you pull the cart close to the bed.

You open her gown and place the paddles after gelling their undersides, as she pauses CPR. “One below the right collarbone and one below the left armpit. Done!” You set the charge to 300 volts. “Do it!” Annie’s body spasms as you defibrillate her. “Clear!” You set them aside as she continues chest compressions. “Come on!.....Come on Annie! Come back to us!” You hear a beep, you turn towards the monitor. Annie’s heartbeat returns, accelerated but constant! “Yes!” “You are sooo lucky, Dr....”

“Arielle Valentine. I’ll maintain compressions while you push an epinephrine injection and intubate, Dr....” “Jackie Varma.”, she says while intubating. You continue with your compressions. “What the HELL is going on here, Rookie?”

You let out a short squeal in surprise. Turning to look at him, you see him leaning on the doorframe glaring at you. “Dr. Ramsey! Don’t worry, everything’s under control. My patient was allergic to the antibiotics I prescribed her.”

“At least you’re owning up to your mistake.” You see Dr. Ramsey turn to Jackie, pushing an epinephrine injection into her thigh. “Now, we intubate.” You see her lubricate the tube before slowly feeding it through her mouth.

“Good work, Dr....” “Varma. I heard Dr. Valentine calling a Code Blue, since Room 501 called one before, I decided to step in and help.”

“The patient is very lucky you were here. I’m not sure Dr. Valentine here could have handled it.” You bit your lip, your face falling. “Thank you Dr. Ramsey, although Dr. Valentine performed as well.”

He scoffs and politely tells her to go back to her patients. “And you... you need to have a long, hard think about if you are prepared to be here. This isn’t med school, this is the real world. It doesn’t matter that the patient didn’t know that she was allergic or it is your first day. Whether your patients live or die are on you.” “Yes, Dr. Ramsey.”, you bit your lip in shame so hard that you start drawing blood. Luckily, he doesn’t notice. “There are no room for mistakes or excuses. You can’t expect the patient’s family to accept the reason of”-

“Dr. Ramsey? A petite intern is standing near the door. “Wow, someone who isn’t tall! I thought everyone were basketball players here!”, you think to yourself. “Yes?”, he asks, the annoyance on his face clearly visible. “A nurse said to me that another nurse said to him that Dr. Hirata said to him that Chief Emery wants to see you.” He groans, “Interns!” He swiftly walks out and turns a corner.

“Thank God for Dr. Hirata!”, you thank the universe for this distraction. “Yeah, but too bad that Chief Emery didn’t actually need Dr. Ramsey.”, she says with a mischievous smirk. “Wait What?”

“I saw Dr. Ramsey chewing you out, just as bad as your lip, and thought that girl needs a little saving.”, she says nonchalantly. “Damn! You’ve got nerve!”, I praised her, impressed by her courage to lie to THE Dr. Ramsey. “Aww! Thanks, it was nothing. I’m Sienna or Dr. Trinh, whatever floats your boat. “I’m Arielle Valentine, and I’m also glad that not every doctor is a basketball player!” She laughs.

“Hey, a bunch of us interns are meeting up at a bar across the street, Donahue’s. You should come too, even Dr. Ramsey hangs out there.” “I’ll be there.”

“Awesome! Come to the locker room once your shift ends. I’ll be waiting. Byeee!”

General PoV:-

Arielle can’t help but think about her arguments with her father as Dr. Ramsey’s words come back to her. “And you... you need to have a long, hard think about if you are prepared to be here. This isn’t med school, this is the real world. It doesn’t matter that the patient didn’t know that she was allergic or it is your first day. Whether your patients live or die are on you.”

Arielle starts to doubt herself, whether cutting off most contact with her family and Naveen was worth it. Especially for something she isn’t good at. Her mind starts to remember her 18th birthday, specifically the huge argument that followed after her announcement of becoming a doctor, “or at least hoping to.”, she thought.

Tears start pooling in her eyes and she ducks into a nearby supply closet. She can hear her father’s words whispered in her head. “How could you do this! We’ve been talking about you and your brother taking over the family law firm someday! Why would you tell us now! Do you know how many prestigious universities and colleges are fighting to provide a full scholarship to the great Alessandro Raines’s daughter!” Tears start running down her blush tinted cheeks, smearing the eyeliner and mascara she had done in the morning. Her pager beeps after some time. She darts into the restroom and fixes her makeup and continues her shift.

Where's is the freaking elevator? She angrily mutters to herself in the quest of finding the elevator.

"Hey, are you lost too?" An intern in a wheelchair asks her. He is coming from the opposite direction of her.

"Yes," Arielle gives a sheepish smile.

"Me too."

"Trust me this place doesn't look this huge from outside." Arielle says and he giggles.

"Any idea how to get to the elevator?" He asks looking around.

"Nope. I'm looking for it too," Arielle sighs. "How does everyone else seem to already know where to go?""And what to do..." He says sadly.

"Say, are you two lost? I can show you the main hall then," and elderly patient says coming from the same direction as Elijah.

"Thanks! As long as it's not much trouble for you ma'am," Elijah smiles at her brightly.

"No trouble Dr. Taylor makes me take twelve laps of the floor every day so I don't go stir-crazy!" She smiles back. "Come with me," She says and starts to walk and the lost two interns follows her.

"Here you go. This elevator can take you on your way," she nods at the elevator which is currently resting on this floor.

"Thank you ma'am! You are a lifesaver," Elijah says.

"Really, thank you," Arielle smiles at her before getting in the elevator with Elijah.

As the elevator starts moving down, something strikes in Arielle's mind.

"Oh my God! I know what's wrong with Annie!" She says and presses the 3rd floor button.

"Wait, what's wrong? And who's Annie? " Elijah asks confused but before Arielle can reply the lifts halts to stop.

"Sorry, gotta go! I'll explain it to you later!" Arielle gets out of the lift while paging Dr. Ramsey.

Ten minutes later, he enters room 532, where Arielle is talking with Annie.

"You paged me," his cold voice rang through the room which grabbed the attention of both the woman.

"I solved the case," Arielle says happily.

"I'll be the judge of that."

"I too want to know what is wrong with me," Annie says in between them and with that Arielle starts to explain what she found out while questioning Annie occasionally, when needed.

"I'm going to write her prescription and get her medications ready," Arielle feels to Ethan once they both where outside the patient's room.

"Don't bother," Dr. Ramsey says nonchalantly, handing her a paper.

She opens it to find a medical prescription, prescribing all the medicines that she was about to order for Annie. "You knew what's wrong with her?" She asks confused and he nods.

"Then why didn't you treat her?" She asks a bit angrily this time.

"I thought to give you time till 11 o'clock to solve it."

"I- Well, thanks for giving me a chance," Arielle says calming her anger.

And he raises his brows at her, "You’re not angry?"

"Honestly, I am. But again, I'm not going to learn anything if someone is holding my hand." She answers.

"My thoughts exactly."

Just then Aurora comes there to see Arielle talking with Ethan, with a prescription in her hands. Her eyes moves to the room where Annie is staying to Annie laying happily in her bed.

"You presented the case without me." Aurora says angrily once she's beside Arielle.

And that's when Arielle remembers that she had a partner. "I'm doomed," she thinks to herself before she hears Ramsey scolding Aurora.

"Where where you and what where you doing when Dr. Valentine was solving the case here alone?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose he continues, "This assignments aren't optional..."

He keeps lashing out at Dr.Emery so Arielle decides to help her out.

"Sorry, Dr. Emery, I should have kept you updated on the case," She interrupts Ethan who angrily mutters something under his breathe.

Aurora at first glares at her angrily but after understanding Arielle is giving her an out she speaks," It's okay. I wasn't there. So it is your win."

Ethan turns to Arielle this time. "Dr. Valentine, this hospital runs on communication. Keep each other apprised."

He says before walking out to the other direction.

Your shift soon grinds to an end. You head to the locker room.

"Get ready!!" Sienna exclaims excited as soon as Arielle enters into their locker room."Woah! Calm down, girl!," Arielle smiles brightly at her. "Did you bring something to wear?" She asks and Arielle turns around from her locker with a cowl neck backless maroon top and a pair of black skinny jeans. " What do you think?" She shows it to Sienna."You'll look beautiful in it. Go and put it on! I want to see you in it!" She literally pusher Arielle into the changing stalls.

Within minutes Arielle gets out of the stall. “How do I look?""You look gorgeous," she compliments her. If anyone else said this Arielle wouldn't have believed it but Sienna's compliment felt genuine to her. "Is anyone else going to join us?" Arielle asks as they exit the hospital building. "Yes, they are already in the bar waiting for us," she says, her excitement never decreasing. It takes them five minutes to walk to the bar from the hospital.

"Hi, guys!" Sienna greets as soon as they reach a table. There are three more interns there. Arielle saw them at the orientation, they are internal medicine residents, same as her. Also, two of them are Landry and Jackie, she already met them."This is Arielle," she introduces Arielle to everyone. "Hi!" Arielle waves at everyone before taking a seat beside Jackie and Sienna sits beside Elijah and next to him is Landry. Soon a waiter brings a tray full of shots to their table and they bond over it.

Hours after, Arielle feels a pair of eyes looking at her. She looks around to find a pair of turquoise blue eyes locked on hers. "I'll buy us the next round," Arielle says and get up before anyone else can say anything. "Anything wrong Dr.Ramsey?" She asks when she's nears him at the bar. "No, I-" he pauses."I was just looking how different you look in the outer world." Just then the bartender interrupts to ask if Arielle needs something. "A round of shots and," she looks at Ethan's glass trying to figure out what he is drinking," two scotches,neat." She smiles at the bartender. The bartender comes back either her orders and she passes one of the glasses bearing the scotch to Ethan. "Why neat instead of on the rocks?" He asks accepting the drink. "Because ice changes the flavor."

"Correct," he says impressed. " You know you can't bribe me into favoring you, right?" He nods at the drink. "It's just a thank you drink," she replies.” “Thank you, for what?" " For giving me another chance."

Ethan’s PoV:-

As she talks about some patient, he can't help but study her face. It feels like I know her, I've seen her somewhere before. Her soft diamond face, blushing cheeks. Her long jet black hair, the end of which is ombréd with violet, the same violet as her eyes- everything about her seems too familiar. I can't help but look at how pretty she is looking right now. Her hair covering half of her face and those bright violet eyes peeking from beneath it those beautiful long lashes. Get a hold on your thoughts, Ramsey! She's your intern for god’s sake!

"Anything for you, Ethan?" Reggie asks after bringing Arielle her tray of shots. "Two specials, Reggie." "Only for you Ethan." "You are on first name basis with the bartender?" She asks me after Reggie is gone. “I come here everyday since my intern year. So I know him for a long time," I answer. "You don't have anyone waiting at home?"

I hesitate for a moment but then decide to change the topic by answering. “I'll come here even when I do. I need some buffer between hospital and the world. An air lock." "Don't take your job home, Valentine." "I'll keep that in mind. But you still didn't answer my question." She says. She's not one to forget. I sigh. “No, no one's waiting for me at home tonight." Thanks to Reggie for saving me from any further questions from her, if she has any.

After Reggie places our drinks I hand one to her.

"Try it."

She looks at it for a moment, probably deciding whether or not to drink.

"It's great! Better than any other drink I've had," she says slightly surprised making me smirk.

“Either you are sucking up to me or you have an excellent taste as an intern." I smirk.

"I'd like to think it's the second one." She grins and then turns around to find her friends.

"I think I should go. My friends are waiting for me. Good night, Dr. Ramsey.” She says and I nod.

Arielle’s PoV:-

After two hours, and three more rounds of shots, the group makes their way out.

"We'll have to be back here after four more hours only," Arielle says checking the time on her phone.

"The apartment I share with my boyfriend is on the other side of the town. I will barely be able to sleep for two hours," Sienna says sadly.

"I'd be damned to sleep for two hours. The apartment I stay in is above a salsa club," Jackie sighs.

"The apartment I rented doesn't have a lift, so I had to settle with the smallest one-bed room apartment on the ground floor. There's hardly any space there," Elijah says.

"Guys!" Sienna grabs their attention. "Maybe I am saying this because I'm drunk. But what if the five of us rents an apartment together?" She suggests.

"Renting an decent apartment alone in Boston may be quite expensive. But if we five split it among us, the price won't be much more than we are already paying for our hellholes." Jackie nods in support.

"That's probably a good idea." Landry supports her too.

As the group starts discussing about it, Arielle looks at them thoughtfully.

She never thought of moving in with people she’ve known for only a day, but fate seems to have different plans for her.

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maritimeericandersen · 3 years ago

Text

Lost And Found

Grim and Max, finally, come to Swynlake.

Benedict Grimsby was awoken in the middle of the night by the piercing ring of his telephone. Normally, he would have let whatever telemarketer it was leave their shoddy voicemail about how his national insurance number had been released and go back to sleep.

But then the phone rang again. He let out a huff which then prompted Max to reply with a low woof from the other end of the bed. (That had been a war unfought. As soon as Max had stopped trying to scratch down Eric’s door and come to whine in Benedict’s room the invitation onto the bed had been a reluctant, Fine! But only for tonight.)

A hand reached across the sheets toward the harsh source of light sitting on the bedside table. He squinted at the phone screen when he had managed to pull it free of the charger. The area code was unfamiliar. Swynlake? Who would be calling him from there?

Benedict would have not bothered usually but it was the middle of the night and perhaps there was a bit of bitterness he wanted to get out for them having woken him up. “Hello?”

“Hello, sir, we’re sorry to call you at this hour. Are you Benedict Grimsby?”

“Yes.”

“We are calling about an Eric Andersen who was admitted here at the Swynlake General Hospital earlier tonight. It took us awhile to get his medical files forwarded to us, but you’re listed as his next of kin.”

He sat up slowly, pressing the phone closer against his ear. “I’m sorry, who’s there?”

“Eric Andersen?” There was the sound of papers shuffling before the woman spoke again. “White male. Born January 7th, 2001.”

“That can’t be right.”

“What?”

“I said that can’t be right,” he told her a little more forcefully. “Eric Andersen has been missing for over a year and a half. I don’t know who you have in your hospital, but it can't be him.”

“Well, I don’t know what else to tell you, sir. He was brought in by a Henry Charming who identified him.”

He could hardly believe what he was hearing. Two years ago he would have simply trudged down to whatever hospital, knowing full well that those two boys (but mainly Eric, since the Charming boy had always seemed to have more sense to him) had gotten themselves into trouble. But now, it just couldn’t be possible. Eric was dead. Not officially, but there had been no other survivors. Everyone had told him that there had been no chance. They were too far out for anyone, even an Olympic athlete in the best shape of their life, to have swam back to safety. He was gone.

If Eric had survived he would have called. He would have come back at some point— if not for Grim than for his dog.

“Sir?” the woman’s voice called him back from his thoughts. “Uh, Mr. Grimsby?”

“I’m here.”

“Right.” A beat. “Just in case this is your Eric Andersen, he’s in stable condition now. If you would like to see him, you can.”

“Could I speak to him?”

“He’s actually still under the anesthetic from surgery, but we can always call you back when he wakes up.”

“How long will that be?”

“There’s really no telling. Everyone responds to it differently and given the extent of his injuries it may be a while. A few hours at minimum.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

“Of course, sir.” He started to pull the phone away but she spoke again. “I’ll see you when you get here. Drive safe.”

The drive from Plymouth to Swynlake was supposed to have taken around 3 hours. For Benedict Grimsby, in the early hours of the morning when hardly anyone else was on the road and going well over the speed limit, it took him around 2 and a quarter.

There had been no time for him to think clearly about this whole ordeal— something that being the guardian of that wretched boy had taught him oh too well. He had packed a back blindly, hooked the harness around Max, and shoved them both into the car.

When he arrived at the hospital he didn’t know what to do with Max. He couldn’t very well leave him in the car. It may have been early morning before the sun had risen but it was still summer. So he took him on his harness into the building.

Luckily Henry Charming was there, accompanied by two girls that Grim did not recognize and didn’t care to at the moment. He put Max in their care and turned to find a nurse gesturing for him.

“Mr. Grimsby?” she asked as he approached, voice familiar. It took him a moment to place it.

“The nurse from the phone?” he countered and she smiled, nodding.

“Yes. I’m glad you’re here. Eric’s finally awake.” She turned to motion down the hall. “Would you like to go and see him now?”

The walk to the room had been all too short. He’d spent the whole drive there trying to convince himself to not get his hopes up. Benedict was a practical person. All Grimsby’s were.

But the Andersen’s had not been.

His friendship with Aiden had been forged out of a strong grip and obnoxious stubbornness to win Benedict over. It hadn’t been a miracle or an act of fate or some such nonsense people like to spin poetry around. They had been friends because Aiden had willed it into the world and Benedict had no choice but to grow fond of him.

Isla was not, by blood, an Andersen. When he had first met her she had been a Harrington. There was a steadiness to her that Aiden sorely lacked. Where he was made up of impulses and moved where he wanted, she had always been a pillar. She knew what she wanted and how she was going to go about getting it. And Aiden had followed her, all the way to the end.

That had left Eric, a product of both parts, with Grimsby.

Their will had been a shock to him. The lawyer had told him if he didn’t want to take responsibility then someone else would surely take the child. The Andersen’s had all passed, Aiden’s brother having gone long before him, but Isla still had family. He had contemplated the decision for a few days. It had been the practical thing to do, just as it would be to allow Eric to grow up among his family.

He did not know why he accepted custody. Perhaps because it had been his friends’ last wish and the knowledge that they had entrusted the life of their son to him.

There had always been doubt in the back of his mind that he was ill fit for the job. Every bruise and broken bone Eric had come back with had been allusions to this. What made it fact was when he had not come back at all.

A grand total of three Andersen’s had died on his watch. Now, one had returned and hadn’t even had the decency to call for the score to be settled.

In the time it took to get from the lobby to the hospital room he had not been able to really believe that he would find Eric inside.

But then the door opened and there he was, looking up from where he had been staring out the window. That ridiculous grin bloomed across his face, elbows moving clumsily against the cushions to help him sit up.

“Grim! You’re here!”

Benedict turned his attention to the nurse who was already making her way out of the room. The door shut behind him with a resonating click. He took slow and measured steps over to the bed.

“Look, I know you’re probably seething— and you’ve every right to be angry. I wanted to tell you. Every day! Every day I thought to myself, I need to call Grim, I need to tell him but I couldn’t.” Eric shook his head, the dark curls on his head bouncing. “How did you know I was here?”

Benedict didn’t answer, simply turned to focus on the leg that was wrapped up in bandages and sitting on a stack of pillows.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Eric waved a hand at it. “They’re making a bigger fuss of it than necessary.”

His eyes traveled up to the various tubes attached to Eric’s arms. There were the usual suspects, an IV and medication. But the one for blood told him that the boy was lying, even if he didn’t realize it.

Whatever had happened to him had been serious.

And to think, he never would have known had Eric not been brought to a hospital.

A whole calendar year had passed and then some, and Eric had not bothered to say anything.

“Grim?” Benedict blinked, eyes meeting Eric’s. He looked uneasy. An unusual emotion to find on the boy who was always so sure, so confident, so stubborn. “I know it’s bad. I know. But— say something? Even if it’s only anger.”

It was true that Benedict felt anger but there was so much more there, too. Relief, hurt, happiness, utter devastation. He did not know which one to lean on first, which one could possibly hold control over all the others in order to choose the words in which to react. They were all so loud, so demanding, he could barely think with ease.

A hand rose and reached forward to touch Eric’s shoulder. It was solid. The corner’s of Eric’s mouth quirked upward and he brought his hand up to lay on top. It had always been so easy for him. He had constantly taken Benedict’s hand or thrown his arms around the man in a hug. It was always something, that constant line of unspoken communication that he was there.

Its absence had been staggering.

Its sudden return felt worse somehow. Like a mended bone needing to be broken again in order to heal correctly this time over.

All this time Benedict had been in mourning, trying to deal with the grief of the boy he thought to be dead. It had been killing him, slowly but surely. That reassuring touch seemed to be the reminder that the both of them were still alive.

His grip on Eric’s shoulder tightened, no doubt painfully so, and he leaned forward to capture the boy in a hug. It was only then that he felt Eric’s hesitation, how it took him several seconds to bring his arms up and around to return it. But once they were there and met with no resistance, he seemed to relax, clutching on just as tightly.

“I’m sorry, Grim.” His voice was quiet now, thick with emotion.

He pulled away, hands coming up to clutch either side of Eric’s face just to look at him. Alive. Breathing. Not dead, lost in the sea like everyone had said he was. His eyes were glassy and skin pale, but it was still the Eric he remembered.

Grim shook his head in disbelief, laughing until it tapered into a sob and he had to hug Eric to him all over again. “You really delight in these sadistic strains on my blood pressure, don’t you?”

Eric laughed then too, the sound of it watery and surprised. “Are you mad?”

“Oh, I think what I’m feeling goes far beyond the scope of the English language. Enjoy it now because in several days when I get over you not being dead, I will have plenty of anger left.” With a sigh he pulled away. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story.”

“You say that as if you’ve never used that excuse before.”

And so Eric told him everything. From top to bottom. About the wreck, getting saved, coming to Swynlake, getting a job, going to uni, telling Henry, avoiding Philip, Tom, and John like the plague, and getting attacked by a creature earlier that night.

“Or should I say yesterday?” Eric glanced over to the window where the sky’s dark inky blue had lightened. The sun had not come up just yet, but it was only a matter of minutes.

Grim didn’t say anything for a long time, having to mull all that information over in his mind. Again, there was too much emotion to deal with. He couldn’t remember a time he had felt so much and so many all in the span of a few hours.

“Grim?” He looked up to find Eric squinting at him. “Did I lose you somewhere?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Then why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“I dunno— like you’re the one sitting in the hospital bed with a leg that’s just been used for a chew toy.”

Grim let out a breath through his nose. With one last look at Eric he sat up, getting ready to stand. “Thank you for telling me. It seems you’ve made quite a new life for yourself here.”

Eric watched, confused, as Grim stood. “Are you leaving?”

“Yes.”

“But— you just got here.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Then why’re you going? I don’t understand.”

“Eric, had the hospital not called me tonight, would you have?”

Eric’s eyes drifted away from him then, falling on his hands that were fiddling with the blanket. “I don’t know.”

Grim nodded because he did.

“But—! You’re here now! Can’t you stay?”

“Why?”

“What’d’ya mean why?” Eric scoffed. “Because I want you to.”

“You didn’t want me here before.”

“Oh my god.” He rolled his eyes, arms lifting and falling heavily against the mattress. “Is that what you think? That I ran away from you?”

“No. But you seem to be doing just fine here all on your own.”

“I’m not! I wasn’t! I would’ve cracked a long time ago if it weren’t for other people. My boss, for one. My friends, too. I wouldn’t’ve gotten where I did if it weren’t for all of them.” Eric shook his head, one corner of his mouth raised up in a half smile. It disappeared after a moment when his eyes turned back on Grim. “And you. I wouldn’t be anywhere if it weren't for you.”

“That’s not true.”

“‘Course it is. What? You think 10 year old me could have done it all on his own?” Eric snorted. “Don’t be stupid.”

“Eric—”

“I’m sorry. That was rude, I know. Shouldn’t have said it.” He sniffled, swiping the sleeve of his hospital gown under his nose and making Grim cringe. “I know you’re the one who gets to be angry here and that I’ve no right to it since I hurt you but— but you can’t just go around saying that.”

Grim blinked.

He had seen Eric upset before. Several times over and in many different ways. Frustrated over his school work. Humiliated over something that had happened at training that had gotten him yelled at. Heart broken. Grieving. Name it, he had seen it— or he thought he had. But he had never seen this.

“After I didn’t say anything those first few months I knew that when I did tell you I had to have done something. Otherwise it would have just been like every other time I called you to come get me out of something. I wanted—” Instead of finishing his sentence a shuttery breath left him and that alone stretched the moment into eternity.

Finally Grim found enough courage to ask, “What did you want?”

Eric turned to look up at him, jaw working itself for a moment until he finally relented. “I wanted to be someone that you could finally be proud of. Not just some idiot kid who ruined your life when my parents made you take me.”

Grim understood then that all those other times, all those little moments when he thought he had failed Eric, this past year and a half he had thought there was nothing worse he could have done then allowed him to walk right to his own death— it’s absolutely nothing compared to the sound of those words.

“Oh, Eric. They didn’t make me do anything. It was my choice and I’ve never regretted it, or you, for a moment.” He stepped closer to the bed again. “And I’ve always been proud of who you are.”

Eric stared at him, searching. “Really? Even— even though I barely graduated from secondary?”

“Yes.”

“Even after I broke your client’s fancy vase that one time?”

“Yes.”

“Even after I brought home that pig?”

“I do hope you’re not referring to Max.”

“And—” Eric hesitated but eventually continued. “And even though I didn’t tell you I was okay?”

“Of course I am. I may not be happy about it and I may want to wring your neck for what you put me through this past year. And you may have gone about your pursuit for the truth in a very— unorthodox way, but, if what you’ve told me is true and you have accomplished all of this here, then, yes. Yes, I’m proud of you. I always have been.”

A familiar grin blossomed over Eric’s face that transformed it into something like the sunrise about to take place outside. It was so earnest and bright Grim could not help but smile in return. “Ah, Grim, I always tell people you’re a big softie, and no one ever believes me.”

“Good. I’d rather like to keep it that way.”

“So— this mean you’re staying?”

“If you want me to.”

“Always.” Eric reached out to clasp Grim’s forearm. He turned his head, a shoulder lifting. “And I mean, if you’re not going to disown me over this then there’s really nothing worse I can do, is there?”

“Don’t test it.”

“Believe me, Grim, I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.” He tugged on Grim’s arm until he was seated back in his chair. “You’re going to love this place! Don’t worry, it’ll be great.”

Grim nodded. Odd how easy it was to slip back into their respective roles. How Eric made even the most complex of situations such as this one sound so simple. For now, Grim supposed he could believe him. “I’m sure it will.”

A pause.

“Hey Grim? Did you bring Max?”

#lost and found #the gangs all here

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